Issue Thirty-eight, Good Saruva Hunting
Flashback, Aftermath at the Airport
[This took place while Sting and Defender were downstairs in the
Power Room in Issue 36 - Ed.]
As Thunderbolt and MidKnight took off to pursue Black Dragon,
Merlynne watched a moment, then went to her comm system. "Defender, we've
got everyone pretty
much out. How goes things on your end?" She was met with nothing but
static.
Flex looked around the assembled heros. As he replayed back the battle in his m
ind he was angry with himself for trying too hard to please Sting and the rest of
the team. But more than anything he hated to admit that, deep inside what drove
him was the chance to catch Saruva.
Slowly, despite how his body still ached from the beating he'd received he went
over to Merlynne.
"Hey. Did you see any sign of Cheetah 'nd Jackal's boss. Scientist called Saruva
?"
"Nae." Merlynne replied. "Not even sure he was here at any point of the battle
."
"That's what I feared. As usual he is at work but only from the shadows." Flex
sat down feeling somewhat dejected.
As he took in the scene around him he was aware how few of the heroes remained a
t the scene. Turning back to Merlynne he asked, "Where is everybody?"
His question received no answer as Frostbite spotted the unconscious
body of Thermo and ran to it.
He began to shake the villian, trying to wake him
up, shouting, "Where is Saruva? Where?"
"Flex, trouble," Merlynne said as she walked over, Flex following behind. She gra
bbed Frostbite by the shoulder. "Enough of that." she said. "What d'y think yu
ir doin'?"
Flex suddenly aware that Saruva was important to more than just him waited
for Forstbite's reply.
Frostbite was so intent on getting information from
Thermo that at first he didn't even notice someone had
grabbed his shoulder, but Merlynne's grip was hard to
ignore.
He shook off her hand, and threw Thermo back onto the
hard hangar floor as he stepped back to stand opposite
of Flex and Merlynne. "Don't get in my way!
This...this glorified blowtorch is the only link I
have to where he's keeping my kidnapped my sister. He
will give me answers!"
Max came over and looked at the downed man. "If you wake him, we will just have to beat
him up again. He might even get away and then where would you be?"
"Right." Merlynne said. "We keep him unconscious and get answers once he's in
custody. Trust me,
you're nae the only one who wants a piece of this Saruva cat in this outfit. Fl
ex here has his own
bone t'pick, and Sting has some history with the man as well. Besides, when we
walked in, you
we're more or less on their side before the big switch, so p'haps we have some t
o ask of you as to what's
goin' on."
Frostbite looked around at the gathered team and asked,
"Who are you guys anyway?"
He knew he needed answers from Thermo, but if they
were planning to take his unconscious form into
custody, he had to find away to tag along and get the
information he needed upon Thermo's awakening;
hopefully a mind-poundingly painful awakening.
Max let out a belly laugh that was majestic and frightening at the same
time. Once he caught his breath, "You don't read the paper much, do you?
Or watch the telly-news? Or even get out much? These two are full fledged
members of the one and only Port Alexander Protectors. And I am Duke
Maximillian Immergrun, Rex Via, Weilder of Girngrun, Noble Ghost of Old
Town, Marquis of the Spear and Majestic Patron of the Twelve Paladins of the
Rampart... I am he who is called the Beggar King!"
He drew his arms back in from the regal pose he had struck and winked at the
new kid. "But you can call me Max."
Frostbite's eyes widenened a bit after hearing Max's
proclamation, but there was something charismatic
about the Beggar King even if he might be a little off
the deep end. Of course, the world seemed to have
become crazy all on its own volition, so maybe that
was the right attitude.
Raising his hands to try and pacify Frostbite, Flex gently countered.
"You're not the only one who has been hurt by Saruva and his henchmen.
That's partly why we are here, to take him down. Why don't you tell us more
about what you know of Saruva."
Siberian Star stood alone surveying the hanger. So many things didn't make
sense, what was the purpose of tonight's exercise? The Krai, it seemed,
wanted to destroy Port Alexander with some device. Check. A device he was
asked to help disable, then Defender sent him away. Most curious. What
about these thugs? how were they to make their escape? Sure, some could
fly but the others? They couldn't outrun a blast. Perhaps they didn't
know what was planned, lead to their death just following orders; he shook
his head and sighed. History does repeat itself he thought and
subconsciously flexed his armored arm.
Seeing that others were making introductions to Frostbite, the aloof hero
walked up. "I'm Siberian Star, but you knew that I'm sure. Are you going
to peacefully surrender, or do we have to detain you for the authorities?"
