Was I a little embarrassed by my car? Absolutely.
Not many criminal masterminds cruise around in a Toyota Corolla, but aerial travel isn’t practical for every trip across town.
I once caught a glimpse of what remained after the Incredible Arachnid whipped around a corner and collided head-on with a news chopper. It wasn’t a pleasant sight.
Besides, do-gooders (a nickname for superheroes) tended to patrol the sky, and the absolute last thing I wanted was to tangle with some flying powerhouse just because I’d attempted to cut ten minutes off my drive.
"A brilliant disguise, sir," Glacia said, checking out the washed-out grey vehicle with its crumpled fender. "I would never suspect such an esteemed villain to be using such a vehicle."
I was pretty sure she wasn’t being sarcastic, which was possibly even more disturbing. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Right. Here, let me just clear the seat..."
I shoved some old papers and assorted fast food boxes into the back so she could get in, then started the engine.
I had to say, she looked out of place in my old car. Prim, pretty, she was the sort that would fit more in a limo, a private jet, or advertising lingerie on a billboard.
All of which had me feeling like I’d just gotten in deep with something I hadn’t even started to plumb the depths of.
I pulled out onto the road, joining traffic and heading towards the old industrial sector of the city. "Okay," I said, trying to sort my thoughts. "Here’s the plan."
"I’m all ears, sir," she said, flipping out a notebook, balancing it on her knee and bringing a fountain pen to bear with what looked like a diamond the size of my thumbnail on the tip.
Oooh, she was deep money. In another life, I might’ve been robbing her by now.
"Uh, good. And you don’t need to call me sir."
"Oh no, sir! I wouldn’t dream of otherwise," she said earnestly. "I’m merely your student. Respect is the least I can do for your knowledge and experience. How many villains can claim to have fought both the Iron Lady and the Spangled Star?"
"Those were just filler encounters," I said uncomfortably. How the hell did she know about those?
"But accurate, sir! You still faced them and got away with it. I watched the encounters with particular interest. I hear you even put Spangled Star in the hospital with two broken arms."
I sighed. "Right,"
I said. "I should talk about that. Listen. There’s two kinds of heroes out there, and you’re going to face both of them sooner or later. The first are the Corp Capes. Capes are the heroes we get paid to fight.
There’s a general script, expectation, and planned event. Us and them are both playing the same game, and we’re doing it well.
Unless something goes drastically wrong, everyone’s going home afterwards in good shape. No one is getting seriously hurt.
"But the second," I said, holding up two fingers, keeping one eye on the road. "The second is the one you’re going to need to watch out for, and if need be, you’re going to have to be ready to absolutely fuck them up.
These are the Street Heroes. Streeters are the kind that are out to fight for justice, liberty, all that fun stuff. They’re more common, and much more dangerous.
They don’t play by the rules. They see you robbing a bank, they think they’re here to stop you and toss you in jail. Or kill you. They’re dangerous, unpredictable, and absolutely filled with conviction. And that’s the worst combo for us."
"I see," Glacia said, frantically scribbling in her notebook.
"No, I don’t think you do," I said. "Because they will royally fuck up a job. You’re trying to hold city hall hostage? Maybe ripping off a jewelry store while waiting for the right good guy to show up, and all of a sudden you got some moron in a jumpsuit shooting lighting, or bees or... lighting coated bees out of their hands and trying to beat the shit out of you.
"That is when the gloves come off," I said. "If you do the job right, you shouldn’t meet with streeters. But they have an annoying tendency to find you and mess up well-planned schemes.
The capes tend to try and keep them under wraps, but streeters pop up all the time. And if they do, your safety is priority. Because a lot of streeters don’t have a no kill rule.
Hell, half the reasons they get into it is because the capes don’t kill their villains. You never know what those idiots will try and do, so you take them down fast, and take them down hard!"
Glacia nodded seriously. "I understand," she said.
I sighed. Maybe she did, but I doubted it.
You’re never really ready for the first time a superpowered nutbar tries to slam you from behind with a piece of rebar.
"Yeah, alright," I said. "But it’s not just streeters you have to watch out for. You need to keep an eye out for other villains too."
"Don’t they cooperate?" she asked.
"Rarely," I admitted. "There’s not many freelance villains around. It’s a tough job. And usually, when some thug gets dropped in toxic waste, or gets an evolutionary spurt, they get an ego and think the rules no longer apply.
Most get picked up pretty quick by cops or heroes, but sometimes they slip through the cracks. And if a target is tempting, they might try and hit it the same time you’re doing it.
Or worse, drop in to ’help’ or some bullshit. Unless you brought them in, be prepared for a fight with them too. Villains rarely cooperate except to settle a grudge."
"What about The New Order."
"You stay the hell away from those psychos!"
Glacia looked up with some surprise. "Psychos?"
I shook my head, trying to calm my racing pulse. "Yeah," I said. "Psychos. The Order are insane. Most villains are loners, but the Order are absolutely fucking evil.
Those guys are serious level threats, and they’re no goddam joke.
We’re talking about a bunch of maniacs who pack enough powers that the army gets called out to stop them, and they will absolutely kill anyone who gets in their way.
They’ve got death rays, giant robot scorpions, cyborg ninjas, all that shit."
"But they have rules, don’t they?" she asked.
Barely, knew the type already and knew no one in that type of setup actually liked each other, they were just useful until they weren’t.
"Sort of," I said, having gotten more familiar with them than I’d liked over the years. "The Order cooperates under a mutually assured destruction idea. Most are strong enough to take on big heroes, but hero collectives pose a challenge.
So to make sure they don’t get picked off one by one, the Order backs each other, pooling resources and things when needed.
If some hero messes with them outside of an actual scheme, the whole guild comes down on them.
They’ll kill the meddler, their family, their dog, then burn down the rest of the family tree for good measure. But they’re completely reactive." kinda exactly like the mafia.
"The Order doesn’t get involved unless you mess with one of their members first. Usually this works out, since most of them just like arching."
"Arching?"
I nodded. "Like what you’ll be doing. Only not recreationally. Most of The New Order have grudges. They go after a particular person or group. Revenge, hatred, just a bad attitude, whatever.
They tend to be pretty laser guided in that respect. But their rules don’t stop them from killing. And they don’t pull punches at all."
"But doesn’t arching keep them from causing further havoc? Isn’t the argument that an effective arch is a villain too preoccupied to cause chaos?"
I stopped the car immediately and glanced at her. "How do you know about that?"