Samael61
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Chapter 39 - Games
🕑 Added 2025-10-17 14:12:30 +0000 UTCJump City
In the interest of finishing off the cult supporters entirely, Miles and Claire were back in Jump City, on the trail of the wealthy elite, who had gone missing for some reason. But their next steps were obvious.
With arrest warrants on their heads, the millionaires had no choice but to make it to a country that doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the USA, and that required fake documents.
Moving between states would pose a risk, so they would have to acquire everything close to home.
It just so happened there was an excellent forger in Jump City.
—
Markus Koffman froze as he entered his home/workshop, realizing someone was inside.
“No need to be shy, Markus; this is your home after all.” The voice called out, and Markus took a deep breath, unnerved that someone would get through all his security measures.
The man in the hat was sitting on his favorite chair, inspecting Markus’ latest work in progress. “If you want documents, there are other ways of contacting me.”
“I must say, your work is flawless. Truly a master of your craft.” The man praised genuinely, taking another passport.
Markus moved away from the doorway, putting his keys on the drawer near the TV. “Is this going to be about a commission, or something else?”
“Fourteen of the fourteen richest citizens of Jump City had a hand in the events at the Arrival. I am sure you saw what happened there.” The man would literally have to be living under a rock to not be.
“I did.”
“Now, thirteen of them are scrambling to disappear, and they can’t do it the legal way.” Since Cassius was already in prison, having sold out all his conspirators for a lighter sentence.
“What makes you think they came to me?”
The man just waved one of the passports at Markus. Chuckling, he leaned back on the small drawer, discretely pulling out a gun, and pointed it at the man, who merely removed his hand from his pocket, dropping bullets on the carpet.
“Shit.” A hand grabbed Markus by the neck and slammed his head on the same drawer, taking the gun away and pushing him to the ground.
Dizzy, Markus could do nothing but watch as the man got up from the chair, checking the outside through the blinders. “I once had to get into a prison in order to find the location of a stash of diamonds stolen almost a decade ago. It was a dangerous experience, but there was one moment that was unforgettable to me. Peter, this lone, intelligent young man convicted of fraud, was stuck between the inmates and the wardens. The wardens wanted him to snitch on his prison mates and weren’t kind in their treatment whenever he refused.”
Miles had made arrangements with both sides to be left alone and did not find himself in the middle of any trouble.
“The hardened criminals on the inside, however, did not like snitches, and you know what they say: snitches get stitches.” Moving away from the window, the man sat back on the chair, crossing his legs.
“Do you know what Peter did?”
“What?” Both options did not look stellar to the forger, and he understood where the man was going.
He pointed at the bathroom and then his neck. “Couldn’t manage the stress and hanged himself in the bathroom.”
Markus’ throat bobbed, and he got up from the ground, wiping his nose on a handkerchief. “Are you going to hang me if I don’t speak?”
The man in the hat looked offended by the suggestion. “Murder a talented person like you in cold blood? I would rather not. On the other hand, do you think you can handle prison if all the people that commissioned your talents are revealed?”
Ah, now the forger understood where his unexpected guest was going.
“Well played. I think they are all in one place, since the delivery is supposed to be done by one person. He will be here tomorrow morning.” Far be it from Markus to question how his clients conducted their business, as long as he was paid on time with the agreed amount.
The woman handed him a small rectangular device, barely the size of a penny. “Excellent. May I count on your discretion to slip this in among the documents?”
“May I count on your willingness to keep this a secret?” Prison did not look appealing to him; neither did death.
“Markus, this might just be the start of a beautiful relationship, once my targets are behind the walls.”
After the two left, Markus checked on his evidence locker, finding all his safeguards against his clientele turning on him gone.
—
One day later, Markus handed over the package with the tracker hidden well inside, leaving Miles and Claire nothing to do but trail the SUV. It was truly bizarre for all the fugitives to be hiding in the same place, but then again, they had been supporting a cult for some reason.
The reason he even was tracking them in the first place was because their finances, the ones that weren’t seized by the government, were nigh impossible to track with a certain degree of accuracy.
