|
#3
DEC 08 |
 |
“Forgotten Heroes” Part Three
Heather McNeil walked slowly down the street, her mind on things other than the beautiful Ontario landscape that stretched up well into the clouds.
Things had happened so fast in the past few months and she needed time to think; to get her head straight. Unfortunately, the more time she spent along with her thoughts and feelings, the worse things got. She desperately needed to talk to someone and confide in him or her, but who was there to turn to since the ones she would normally turn to were either part of the problem or not available.
She couldn't talk to Mac, or rather to either of the two Macs, as they seemed to be on some sort of crusade to prove that they were the one true James Macdonald Hudson and the other was the clone, or impostor or whatever. They were both part of the problem as well as one of them, or both, were the man she first fell in love with and perhaps still did.
Eugene Judd, a.k.a. Puck, was the one person she could always count on when Mac had been distant. They had spent long hours talking about life and simple things when they were close to prisoners of Department H, and they had grown close. Of course, they had subsequently dated for a while after the rest of the original Alpha Flight team turned up and now Puck was one of the problems she had.
The last person she could talk to was Madison Jeffries, but he had been gone for almost two years. They second incarnation of the team had battled Scorpio and some members of a new Zodiac, who then captured Madison and then escaped. The next time they crossed paths, it was found that Madison was now one of their members, but whether brainwashing was involved or he was there under his own volition is a question that none of the team could answer.
Heather sighed as she got to the end of the forest path.
Why is it that the people I'm closest to are also the ones I end up sleeping with? She thought.
She looked up at the glistening metal building that was the home to Department H and which was her home for the past few years. In the end, she knew that there was one impartial person that she could talk to and that would be enough. She allowed a smile to break across her face at the thought of her confiding in someone from Department H.
"Mr Gentry?" Heather asked as she stood in the doorway.
The man sitting behind the desk looked up at her, silently placing a folder to one side as he did so.
"Heather," he replied, recognising her instantly.
"Long time no see," she said quietly.
"It certainly has been," he said, leaping to his feet and rushing around to greet her, his hand outstretched.
Heather smiled for what seemed like the first time in a long, long while as she took his hand in hers and shook it.
"So, what have you been up to since you left?" he asked.
"Oh, you know," she said. "The usual."
"I see," he said. "Well, when you have spent a large proportion of your adult life in a costume fighting crime as a superhero, the usual is a little more than out there than normal."
Heather laughed slightly.
"True," she conceded. "But now I'm in retirement I'm enjoying the quiet life."
"Go on," he said.
"You know. Country walks; fresh air; sipping wine outside a cafe watching the world go by."
"Sounds fantastic," Gentry said. "So why are you here then? Surely you don't want to leave that all behind?"
"Not at all," Heather said quickly. "Never again. I've had my fill of costumes and politics and machinations."
"Indeed," he said with a smile.
"No, I'm just here for a visit," she continued. "I wanted to talk to a few people."
"I see," he said. "And what about the telephone? Why come all the way out here?"
"You forget that they don't allow calls Mr Gentry," Heather said quietly.
"Ah yes," he said. "I had forgotten."
Gentry turned and started to walk back to his desk.
"Do you mind if we chat while I work?" he asked, picking up some more files and putting them in a box on his desk. "I don't mean to be rude."
"Sure," Heather replied, walking towards him. "Do you still work all hours, Mr Gentry?"
"I used to," he said. "I used to work here because it was the best job I ever had. You were the best people to work with and we did some good things for a while."
"What do you mean, Mr Gentry?" Heather asked. "What do you mean used to?"
"It's being closed down," Gentry replied, picking up a framed photograph from the desk and placing it in a box. "It wasn't meant to be."
"Department H?" Heather asked.
"As of the first of next month," he said.
Heather was slightly astonished. She thought that with Gentry at the helm, Department H could once again become what Mac had always wanted it to be. There would be no behind the scenes skulduggery, or strange machinations. Gentry like a breath of fresh air for Department H and Canada in general.
"They'll open it back up again," Heather said softly. "They always do."
"Possibly," he commented. "I won't be around to be there though."
"Oh? Why not?"
"I'm giving it up," he replied. "I'm getting out of Canada."
"Why?" Heather asked. "Change of scenery?"
"My wife is very ill," he replied as he continued to pack. "There's a specialist in Europe who might be able to help. We're flying out there tomorrow."
"I'm sorry," Heather said softly.
He turned to her.
"No need to be," he said with a smile. "Things will be fine. They always are."
Heather returned the smile as he turned back and continued to clear his desk.
"Thanks," she said.
"What for?" he asked.
"Talking," he replied. "For being here, and for giving us a chance when you took over. For being straight with us."
He picked up the last of the paperweights and stroked it in his hand. It was a snow globe with a plastic model of the Department H building inside. He shook it and the fake snow whirled around in the liquid inside. He turned back to Heather.
"Not a problem," he said. "It was a pleasure. I always say that people should be treated properly. It's the only way you get them to do things for you."
Heather nodded, and then he tossed the paperweight to her. She caught it in both hands and looked at it.
"Good luck Heather Hudson," he said.
