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Guest starring Privateer of the Harborview Swordbearers!



October 3, 1987

Received word from Harborview that the Wuxia removed themselves last night, thanks to what appears to have been an exquisitely prepared plan. Holly got a few column inches this morning, naturally, wanting to know what we're going to do about finding them "before these people start destroying the city—again." That last piece about the budget office has already resulted in a Senate investigatory committee being set up; I would so much rather she kept her attention on people other than us.
    "I was in Japan when you fought these guys; are they tough?" Talon asked.
    "Yes," Scott replied soberly.
    I nodded. "We got our asses very thoroughly kicked the first time we met them." The second time went much better of course, but I'm not about to start feeling confident. Worse, there doesn't seem to be much we can do about it. Assuming they've returned to their Boston haunts, last time we went poking around Chinatown for information the sound of doors slamming in our faces was deafening. If Yen's been hiding out there this whole time, odds are one in one that Scott's right and he's been quietly rebuilding a support structure there. We'll probably go in and ask some questions just for the look of it, but we're not expecting any results. Of course the police will check the contacts they have in place, and are on the lookout for any unusual activity—like people dropping dead of accidental swordthrusts through the heart, spontaneously combusting, or as Scott put it, "having their souls or minds sucked out through a straw."
    Nice thought.
    Nor are they our only major-league problem right now, since we still haven't decided what to do about Mr. Mort. He has not filed a police report about the break-in, which strongly suggests that whatever was stolen was something he should not have had. I wonder, if Thunderbolt asked nicely enough, if Cait Sith would tell him what it was? So we've got confirmation that Mort's a League agent, and highly placed by Thunderbolt's estimation, given the information access he must have had to pierce Paul's disguise the way he did. Even if the strike team that grabbed Marcus is gone, he remains a problem we'll have to deal with somehow.
    There's also the Egyptian exhibit at the museum, which opens next week, and in which at least three local villains will be interested, unless I miss my guess. The Windjammers have put in their own security system for the duration, which will probably keep Manny out, anyway. It's going to be open for a whole month, and the tickets are going fast.
    Nothing we can do about anything at the moment, it seems. Thunderbolt's off at an AMC publicity thing with the Veterans of Foreign Wars; Phoenix Talon's gone to find his "boys" and let them know about the Wuxia, tell them to keep an eye out but if they see anything to keep very far away from them and to call us immediately. Scott's still plugging away tenaciously on the Resurrectionist stuff.

[Aside: Privateer]

[Aside: Thunderbolt]

[Aside: Scott]

(afternoon of the same day)

Sometimes I wonder what other teams' meetings are like. I mean, I sat in on that one with the Warriors, but that was a quiet day. When things get interesting here, they don't do it by halves. Newton was removed, protesting, before we got down to business.
    "I understand you had a run-in with Toy Man," Reilly mentioned to Thunderbolt, who gave us the details of his encounter. That was just fascinating; I really hate to say it, but it's starting to look like Phoenix Talon might be on the right track. It seems a bit of a stretch for him to show up at one of their silly PR frenzies.
    Reilly shook his head and looked at his notes. "So obviously, on the agenda, the Wuxia are out."
    "Yes, they are," I sighed.
    "I think we can probably all guess where they're going, unless they've decided they're going to move to New York's Chinatown, or maybe Los Angeles' Chinatown."
    "They're buried back in Chinatown with their other member, who we know is there. Who is apparently making great strides in taking over Chinatown," Scott noted. The surgical way they'd removed those Alley Cats bespoke a good deal of preparation.
    "I don't find it that hard to believe," Reilly agreed grimly. "Judging from everything that you guys said happened while I was gone, the World Crime League cleaned out their competition. Don Vincent is still lying in a bed, attempting to reorganize his little fan club, meaning that if they are attempting to consolidate power in there, they're not going to have an awful lot of opposition. What do you intend to do?"
    I shrugged. "We'll look for them as best we can, but I'm not incredibly hopeful that we'll turn anything up."
    "There's not a lot we can do, I think, until they start doing stuff," Scott agreed.
    "They're pretty good at lying hidden."
    "Well, fortunately, five out of the six of them are relatively stupid and violent," the robot noted.

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© 2001 Rebecca J. Stevenson