Question DeVille's Luck

DeVille's Luck
A Whateley Universe fan fic

Devil's Luck; Extraordinarily good fortune, as in You've the luck of the devil

~*~

(Part 1)

My name is James, Kara James.

My life changed dramatically on my eighth birthday. My mother's name was Annabelle James, and she was the CEO of Black Swan Military Contracts based out side San Cabrillo, Karedonia. She had a long history with Gizmatic having attended school with him and helped put him in power by doing the pre-invasion prep work in country. She retired from Gizmatic's government and started her own company when I was conceived. I'm not sure why I didn't grow up with prince Jobe or any of that social circle, maybe Mom wanted better for me then that. Which might explain why Black Swan mostly did work for legitimate governments, black ops that they couldn't handle for whatever reason, rather then working for super villains or the Syndicate even though she knew most of the major players personally.

I grew up with a dozens of 'aunts' and 'uncles', hard men and women who had a variety of skills ranging from hand to hand exerts and power suit jockeys to cordon blue trained chiefs working the mess hall. Throw in former Hollywood special effects specialists, a combat wizard named Harry who fights the things that go bump in the night, and hackers that could strip a secure network of all it's secrets. My mother had assembled quite a team, and those who required the services of independent contractors knew it. When Mom first started those clients where less then thrilled she was based out of Karedonia and had worked for Wilkins, but Black Swan's reputation for discretion and thoroughness had them at the top of the mercenary pile. Working from a country with no extradition treaties and no MCO jurisdiction was just smart business for a squad made up of 30% paranormal people.

Granted more then a few of the team members didn't know what to do with a precocious and... OK I was a down right nosy brat growing up. Add in I as the boss' daughter and my mom could take any of them on the sparring mat and did so regularly... I learned a lot of things that Child's Services would have been having fits over if they knew.

Not that Karedonia has Child's Services like in the United States, of which I was also a citizen. No Karedonia is... well to borrow a line from Mr Lucas “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.” But it was home, and beautiful. We had a rather charming beach house which was at the heart of our training compound. There where all manner of work shops were the tools of Black Swan's trade where repaired or made, barracks to house the staff and gun dogs and a training center. A dry dock jutted into a small but deep bay. Cradled in the dock was a decommissioned 378-foot High Endurance Coast Guard cutter which Black Swan was retrofitting to work like the SHIELD helicarrier. Why do you seem surprised? Karedonia is Black Market Central. And with all the mad scientist types that call the island home, or at least 'vacation home', there is always fun new tech to play with for those who can afford it. To this day I suspect that there was more then fluoride put in the water supply.

But all the tech and training does little when your guard is down for what should have been a fun day celebrating a kid's birthday. The tech and special effects crew where setting up for a light and sound show, several of the gun dogs where out fishing, and me and Mom where out looking for an outfit for me to wear.

San Cabrillo still has that bygone 50's era vibe that has managed to avoid the ultra modern that has taken over the capital and most of the island. The town had also manged to avoid the tourist trappings of the other villages, as there where no hotels or time share lairs in the area. Which is quite a feat as it was only settled a little over a decade ago. Eighty percent of San Cabrillo's residents where formerly in the villain business as tech support, muscle, and even a few B to C listers from both sides who retired. All in all they just wanted to just forget about the Biz and enjoy the sun and surf. Mom got a pass as our compound was several miles down the road, and our people quietly encouraged the new to the scene recruiters, law enforcement, lawyers, and the regular tourists from hassling them. San Cabrillo was connected to the rest of the island by one road that wandered through the jungle which was not the friendliest patch of shrubbery, as Prince Jobe had has his creations, both flora and fauna released within.

The town's open air market was and still is an intoxicating place, and I don't mean because whole-sale drug and alcohol distribution that goes on there. That didn't happen in this one, though there was some illegal tech being passed around that day. No, it was the people. Until my dieing day, I will be a people watcher because of that market. Over a dozen languages could be heard as prices where negotiated, threats where exchanged and bargains struck. And the common place sales of food, clothing, and entertainment went on side by side with what the greater world called illegal.

November 11th, 2001

“Now Kara, don't you want to look...” Mom started to coax as she held up a flora print dress.