She looked up and was about to correct him, but she didn't. She knew then what she had to do, and what she wanted to do.
June 2006
Heather and Puck met in a quiet café on University Street in Montreal. He had just returned from a month long expedition in Antarctica and had lots to tell her. And he proceeded to do so for well over two hours and through three courses plus coffee.
It was understandable, however. He had been so excited to tell his tale, but more importantly he seemed more excited to see Heather. After all, they had been apart for the longest period of time since they had began dating.
"Hey," he said with a grin. "I've been hogging the conversation. What say I let you have some airtime."
Heather looked down at her coffee. She hadn't touched a drop, and had spent the time since it was brought to her playing with the three petit fours that were an accompaniment.
"What's wrong, eh?" Puck asked. "I mean I know I haven't given you much of a chance to speak, but by now you usually would have forced your way into the conversation."
Heather looked up and him and allowed herself a slight smile.
"What's up, eh?" he asked.
That was when the tears came. She had been holding them back for as long as she could, and while he had been talking she hadn't had to look at him; hadn't had to look deeply into his eyes and see the glittering soul beyond.
"Hey," Puck said offering her his napkin. "My stories weren't that boring were they?"
"Puck," Heather began, declining the napkin. "Puck, I have something I have to tell you."
"Well, I…" and then he saw it, the look in her eyes.
Through the tears he saw the truth. He saw that although her body was there in the café with him, her soul and her heart were elsewhere.
"I'm…," she said, trying to fight back the tears and find the words.
"What is it Heather?" he asked quietly, placing his hand on hers as it rested on the table.
She flinched slightly at the touch, and he knew. She looked at their hands and then back up to him.
"I'm so sorry Eugene," she sobbed.
"You're still in love with Mac, right?" he asked.
"I… I'm not…"
"Yes you are," he said. "You're sure. You've known it all along. I guess we both have."
She said nothing.
"I just hope Mac does," he finished.
"Oh Eugene," she said, as the tears came flooding back.
"Heather," he said abruptly, raising his hand to stop her. "Lets just…. Lets just, leave it at that, okay?"
"But…?"
"I think it would be best," he said, his voice slightly flat. "We're both adults Heather. These things happen."
Puck put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a wad of dollars. He sifted through them, and tossed some on the table, before he slid out of the booth.
"Eugene, I…"
"I just need some time." He said "So do you, and its probably best we don't dwell on things right now."
"Eugene," Heather said, feeling slightly angry that he was acting like that. "We need to talk about this. We need to sort things out. I…"
"No we don't Heather," Puck replied curtly. "You've already decided for us both. There's nothing either of us can say to make this better. Not for both of us anyway."
With that, he turned and walked out of the door of the café.
Heather never saw him again.
November 2006
Heather eventually tracked down Mac on an island off the West Coast. He had retired there shortly after Sasquatch and the other original Alphans had brought him back into the fold. Even though it was medically confirmed that he was the original James Macdonald Hudson and the other, younger one was a clone, he announced that he wanted to go away and spend some time on his own. That was almost a year ago and he had no intention of going back, even though Mr Gentry's regime had seemed to be bringing Alpha Flight back to the spirit in which James had originally intended it to work.
"Mac," Heather said, after she had silently watched him chopping logs for ten minutes.
He spun around, wielding the axe, but not in a threatening manner. The surprise in his eyes was obvious to Heather even from her vantage point almost a hundred metres away.
"Heather," he gasped.
The tears came to her again as she looked at the man she loved; the man she had always loved, and who she would always love for the rest of her life.
James dropped the axe and ran up towards her. She was elated and scared in equal measure, so she froze. Even though she wanted to run to him, hold him and caress him, she couldn't move. It didn't matter, as a few seconds later he had reached her and they threw their arms around each other.
April 2008 - Over Montreal
"This is Department H to Alpha Jet." Heather's voice echoed around the jet.
"Go ahead Vindicator," Northstar replied. "Sorry. I mean Heather."
Heather McNeil Hudson ignored him, and instead flicked the switch on the communication desk.
"Are you at the destination yet?" she asked.
"Coming up on it now," James replied from the cockpit of the Alpha Jet.
It had taken all of the previous night and most of the morning for Heather to persuade him to keep his promise and not put on his Guardian suit. She didn't have enough energy though to stop him flying the Alpha jet into battle.
"We're getting some more information on the target," she continued, looking through the print out in front of her. "He's on the move, and fast. However, the Government Task Force is right on top of him."
"I can't wait to get my hands on him," Radius growled, rubbing his right fist with his left hand. "I've been itching for a fight for an age."
"You'll get your chance Radius," James said excitedly. "This is going to go down as Alpha Flight's greatest triumph."
"Whatever you say boss man," Radius said with a grin.
"Caution should be advised James," Shaman said calmly. "The person we pursue will not give up easily."
"I hope not," Radius said.
Flex turned to his brother and glared at him.
"What?" Radius asked. "What's up with you, l'il bro? The thought of action getting to you again?"
Flex turned his head away.
"Come on big guy," Radius said, standing up and moving over towards his brother. "Don't tell me you're back to your old chicken self?"
