Previous Chapter | The Citadel | Next Chapter

Much of New Salem sat above a massive cave structure. Most of these caves had been reinforced with concrete and turned in to the city’s first sewer system. The system stretched from the city’s southern districts all the way to the suburbs of Hawthorne, on the edge of Lake Doom. But the city’s original builders missed many of the side caves, including the one deep beneath this neighborhood. In his secret identity as Robert Benton, he started construction on the structure’s three feet thick concrete walls late in 1939 using a staff of workers imported from China. They returned to their home several months later, unaware of the reason for their work. Alongside Conrad, he spent every free moment not working at the Clarion or on the streets as Vengeance working to remodel the structure. They finished the Citadel in 1943, and Vengeance had his first true base of operations.

Vengeance cursed his own memory. How can I remember every detail of the Citadel’s construction but not remember sixty years of my own life?

Most of the Citadel’s entrances would have automatically self-destructed during the fire, but the sewer access would still be available. Vengeance dropped to ground level in the narrow space between the frame of the new building and its nearest neighbors. Few accessed New Salem on the ground level. The main roads ran around the fifteenth floor of most buildings, though some roads ranged ten or even twenty stories higher. The narrow and damaged ground access areas were used by few other than the water company and the homeless. The lack of human life on the level allowed him to pry up the nearest sewer cover with no one around to watch.

He dropped down on to the ladder and pulled the lid back in to place above him. Darkness surrounded him and the night vision lenses in his cowl instantly lit the world in shades of green.

He made his way deeper in to the sewers. He headed directly down the main passage beneath the new structure. Just over a hundred yards down the path, he saw the series of loose stones in a V-pattern to his right. He walked up to the V, and then depressed three stone in the middle of the curve in quick succession. The wall to his left slid quickly to the side. Vengeance ducked through the aperture. It closed only seconds after him.

Vengeance looked around the massive chamber. He saw no signs of activity.

“Lights, twenty percent.”

Generators whirred to life and about half the lights on the ceiling high above blinked to life. The night vision green faded from his goggles and Vengeance ordered the lights up to fifty percent. The halogen bulbs worked best at that level, and any higher would flood the Citadel with blinding light. Yet another of the structure’s many security measures.

He walked through the main hangar of the Citadel and found most of his transportation gone. The sewer-ski, V-plane, and the various fast-tanks were long gone. Only a wall-runner cycle remained on the far side. Someone had cleared out much of the structure. Vengeance examined the floor and the layers of dust. He could still detect the trails driven by a few of the vehicles. Whoever took his equipment did so recently.

Vengeance walked to the other side of the hangar garage. He paused a moment in front of the wall-runner. The cycle was about twice the size of a normal motorcycle. Most of its bulk came not from its armored chassis but from the electromagnetic field generators housed above both wheels. He leaned down to check if it was in working order. He ran it through a thirty point inspection he wasn’t even aware he knew. The cycle was ready to go; even its fuel tank was full.

He left the cycle where it stood and continued through the double doors just past the vehicle. This took him in to an equally vast room separated by several glass walls in to a series of rooms. The rooms all had an individual purpose whether it be trophy storage, living space, or lab work. The lab was empty, but the other rooms everything still seemed to be in place. He continued through the hallway and the partitioned glass rooms in to the main work area. A massive super-computer system lined the far wall with several connecting terminals scattered throughout the room. A series of trophy cases on the wall to his left each held a costume. Several were variants of his own, in dark colors with a V or a skull on the chest. Others were in a pattern and style that seemed familiar, but Vengeance couldn’t bring himself to remember from where. Two outfits were gray endeavors, designed for a female, but otherwise much like the one he wore. The others were in navy blue with the skull and crossbones backed by crimson that his original outfit featured. He racked his brain, but he could remember nothing about them.

He walked over to the computer terminal at the base of the super-computer. Everything seemed to be more advanced than he remembered. He keyed in his access code. A light flashed on the terminal and the computer hummed to life. At least this was still in working condition. Even if he could still access his fortune, Vengeance doubted he could afford a set-up as elaborate as this one again.

A sharp stabbing pain struck the back of his neck. Vengeance reached back and yanked a dart from the base of his neck as he turned to look for his attacker. Even as he turned, he could feel the world swimming around him. He saw only the blank, expressionless faces on his two attacker’s masks before his knees buckled. He was unconscious before he even reached the ground.

His vision swam in front of him as the first stabs of consciousness returned to him. Time had passed but he had no idea how long. Through the blurry haze, he could see his two assailants as well as a third individual, dressed in black. Only they seemed to be upside down.