"I dinnae think that'll be an issue, Star." Merlynne replied. "If he was gonna
bolt, he'd be doin so by now. We've still got baddies unaccounted for, and he
might be able to help track them down."
Looking down at the unconscious form of Thermo,
Frostbited wondered exactly what Siberian Star meant
by "detain". Everyone was still pretty amped from the
fight most likely, and he didn't want to trigger
further aggression, and he had to admit he had started
in the badguy's camp. Letting his eyes wander over
the gathered heroes, he felt he could trust them.
With most of his story anyway.
Flex nodded as Merlynne spoke. "Now we've settled that, perhaps you can fill us
in, including why and how you are involved in all this anyway..."
With a nod to Merylynne, Frostbite spoke. "No...I'm
not going to run from you. And maybe I can help you
catch some of the people here who got away, but I was
really kept at arms length about almost everything
these guys were doing. This wasn't my first choice of
employment.
"You see, I'm not exactly from around here. My sister
and I decided we needed to get some space from our
parents, and we thought Port Alexander would provide a
great place for us to start our lives. Unfortunately,
it didn't go as smoothly as we had hoped. I was
approached by a guy calling himself 'jet', and it
seemed like he wanted me to do work that involved
hurting people, so I declined. After I saw the news
reports about city hall, I knew he was one of the guys
involved and I was really thankful I had turned him
down. But then things got bad. Jet and Thermo
kidnapped my sister Brooke. I was told to guard this
hangar, and I got to see that Brooke was OK once a
day. A couple of days ago these two animal-men showed
up and a lot of the chinese gang. They all liked to
hurt people.
"I'm pretty sure Brooke is with this guy Saruva, which
is why I'm so desperate to find him. But I don't know
too much more about their operation, or where he is,
except that it seems he's working in some sort of
laboratory. When your group showed up, I figured it
was might be the only chance I had to get out from
under their grip."
With that last statement, Frostbite hung his head
slightly as he wondered at what the fallout from this
attack might do to Saruva's mood.
MidKnight Star and Thunderbolt caught the tail end of that statement
as they returned with the captive Black Dragon.
"One Dragon busted, cuffed and stuffed." MidKnight said. "Now what?"
Merlynne and Flex, the only offical Protectors in the room, took it on
themselves to act as hosts, with only a little prompting from PC. Black
Dragon was added to pool of prisoners.
Defender's voice crackled through the comms, barking orders. A few moments
later Siberian Star was executing a quick sweep of the basement with strict
orders to stay out of the generator room. Max and the TatterKnight made
as if to leave, but Defender told Merlynne to ask them to stay.
Thunderbolt, on the other hand, slipped off after handing Merlynne a
contact number - a shop in Chinatown that would take messages for him.
MidKnight Star got Frostbite's story again, with added information about
Saruva from Flex. They were hitting it off with Frostbite and getting
a good righteous indignation going.
Just as SS was sounding the all-clear down below, IPAC arrived. MidKnight
Star took that as a cue to depart and slipped away with Frostbite.
The Protectors stuck around to give a report and after a few moments
a somber looking Defender came up the stairs from the basement to
face Merlynne, Flex, Siberian Star, Max and the TatterKnight. "Briefing at
Team Defender HQ, now. PC will meet us there."
Max started to say something, but Defender cut him off. "No questions
now. We'll talk at the meeting."
The heroes left the hangar slowly and somewhat subdued.
Behind them, an IPAC emergency medical team brought a stretcher up from
the basement. The figure beneath had a sheet over his face. Mr. Wilkins
flipped it back and looked down, then flipped it forward again and nodded to
the agents. He turned to look at the heroes' departing backs and shook his
head.
And now
Things with Saruva seemed to be coming to a crisis point. His connection
with the Krai had fired some of the heroes to unknown heights of fury
and Saruva seemed to know that he had crossed some kind of line in their
eyes and a showdown was brewing. Where before it had been hard to find
any traces of him at all, now his fingerprints started to show up all
over town.
In Resky Park, many of the Russian mafia enforcers vanished over the course
of a few days. A few showed up a few days later, dead and deformed, with
hypertrophied musculature and, as autopsies revealed, extensive brain damage.
Flex was finding that most of the bottom feeders were either leaving the
city or being hired for one-off jobs planned by "someone smart who needs
a lot of money fast." A rash of armoured car robberies swept the city
and a few of those captured fingered Saruva as the Mastermind.
