Ultimate 'Haven #4: The Curious Case of... Pt. 1

[The Wonderful Wachter]

Last Time in the pages of Ultimate ‘Haven
Jason is caught sneaking into his bedroom after a long night chasing White Rabbit by his guardian and master, Richard Dragon. Wasting no time, the next day his investigations deduce that White Rabbit is a Meta-human that can create duplicates of herself. With the beauty mark on her chest the key, Cluemaster talks him into party crashing a Kane organized gala. Kate and Jason find enough proof that Jaina Hudson is the source of White Rabbit while there. Later on, Jason watches as Hudson is carted out of her suite by suspicious paramedics and is left with a mysterious message that he should pay attention at school.

On Monday… Helena Bertinelli, daughter of the Bertinelli family’s head and newly arrived in Blüdhaven, joins his homeroom.

Ultimate ‘Haven #4
The Curious Case of Aaron Langstrom Pt. 1
Friendship is Magic

Tommy Elliot is alive. I don’t know how but he’s alive. It’s impossible. I saw him die. Well, I didn’t actually see it but I did hear the explosion… Okay, I probably imagined that but still… I remember their faces… Richard, Ted, Jack… All of them said the same thing. Barely anything remained in the rubble to recognize the last of the Elliots. X, Hood, Talon… all just remains.

So tell me, how is he alive? Is this another one of his parlor tricks? And if that’s truly him then why him and not Jason? Why a murderer and not the boy who tried to save our cities?

Sionis Steel Stadium,
Blüdhaven

The stands were filled to the brim with people from all walks of life. From your lowest blue collar work to the richest stars and celebs to even the criminal upper class, all had joined together for this event, to listen to their national anthem as one and vehemently cheer against one another as two supporters of two vastly different causes. The thought made Mitchell smile. If anything could be said about Blüdhaven – and her sister city, Gotham – they did love their sports. And it wasn’t just for money changing hands over the bets. They truly loved the ferocity of it all. The competition. A mafia don would risk coming out just to see his favorite team, or in this case the greatest game of the season, because it was a visualization of how they saw the world.

A game.

A game where you drafted the best players.

A game where those best players would bleed and sweat just for them.

They’d take their football for one day. Party the night. Collect their bets next. An event for everyone.

Yet in watching the crowds surge below, Mitchell knew this was more than about the city which held it. Star City Comets versus the Metropolis Sharks in the Superbowl. Few other teams could claim such a rivalry as these two for the Comets had once been the Metropolis Meteors, his city’s first team, sold of years ago and replaced with the better financed Sharks who had bought their way to more than one championship with the best players and coaches the league had to offer. The Sharks flourished and became ever more vicious after the invasion. The Comets floundered… never quite finding the support of Star City until now. The underdog.

Green versus blue. It’d be decided on the gridiron today on which team Metropolis should have kept.

“Mayor Hunded!” an excited voice cried from behind him, “The Great Machine! Apologies for making you wait.” Mitchell turned to see Blüdhaven’s mayor enter the owner’s box with open arms, snappishly dressed like most of the Jersey upper class he had ever met. “Surgery ran a bit longer than expected. You’d be amazed at how many people just have to go under the knife at this instant.”

“Mayor Elliot,” Mitchell held out his hand without reservation, “It’s fine, your competition provided decent company.”

Elliot tilted his head and glanced over at the dark haired man Mitchell referred to before accepting the handshake. “March? He’s not competition. More a unfriendly rival until the polls close come November.”

Mitchell frowned. Not at his fellow mayor’s arrogance – or better yet, cockiness – but at the feel of the man’s hand. You could tell a lot about man with the way they gripped you in greeting. Was he a working man? A strong man? Weak and effeminate? His campaign experiences had taught him that much. And this was not the grip of a doctor. Especially not a surgeon whose hands were his lifeblood.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Mitchell shook his head and filed away the information for later, “Are you the last to arrive or will I have the pleasure of meeting our host for the evening?”

Before Elliot could reply, a large arm wrapped itself around his shoulder and brought him in close. “You mean Roman? This was his grandfather’s franchise. He’s more at home with his mother’s cosmetics company if you catch my drift.”

“I’m not sure I do,” Elliot slid from beneath the arm with nearly a snarl on his face. “Just what are you implying, Lincoln?”

Lincoln March a man of chiseled good looks, the jawline of an action hero and the dark, and the wavy hair of a harlequin romance love interest was someone Mitchell could see stealing the mayor’s desk from Elliot providing he kept his mouth shut and read the speeches wrote for him. His appearance and natural umphf might just be enough to get more than just the current administration’s naysayers to back him.

“Tom… I know he’s one of your best friends and largest backers but you gotta admit, it’s strange that he never shows himself in public. Especially at an event as large as this. Rumors do circulate.”

“He’s shy and we should be thankful he offered us his box seats,” Elliot’s glare was one Mitchell recognized… threatening. “You should be thankful.”

“Oh, I am.” March downed his glass of Champaign and stared past Mitchell. “Looks like your team won the toss, Hundred. Lets hope they win the game. I got money on it.”