I cut her off stubbornly shaking my head “No, rather get some new khakis and a shirt.”

“What, so you can rip the shoulders out of another one?” Mom huffed as she harshly rehung the dress.

“I didn't rip them out, I asked Julia to alter them properly.” I protested, for I had asked the company costume maven Julia Dietrich for the custom work. Mom never objected to Julia doing alterations before, why should she be protesting now? Back then I liked how I look with bare shoulders but still having sleeves, and I still do.

Mom sighed and looked down at me. “Kar, you know your grandparents are flying in. I want you to look like something other then ...” she paused trying to think of something to compare me to.

“GI Joe Barbie?” I supplied, as more then a few of the local kids had called me that, especially after I'd field stripped and reassembled a hand gun for show and tell last year.

Not that I looked like Barbie. No, that look went to Mom with her blond hair, crystal blue eyes and perfectly tanned skin. Me, I take after my father with my tumble of dark curls, light brown eyes and skin tone that had people thinking I was either Hispanic, a light skinned African, or Native American. Even Mom admits she wasn't sure what my father was. She didn't even know his name. That day I was wearing Daisy dukes and the red short sleeved shirt with the Gizmatic Sprocket logo on the front. Mom was in a smart light gray business suit that said “Professional” with a capital P. I knew she had at least five weapons on her as well as a PFD. I was also armed, though only with two knives. I was hoping Mom would let me carry a gun now that I was turning eight.

Mom gave me a thin smile. “I was thinking little savage, but GI Joe Barbie works. Look, lets get this one dress, and you can get something you like to change into after your your grandparents leave to go to their hotel.”

“Anything? And why aren't they staying with us?”

Mom held up a finger “Within reason.” she said avoiding my second question.

“All right.... but no heels to go with the dress.”

“Sandals. Nice ones, not the ratty ones you have at home. Actually we should find you a new pair of every day ones while we're here... go try this on Kar. And come out so I can see it, don't just go in there and wait for a bit then come out saying it fit. I want to see it.”

She knew me so well, that had been what I was considering. With a grimace I grabbed the dress and headed for the small cubical that was set up as a fitting room. I gave it a once over looking for hidden cameras and the like, but this seller was honest and didn't take part in any voyeur porn shots of naked customers. Striping off my shirt I pulled the dress on over my head, leaving my shorts in place. While I suspected Mom knew, I really didn't want her to see the lacy, and slightly sheer, thong I was wearing. It, and it's three sisters that where hidden under my mattress where early gifts from Julia. It's a good thing Mom has had me doing my own laundry since I could reach the controls while on a step stool, else they'd never get cleaned without her knowing. Smoothing the dress I stepped out and gave a slight twirl to show it off to Mom.

“Very nice dear but you really should have taken off the shorts, they ruin the lines.”

“Didn't feel like it Mom,” I replied as I ducked back into the changing room.

Mom let out a sigh. “Kara, what have I told you about going without underwear?”

“That it's only OK at night when I am going to sleep.” I parroted back as I changed out of the dress. “And only starlets who are out for attention go out in public during the day without. And you hate working for attention seeking starlets.”

“That's right. Let's get that paid for, find what ever it is you want, then back to the compound. The fishermen should be back by now with dinner.”

The walk back to the compound as the last pleasant memory I have of my mother.

Black Swan's compound was surrounded by a decorative six foot tall stone wall that concealed some of the best force field generators and automated weapons turrets on the market. It also didn't look like a training center for a mercenary outfit; with the Spanish style architecture of the buildings gave it a country club feel as Mom's business plan is reward her people well ans let them unwind in the lap of luxury between jobs. She even kept shrinks on staff for after action help.

Charles Godfree, our gate keeper for the current shift, gave us a wave as he opened the wrought iron that blocked the drive. Charles was a new addition to Black Swan, and had only been with us for a few months. He'd been with the MCO until ideological conflicts and politics forced him out. Their loss was our gain as besides being an excellent power suit driver, he had a knack for keeping them running in the field without a support system and he was an effective trainer.

“Good timing ladies, the elder's pilot just radioed in to say the jet will be landing in fifteen and should be here ten after that. The fish and burgers are on the grill as well.”