PC received reports from abroad that money was flowing out of PA and
high tech equipment was flowing in, the authorities were stopping some of
the traffic but not all by any means.
Trouble was brewing.
Siberian Star stood atop an apartment building overlooking Resky Park.
Withdrawing his communicator, he dialed up Flex.
As he sat staring at the wall opposite him, TV light sprayed over the room.
Its bright lidless eye unwatched and unattended. Jim had not really come to
terms with what had happened to Sting. Just then, his back pocket vibrated
as the phone went off.
Needing no prompting, he was out the already open window and on the roof
ready. Action was what he needed right now to clear his mind and he hoped
this call might bring it.
"Its Flex!" He answered...
"Siberian Star here, I've got a lead," he said coldly into the mouthpiece.
So as to not give out too much information across the airwaves Siberian
Star gave Flex the basics of what he had learned about the players in town
who were doing away with the competition.
"Meet me at the usual place."
After Flex arrived on the rooftop of the Kearney Building, Siberian Star
filled him in on what he had learned. "There is one gang that hasn't been
targetted by whatever is turning up dead goons across the Park. My sources
tell me that the mob run by the Dark Lord has only lost a few minor
characters. The others are being decimated and some already cease to
exist. And it isn't just localized here, the same is happening Chinatown."
Siberian Star walked to the edge and looked out over the city, "If the Dark
Lord is getting a pass, it could mean he is behind it; or knows who is.
The alternative is that whoever is causing trouble is afraid of him.
Either way, we need to find out. Have you heard of anything?"
"Not much. I know there's a lot of money flowing out and a lot of equipment
flowing in. That and someone is hiring and hiring big time. There is a lot
of cash and a lot of resources being used. Saruva, and whatever backers he
has, knows that he's pushed us all too far. My guess is, that he's going to
enact some sort of master plan. Either he goes or we do and it doesn't take
a genius to work out who he's betting on." Flex's voice sounded hollow.
The grief and pain of Sting's death still left him reeling and empty, he
felt as if he had a hole in the pit of his stomach.
"That much equipment just might show up on the electrical grid, that is if
they are using city power. If not, then there probably aren't too many
areas with those kinds of generators. It's worth a look, first feel like
paying the Dark Lord a visit?"
Flex looked at the Russian, quite unintentionally he could tell that there
was building a begrudging respect maybe even friendship between them. The
Russian's attitude when they had first met was arrogant and patronising, it
just went to show that first impression don't always count.
"Yeah why not. Don't want him to miss the fun. So where does the villain conscious crime lord hang out these days?"
Siberian Star turned to Flex and said with a smile (or was it a sneer?)
"I'd expect you know some of his employees? Perhaps we can make an
appointment."
Flex turned to Star, "I see my reputation proceeds me. Come on then lets go
pay a visit to a nasty bit of muscle. His mother called him Mike, but most
people know him as the Chopper." Flex seemed somewhat embarrassed, "I know!
I know! Just don't ask how he got the name."
With that, Flex leapt up to the nearest building and was away over the
rooftops, knowing that Star would have no trouble following him.
Quietly the bootjets lifted Siberian Star over Port Alexander as he kept a
watchful eye below careful to not let Flex out of his sight.
They found Mike "the Chopper" Agliotti at Enrico's Clam House, a
restaurant known as a mob hangout. Chopper was seated at one of the
sidewalk booths enjoying the late May evening with a carafe of red wine
and a bowl of pasta primavera.
They watched from a nearby rooftop and planned their approach.
"How do you think we should handle this?" Flex said as Siberian Star landed
quietly beside him.
"Since we need his help, we ought to let him finish his dinner. I have a
feeling that our proposal will cause him to lose his appetite; unless you
prefer a more direct approach?" proposed Siberian Star.
Flex shrugged, so Siberian Star continued, "We wait. After dessert, we make a deal."
"I agree, why don't you distract the rest of them. Make a showy entrance
or
something, and whilst their focused on you, I'll grab 'Chopper' for a chat.
I'll meet you a block back on that crane back there. The height and should
make help loosen Choppers jaw."
Siberian Star bristled visibly, "Would you want someone to ruin your
dinner? It is a sign of bad hospitality, and we need him to want to help
us. If we disrespect the Dark Lord's employee, then he will not want to
deal with us. After he finishes, then we will give him a chance to help
us. If he refuses, then we will persuade him with more barbaric means."
"Ah I think we miss understand each other. I did mean after he's finished
his meal. Besides 'barbaric' is all a meathead like Chopper knows." Flex
tried to explain patiently.