Mitchell watched March walk away to flirt with whatever model it was he was dating. Now that he had met the two men vying for the Haven’s future, he had to reassess the situation. Tommy Elliot wasn’t cocky or arrogant. He had a right to be confident in his chances of winning.

Cold breath fogged between Jason’s fingers as he rubbed them together. He sat in a sea of green and red as far as the eye could see and he hated every moment of it. Wasn’t that he didn’t want to be there. Wasn’t even that he didn’t like football. It was just… he was a fan of the other team and he had money riding on them.

As the third quarter whined down, it looked like the odds were in his favor as they had been from the start. A fool’s bet. No one honestly thought the Comets stood a chance of winning and Jason was no fool. The Sharks had an unusual lead by over ten points going into halftime. A good lead for the second half and they had carried that momentum on through the third quarter.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he hissed loud enough for Ted to hear him over the cheers and jeers of the crowd, “but couldn’t we have got tickets for the other side? And I don’t know… warmer seats? Like with Kate?”

“Sounds like complain’ to me,” shouted back Wildcat, “and I’ve been a fan of the Comets since they were the Meteors. Almost dreamed of playin’ for ‘em too but boxing had the sweeter song.”

Jason grimaced and glanced over Ted’s bald head at the Brown family sitting not too far off. Stephanie, her face sweet and cherubic, blond hair shrouded beneath a beanie and a purple scarf to fight off the cold was paying far too much attention to him than the game. He didn’t flatter himself into thinking she was interested in him for his good looks. He’d been at this long enough to know she was looking for any clue as to Redbird’s true identity.

The crowd cheered as the Shark’s quarterback found himself sacked on the third down.

His pocket vibrated. He pulled his red hood even tighter and cursed. Arthur wasn’t even trying to keep this a secret. If he was then he’d have got his family and Ted seats so that they wouldn’t have to see each other at all… That way if something bad happened, which his pocket vibrating signaled that it had, Artie’s damn daughter wouldn’t get suspicious.

For once in his life, Jason regretted his actions. If he hadn’t humiliated that Donald Trump wannabe then maybe he could have spent this gloriously freezing evening in the warm and unwelcoming company of the Kane family.

Jason leaned in close to Ted, “Gotta pee.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ted waved him off, “Try not to get a concussion again.”

Try to have some tact, old man. Jason refused to meet Stephanie’s eyes as he sidled his way towards the stairs. He could only pray it wouldn’t be something big enough to make the news.

The second half was nearly over. Mitchell had been enjoying the game, if not the company, so far. The tension before kickoff had never quite died. Unfriendly rivals indeed. And he thought he had problems with his councilmen up in Metropolis. At least there, he didn’t have to worry about the competition paying someone off to kill his dog because he offended them. Not that he had a dog to kill.

The owner’s box was over half full. Mostly full of ‘Haven politicians. It became clear to him quite early on where the line had been drawn in the sand. Elliot had a majority of the support, more hanger-ons than March by virtue of blood and experience. March, on the other hand, drew his companions from those displeased with the current mayor. Unfortunately for Elliot, some of them were big names.

Mitchell sipped at his drink and watched the clock tick down the seconds. It’d be over soon and then he’d have to feign interest in the people instead of rooting for his hometeam again. Or that’s what he thought.

The door to the box burst open with a loud crash and four very large men entered. Correction, Mitchell made after looking at them… Four, very large masculine figures. All clad in white from head to toe, the four each having their own symbol of a heart, club, spade, and a diamond over their hearts and an A’s on their faces.

The Royal Flush Gang.

The Great Machine was mildly disappointed. No matter the Deck, which given the fact he saw every suit represented, it had to be an entire Deck, they should have known better than to send these things against him. It wasn’t even going to be a fight.

Ace Androids.

He had only one word for them.

”Deactivate.”

Valentine’s Day may be a week off but Jason was sure as hell enjoying breaking a few hearts today. Five of them in fact. It hadn’t taken him as long as he thought it would to find his prearranged destination to change into his Redbird persona. In reality, it had taken longer for his hair to dry in the cold air that now bit at his ears than it had to suit up. And it was still drying to black as he bashed a couple of skulls in.

Royal Flush Gang. He was up against the Six through Ten of Hearts as they tried to use the attention the last minutes of the Superbowl would bring to their advantage to… to do he didn’t know quite what exactly. The alert said they were here. They were moving around. It didn’t say why.

He flipped over Seven and tripped Six. His momentum carried him forward to slam feet first into the chest of Nine only to rebound off him and smash Eight’s head into concrete. The fluid motion techniques that Richard had been teaching him were paying off. Keep moving and let the chaos distract your foes. That simple. If only the Ten of Hearts would stop shooting at him. Now that the lackeys had been taken care of, he offered a bright red target to her.

Redbird grappled up to a support on the ceiling as bullets ricocheted around him. They were up here where the rich got extremely bad seats at the cost of warmth and comfort. So if he had to guess, the Gang was probably intending to take their money. A ballsy move if he had to say so himself. They didn’t have to just worry about the added security of the Superbowl and the rumors of the Batwoman and Redbird duo, they had to worry about the Great Machine being in attendance. With Metropolis looking to take home yet another championship, their mayor wouldn’t be far behind.

