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***
-And next up on our radio station is the Pierce Pickering Jazz Band! Enjoy some really good music!
Smooth keyboards and a low, husky voice come into play, diluting George Stacey's mood with some nice notes. A good rhythm, a pleasant melody and a voice that would make any man think.
Opening the car window, Captain Stacy breathed in the fresh sea air, relaxing for a moment and letting go of all the thoughts that were bothering him.
Clutched in his hand was a juicy Thai burger, or as the smarties called it, Gua bao. A few onion rings spilled onto the paper spread in his lap, but the old cop had no regrets. His good friends had tossed him so much stuffing that it barely fit between the buns.
Gobbling like a wild animal into the food, George moaned with pleasure, allowing himself a second of weakness. At this point, Stacy couldn't have wished for more, for the whole world, especially New York with its problems, could go to shit while the 'watchdog' rested.
Shaking his head to the beat of the music, George chewed the burger long and measuredly, crunching the vegetables and feeling the juice from the patty spreading in his mouth. The warm bao bun squirmed under his strong fingers, pushing out some of the sauce, but that was even better.
-Oh, this feels good," the captain looked around to make sure no one was around, and pulled a small flask from his inside pocket. He opened the cap with one hand, tipping the flammable liquid down his gullet, the fire travelling all the way to his gut - brrrrrrr, oh, Donovan was right, this is damn good.
Without abusing it, the captain hid the flask. He wanted to feel the flavour and warmth inside on this cool, windy day, and he shouldn't have been drunk. His daughter had been a nightmare lately, so he shouldn't upset her too much.
Thoughts of Gwen brought George back to his usual state of constant reflection. His baby, little Gwen, was changing before his eyes. Her temper and moods were jumping like a horse race. Just a short time ago she had ignored his existence, and now she was not a step away, constantly pestering him with questions. She even started fixing her tie in the morning.
"Strange changes... Oh, I feel it's not good.... Although, children grow and change quickly."
Thinking about it, the captain missed the moment when a familiar silhouette appeared next to his car. The knock of knuckles on the roof of the car almost sent the elderly man to the grave, so frantic was his heart pounding.
-Hello, George.
-Fuck," Stacy's first thought was to shoot the shithead who loved to sneak up and hide in the shadows, "what the fuck are you doing here?
-There's news. And it's good news.
-Fuck. Get in, let's get off the lit streets.
A couple of minutes of driving in silence, while his fellow superhero continued to catch up in silence, Stacey had time to think about a lot of things. Rorschach wouldn't just turn up, which meant his burgeoning work routine would soon come to an end. He was just getting used to the routine.
The car came to a halt in the darkness, amidst the empty rubbish bins and dirty streets, filled with waste from the neighbouring houses. This was probably where the city's scum did their dirty business all the time, Stacy was a hundred per cent sure of that; it was too inconspicuous and inviting.
Lighting a cigarette and leaning his head back on the seat, the older man waited for the conversation to begin, inwardly preparing himself for what awaited him.
-I've got a couple of candidates for assistant.
-Oh, fuck...
With a low groan, Stacy banged the back of his head against the headrest a couple of times.
-Tell me you're kidding.
-They're ready to fight," Rorschach lit a cigarette in front of him for the first time in George's memory, pushing the mask back a little to free his lips. He pulled up the collar of his coat and covered himself against it, turning away the mirrors at the same time. "They are ready to fight with us for the streets of this city.... For law and order.
-Huh, that's not the answer I was expecting, believe me.
The smoky junker flew out the window as George continued to stare into the darkness in silence. The man wanted to scream at the stupidity of his interlocutor. The more people involved, the more trouble. It's harder to cover their tracks, hide their co-operation and other evidence that could send them all to jail...
But all the arguments were silenced when he dropped the washed-out memory of Anna Schultz and the devastation she had wrought alone. How many more such freaks lurked in the shadows of ordinary people. How many of them will turn out to be an even bigger threat.
-You think it's worth it? - Even so, Stacey had to try and talk his "mate" out of it. He suspected that Rorschach was younger than he was, and probably very much younger, which meant his mates were probably the same age as him. How old were they? Twenty to twenty-five years old. Very young idealists - should we drag them into this? Even if they're strong, is it worth involving other people, risking their lives? What good will it do us if they die? Are you willing to take responsibility for their lives? Wouldn't it be better to pick more proven cops who've been doing this job for years? You're young and you can't even deny it, which means you and your mates have a long life ahead of you.
Rubbing his eyes with his fingers, Stacy gripped the steering wheel with one hand while the other reached for the pack again.