"First, we try my way," the icy hero said dismissing Flex's explanation.
Flex laughed, "If you know men like Chopper, you know there is no civil way
with them. But I wouldn't want to be accused of being unfair. By all means
lets try it your way. But bear in mind Chopper and his goons will be
'carrying', if you know what I mean. So don't be fooled. These men don't
believe in playing fair!"
Turning to watch the men below, Flex settled himself down in a shadowy area
of the rooftop. If he knew Chopper, he knew dinner wouldn't be a quick
affair.
Siberian Star harrumphed dismissively and waited. Strong-arm tactics was
what he was trying to avoid as he brushed his armoured suit in remembrance
of past sins.
Chopper finished his pasta primavera, then ordered coffee and sambuca
as well as little pastry. Finally he rose; the heroes could see him
apparently complimenting the staff, but didn't see him pay. Then
he started walking toward the parking area behind the restaurant.
The absence of guards and comp meal caused a smile to creep across Siberian
Star's face. This was just the man he needed. Not bothering to see if
Flex was paying attention, he quietly rose into the air and flew over to
the parking lot hoping to get there before Chopper reached his car.
Likewise Flex leapt along easily but keeping some distance as he followed
Chopper from behind. Not taking any chances he watched just in case he had
some muscle at a distance.
Siberian Star seemed intent on doing things his way, which suited Flex, he'd
just back up and see what happened first.
Siberian Star easily reached the parking lot and was able to see Chopper
walking toward his car.
Taking care not to startle him needlessly, Siberian Star landed well in
front of Chopper and tried to appear nonthreatening. "Chopper, relax I'm
not here for anything you've done. Call it a truce, for now."
Chopper's hand darted toward his armpit as Siberian Star landed, but
he dropped it to his side as Star spoke. "Chopper?" he said.
"Who's this Chopper guy? My name's Mike Agliotti."
"Izvinite, I was able to offer a deal for Chopper. Since he is not here, I
suppose we can go downtown and discuss things with the police. Your
choice."
"Discuss what? My dinner menu? I'm a legitimate business man
enjoying a nice night and nice meal. What call do you have threatening
me?" Agliotti reached into a pocket and pulled out a toothpick.
"Legitimate business is what I'm here to discuss with you and your boss. I
want to talk to the Dark Lord."
"The who?" Agliotti shrugged elaborately. "What would a legitimate
businessman like myself know about something like that?"
"Don't forget, I gave you a chance to be treated with respect." Siberian
Star snapped his fingers, thereby resigning himself to Flex's methods.
"Shame!" Flex thought before growing larger and leaping to where Chopper
was.
"Jeee ..." Chopper's shout was cut off as Flex leapt in and grabbed him.
The two heroes quickly took off toward a convenient office building of
about eight stories. Flex climbed up to meet Siberian Star who had
flown and was awaiting him.
The Russian hero sighed and hovered nearby, rotating slowly to turn his
back on Chopper and Flex. "Pity," he said with disgust under his breath,
"let me know when you are done."
Whilst dangling Chopper some way off the top of the building, Flex called
down to Chopper. "How's the view Chopper. Makes a change a big man like
you looking up to someone. Now I don't expect you to talk. You've not got
where you are today, because you give in easy to people like me. Oh no. So
I want you to know that once we've asked you our questions, questions I know
you won't want to answer so we'll have to just go have a chat with your wife
and kids next. Or maybe Geno, your brother. You've always had a fond spot
for him, isn't that right. Is he still at that private school you got him
into?"
Flex could feel his anger rising. Shaking Chopper the big man began to slap
against the side of the building. His body, causing the glass window
against which he kept bashing, to vibrate ominously. "SO SAVE YOURSELF SOME
PAIN BIG MAN!" Flex felt his temper rising, since coming to the Parts, men
like Chopper had made sure that people like Jim, knew where they stood in
the food chain. Men like Chopper cow towed to men like Saruva and the Dark
Lord, men who'd kill without a second thought if they thought you looked at
them funny. Men who'd kill again given half a chance.
Pulling himself together he spoke again this time quietly not so much for
emphasis but simply to keep his anger under control.
"But if you want to spare them and yourself a lot of trouble, why don't you
start to sing about the Dark Lord!"
In a voice that was surprisingly firm, Chopper said, "I still don't
know what you're talking about, I'm a legitimate businessman. But
if I did know something, you'd be buying yourself a word of trouble,
and you haven't even asked any questions! Now pull me up!" His voice
wavered a little at the last.
