The Prospects (Short Story): Above the Stars (2 page)

“The round you played solo against him? He deliberately scratched on the eight-ball instead of sinking it. Wanted you to feel good on your last night as a free man.”

“And I thought I played the best game of my life against the greatest crossbowman in the world. He whined about losing for months.”

“Bart talks like a rodeo clown, but acts like a cowboy. He sticks with his posse no matter how bad it gets.”

“I guess that’s true. He rescued me and the Prospects when Griffin Tower got attacked. I still say I won that pool game fair-in-square.”

“Enough about him.” Chak pointed to the runway. “Look at your favorite girl.”

“Why?”

“Trust me. Want the brunette?”

“No, my wife has brown hair. I guess Bart told you about that situation.”

“He told me you found out she cheated on you at a team meeting. That’s why he asked me to request you to come out here. Figured some time away would clear your head.”

“Here I thought you were trying to schmooze your way onto the New York Guardians.”

“I don’t schmooze. I know who I am and what I can do. Back to the girls. How about the one in fishnets?”

The dark-haired girl in a fishnet catsuit gave Alex a flashback to his encounter with Mind Dame, which in turn invoked his bittersweet and confused feelings towards Trista. He wanted to forget how the villainess who gave him his most humiliating defeat was also the young woman became his closet friend. “Bad association with those.”

“The tall one with purple hair?”

The hair alone made him think of Candilyn’s manic grin and the night she almost forced herself on him. “Definitely not.”

“The busty redhead?”

Redhead. Knockout Rose. Kayleigh. The girl with enough guts to stand alongside metahumans despite having no superpowers or mastered skills. She worked hard to earn his approval. Alex consciously refused to nurture any romantic feelings towards her. “Just … no.”

“Why so picky?”

“They remind me of women I’m trying to forget right now.”

“Forget clearing your head. You gotta clear your heart.”

“The tiny one on the pole. I’ll take her.”

“Right, Asian cutie in a star-spangled bikini. Focus on the weird dots tattooed on her thighs. Stare at those and don’t look at anything else.”

“Why am I doing this?”

“Old First Nations trick. I’m going to tell you two horrible things, and staring at something beautiful will make ‘em easier to take.”

“Does it have to be strippers?”

“The art galleries are closed. At least here the ladies don’t mind being stared at.”

Alex sighed and stared.

Chak whispered just loud enough for Alex to hear him over the DJ’s heavy backbeat. “First, those guys in the basement? They were torn apart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not cut, not shot, not blown up, torn. I’m talking ripped apart joint-from-joint. Something strong enough to lift a car walked through that door.”

“I’ll have Max put out an APB to contact all known metahumans with super-strength in the area. We’ll get a list of suspects.”

The stripper danced towards Alex.

“You do that. I ain’t good with computers, don’t even carry a cell phone.” said Chak. “Second, the bodies were warm. Just killed warm.”

“Are you sure?”

“Blood gets cold fast after it leaves the body. Theirs wasn’t. Couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes old.”

“That’s pretty precise.”

“You go around cutting people, you get to know the feeling of blood real well.”

“So whatever hit those guys, we barely missed it?”

“Yep. We could’ve caught whatever it was if you didn’t make us stop for coffee.”

“Or we could’ve gotten torn to pieces ourselves.”

Chak shrugged. “I’ve been torn apart before. The important thing is how you put yourself back together, eh?”

The stripper thrust her hips towards Alex and stretched her bikini string. He tucked a bill into it without looking.

“What do you want to do next?” asked Alex.

“Hope the cops find something when they clean up the scene so …”

The stripper climbed off the runway and straddled Alex.

“Hey,” said Alex, “what are you doing?”

“You gave me a twenty, honey,” she said. “You get a personal dance.”

“I didn’t mean to …”

She grinded against his lap.

Chak chuckled. “Told you to bring singles.”

“No, stop. Really.” Alex pushed her shoulders.

The stripper jumped back. “Keep your hands off. No touching.”

“Sweetie,” said Chak, “it’s past his bedtime. Bring ‘em buns over here. There’s another twenty in it for ya.”

The stripper climbed onto Chak’s lap. He looked over her shoulder and said, “Agent, go back to your hotel. We’ll meet at Pike Place tomorrow at noon.”

The shouting shoppers in Pike Place Market hurt Alex’s ears. He had no idea how the ocean could have any fish left in it after all of the ones displayed on blocks of shaved ice and thrown back and forth into newspapers were caught. He also saw more fruits than he knew existed. For all of the noise and craziness, though, it still seemed tame compared to New York at rush hour.

He walked past dozens of restaurants before he saw Chak at a booth beneath a sign that read “SAIGON.” It took him a minute to recognize the laughing tiny girl in a Mariners cap and Seahawks windbreaker sitting next to him as the stripper.

“That’s so funny,” she said to Chak. “You’re so Canadian, always saying, ‘eh?’ ‘eh’?”

“You only say it if you expect to be agreed with. It’s like, ‘This is good chicken pho, eh?’”

She slurped a spoonful of noodles. “It’s not as good as grandma’s.”

Chak tilted his hat back as Alex approached the table. “You remember Lam from last night, right?”

“What’s she doing here?”

“Well, after you left, we got to talking, one thing led to another ...”

Lam cuddled Chak. “And another, and another, and another …”

“Next thing I know, her grandma’s cooking us breakfast. This girl’s got vitality. You can pick ‘em, agent.”

“We have to talk about our investigation,” said Alex. “It’s serious business.”

She pointed to the steaming bowl of noodles. “But I’m not done with my chicken pho.”

“Come on,” said Chak. “She gave us some excitement. Let’s give her some.”