“Thank you Charles. Kara, hurry up and get changed.”

“Yes mom.” I said before scampering away.

I was stripping off the lacy panties when it began to get hard to think. Dropping them, and not caring that my lower body was bare, I fought against the haze to press my face to the window to try and see what was going on. The gun dogs and support staff I could see around the compound where just standing there staring into space, their faces slack. Mom staggered out from the porch, looking dazed. As if her appearance was a trigger, the shields came up and the intruder defense system kicked on a few seconds after; a fine mist of a paralytic agent began spraying from hundreds of nozzles all over the compound.

People dropped like puppets with their strings cut.

Shaking the haze I threw clothing on and covered my bare skin, mouth and eyes as best I could as the intruder defense system in the house kicked on. I hesitated then, debating what to do next. My decision was made when I saw armed men sweep through the gate, which should have been locked down when the shield came up. I grabbed my go bag like Mom had trained me to do and darted through the house. I could hear muffled orders being issued as I skidded into the pantry and flipped open a concealed key pad. Quickly tapping in my code a section of flooring popped up allowing me access to the evacuation tunnel. Red lights came on as I dropped down and pulled the hatch closed behind me. The red motion detector light fixtures flickered to life ahead of me as I pelted down the corridor as I tried to decide if I wanted to stay in the panic room that was ahead or go out the escape hatch. I was worried whoever was invading might some how know about our panic room and had the equipment to break into it. A sound I thought was the the front door coming down solidified my plan in a hurry, and kicked my speed up several notches until I came to the the exit hatch and triggered it's release.

~*~

I shivered under my makeshift shelter as the rain pounded down through the leaves. I'd fled into the jungle figuring that even with the Jobe-spawn it was still safer then sticking to the road and being picked up when our attackers left. I planned on hitting one of the safe houses Mom had set up in the village in the morning and... I hadn't planned past that point. If I needed to I was could “borrow” a bike or a motor scooter once night fell again so I could put some distance between what had happened and myself if I needed to. I didn't like the idea of just leaving every one, but... I shoved the thoughts down and away before tears could come to my eyes. I didn't have time to cry. This was just like survival camping with Mom.

Just without her.

I pushed it down again and fished a power bar out of my pack, and began to nibble. I needed to keep my energy up, though I also needed to think about where my next meal was coming from as I didn't have many more bars. I could beg, but people in San Cabrillo knew me, and once they saw me word would get around, and possibly to the wrong ears. I would have to resort to stealing from the general store or the gas station. Preferably the gas station as the owner of the store had an apartment over the place and he had a BIG plasma rifle in place of his left arm. Sweet guy though, he gave us kids free ice cream when we got “A”s in school.

I was beginning to nod off when screeching “EXTERMINATE!!” assaulted my ears. The Emperor had sent in the Pepper Police... this was so not of the good. Panicking I shoved my things back into my go-bag before running deeper into the jungle and away from San Cabrillo.

Sunrise found me sleep deprived and soaked to my skin as it had started raining just before sun rise. I had pulled myself into the crook of a tree once it got to the point I couldn't run any more, and tried to get some rest. Which was next to impossible due to the nightmares that bubbled up as soon as my eyes closed. Several times I was damn lucky that when I started awake I didn't fall off my perch. I resolved to tie myself in if I needed to sleep in a tree again.

I slithered down to the ground, wishing I could grab a shower to tame my unruly mane of hair which in the humidity had poofed out into a mock-Afro. I dug out a spare shoe lace and quickly bound the mess up as I debated my next step. Mom had safe houses and supply stashes all over the island, all of them hidden behind shell corporations or under the name of an A list villain people didn't want to mess with even if they where reported MIA for several years. If I got to one of those I would have a safe place to wait and see how things worked out. I was hoping word from Mom was already waiting for me and we'd be having ice cream by the end of the day. Nodding to myself I pulled out a Karedonia topographic map and my compass to get my barring. I had a rough idea where I was, I just needed to find the road to the next town over from San Cabrillo.