From over his shoulder Siberian Star spoke, "I asked to speak to the Dark
Lord. There is someone eliminating 'legitimate businessmen' like you on
the streets and we wish to find out who it, maybe even save your job."
"So what're you expecting? Someone to say, oh yeah, let me run you
right over to his secret hideout? Geez! Even I, a simple legitimate
businessman, know better than that. You meet with the Dark Lord on
his terms and timetable. At least, I'd think you did, capice?"
"You CAN arrange such a meeting then?" Siberian Star asked, glancing over
his shoulder at the dangling Chopper.
"Aren't you listening, *no one* arranges such a meeting. Especially
not a legitimate businessman like me. You want to talk to the Dark
Lord, you let people know and if he wants to talk to you, he arranges
a meeting. Or so I've heard."
"Consider the request made," said the Russian hero cooly. "Flex, have you
any other business with our friend?"
Flex elongated his neck so that his face was at the same height as Chopper
then said over his shoulder, "No, I think we're finished with our legit
businessman. You can let him up. But just to remind you Chopper we are
watching. You may have friends but they aren't going to be much good if
there in side Joliet - ok. SO keep your nose clean."
* * * *
Siberian Star had begun to develop his own network of
contacts, as well as letting it be known to elements of
the underworld and the Russiann community that he could be
reached through a few people. One of those people was
Grigori Nazdrevny, who owned and operated The Volga Bathhouse.
After SS had prevented a robbery, Grigori was happy to help.
When Siberian Star stopped by and rapped on the alley window,
old Grigori promptly let him in. The old man poured himself a
vodka and offered one to Siberian Star.
"Some men have come," he said after a sip. "They told me to
tell you that you treated someone called 'Chopper' badly and
that if you wished to discuss it, you should return to the scene of
the crime at midnight tomorrow. Does this mean anything to you,
my young friend?"
"Da," answered the costumed hero. Downing the shot of vodka out of respect
for his friend's hospitality, "It is not to concern you, you have done well
to pass along their message." Siberian Star stood and gave Grigori a hearty
handshake, "It is all a misunderstanding, one that we can straighten out.
Poka, my friend."
"Be careful these are dangerous men, I think," said Grigori rising
and following him the door.
Siberian Star hated to cut his visit short, but there was planning to do.
He took to the air and hailed Flex with his built-in communicator, filling
him in on their midnight meeting.
Flex was grateful that 'Star' had called when Sarge wasn't around., carrying
his com unit all the time felt like the right thing to do but it meant it
could so easily intrude on his real life, also giving the game away. Making
a mental note of the time and details, he finished by adding, "I don't know
about you, but I reckon that these guys will come with back up. I suggest
we get there nice and early, what do you think?"
Star had already disconnect and Flex'es words went into dead air.
Thinking it through, Flex texted Defender, since the funeral the team hadn't
been together perhaps this was a chance to get them connected again. Flex
wrote, " D, SS and myself, after DARK LORD midnight meeting - might need
back up, interested?"
He then added a few short details about the place and sent the message.
Defender crawled out from under the security station in the Fortress to take the
message. Since the funeral, he had kept himself busy away from the Protector's
headquarters. Today he had finally made up his mind to see to one last securit
y project. Ironic that he would be contacted as he worked away on it.
He read it and laughed aloud. "Business as usual," he muttered as he typed.
"Meet-up? When and where?"
He went back to his work, letting the comm vibrate itself to sleep with the deta
ils. He had just one more thing to do before he went home.
* * * *
Defender took up a position
a few buildings away from the rooftop where the meeting was
hopefully to take place. Flex arrived very early and found a place
to hide and wait in his own inimitible style.
Shortly before midnight, Siberian Star did a fly over and saw nothing
suspicious nor any sign of the Dark Lord. He took up a holding
pattern to wait. At one minute before midnight by his watch, the
door to the roof opened. Two men stepped out and quickly gave the roof a
once over. One stepped back to the door and a third man stepped out. Like
the others he was dressed in an elegant suit, but unlike them he wore
a cloak or jacket over his shoulders. Another man followed him out
and set up a director's chair. The man with the cloak sat gracefully
and looked at his watch.
Siberian Star descended quietly on the rooftop, and extended his arms
outward to show he meant no harm. Carefully he walked forward, "Dark Lord,
I presume?"
"Indeed," said the man. "And you are Siberian Star. You behaved very
rudely
to an associate of mine here. I trust you have a good reason?"
