Sparrowhawk: Ghosts & Goblins, Smoke & Mirrors
"Let's hear it for Deidre Castillo!"
The applause surged to a standing ovation in the large, Vegas- like auditorium known in Millennium City as the Blue Phoenix for the woman in question. She took a deep bow as the announcer's baritone boomed over the microphone. Deidre Castillo was beautiful by most anyone's standards, with shoulder length jet black hair and rose colored lips against slightly sun kissed skin. The lightest of blue eyes gave her an intense, knowing gaze. The costume she wore was indicative of her profession: a black tailored short jacket, a crimson bodice that clung to her chest tightly and fishnet stockings that went to shiny black high heeled shoes. Tonight's show was coming to a close finally after a hour long set that included theatrics that defied logic. At the young age of twenty six, Deidre was regarded as of the country's most notable up and coming sleight of hand magicians. She was known for her imagination and feats of prestidigitation that amazed and delighted her fans.
Deidre Castillo was also known for one more thing. As of two days ago she was reported murdered... yet here she was.
Her manager, Edward Morgan, a large, swarthy man who was wringing his hands uncomfortably had been waiting backstage as Deidre finished her set. "Deidre!" he exclaimed, breathing and sweating heavily as he followed her down the metal stairs to her dressing room, "Maybe you owe me an explanation! Just two days ago you were found on the sidewalk after a twenty five floor drop from your penthouse, and now you are here giving a show like nothing ever happened? What's that about?"
"Maybe its magic," Deidre said with a hint of a smile to Edward as the duo passed a group of barely dressed showgirls ready to take to the main stage as the next act.
"Maybe? Maybe?" Edward said, dumbfounded. "The news reports one day you are dead and you just start showing up again to this show like nothing happened? I had to hear about this on the news... and I'm your manager!"
Deidre turned to Edward, still lagging behind her, as she reached her dressing room door. She offered him a pinch on the cheek. "Maybe one day I'll tell you my secrets," she said, reaching to his ear and pulling out a penny, to which she showed him with a flashy smile and then put in his pocket. "A penny for good luck," she added, patting the pocket as she did so. Opening her door, which had her name emblazoned on it in huge letters, she entered inside, closing it on the still perplexed manager. He walked away, taking out his phone to place a call.
Hours later, Deidre was dropped off to her penthouse by a chauffeur from the Blue Phoenix. It was nearing four thirty in the morning and the moon was high in the night sky. The autumn air was chilled as Deidre stepped outside of the car, her breath clearly visible as she said her goodbye. The driver congratulated her on an excellent show for the night and made a joke about her being a zombie, returned from the dead. He stated it was possibly her best show ever that he had seen, to which she politely thanked him before going entering the luxurious thirty seven story building which she called home. Downtown Millennium City was descending into a quiet slumber as traffic was exceptionally sparse and no one seemed to be around the lobby as Deidre entered. Lavish Art Nouveau architecture greeted her as she went to the elevator, which dinged and opened. She casually pushed the button to the twenty fifth floor. Reaching her penthouse, she let herself in.
Deidre tapped the light switch but it didn't seem to work. The only hint of light was courtesy of the recently replaced wall to ceiling double window that the news had reported she had fallen to her death from going through. It wasn't much, only allowing the most minimal of illumination. Showing no sign of apprehension, she walked further inside to her living room.
As she proceeded, a sharp blow struck her from behind and Deidre collapsed beside her sofa. A clanking was heard as Deidre felt a hand grab her forcefully by the upper arm. Roughly she was pulled up to her knees as metal handcuffs were forced upon Deidre, her hands clasped by it behind her back tightly. She didn't utter a sound as the magician was pushed once more to the ground and the perpetrator, with seemingly little remorse, kicked her directly in the stomach twice. Deidre was no longer moving or even struggling at this point. Going towards the window a few steps away, the person responsible tapped something on the side of their face mask and a tiny red light activated on it by the ear. It was a communicator of some sorts and issued just the slightest of noise as it beeped to open up a channel.