Once I got to the road, there was a slow moving truck trundling along and it was child's play to hop up onto the tailgate to hitch a ride. Monica Bay was very much a tourist trap, despite, or perhaps because of, a local legend. The story went that had that the Portuguese priest the island had originally been named for had come to the bay to baptize people, but a practitioner of one of the native island religions objected to this and laid a curse on the priest. When he entered the water he was transformed into a woman. She took the changes in stride and continued to preach until her death. When she died a church was erected around her grave, and the alter set on it. A church which just happened to be right next to one of Mom's safe houses.

The Church of Sao Monica was a humble stone building, that was like an old nun sitting out in the middle of a rock concert looking dignified and slightly amused by the hype and hustle around her. Mom's safe house was on the second floor of a surf shop that I could see was doing brisk business from three blocks away. I could also see a van parked so that anyone inside could see the stairs leading up to the second floor. The hair went up on the back of my neck and I ducked behind a mail box to watch them. If the people in the van had been Gizmatic's people... well there wouldn't be a van. Gizmatic's surveillance was wholly electronic with his Nomads and other devises. There was no need for fail-able biological witnesses when technology never slept, had to run to the rest room, or forgot to turn on the equipment.

The only other people I could think might be staking out the safe house where the people that had taken over the compound. Which meant I couldn't go there, or any of the other safe houses on the island, as either they had someone waiting to snatch or kill people who show up or they had left something fun to greet anyone dropping in if they didn't have enough people to cover every location. Squaring my shoulders I turned my back on the surf shop and trotted around the block to where I'd seen a phone booth. While most countries where phasing out the archaic land line Gizmatic had seen the wisdom of setting up secure lines around the country for those who wouldn't risk cell calls while planning their next job. Coming to the one I'd seen I dialed 555, which was a free call to the emergency response operator.

“555 emergency response, how may I direct your call?” came a perky, yet synthetic, voice reminiscent of the Star Trek computer.

“I saw a man in a van near the surf shop. I got a glimpse inside and there was something under a tarp in the back. I think there was blood and long blonde hair coming out from under the thing.” I said putting a quiver in my voice. “I think the guy was the one the news was talking about last week, the one who kidnapped that wealthy girl last week in Key West...”

Karedonia might be a haven for the villains of the world, but there where rules. For one you could commit a crime and skedaddled down here to hide after the fact, say after successfully kidnapping then ransoming a girl you could come down with your ill gotten loot. But if you came down here while still committing your crime, say by bringing your victim with you, Gizmatic wants nothing to do with you as he has enough trouble with other nations and you will be punished harshly. Even of the men watching the safe house weren't arrested, the disruption might buy me enough time to get into the apartment.

“Thank you for your vigilance citizen, enforcers have been dispatched to the location you specified. Please stay on the line in case we require more in....”

I hung up and hurried back to watch the fun.

I arrived in time to see the van pulling away as flames emerging from the windows of the Sao Monica to crawl up the stone walls. Before the robotic fire department arrived, the flames had spread to the surf shop. People panicked and scattered as the largest fire bots, little more then self guided firetrucks, began to spray down the buildings. Smaller more human form bots plunged into the flames to locate those trapped within. Darlek “officers” also showed up, along with Nomad Enforcers to act as crowd control and to look for the van I had called in. The van was long gone though. The last to arrive where some ambulances, with human and robotic medics.

Guilt gnawed at my stomach as the first victim was brought out of the church. It looked like the priest if the remains of his clothing where anything to go by, and he was badly burned. Two of the medics moved in to take him from the robot, and the safety orange machine turned to go back in as soon as the man was handed over.

As nearly a dozen people where pulled out of the church and the surf shop, and part of me vowed to make sure those who'd done this would pay dearly, I melted into the crowd. I don't know what lead me, but looking back I think I almost felt like someone was lightly pulling my hand guiding me away from the fire more in land. The tourist shops and restaurants became hotels and rental properties mixed with a few year round properties. Ahead of me I saw a bright red sports car with a Realtor Agency's magnetic decal on the door. A door which was standing wide open and the owner no where in sight.