Alex stood at the table’s edge. “Max and the other detectives called up every legally recognized superhero with super-strength between Eugene and Vancouver and as far east as Billings. The only ones he couldn’t get solid alibis from were the least likely suspects because they couldn’t fit through that tiny basement door or leave quickly like our guy did. No anti-heroes in the northwest have that power. There’s no accounts of super-strong flyers in the city last night, and the few super-strong teleporters are accounted for.”

“What about villains?”

“No reported sightings of any with that kind of powers.”

“Villains?” asked Lam. “Are you guys superheroes?”

“Damn right.” Chak drew a knife and balanced its point on his finger.

“Oh my God! I said you looked like Quickhatch from those De Novo comics.” She poked Chak’s chest. “Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t. I said I get that a lot.”

“Wow. Most guys don’t get cooler the morning after. So why don’t you wear a mask and tights like the other superheroes anymore?”

Chak said, “I’m too old for that crap.”

“How old are you, anyway?”

“Darling, I’d tell you all my secrets, but I don’t know where to start.”

Lam turned to Alex. “Are you a superhero too?”

Alex decided Lam didn’t need to know about his past as Agent Exo. “No, a MAB agent.”

“Cool! Can I see your badge?”

Alex flipped it out.

She seemed disappointed. “A picture card? I hoped it’d be a star. I like stars.”

Alex ignored her. “The cops identified eight bodies in Xiao Fang Zi. All had criminal records. The clean-up crew found the rest of David. His pockets were torn open. Piles of money and recognizable drugs were around him. No MacGuffin. Nothing else seemed to be taken.”

“Any other clues?”

“A shop owner said he saw a tall Chinese man in a blue suit. The arms looked wet below the elbows.”

“When you say ‘suit,’ you mean superhero leotards?”

“No, a business suit. The witness noted it looked expensive. That’s all we got right now.”

“Did the boy say anything?”

Alex shook his head. “All he said was ‘Qing Long.’ Max says that translates to dark-blue dragon.”

“You mean Azure Dragon,” said Lam. “I mean, to us Vietnamese it’s Thanh Long, but it’s the same story.”

Chak turned to her. “What story?”

Alex said, “We don’t have time for this. Max is …”

“Agent, shut up,” said Chak. “Lam, keep talking.”

“Every Asian who’s not a total banana knows about Azure Dragon.” She pointed at Alex. “The way you were looking at my tattoos, I assumed you did.”

“What are you talking about?”

Lam lifted her cut-off jeans to the top of her right thigh. “Okay, you know what these stars are, right?”

“Those are stars?”

“Uh, duh. What did you think they were?”

“Girl, you make stargazing fun,” said Chak.

Lam giggled. “In western astrology these stars form Sagittarius, Scorpio, Libra, and Virgo. But in Asian astrology they make one constellation, Azure Dragon. He’s one of four main symbols.” She lifted her left pant leg to reveal more star tattoos. “This is Vermillion Phoenix, and on the back of my legs I have Black Turtle and White Tiger.”

“Tell me more about the dragon,” said Chak.

Alex asked, “Why did you get those tattooed on you?”

“To remember that what’s above the stars is heaven.”

“Fine, but why on your legs?”

“Because what’s above the stars,” she raised her eyebrows twice, “is heaven.”

Chak laughed.

Alex groaned.

Lam lowered her shorts. “Most guys like that joke.”

“Don’t mind Agent O’Farrell,” said Chak. “He’s frustrated because he hasn’t figured out we’re just bags of viscera trying to impose our will on a cold, vast universe that was here long before us and will go on long after we’re gone.”

Lam shrugged. “That’s true for most people.”

“And his wife cheated on him.”

Alex turned red from equal parts of anger and embarrassment. “Did you have to tell her that?”

“Aw, sad,” said Lam, “but you’re still wearing a wedding ring.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you going to work it out or leave her?”

“None of your business.”

“Geez. No need to get snippy.”

Chak said, “Yeah, agent. Be nice to the little lady.”

Alex grit his teeth. “Chak, I want to find a drug that killed three people and stop a mass murdering vigilante. Meet me outside when you’re done playing with the hooker.”

Lam narrowed her eyes. “Hey, I’m a stripper, not a hooker. World of difference.”

“Maybe in your world.” Alex walked away.

“Steve, enjoy your time in North Carolina,” Alex said into his smartphone. “Think about the talk we had. I have no idea what a former New York Guardian and a renegade anti-hero are doing in North Carolina, but don’t get involved.” After a pause he continued, “Then step up and be a hero. I have to run. I’m in the middle of an investigation.”

He put his phone in his pocket when Chak pushed the glass door open. “Nice of you to finally come out. We need to …”

Chak interrupted. “I don’t know where you get off insulting a lady.”

“Lam’s not exactly a lady.”

“Insult any woman again, those will be your last words.”

Alex stood in front of him. “Is that a threat? Because threatening a federal agent is a felony.”

Chak tilted his hat over his eyes. “Take it however you want, big man with a badge.”

“Be as pissed off as you want. You didn’t have to tell that stripper about my wife.”

“Ain’t exactly a secret. Every New York Guardian knew before you did.”

Alex clenched his fists, breathed deeply, and loosened his fingers. “I don’t know why you got involved with this case, but I’m at my limit. You do one more stupid thing and I’ll make this a full MAB investigation. We’ll find the MacGuffin and the killer without you, and if you get in our way I’ll arrest you for interference. Got it?”

Chak tilted his hat back and stared into Alex’s eyes. “What were you saying about Max?”

“He’s got some warrants to search some suspected smuggling fronts on the docks and is waiting with a team of uniformed cops. It’s a few blocks south of that strip joint you dragged me to last night, so if your bare feet can handle it we can walk.”