"Your associate was not forthcoming after I had shown him all respect due a
legitimate businessman of his professed stature. I admit though, my
sidekick was quite rude to him and for that I apologize. But you are a
hard man to get an audience with, so I am honored," Siberian Star tilted
his head in a bow.
"Port Alexander is undergoing a reorganization of sorts which I am sure you
are aware of, having lost some business to outsourcing as it were. I
prefer the current homegrown workforce and was hoping we could work
together to eliminate this interloper."
Whilst Siberian Star descended to the rooftop, Flex moved to within ear
shot, creeping up the side of the building to be at hand. The way the
conversation seemed to be going, Flex thought it best to stay where he was
for the moment.
For a moment there was silence, then the seated man laughed. It was
a deep rich laugh that suggested genuine amusement. "Indeed? 'Eliminate
outsourcing.' And you seek me out, to work with you." He turned to
one of his bodyguards, "Gianni, he wants my help." He shook his head.
"Gianni, the sprayer." The bodyguard reached into his pocket and removed
a device about the size of paperback novel. The seated man took it and
looked at a readout of some kind on its face, then pressed a few buttons.
When he spoke again, his voice sounded oddly flat and distorted. "There,
now we can speak freely." He set the device down on the floor near his
chair. "Now, care to elaborate?"
Siberian Star looked left then right and took a step forward to assure that
he was within range of this unusual device. His mind raced at just how it
worked, flying through the formulae and everything he learned about sound
and its properties. But there was a task at hand.
"The streets have become dangerous for men in your line of work, and this
causes danger for men in my line of work; plus the innocents. I know there
is a mutual competition between our chosen vocations, but I know that a
businessman like yourself depends on the innocents below to maintain a
certain demand to your supply. Whoever is playing outside the rules of
good sportsmanship needs to be removed from the playing field."
The Russian paused and chose his next words carefully. "I don't agree with
your methods or overall goals, as I'm sure you feel similarly about mine.
But if you help me, I can help you."
"Is that so?" The Dark Lord leaned forward, "How can you help me,
my young friend?"
"Port Alexander is a big city, I spend much of my time in Resky Park as I
am sure you know. Were something to happen elsewhere, I could easily be
focused on something closer to home."
"I see. And how can I help you?" continued the Dark Lord.
"These latest steroid deaths on the street in around the Park. I think
Saruva is behind it, I know you know the name. Give him up, and I might be
able to fix your problem that is turning up dead gangsters. There's a new
game in town, he hasn't hurt you bad yet, but once a man gains
confidence..." he trails off.
A frown crossed the Dark Lord's face. "Finding Saruva is proving ...
troublesome. Have you heard of the Net? They are involved with him
somehow. I do not yet know if they are funding him, using him
to try to expand their operations, merely supplying him with
equipment, or if they have some other motive.
"If I do find Saruva, how would I find you to tell you?"
"You may use the same method as this time. Only do not send such rude
deliverymen, Grigori is a good friend that values his business," answered
the Russian hero. "Your assistance is most appreciated, if there are some
competitors I can remove from the streets please let me know. Eliminating
them in Port Alexander brings much trouble, but once inside prison your
long arm moves freely."
Listening in from the side of the wall, Flex had to do a double take.
Either Star was playing the dark Lord at his game, something he'd had to do
more than once. Or he really was making a deal with the devil. Either way,
he'd have to find out exactly where Siberian Star really stood.
"Will that be sufficiently expeditious?" asked the Dark Lord. "If - when -
I find Saruva, time might be of the essence."
Siberian Star looked around, and called out a telephone number. "Call it,
and you'll reach me."
"Very well," said the Dark Lord. "Was there anything else?"
"Is Chopper the best way to contact you, should I come across something
that you might find interesting?"
"If you are discreet, not that that appears to be your strong suit," said
the Dark Lord, "you may call this number." He held out his hand
and one of the bodyguards placed a card in it. "It is an answering
service." He scribbled on the card with a pen. "Ask for the name
on the card and leave a message, using the name I've written down
here." He offered it to Siberian Star.
Siberian Star took the card, glanced at it and tucked it away. Slowly he
began to ascend as his bootjets came on, "I beg your pardon but the
citizens of Port Alexander need me. Do svidaniya."
Seeing Star leave, Flex hung around a little longer in case the Dark Lord or
his cronies had a parting shot that might be useful.
The Dark Lord watche Siberian Star go, then shook his head slowly.
"We're done here," he said. One of the goons recovered the device and
the group departed.
Interlude 38.1: Catching a Star
Last Updated 2 March 2005