After a few seconds, his vision normalized and he realized it was he who was upside down. His arms and feet were secured by chain. His hands were tied behind him, also by chain. Directly beneath him was a closed iris about fifteen meters in diameter. He could feel the heat radiating from the pit beneath. Images of flames flashed through his head. He could feel them burning him alive. It took all his willpower to keep from screaming out in agony.

His two attackers below him wore tan and white armor. The armor was nondescript with the exception of the chest panel. Each featured an image of a stylized dragon coiled in to a circle. Their masks featured only two thin slots for the eyes and a longer one for their mouth. He knew the costume was familiar to him, but Vengeance couldn’t place where he recognized it from.

The third man looked to be in his mid-eighties. He wore a sharp tuxedo in the style of the thirties, complete with top hat and cane. Despite the age he now carried, the man was instantly recognizable as an old foe. The memories came flooding back to him…

*****

1943. The war was on and the young men of America were gone to serve their country. Even I found myself recruited, but I was left to serve in New Salem as a public relations officer. During the day, I could help out the war effort. By night, I fought crime and Fifth Columnists on the streets of the city.

Jack O’Lantern, Nightbird, the White Lion… most of my enemies vanished as the war movement progressed. Even costumed criminals had some patriotism. Theft during wartime was looked down upon by even the lowliest members of society.

Unfortunately this did not hold true for one of my most elusive enemies, a mysterious jewel thief and bank robber known in criminal circles as the Dapper Gentleman. He acted like a caricature of a snooty Englishman, and he was never seen in anything less than a full tuxedo. But it was his explosive top hat and tommy gun walking stick that made him a true menace to society.

When he came to New Salem he immediately started attacks on high end jewelry and electronics stores. His pension for diamonds accounted for the jewelry store robberies, but from electronic stores he took mostly transistors and various radio boxes.

By his eleventh robbery, the Gentleman had formed a specific pattern in his crimes. He alternated between the jewels and the electronics, and I quickly realized he was working his way from the jeweler with the highest annual income on down. So I was able to stake out the sixth highest grossing jewelry store in the city, Nodell Jewels. Exactly three days after his ransack of Finger Radios and Electronics, he struck Nodell just as I predicted. I watched as the villain, dressed as always in coat and tail, top hat, and a white domino mask made his way silently down the street, followed by four not-quite-as-well-dressed goons.

I swooped down on him and his goons. I came through the plate glass front window that the broke through to enter and landed directly before a half dozen astonished men.

I hurled a trio of v-blades at the front three thugs. I aimed carefully for each man’s gun arm. Each v-blade struck just above the wrist. The cut tendons would make it all but impossible for them to lift their weapons, let alone fire then,

I flung myself forward towards the injured front men. Three swift judo strikes and each man dropped to the floor in turn. The Dapper Gentleman’s other two men raised their tommy guns and prepared to fire on me. I yanked my cape up and around me. Their bullets struck the hardened cape, but none of them made it through to me.

I threw the cape off my shoulders, but not before removing a gas grenade from a pocket hidden inside its folds. I hurled the grenade towards my attackers. It exploded in to a ball of tear-inducing gas. I removed the gas mask from a cape pouch and placed it over my mouth as I advanced. I activated the triggers in my gloves which extended twin rods from their housing on the bottom of my arms. Made of solid steel, the rods stretched about two inches beyond my fist. They increased the impact of my blows several fold while also protecting my hands from bruising and breaking from too many punches.

I struck one goon across the side of the face. He went down hard as I turned and swung at the other thug. By luck the thug moved just in time to avoid my blow. Another turn and an extended leg corrected my mistake.

A blow from behind sent me staggering farther in to the slowly dissipating gas cloud. I turned just in time to take another blow from the Dapper Gentleman’s cane, this time across the chest. He stepped back and lowered the tip of the cane.

I dove out of the way as he fired several shots from the cane-gun. The bullets tore through the air where I just stood. I rolled up and to my feet. As I rose, I hurled a pair of v-blades his way. One severed the cane down the middle. The other struck the back of the Gentleman’s hand. I could hear the bone break even at a distance.

“Damn you! You bastard, damn you!” The Gentleman stumbled forward. He held his broken hand in front of him. I rushed towards the Dapper Gentleman, grabbed him by the lapel, and lifted him in to the air.

“Crime doesn’t pay in my city. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you and your lot will walk away healthy.”

“You’re a fool, Vengeance. You think I wanted to do this?” The Gentleman yanked the domino mask from his face. I realized for the first time that he was Asian in descent. “We all have families to provide for. We don’t have any other choice. War rationing has left my family starving. If we come out of hiding, we could be sent to the damn internment camps! Never mind the fact that we’re Chinese! What do you expect me to do?”

I dropped him to the floor. “We all face hard choices, especially at wartime. But crime is never the answer.”