"Leave me alone Jared," Flex whispered.
"Leave him be Radius," Northstar said.
Radius spun around, his fists clenched.
"What's it to you pansy?" Radius roared.
Northstar was on his feet in an instant. Swiftly he made a move to grab Radius, but instead his hand smashed off of his already extended force field.
"Northstar!" Aurora called out.
"Stay out of this sister!" Northstar shouted. "This is between me and this boy."
"Who're you callin' boy?" Radius shouted. "I'm a real man, unlike some I could mention."
"Enough!" James roared from the controls. "We are a team dammit! Start acting like one and sit the hell down!"
Radius and Northstar stood still, ready to strike if the other one moved.
"Both of you!" James shouted. "Down! Now!"
Slowly they both backed off and took their seats, Northstar beside the communications desk and Radius towards the back of the jet in the temporary mess room.
"Dear God," James muttered. "How am I supposed to lead a team of bickering children?"
Snowbird stepped forward from where she had been standing. She had been watching the events unfold and now placed a reassuring hand on James' shoulder. James jerked slightly at her touch.
"Do not be angry James," she said softly. "Forgive them their anger but never give in to yours."
"Thanks Snowbird," James said with a smile.
"Always," Snowbird said and retreated back to her seat.
"And zat is 'ow I came to find you," Murmur said softly as she brushed the snow from her clothes.
"You came all the way out here to help me?" Puck asked, tipping snow from inside his hat. "I'm honoured."
"To tell you ze truth," Murmur began. "I was frightened for you. For both of you."
"Ha!" Puck laughed. "How could you possibly be frightened for me? I grew up in this place. I know the wilds like the back of my hand."
"But do you know Sasquatch?" Murmur asked.
"Are you kiddin'?" Puck asked, his eyebrows raised. "Walter's my best buddy. We're closer than you can get without sharin' bodily fluids."
"Is zat so?" Murmur asked. "So zat is why you are creeping around after him rather than confronting him face to face, eh?"
"The reason I'm creeping around," Puck said, raising his voice slightly, "is because I don't want to frighten him off."
"Ha!" Murmur shouted. "And why would he be frightened of you? You being such close friends?"
"Well, I…" Puck began, but she was right and he knew it. "To be honest, I'm really not sure what I'm going to do when I do finally confront him."
"Go on."
"He became so animalistic before he left Alpha," Puck continued. "He reminded me of the real Sasquatch. The one that Department H kidnapped from his family and forced to join Alpha Flight some three years ago."
"And zat made you frightened to approach him?"
"Not frightened," Puck replied. "More… apprehensive. Who knows what he's like right now? He could have regressed somehow, into more animal than man and I don't want to get into a situation where we might end up fighting each other. Not through any fear of bodily injury, though."
"Zen what?" Murmur asked.
Puck looked down at his snow-covered boots. He gently shook his right foot, but it wouldn't come loose. He looked back up at Murmur, his face pale and sad.
"Fear that my friend might be lost to me forever," Puck replied softly.
"Alpha Flight have been deployed," James said as Flex leapt from the jet door and landed a few feet below on the top of the building. He hurried after the rest of their teammates as they crossed the roof and went for the stairwell that would lead into the heart of the building.
"Good work Mac," Heather said.
"Any idea who we're up against here?" James asked. "Any reasoning?"
"Nothing as yet," Heather replied. "We're still doing data crunching, but as yet nothing has come up that is of any use. Pinpointing them was the best we could do, and to be honest it was luck more than anything that got us here."
"Keep on it," James replied. "We need as much information as possible, but I'm sure the team can handle whatever these bastards have up their sleeves."
"Mac."
"Yes Heather?"
"Are you okay about this?"
"About what?" James asked.
"About being a part of all this again?" Heather asked hesitantly.
"Heather, we're saving lives," James replied. "It's what we're good at, and we're needed. That's the bottom line."
Heather didn't say anything more. She though carefully about his words.
"Heather?"
"Yes Mac?"
"What about you?" James asked. "Are you okay about working as part of Alpha Flight again?"
"I…" Heather began. "I don't know Mac. I just don't know."
"Roof is clear!"
The voice of Shaman echoed around the cockpit and the communications room at Department H simultaneously.
"Good work Shaman," James said.
"Proceeding down towards target."
"My God, Mac!" Heather gasped.
"What is it?" James asked.
Heather sounded scared. More scared than he had ever heard her sound before. She was a strong woman, perhaps the strongest he had ever met, and through the years he had known her it took a lot to make her nervous.
"Heather?" he asked again. "What is it?"
"It's a book Mac," she replied softly. "The words that the killer has been leaving at the crime scenes. They are the first few words of a book. The first book in a series of twenty. One of those sci-fi epics."
James' mind raced.
"My God," he breathed. "How many…?"
"It's over a thousand pages Mac," Heather said in response to the question, which had tried to ask. "Word count is over two hundred thousand per book. In total, it's near 5 million words."
James let the figure sink in.
"Mac," Heather breathed. "They're going to kill everyone in Montreal."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
To Be Continued...
Previous Issue | Next Issue