Thinking I could maybe snag some cash so I could eat, I dove into the driver's seat and began to paw through what was there. The Tug drew me to the realtor's briefcase which was sitting unlocked on the passenger seat, some papers sticking out of the gap like they had been putting something in when the fire drew them away. I'm not sure why I actually opened the thing, but inside there was no cash, just papers. I was about to close the case back up when one sheet with a red boarder caught my eye. Drawing it out I saw it was a list of addresses, dates, and two string of numbers one marked Box and the other Code. It took a few moments to realize that this was a list of open rental properties and the codes to get into any key box that was required and the shut down code for the security systems. I grinned and started to tuck the paper into my pack, stopping only when a nagging feeling settled into my gut. If I took the paper, then the Realtor would suspect it had been stolen or left where someone else could get at it, and they might change their security codes to prevent just what I was now planning on doing. Finding a legal pad and pen in briefcase I quickly copied down the information, taking only my copy.

Picking an address that was close at hand I headed there and didn't have much of any trouble getting into the beach house. Inside I found about what you'd expect from a commercial rental property; sturdy but nice furniture that had the personality of a hotel room. The place had two bedrooms, a bath, and a large kitchen. Satellite TV and internet as well, though there was no computer, just a marked cable sticking out of the wall. There where even little hotel shampoo and soap in the linen closet in the bathroom.

I spent a long time under the shower jets, letting the falling water hide my tears.

~*~

November 14th, 2001

I returned to the Black Swan compound in the middle of the night, wary and on alert. Home... home was in ruins. The barracks where barely standing with the massive holes blown out of the walls. The power suits had been opened like cans of tuna and left scattered around. Brass of various calibers littered the ground, and the walls where scorched from plasma blasts. The house was surprisingly intact and the cutter was missing from the dry dock. I wasn't sure how that was possible, as the last update Mom had gotten said it wasn't sea or air worthy. The one good thing was someone had cleaned up the bodies, though there was still blood stains.

Pushing my rebelling stomach down I began to pick through I did manage to find a few useful things in the wreckage, like some camping equipment, tools, and some cash that scavengers hadn't gotten to. One of the companies tactical tablets was also intact and I used it to tap into the security system's off site records.

Fifteen minutes later I wished I hadn't.

I saw the team go up to Mom and clip something around her neck, then injected her with a hypo. She seemed to come out of whatever state she was in and shake off the paralysis. She had a conversation with the team and they spread out. Soon two squads of Black Swan operatives where collared, kitted out, and boarding two of our jump jets under their own power. Just maybe not under their own volition.

I fast forwarded the tape, watching the jets take off as the invaders did something with the shield generators, removing some devices I didn't recognize, but was pretty sure shouldn't have been in there. Then my heart froze and I paused the tape, zooming in so I could get a look at their inside man. It was Charles, looking like he knew the masked men, and was joking with them as he helped inject the rest of Mom's people. Once everyone was injected Charles and the invaders disappeared into the house.

I didn't see them emerge. That suggested they used the escape tunnel like I had.

It wasn't long after that that Gizmatic's Darlek and Nomad Enforcers as well as human troops, who where not in Gizmatic's gear, stormed the compound. The Mom's people put up a heck of a fight, but they didn't stand a chance against the hoard. I quickly switched to the local news to see what the hell was going on. My first search brought up a special broadcast by Emperor Joe Wilkins had made the day after my world went to hell.

The High Poobah stomped out wearing a suit of power armor, reminiscent of Buzz Lightyear's space suit with extra weapons clipped on, with a look of anger on his weasel like features. Behind him came a gaunt man with a huge nose and a cybernetic eye who'd styled his hair up into horns. His coat was missing a sleeve, showing off an impressive mechanical arm. It took me a moment to recognize him as Dr Diabolik. Gizmatic's metal clad hands thumped into the podium, denting what ever it was made out of. “Yesterday a raid was perpetrated against a valued ally of this kingdom, breaking numerous laws, and endangering his family.”

The wall behind Gizmatic shifted and displayed a plush vacation house on one of the private beaches. A boy and girl, their faces blurred, where seen sitting at an outside table with Dr Diabolik eating dinner. Then two drop jets, the Black Swan logo visible, swept in. Automated defenses sprang up and Dr D hustled his kids in side as his personal guards arrived on the scene and began to return fire. The drop jets landed and the squads deplaned. The firefight was brutal, though it had an edited quality. The clip finished off as one drop jet exploded and the other fled.