Otherwise, Miles would have just had Zalika empty the accounts, followed by Saul losing the trace and laundering the money back into the system.
Three miles later, the car stopped before a nightclub, and the courier quickly made his way inside. The bouncer at the door allowed him inside, but Miles and Claire needed to employ other means to pass.
Such as threatening the bouncer with a cryo-gun to enter the club before Claire knocked him out.
Which caused the several workers inside to panic and take cover, thinking it was a gang attack.
“Gentlemen, ladies, may I have your attention?” He calmly requested, and some of the workers raised their heads hesitantly, seeing no hostile action from the man.
Moving aside, he gestured to the door. “Please exit through the door behind me in an orderly fashion, now.”
Not questioning their goodwill, the workers quickly ran out. “Thank you, and my apologies for the scare.”
Down the stairs, the rich boys were gathered in a VIP room, discussing the way forward, when the courier barged in, screaming there was an intruder, before Claire kicked him down.
“Oh shit, it’s him.” One of the rich boys screamed, scrambling to his feet, but a cryo beam near his feet stopped him.
Someone told them Miles was coming?
That did not bode well.
“Gentlemen, you are under arrest. If you could kindly put your hands behind your neck and get down while I call law enforcement, that would be appreciated.”
“We are changing the script?” Claire whispered, keeping her hands ready to attack in case anyone got smart.
“They knew I was coming; there is a chance we are under surveillance.” Question must have an inkling about what Miles did to Cassius to plan this, unless there was a third party.
“You heard the man; get down before I turn you into naked moles.” Claire threatened the panicked fugitives non-lethally, knowing to play along.
Several bottles were knocked over, covering the carpets in expensive alcohol, and some of them had to lie really close.
Walking over to the terrified fugitives who knew they were done, Miles prodded one with his feet. “Anyone care to reveal just who told you I was coming here?” His plans to take their remaining assets had gone up in the blink of an eye.
He wanted to be sure of the one responsible.
“We just got an anonymous tip, that’s all, and moved here instead.”
Most likely, Question was trying to see what Miles would do while also helping him catch all the fugitives at once, and if it was the faceless detective, they were definitely being watched.
He definitely had to give this one up.
The room was dark, but he still checked the possible places, coming up empty-handed. Quentin was paranoid to the end, so it must be in the least place he would think to look.
Taking the briefcase from the courier, Miles opened it, rummaging through the documents, only finding his tracker, before he smashed the briefcase itself, revealing a listening device hidden inside the hollowed-out handle.
“Not bad. Question, not bad.” Miles muttered, crushing the device. “Where did you get this briefcase?” He asked the courier.
“I had it for a while; I just used it today.”
“Any break-ins? Someone suspicious around your house?” Not that Question would be caught unless he didn’t want to, but there was no harm in asking.
“No, I swear.”
“Hey, is that the cops?” Claire asked as the sound of sirens and running came really close.
“Seems someone saved us the trouble of calling them.”
“Shouldn’t we escape?”
“Why? We are heroes with the Justice League, helping the law enforcement catch these fugitives.”
The door was already open, and several SWAT units pointed their weapons inside, ready to use lethal force. “Officers, I was just about to call you.”
“Hands in the air, don’t move.” The law enforcement ordered, and Miles raised his hands without a protest, followed by Claire.
“Of course.”
“Who are you?” The SWAT demanded as he cuffed Miles.
“I am with the Justice League, tracking these criminals responsible for the tragedy a week ago.” Miles said with a straight face.
“Uhhuh, do you know how many people claim that? We are going to have to solve this in the station.”
—
“Miles Beckett, residency: Metropolis. What brings you to this side of the country?” The chief of police, seeing as Miles was a high-profile individual owing to his previous accomplishments, came to ask the questions himself.
Miles leaned forward on the desk, his cuffs stopping him from moving any further. “As I said to the officers at the scene tracking the fugitives, though, it appears one of my colleagues had already tipped you off.”
“Who would that be?” They did indeed get an anonymous tip with plenty of evidence, but not the person behind it.
“The world’s most paranoid detective. Even if I gave you a name, you would never find him unless he wished to be.” The chief seemed to be considering the information before reaching to his belt to uncuff Miles.