-Every time we work together, I wonder why I let this happen, and it's only when I think about recent events that I can put my conscience at ease. But you've already shown your worth. You've shown grit and you've shown how you can get things done. And even so, I still have my doubts. So tell me, Rorschach. Why do I need these young "heroes" around my neck?
-It's always been the same in life. One generation's rubbish after another. People try to look optimistically into the future, believing that young people will be better, that our world will change for the better....
The guy in the mask took one last drag, after which he again dragged out his usual pathos-inducing speeches, causing the old captain to gnash his teeth.
-... But I see the filth, the belittling, the blood, and the lying tricks that are washing away the ground beneath the feet of the future. You ask why young heroes are needed? Yes, youth gives strength, energy, idealism.... But still, what's the point if the world around us is decaying slowly and surely, like a corpse in the sun?
Good words, right words. But to hear them like this, like in a sixties detective film. The comparison made Stacy's head spin. As much as he liked that kind of subject matter, every interaction with Rorschach gave him a twinge of Spanish shame, and it was only his years of experience and steely stamina that allowed him to keep a calm face.... Most of the time.
-... And I'll answer you. Perhaps they are deluded into thinking that they can fix anything in this doomed world. We are all mortal, we are all insignificant, and the man-made gods laugh ironically at our futile efforts to change things. Maybe I'm a pessimist, maybe I'm a realist.....
Taking off his hat, the black and white mask turned in his direction. It seemed to George that music appropriate to the moment was about to play in the background, so much so that the whole situation resonated in his head with the production.
-But it seems to me...That without people like them, we can't move forward. They're the gears, the newly greased parts that will keep this machine moving forward.
For a couple of minutes after Rorschach finished his speech, they sat in silence, each thinking about his own. If the guy under the mask of a hero was delighted with his own eloquence and was happy to Heaven, thinking that he had touched George and made him think....
At the same time the captain kept himself from banging his head against the steering wheel. It was necessary to maintain the image of a tough and tough cop, and not to go to extremes because of the words of the kid.
-You're not making this any easier," George tightened his lips and counted to ten in his head, "on the contrary, you're making me even less willing to take on a couple of deadbeats...
An uncertain hum escaped from beneath the mask.
-Anyway, I can't stop them," Rorschach opened the car door, leaving the warm and cosy interior, "they'll defend the city, with or without us...
***
Stepping round the corner, I didn't hesitate to shoot upwards with the hook and a couple of seconds later my feet were down on the still wet cold roof where my friends were waiting for me.
Peter and Gwen were sitting under a small awning of cobwebs, sheltering themselves from the wind. Now, the two of them were playing cards, having fun and not paying attention to what was going on, while having a leisurely conversation on the subject of relationships with dear ones.
-So you're not gonna tell MJ?
-Я... I don't know," Parker shook his head and dropped the cards on the table, accepting defeat in another game, "if you believe what Sean said, it's all too dangerous, and she's..." he said.
-A simple person?
-Yes... No... She's not an ordinary person. Oh, shit. It's too complicated," Pete groaned, digging his fingers into his own face, as if hoping he could pull the mask of his self off, "I don't know.... What are you gonna do? Tell your dad and-
-Pfft. Are you out of your mind? I'd be grounded for the rest of my life if I even mentioned it," Stacy pointed her hand at me, folding her fingers in a pistol-like pattern, pretending to shoot, blowing smoke at the tip of her fingernail, "and Sean would have to keep looking round, afraid of dark corners.
-What does that have to do with me?
-Well, you dragged me to that exhibition at Ozcorp.
-You wanted to go there yourself!
-Well, cry some more," Gwen smirked and patted the seat next to her, urging me into her arms, "as if that would convince my father...
-It's not fair.
-Because... Justice is supposed to be equal for all?
Parodying my voice, Gwen drew applause from both of us. Frowning her eyebrows and folding her arms across her chest, the girl hung her head on her chest, playing off her intonations beautifully.
As we were having fun and releasing the accumulated tension, we stealthily came to the real topic of conversation.
-So he's okay with it?
-I wouldn't say that," Pete had already made a run for the pizza, now suspended on the web between us. I had to tear myself away from the succulent slice of pizza, which was giving off amazing flavours, in order to answer, -He's rather shocked, and I haven't got a clear answer yet....
-And I don't think you will," Gwen leaned back, hanging her head down on the wall, "Dad's not that kind of man. I gather from your story that he's already made a risky bet on your co-operation. And now you're offering him a couple more pain in the arse like this. And unproven in the field.
-So that's the problem? We need to show up like we're in a talent show?