“This violation was driven back and when Dr Diabolik contacted me about it my Imperial wrath was swift and surgical. Several of the perpetrators where killed when they refused to surrender, and some temporarily managed to escape. We will not rest until they are brought to justice!!”

Pictures of Mom and her team leaders appeared on the screen with their names, known aliases, and known skills and for those who where talents; powers. Several of the pictures had a red stamp “Killed” across them. Others had a yellow “Captured” across. There where very few that weren't marked.

Mom's was one of the red stamps.

“The crown is offering a reward for the live capture and extradition back to Karedonia of those who have managed to evade our royal might.” Gizmatic's tone shifted from Supreme Ruler to weaselly businessman. “The form of the payment is negotiable, be it gold bullion, gems, rare elements from the royal mines, Gizmatic products from the catalog, or a reduction on your next rent-a-lair.”

Diabolik cleared his throat causing Gizmatic to glance at him. There seemed to be a wordless conversation, which they could have done over a private connection, before Gizmatic reluctantly moved out of the way. The space obsessed villain glowered at the camera. “I will not stand for my children being endangered like they where, and I have seen that the perpetrators where, and still are, being punished accordingly!”

The clip ended and I absently clicked a link saying “related story” under the player which lead to a article about how, coincidentally, the private jet the Traitor's parents had been flying in on crashed on approach to the local airport, killing them and the pilot. The Co-pilot some how survived. All signs pointed to mechanical failure.

This left me wondering what I should do. My mom's side of the family was gone, I'd never met my father, and after this attack any Black Swan retirees would be going to ground or rolling over to suck up to two big name villains. Which I could do myself, by taking the footage I'd found to the police. But would they believe me, or just dismiss the evidence as a forgery I'd had made to clear Mom's name? And the people who set this up where still be out there, still looking to tie off any loose ends...

A prickle played over my neck and I ducked down clutching the tablet to my chest as I frantically looked around the darkened ruins. I glanced down at the tablet just as the stilled video fuzzed out and “Remote access lost” appeared on the screen.

“Son of a...” I cut off the curse, thinking if mom had caught me she'd tan my bottom. I had no proof now about Mom's people being attacked before Gizmatic's people showing up. Not that I could get to either Dr. Diabolik or the Emperor... well maybe Dr Diabolik was accessible. It was a crazy idea, but I knew the island pretty well, so I'd recognized where the beach house Diabolik was renting was located from the video clip.

The thought of Dr Diabolik and his kids having a family dinner in that clips hit me hard in that moment. Never again would Mom and me have dinner together. Never again could I go to her with some triumph or injury and get her full attention. Tears began to stream down my face as sobs wracked my body. At some point I drifted off laying there, and the sun in my eyes woke me the next morning.

~*~

November 21st, 2001

I was living in another rental property, this time one off a list I had acquired from a cleaning crew's work list after they dropped in on the lair I had been holed up in. Thankfully I had expected this possibility and I made sure to clean up after myself every meal, dumping my trash down the road, making the beds, washing the dishes I had used and putting them away right away. I also spent most of my day out of the house. This was because my main problem was finding food; Dumpster diving really wasn't a good option in the tropics do to rapid spoilage, so I was mostly shoplifting, spreading it out over several stores, often riding a bike I had stolen from one of the earlier rentals to the next town so as not to mess where I slept, wearing various outfits and just doing what I could to stay under the radar least someone got wise to me.

I was just going into a little Stop and Rob store when a news paper tossed on top of the trashcan caught my attention. Under the fish and chip grease and mayo the page 4 head line read “Diabolik Raid Staged” I quickly pulled the paper out of the bin and scanned the article. The gist was that after interrogating those members of Black Swan they had captured, Gizmatic's people had discovered that they had thought it was a legitimate hostage rescue. They said Mom had gotten a call, and money transfer, to recover a brother and sister who had been taken from the US by their father. They'd no clue that they where being sent after Dr. Diabolik. The not so good doctor was quoted as saying that he had full undisputed custody of his children. Those in custody where still being punished for the attack, but they weren't being sent to the Orc Mines.