The Gentleman hurled several invectives in his native tongue. His eyes flamed with a hatred I had only before seen in the mirror. “Damn you, Vengeance! I will see you pay for this!”

For the first time in my career, I questioned my only self-righteousness. Had I done the right thing? Yes, I knew his crimes had to be stopped. But I couldn’t help but feel I could have done something more, something different. Those feelings haunted me for years to come.

*****

The Dapper Gentleman coughed. Vengeance blinked away the sudden flash of memories as he returned to reality. The Gentleman gave him a toothless grin.

The years hadn’t been kind to the Gentleman. His face was heavily wrinkled and weathered, his frame deeply stooped. He leaned hard on his cane. But Vengeance could see the same darkness, the same hate, in the old man’s eyes.

“I’ve waited seventy years for this,” the Gentleman said. “I never thought this day would actually come. But when they called me, told me about this place, told me I could set a trap for you here… I couldn’t pass up the chance. I had to finally get my revenge!”

“I’m sorry for what you went through,” Vengeance said. “But you cannot commit crime without facing the repercussions. To hold this hatred for so long… it’s foolhardy.”

The Gentleman smiled again. “It is you. I wondered. All the pretenders over the years, but not you. You’re the real deal. You’re the one I’ve waited for.”

He turned and waved the cane towards his thugs. “Boys, lower him in to the vat.”

“You’re making a mistake, Gentleman. Don’t become a murderer, too.”

The Gentleman made no effort to turn around. He walked away as the pit doors opened.

Vengeance shook his head. The fools may have taken his gadget belts, but they left the rest of his costume. A costume designed to get him out of any jam.

He pressed his fingers on each hand together in a four part rapid succession pattern. Instantly, blades sprang out from their sheathes beneath his wrists. They sliced straight through the chains holding them. Vengeance threw his hand up to catch the chain before he could fall towards the pit.

His hands were free, but he was still falling towards a fiery demise. He used his body to swing the chain back. He flew back and away from his foes, even as the two armored men realized what had happened. As the chain swung back towards the guards, Vengeance released the chain and hurled himself through the air. He crashed down on the thugs feet first. He heard ribs shatter beneath one guard’s armor, but the other kept his footing.

The guard threw a fist towards his head, and Vengeance threw his hand up to block. They traded blows for several moments, each man meeting the other’s attacks with a block. Vengeance grimaced as the other man got past his guard and delivered a palm strike to the ribs. He ignored the pain, turned, and swept the feet out from underneath his foe. The other man fell hard on his back. Vengeance leaped in to the air and drove a foot down hard in to his gut. As the air rushed from the armored man’s body, Vengeance bent down and delivered a knockout blow straight to the skull.

The Gentleman turned at the sound of the commotion. Vengeance rose from a top the unconscious man. He stalked towards his elderly foe.

“Who gave you the information? Who sent you after me?”

“I don’t know their names,” the Gentleman said. He stumbled backwards and fell to the floor. All I know is what they call themselves, the Order of the Dragon. They gave me this location, my grandsons their armor, everything. Told us to be here, told us we could finally have our revenge. It was supposed to be easy.”

“Things that are supposed to be easy never are. You should be old enough to know that, Gentleman.”

“You should be old enough to stay dead.”

Vengeance nodded. “We all have our faults.”

Vengeance lunged forward and his hand struck a sharp blow across the Gentleman’s shoulder. The Gentleman’s eyes rolled back as he fell instantly unconscious. Vengeance reached out to keep the elderly man from falling.

He carried the Gentleman to the door. He knew that he could no longer remain in this location. Someone knew the Citadel’s whereabouts, and he couldn’t risk its compromise again.

He accessed the computer terminal again. With only a few keystrokes, he accessed the Swiss bank account he used to channel Vengeance’s funds. His eyes went wide beneath his cowl as he saw the amount scroll across. He counted the zeroes, all nine of them.

Twenty billion dollars? Is such an amount even possible?

Vengeance made record of the Swiss account, closed down the access program, and pulled up the defense grid. In less than a minute, he stared at the self-destruct command screen. A read-out showed all self-destruct systems to be ready for activation. He keyed in the timer. Twenty minutes would give him more than enough time.

He had loaded his three foes on to the back of the wall-runner in a quarter of that time. By the ten minute mark, he was hurling down the tunnels at just under a hundred miles an hour.

He was already at the surface near the police station when the charges exploded. No one saw the walls of the Citadel shatter and crumble in on themselves. No one saw millions of dollars in advanced technology melt under the thousands of degrees of heat. No one could see thousands of tons of rubble fall on the fire pit in the center of the cavern.

The criminals safely stored away, Vengeance whisked back across the city. He needed answers, and he thought he knew where to find them.