Chapter 1

Bomber Kelso was getting old. It was about time he thought. He’d looked and felt about 45 as long as he could remember. Now he was over a century and the oldest mystery man in the business. As he put it he was the oldest hooker on the block. Looking younger than his years deprived him of a measure of respect he felt he was due. Of course, so did his drinking, smoking and chasing anything in heels.

            Sitting on a rooftop overlooking the park, Bomber a rest break in his nightly patrol. Actually it was a smoke break. He lit up a Torchlight, unfiltered because he wasn’t a ‘weak sister’, and took a long drag. Behind him was a billboard selling condos in Beckton. It was a clear and quiet night. The borough of Steeltown was spread before him and he had a good view of the skyscrapers that marked the Core District of Victory City to the south. Farther south the Beckly Tower rose lit by red and blue lights and Bomber blew an expertly formed smoke ring in that direction.

            “Beckton,” he thought. “A one hooker burg and she’s half starved to death.” There was no way Bomber would buy a condo there. He noticed a small figure flying among the buildings of the Core and wondered if it was anyone he knew. This time of the evening it was probably Magnoman. He was one of the few new guys Bomber liked. Not one to sit in judgment over a colleague for starting a hamburger chain or writing some unflattering memoirs or having a belt now and then.

A car alarm went off a few blocks away.

Bomber frowned a moment before dropping his half smoked cigarette and stepping on it. “Ain’t that always the way of it?” he grumbled. Then he turned and jumped to the next building easily hurling across the street below him.

Bomber wasn’t impressive until he moved. Standing still he was a slightly pudgy man with a broken nose. He wore an old aviator’s jacket over a black bodysuit and a leather helmet with goggles that hid most of his face and head. No capes for him. It was a fairly conservative costume for someone fighting for justice. But if he wasn’t a super hero it would still mark him as a head case anywhere but a science fiction convention.

But now he was moving and his true nature was obvious as he leapt the twenty yards between the buildings. Physically at least, he was more than human. He could bend pennies with his fingers, leap tens of yards and was known to flip cars (and once a truck) over. He could heal serious wounds in minutes and often did.

But he liked jumping the best. Dropping down in crooks was his trademark and how he chose his name. He was especially good at landing on car roofs and imploding them. And landing in front seats after smashing through sunroofs.

 Right now he was just ignoring gravity a few seconds at a time. His goggles did an excellent job of keeping the wind out of his eyes. Once he also wore a scarf to add to the aviator theme of his costume, till the Black Moth stuck the ends in a auto-gyro engine and nearly choked him.

Bomber landed on a roof overlooking an alleyway lined with the backdoors to shops and takeout kitchens. He knew as he landed it was not the kind of place you parked your car. Trash pickup was in an hour and the waste removal truck needed that entire alleyway to service the businesses. The locals would have raised hell immediately and gotten any trespassing vehicle towed. Bomber realized this a moment before he landed an immediately fell into a crouch as the alarm cut off. He scanned the rooftops a moment and wished his powers included night vision.  He weaved to the side as he heard the faint scrape of a sole on the asphalt behind him but then relaxed as he heard a familiar chuckle.

“Damn. I still can’t get the drop on you,” his stalker complained. The man stepped from the shadows away from a large air conditioner his black cape seeming to flow out of his way. Few people could get this close to Bomber. The Dark Avenger was one of them, in spite of what some considered a pretentious name. The Avenger an arm showing a gunmetal gray armguard and pointed to a small speaker grill.

“Sound effects generator: car alarms, sirens you name it, I mimic it. It even plays music,” he explained. “I caught sight of you a few blocks back but I couldn’t keep up with your leaps on a swingline. I figured the car alarm would draw you out.”

Bomber came up from his crouch and opened his fists. He scowled a little and muttered, “It might have drawn God knows who else too.”

The Dark Avenger smirked a little. His helmet covered his upper face but the smirk was obvious. “A car alarm? No one checks out car alarms these days… except us.”

Bomber had to agree.He grinned a little, stuck out his hand and the two shook.

            “What brings you to Steeltown, Skip?” Bomber asked trying not to sound suspicious. He watched his colleague for any reaction but the Avenger was hard to read behind his helmet. It was why he wore it of course. The Dark Avenger, Skip to his friends shrugged. He answered slowly, “I get around.”

            The Dark Avenger was a lousy liar with his friends.

            Bomber snorted derisively. “’Ain’t many of you young guys bother with me anymore. Don’t strain our mutual respect with a load of bullshit,” Bomber said. The Dark Avenger pretended to adjust his equipment belt.  He considered his reply for a few seconds.

            “Vengeance,” Skip said softly.

            Bomber nodded knowingly. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

            “Vengeance… yeah he’s turning out to be a bad one. I can reach out to the other masks in Steeltown. Dr. Bones, the Red Mask, maybe even the Jackalent for this. We could form a new Midnight Brigade. We could rein him in fast and maybe get him some help or at least lock his ass up,” Bomber said talking a little too fast. Some excitement was showing in his voice. Never mind he was pretty much the sidekick to the brigade in the thirties and barely tolerated. Supposedly the original Red Masque shot him at least once but it didn’t take.

            The Dark Avenger folded his arms and looked uncomfortable. “I talked to them already. I was… I meant to ask you to think of taking a rest… for a while… till we catch this freak.”

            Bomber slowly clenched his fists again. His face colored a little and then he finally said, “Fuck you.” He opened his mouth again but after a moment shut it again. Then he leaped across the rooftops into the night and was gone.

            The Dark Avenger was tempted to remove his helmet to rub his temples for a moment but secret identities had to be protected. Finally he removed a small comm.-stick from his belt and said, “It didn’t go well. I’m returning to base.”