Pete, despite the joy of his abilities, didn't try to use them at every opportunity, just sat there like a normal person.
-Yeah, except instead of a red button that sends your face backstage, we'll have bullets and freaks with superpowers," the new piece was rolled into a small roll and almost entirely in his mouth, "but all in all, you're right. George won't take any chances. And for him to see you as potential helpers at all and not sic the police on you, you'll need to prove yourself.
-Great. No problem.
At that moment, looking at my friend and the girl who'd agreed so easily, still eating her pizza, I realised Stacey Sr's hesitation. In his mind, the old "bobby" must have pictured them like this. Wiggling their feet, eating pizza and talking about how cool it would be to take down a gang or an entire mafia group.
I definitely had a lot of work ahead of me, which made my head throb painfully. The only consolation was... Unlike me, the guys are starting with a huge starting boost, albeit one that was received extremely painfully and under dangerous circumstances.
-All right, finish your food and let's go try and bring some bastards to justice.
***
The gloomy streets, already scaring away casual passersby, were now drowned in shadows as a powerful figure in green armour walked between the houses, leaving a trail of green cloak behind him.
A crumpled newspaper flew past Victor's feet, catching on his foot. With a contemptuous grin, Doom tossed the piece of trash away carelessly, falling into a puddle. A few drops of which landed on his patent boot.
-I hate this city.
Trying to calm down, he left the place as quickly as possible, heading towards the harbour. He would have to pass through most of the city to get to a safe place where his compatriots and subjects would meet him, but before that he would have to cross Manhattan....
The angry gaze of blue eyes, with yellow flecks of magic, fixed on the hated tower, perfectly visible from this part of the city.
-Richards," Victor practically growled the words, his fists clenched to a crunch as he felt anger, jealousy, and hatred fill his gut. But the sudden influx of so many emotions did not go unnoticed, and the man immediately identified their source, - Apparently, you don't understand in a good way!
Doom snatched the mask from the protective box and grabbed it with both hands, sending streams of uncontrollable destructive magic straight into the gut of the cursed artefact.
Acting under the residual pressure of emotion, he punished the souls trapped in the object so zealously that at one point a wind full of green and purple sparks rose up around him.
The sparse puddles underfoot turned icy and frost began to spread along the walls, crumbling the old bricks and causing panicked screams from the occupants.
Tired from the long trek, frustrated at the loss of valuable specialists who would take months of searching to replace, and angry at the involvement of an old enemy in his troubles, Victor overreacted, sending an unspoken message to all who understood that he was in this city and extremely angry.
The flash of power was gone in an instant. Getting his violent temper under control, the king stared at the artefact with mad hatred, barely keeping himself from just breaking the mask.
-You will answer for this-.
The creatures trapped in the mask had done it on purpose. They knew that disobedience would be followed by punishment, but even so... Ignoring the consequences, the artefact affected him, provoking aggression and fuelling anger, thus forcing him to glare at the others.
And it didn't take long for them to do so. An unusual vehicle took off from the high-rise that Victor was looking at recently, quickly approaching his nook.
And a couple of metres away, an orange circle was already beginning to form, through which the planet's defenders from mystical threats were tearing.
And Victor von Doom would not be himself if he changed his behaviour in such a situation. At the most dangerous moment, the king did not panic, but rather began to feel an icy calmness, feeling that no tricks would help him avoid the battle. He was out of shape, hadn't dealt with the aftermath of Richards' toys, and would have to fight on two fronts against extremely dangerous opponents...
But he was content. He was sick of hiding in these stinking streets. Hiding from the eyes of savages and ignoramuses like a petty thief.
The damned mask went back into the container while Victor prepared for battle. His green cloak came to life, and the man-made lightning began to dance around him.
And as soon as the portal was fully open, the simplest but most powerful spells burst from Doom's hands, killing the first arriving mage dressed in a monk's robe.
-Doom didn't stop for a moment, unleashing all of his power on his enemies. He couldn't use complex and precise spells, but he had enough bad power as it was," he said.
The circle of lightning intercepted a few back blows, levelling the attacks entirely.
A couple of the mages who had lunged forward fell back as broken puppets, the life drained from their eyes. Holding the last brave by the neck, Victor solemnly watched Richards' team land and the chief wizard appear.
-At last... I thought you weren't going to show up.
-Victor, let go.
Not listening to his old enemy's high-pitched, high-minded ramblings, Doom crunched the monk's neck, killing the poor man painfully.
-Same goes for you, Reed.
The ghastly steel mask glared at all the participants of the future battle, and then a light conflagration unfolded in the alley, visible from any part of the city.
***
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