"I've got her," the voice, male and raspy in tone, stated calmly. "What do you want me to do? If throwing her out of a building didn't work..." The figure paused, listening to directives for a few seconds. "That I can do," he then responded. "If you want her brought to you in pieces, then we will make sure she is in..."
The green and black garbed assailant turned about to observe Deidre's prone body. Yet she wasn't there anymore according to the silhouette she had cast only seconds ago and yet he heard nothing, not even a light rustling, to show that she had gotten up to move. The only thing which remained was the pair of silver colored handcuffs that shone in the moonlight which he had just placed on her. They were still locked.
"What the f...?" the man said under his breath, unlatching two guns that rested upon his belt. He clicked his communicator off. Eyes narrowing, the poorly lit room seeming to pose no issue to him as he looked about. "Bitch, you better come out."
"Come out..." Deidre's voice called from one part of the room.
"Come out..." resonated from down the hallway, also in Deidre's voice.
"... wherever you are," the female's voice finished as it trailed off, seemingly nowhere and everywhere at once. He turned nimbly to greet the last voice, only to discover no one was behind him.
The man looked about, extending his guns outward from his body to prepare himself as he slowly and cautiously attempted to walk down the darkened hallway. He was know in underworld circles as "The Silencer" and did just that... he ensured that his quarry was silenced. Permanently. This was the first time he had a 'repeat customer' and the notion was not sitting well for him. He had worked on occasion in super human circles if the pay was good and the target posed a challenge. The Silencer himself had been cybernetically augmented to help acclimate into the big leagues. His arms and legs were grafted with synthetic muscle, allowing him to press well over three tons, and his mind enhanced to process visual information quickly to give him aim that bested any regular humans. His eyes were also combined with synthetic material, allowing him to see in normal darkness like someone might in daylight by only requiring the most minimal of light to be effective... handy in jobs such as this.
For a moment as he continued to the bedrooms he paused to wonder if he was indeed preparing to fight something from beyond the grave, and if so how was he even going to stop her. He had hit her before, just minutes ago, however. What he had struck was indeed flesh and bone and had weight to it. In the back of his mind however the notion that she was more than human was indeed seeming to have some truth. Who just is thrown from a high rise penthouse only to show up for work two days later like nothing happened? Who just can disappear into nothingess? The bedroom at the end of the hall was slightly ajar. With the end of his gun his slowly opened it further, the creaking sound given the scene an eerie, horror movie like quality.
"NO!" Deidre's voice called out behind him as if it was quickly approaching. Without hesitation, The Silencer raised his gun in the direction of the hallway, deploying two shots as he turned about. The gunfire, just soft 'fipps' due to the silencer placed upon his weapon, struck the wall instead. The voice was an illusion... no one was actually there. A framed lithograph fell from its position on the wall, littering glass everywhere as slivers ran across the wooden floor. Angered and embarrassed, the Silencer returned his focus to the main bedroom door and simply kicked it open.
The Silencer was greeted by two white doves whose path fell right into his face as they flew into him and the shuffling of their feathers caused him a momentary bit of confusion. He waved his arms about wildly but in his peripheral spotted Deidre. She was crouched low by an exquisite canopy bed and her head appeared partially hidden behind the gauze covering the bed's frame. Without hesitation he instantly shot off two more rounds, striking her as she fell to the ground with barely a whisper . The Silencer jumped over the bed with ease, his right hand resting a gun aimed exactly at her face.
"Ghost, my ass," The Silencer said coarsely, though his smugness turned to befuddlement as he saw what he had hit.
It wasn't Deidre. It was a wig, styled just like Deidre's own long raven black hair, placed upon a plastic head form.