Crumpling the paper I stormed out of the Stop and Rob mind whirling. I wanted to know who had set my family up, and I wanted to hand them over to Gizmatic or Diabolik's tender mercies. I had a feeling Godfree was the lynch pin to this mess if I had some way of tracking him down. As I pitched the paper I remembered about the co-pilot on the private jet who had been bringing my grandparents in. He'd lived when no one else had. That suggested to me that he had expected the crash and had taken steps to walk away. Mom had been forced to hire a commercial jet and pilot as the company jet was taken a bird to the engine and wing earlier in the week and was thus unfly-able. And while she could have sent one of the jump jets, they where just not set up for comfort.

When I returned to the lair, for it was one of the infamous Rent-A-Lairs offered on Sin d'Rome's web site, I booted up the combat tablet and connected to the wifi. You'd expect that the real estate agents would be smart enough not to leave the password taped to the router. The place echoed, as it was made to house a villain's whole operation from the lowliest minion to trusted adviser, and there was room for about three hundred people, as well as a hanger capable of housing what ever vehicles they brought with them. The kitchen was like something you'd find in a fast food restaurant; designed to push out food at a fast rate taste be damned.

I activated one of the programs built into the tablet and set it to rooting out what it could find about the co-pilot that had lived. Turned out he had already been researched by Mom, and his file was on the tablet. Name; Tate, James. Resident of Karedonia, no criminal record. But she had flagged him as having the potential to have ties to any number of villains and organizations as he and his partner, the now deceased pilot Leo Greenfield, where listed as one of the busiest charter businesses on the island. I hesitated mulling over if the fact Greenfield died was something Tate had planned or if it had just happened by the whims of Fate. It could be Greenfield had been in on the crash, but for what ever reason didn't make it, or he could have been an innocent like my grandparents. I wondered if Wilkins' people had found the plane's black box and what it might be telling them. Still Mom had done a lot to piss off people, and if Tate had taken a bribe from one of them to... not that seemed like it didn't track. Was killing my grandparents tied to the raid on the compound, or was it a badly timed accident? Had my grandparents done something in their past that someone was willing to kill them over? Or did Mom do a job that someone thought deserved exterminating her bloodline?

Shaking off those questions as something I could chew on later, I looked up if Tate was still in the hospital, or if he had been sent home. News reports had him still in the hospital as of this morning. What I could find just showed his ID photo, nothing more recent. I shrugged that off as well and headed for the garage where several tricked out mopeds either where left behind by a previous renter or came with the rental where parked. There where also some basic bicycles as well, but it would be dark by the time I peddled into the capital and located the hospital. The moped would get me there and back in plenty of time.

The tip was uneventful as I chose to take back roads rather then the highway, but even the longer route left me enough time to get in before visiting hours where over. I wandered in keeping close to a family who had about a dozen kids all carrying balloons that said “Get Well Soon!”. From their chatter in the elevator, it sounded like one of the older kids had just had just underwent an rather painful manifestation of paranormal powers that the doctors weren't sure where mutant based or if the kid had suffered an Origin event. When they stepped out I went up one more floor.

The ward was down right quiet. There didn't seem to be another living person on the floor as I padded down the hall looking into rooms. Some the beds where empty, others there where bundled up figures. I didn't see a single nurse or doctor.

Finally finding Tate's room I was shocked to see that he was in a quarantine room with Regen and Unknown Pathogen Biohazard warnings posted as well as how little of his body remained. Both legs where gone at about mid thigh if the lumps under the covers where any indication. The hand I could see was skeletal as was his face. Yet some how he still clung to life, and he turned his near flesh less face towards me despite the pain he must have been in. Fluid wept from his tissue as his lid less eyes bored into me through the glass.

“You. Granddaughter.” Tate rasped, an intercom picking up his words. “Saw pictures. Why...?”

“Why am I here? Because I want to know why my family was killed.” I snapped, then focused on calming myself. “Who told you to crash the plane?”

“Didn't.” he shuddered, chest heaving. “Ten out. Phil collapsed, dissolved. Passengers same. Some regen, not enough...” He shuddered again and alarms began to warble as lines went flat. I ran from the doctors and nurses, trying to fit this new piece of the puzzle into place.