X-Mas in Milwaukee: The Dreaded Reveal

[x-dominion.livejournal.com]

Kane, Terry and Brand track down Leather Boy and learn the true identity of the Professor.



Tracing the call to Hollis' phone was a simple task for the police services, leading them to an apartment above a downtown fetish shop. They climbed the narrow stairs leading to the door, aware that below, uniformed police were securing the other exits to make sure that 'Leather Boy' didn't escape. Unlike last time, they came armed with a warrant. Kane paused at the door while the others unholstered their weapons.

"Brand, you're going in last this time. Try not to gun anyone down indiscriminately. Terry, you'll cover me going in. Questions?"

"Yes. If he is wearing leather fetish wear, can I shoot him?" Terry joked, rolling into position on the other side of the door.

"Someone going by the name 'Leather Boy' might actually enjoy being shot," Brand replied, rolling her eyes at Kane. "And fine, Boy Scout, we'll do it your way. Let's hope they give themselves up like good little criminal masterminds."

Kane ignored her comments, and gave the door a push. With his enhanced strength, the jamb broke and exploded inwards. Garrison went through low, clearing the door and letting Terry move behind him tracking with her weapon. Brand would follow her, giving them three weapons with clear firing arcs on all of the areas of the apartment that faced the door. It turned out to be somewhat unnecessary.

The man sitting in the computer chair was gaping, a peanut butter sandwich halfway to his mouth. On the screen behind him, they could see a video playing, and whipcracks were followed by shrieks of pain over the speakers. He was no taller than Terry, with skinny limbs and a small potbelly. He was only dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of briefs, which unfortunately didn't hide his obvious erection from the video he'd been watching. Balding and narrow faced, he looked like a rather sad real estate agent or insurance salesman who had just slid out of his thirties into the other side of forty.

"Uh-" Was all he said in response to the guns pointed at him.

Terry rolled in behind Kane, gun held and braced in front of her as she swept the room behind Kane and cleared the doorway for Brand. Her nose wrinkled in distaste when she settled on 'Leather Boy'. "Freeze," she said, also somewhat unnecessarily.

"FBI," Brand filled in, icily. "We have a warrant to search these premises. You would be...?"

"Gene Lorenne but - you can't just barge in here!" he said, obviously flustered.

"Can't we, 'Leather Boy'?"

"I- I don't have anything to say to you."

"Really? Because I'm about ten seconds away from charging you under conspiracy to espionage following an attempted break in at a DARPA top-secret research facility. A crime which carries a mandatory life sentence in federal prison, Gene. Still don't feel like talking?"

The peanut butter sandwich hit the floor with a wet splort and he collapsed back into his chair, as if Garrison's words had been a physical blow. "I didn't do anything. I just made some calls. That's it."

"To who?" Terry asked sharply, lowering her gun to point at the floor, though still held ready as she circled the room slowly, turning just enough to check over her shoulder for other rooms.

"To Hollis. Oh, sorry, "Mister Immortal"." He sneered, making air quotes. "That jackass said I wasn't good enough for his little group. I showed him."

"Back up, Gene. Start from the beginning."

"Fine. About six months ago, I see an ad for a superhero support group. You know, use your abilities to help others. So I get dressed up and wander over, only to get kicked out because I don't have powers. I mean, what kind of idiot thinks that you have to have powers to be a superhero? Batman, hello!" He said. "A couple of days after they turfed me, I get a call from this guy. Says he wants to play a big joke on Hollis and his friends by sending them after this super villain that doesn't exists. Tells me if I'm willing to call Hollis at the date and time he asked and read a script in a villain voice, he'll pay me five hundred bucks each time. Even better, I get to make Hollis look even dumber than he already is."

"Not exactly difficult." Brand murmured, then rounded on the small man. "Who is this random guy? And what was his connection with the group? He obviously knew Hollis."

"No clue. He just said he saw what happened between me and Hollis, and thought I might like to get back at him. Five hundred bucks is five hundred bucks." He shrugged. "I got a phone by FedEx a few days later, which he calls me on when he's got something set up for Hollis. Hasn't been more than five or six times. Usually I just call up, say some crazy shit about my zombie lab ready to destroy him or something and hang up. That's it."

As if on cue, a cellphone rang, and Gene reached for it. Kane held up one hand to stop him, turning the phone over and noting the number. It was the same one that they'd found on Hollis' cell history, titled 'The Professor'. He thumbed it on.

"Gene, Gene, my man. I've got some bad news. Looks like our deal is over. So if you just want to toss this phone into the lake, we can-"

"We can what, Professor?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, before the other person finally spoke. "Well, it was bound to happen sometime. What happen? Gene tell some undercover cop while she was spanking him or something."

"You might say that."

"Hey, I know that voice. Last I remember, you were tied up and destined for the black market in Symkaria, Beardy. I had a nice buyer lined up too. Some Chinese dragonlady who was going to implant studs under the skin of your dick and make you-"

"What's your involvement here, Masters?" Kane cut him off sharply.

"Well, money. I didn't think it was that hard to figure out. One of my people was keeping an eye on Hollis' little group at the YMCA incase they became useful for something, and saw the fight between Gene and Craig. Didn't take much to twist that moron into thinking I was some kind of secret benefactor, although coming up with those stupid super villain plots is harder than you'd think."

"We have most of your team in custody."

"You're welcome to them. Local mercenaries, hired and trained by chosen cut-outs." Masters sounded altogether too pleased with himself. "Look, buddy, you won. You got to beat the bad guys. It just happens that, costs factored in, the last six months was worth a cool eight figures in my bank account. So you have your little moment."

"You think I can't track you down?"

"No. But I think you won't. Too many other priorities and all that. I'm just a crooked businessman after all. With all the psychos, ex-military experiments and war criminals out there, I'm sure I'm all the way down on your list, between getting a haircut and cueing up 'Mad Men' on Netflix." He laughed. "You enjoy Milwaukee now." The phone went dead.

"Masters?" Terry echoed queryingly after the conversation ended, looking first to Kane, then over at Brand.

"General low life with links to the mutant slave trade, as well as any scheme that gets him an income without actually having to work for it," Brand replied. "SHIELD has a file on him, but from the sound of that, our Mr. Kane has run into him directly."

"Next time, I'm going to pop the little boil." Kane said. This was the second time that Masters had suckered another group into doing his dirty work, and walked away free and richer from the experience. Maybe he wasn't at the top of the list, but he was climbing the charts fast. "We're done here. Gene, the local police want to have a talk with you. Don't cause them any grief and you might avoid charges."

"Either of them can feel free to question me. I have a police woman's outfit in the back." He said, staring at Brand and Terry. Kane sighed and walked to the door.

"That is just about enough of Milwaukee."