The Silencer was given no time to react, even with his impressive abilities, as he felt a jab into his ribs followed by a near instantaneous strike hitting his sternum. The force of the attack took him to the ground, breathless. Trying to take in what was going on, the would- be assassin attempted to roll over and bring up both of his guns to mow down whomever was now upon him. He was instead greeted by two hands pushing outwards, deflecting his arms from moving forward. As both weapons were knocked away a foot flew into his face, shattering directly through his face mask. The Silencer was anything but silent as he felt the impact smash his teeth into fragments, an ear piercing wail echoing across the bedroom and throughout the penthouse. He vainly attempted to punch the person upon him but instead felt two fingers touch the side of his neck... and he suddenly realized he could no longer move as he was utterly immobilized, somehow paralyzed from the neck down. The figure pulled several multi-hued scarves from their hand where none were before, rolling the Silencer over onto his stomach and tying him up for good measure.
The person now above him wasn't Deidre and it certainly was not a ghost. It was a woman with short blonde hair who was wearing Deidre's clothes. In fact, it was Alex Harper, known in most super heroic circles as the crime fighter Sparrowhawk.
"Abracadabra, asshole," she said curtly, finishing up the knot which secured the Silencer.
Sparrowhawk was dressed in her usual gear by the time the Millennium City Police Department arrived to pick up the Silencer, his body walking with a severe limp as the effects of the temporary immobilization the heroine inflicted wore off. He didn't have much to say on his way to the awaiting squad car, mostly because his teeth were shattered beyond repair and his jaw was left fractured. It only took Sparrowhawk a short while to finish up loose ends with a proper report to finalize tonight's events for a nice long prison sentence.
Day was approaching as rays of light were preparing to burst forth over the majestic Millennium City skyline. Alex Harper was now at the world famous Barlowe Building, home of her team, the Protectors of the World. The upper floors of the executive hotel which served for the past few years as the team's headquarters were empty for once and so she found herself chatting with her friend, UNTIL contracted inventor Simon Reynolds, over the computer, as was their custom. Simon was one of the few she felt completely at ease speaking to, a relationship that began years ago while Sparrowhawk was simply an agent of UNTIL.
"I had learned Deidre Castillo's entire magic routine in two hours, and that included the 'Walk On Water' segment as well as the disappearing car," Sparrowhawk said to Simon, getting herself something to drink as she spoke. "Getting the police to agree to me posing as Deidre for her to give one final show wasn't easy. It may have been a bit unorthodox to brig out the killer... but it worked. I mean, I _did_ study under the Crimson Conjurer in my younger days. He only happened to be one of the most prolific sleight of hand illusionists- turned- crime fighters in the world. Throwing your voice, creating birds out of thin air and getting out of handcuffs were the most basic tricks of the trade."
"What don't you know?" Simon said over the computer with a bit of a laugh. "For example, how did you know that The Silencer was coming for you, anyways?"
"That was easy," Sparrowhawk replied, taking out a mug and pouring some coffee into it. "I planted a dummy penny on Deidre's manager, Edward Morgan, pretending it was a cheap magic trick. The coin actually contained a small recording device... I got him speaking to the Silencer, setting up times and everything. The MCPD grabbed him as he was attempting to leave this country for a not- so- short 'vacation' overseas. It was Edward's plan all along, and he was stupid enough to call The Silencer again to try to murder Deidre one more time."
"But why?" Simon asked, curious.
"Edward is a very, very wealthy manager who got that way by working with a good deal of young talent. He also used his connections to run some favors for some rather unseemly types with connections high up the underworld food chain... and not just in Millennium. He thought Deidre had found this out and was afraid she was going to the police. Sadly, he felt that he had to take her out of the equation," Sparrowhawk responded, taking a sip of her coffee. "I had retrieved the who's who of his connections earlier. I just needed the man who killed Deidre, and he fortunately delivered him right to me."
"Sounds like an exciting night," Simon said, yawning at the end of his sentence. "I'm tired, I need to get some sleep. You should, too. Just watch out for all that magic!"
"I'll leave the real magic to Blaspherion, or Sapphire, or even Artifist," Sparrowhawk replied with a smirk, setting down her mug beside her computer. "I'll do what I do best...continue to deal in smoke and mirrors."