“I see. At any rate, there is no suspicion of you working with these bastards, so you and your friend are free to go.”
“Thank you.”
—
Outside the police station, the first thing that greeted Miles and Claire was an older model dark blue Pontiac GTO driving away.
“So it was him in the end.” Miles chuckled. If Victor Sage wanted to play, Miles could play.
Claire narrowed her eyes, considering whether it was worth the trouble to go after him. “What the hell was that faceless guy doing?”
“Playing with us.”
“We are going to get him back, right?” She just got arrested by the cops and wasn’t about to let Question slip off that easily.
“Yes, and I have a splendid idea.” If Question was suspicious of Miles having ulterior motives, then he would give the detective the opposite.
“Let’s just go; I’ve had enough of this city for a lifetime.”
—
Metropolis
“Welcome back.” Zalika greeted them as she got up from the TV, noticing their lackluster mood. “Things did not go well over there?”
Miles smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “Nature of business. How are you three doing?”
“Good, though Raven has been stuck in her room, meditating.”
—
His plan to get back at Question was simple and brilliant at the same time. If the detective wanted to see what Miles was planning behind the scenes, he would conduct his business in the open.
“Hey Miles.” Mary answered her phone quickly, and Miles was already wiring the money to the accounting.
“Mary, I want you to find the immediate families of all the deceased in the Jump City disaster and the women kidnapped by the cult. Cover their entire health bill, give scholarships to siblings and children for their entire educational life, and assist the rebuilding efforts; spare no expenses.” He ordered, skipping the niceties. Mary was busy enough; he didn’t want to keep her occupied any longer.
The CEO was silent for a couple of seconds as the sound of pen on paper was heard. “Alright. Anything else?” At this point, Mary knew better than to ask why.
“And make PR campaigns. “If the good citizens of Jump City need help, we are here, no questions asked, no matter how many miles away.” That would definitely get Question’s attention.
“Got it.”
“That’s your plan?” Claire asked. She would have preferred to rough that bastard up for a bit over a PR campaign.
“Question is seeking our ulterior moves; we are giving him the complete opposite.” And the more he dug into Miles’ business in search of any shady business, the more philanthropic acts he would show the detective.
—
In a city far away, a ginger-headed individual sitting in his house chuckled at the advertisement on the TV.
Not bad.
—
EnviroCorps
Robotics Research Lab
“What do you need this time?” Thomas grumbled. His androids had joined the Justice League, leaving only him and his duplicate in the lab.
“A satellite connected to a supercomputer to monitor the world’s communication grid.” This one was for the next step of his plan. Zalika, with her technopathic abilities advancing each day, could use a supercomputer to hack into the satellite network without the need to infiltrate the vendors.
Their satellite would act as a relay, and as she could simply access any digital device by merely being in range, the usual protocols and measures against tampering would not work.
“I’ll start the work.”
“How are you doing healthwise?” The exact date of Morrow falling into a coma wasn’t clear, but it was obviously soon.
“Not long left in me now, but my android won’t let you down.” Thomas turned to his younger, synthetic version, imbued with all the knowledge he had, who was working on some new conduits.
He gently patted the old man on the shoulder. “Remember, Thomas, it’s not for me, but for the world.”
“How exactly is hacking into the planet’s comm network for its good?” It was an obvious attempt at spying across the world, and Thomas wasn’t going to believe it without a good reason.
“Because the governments of the world are not to be trusted, and I have reasonable suspicion that the United States government is experimenting on an alien life form to develop mind control capabilities to be used on any enhanced individual not under their thumb.” Miles explained, revealing just one of the highly unethical projects run by the USA.
He wasn't even going to mention Amanda Waller, and her crimes in the name of national security.
Thomas blinked, definitely not expecting it, though his previous run-ins with the government were proof enough that they would dabble in mind control. “Huh, you know what, forget I asked. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
Miles thanked the old man before leaving.
Now, to prepare a base.
Comments
DJC (MagicLover2128)
I noticed you left one of the sentences incomplete near the end of the chapter. You may want to fix that.