It looked like security had been take care of before Jason had got on scene. It was all quiet on the scenic front, clear view from the waist up but littered with bodies on the floor. However the RFG hadn’t made their move just yet. Felt like a distraction. That meant his first theory had to be wrong. They were after something specific. Something important.

He swung around the rafters and threw a set of electrified batarangs at Ten hoping that even if she used her shield to block them, the metal would not be her friend. Jason knew what he was up against. Tens were the best combatants or best whatever for what a Suit was designed in mind for. So even though he took down the other four in an instant, she’d put up one hell of a fight.

A bullet just barely grazed his shoulder as he swung down with his grapple line intending to kick her into next week only to find her sprawled on the ground next to her comrades and two figures standing over. Jason landed in a crouch, eyes narrowing beneath his mask. One was a man just above average height with fiery red hair hidden beneath a Comet’s cap and possessing a fighter’s build. The other was a pretty girl slightly older than him hiding behind the man. Both wore Star City jerseys.

He felt like he should recognize the girl. He also felt that he should probably thank the man for the save since if appearances were to be believed, he’d used the hard end of a fire extinguisher in his hands to do what Jason could not… take the Ten of Hearts down. Instead, he sulked. That had been his fight.

“You look ridiculous in that hat,” he told his savior.

The man remained standing protectively in front of his ward. “Says the boy in brightly colored tights.”

“Brightly colored armored flexsuit,” corrected Jason. “Besides, at least I have a mask to hide my identity. You? Take off that hat and you’ll still look ridiculous with those elephant ears.”

Jason gave them a two fingered salute before turning to search for more of the Gang. “You might want to go before they wake up.”

His footsteps echoed down the empty tunnel as he dashed off. He had an idea about the target the RFG had in mind.

”Redbird… Owner’s box. Now!” came the voice from his omni-watch on his wrist.

And so, it seemed, did Kate.

The Ace Androids sagged in deactivation. Too easy. Yet before the people could cheer for their savior, the giant metal beings stood back up straighter than ever.

“I said deactivate,” Mitchell repeated, motioning for everyone to get back.

Once again they shut down only to turn back on a moment later. Subroutines. Something. These ones had been designed to face him. To take up his attention. Well, instead of wasting time he’d just have them turn themselves off the hard way. “Punch through each others’ he— Everyone, down, now!”

Mitchell should have thought about it more. Yes, they’d been designed to face him which meant any command he gave would be a bad one. Whichever King had orchestrated this event would have made damn sure of that. That left only one option for the King to take. Sacrifice his pawns.

As Mitchell suited action to words, the crash of glass sounded from behind him and he heard the flurry of a cape fluttering in the wind while the world turned to fire. Just as he predicted, the Ace Androids self-destructed and he felt nothing. Neither heat nor debris hit him. A figure in red and yellow crouched above him, shielding him with a cape. Certainly wasn’t anyone he’d ever met before. It was a kid.

His ears were ringing but he still had it him to take command of the situation. He pushed away his savior’s help up as he looked at a scene that wasn’t as bad as he expected it to be. For an assassination attempt, if that’s what it was, they hadn’t possessed nearly enough explosives. Barely the fine furniture had been burned. The carpet was scorched and he found a mechanical head laying not two feet away from him, sparking.

Misdirection. That’s what it had been. A distraction.

Mitchell didn’t bother to ask if everyone was okay. He looked around the room as his companions started to rise. “Who’s missing?”

There was muttering among them and the mayor of Metropolis watched as Batwoman – she, he knew from reports – crouched among the wreckage while her partner remained beside him.

“March,” croaked Elliot through the smoke, “Lincoln’s gone.”

With the glass behind him now shattered, he clearly heard the screams of happiness and curses of defeat as the game announcers reported that ”Star City wins, Star City wins.” This had all involved incredible timing on the part of the Royal Flush Gang to end as it did… To make sure they could get away with their prize just as the crowds would come.

“What’s that?” he asked as Batwoman finally stood, her face more ghostlike than even her makeup could make it.

“A calling card,” she held up a playing card that looked exactly like any other except dyed completely red. On it, he saw the face of the joker. “A wild card.”

Mitchell glanced down at the boy at his side hoping for a clearer answer. He simply shrugged his shoulders. What had this been all about?

It took some time for Jason and Kate to meet back up after they vanished before the first responders could arrive. Both had their respective identities to protect and actions to take. Jason was pissed that they had been played for fools. He was also pissed that he lost his bet – somehow, in the final quarter, the Comets had found the energy to fight back and win with a field goal in the last seconds. But most of all… he was pissed that the only thing he found in The Great Machine’s wallet was a picture of a much younger Mitchell Hundred and a man with whitish-blond hair.

What kind of man didn’t carry around at least some cash?

One that could speak to the ATM he supposed. As for everything else missing in it… he’d just have to hope the picture would be enough for Cluemaster as more payment.

“What was that?” Kate asked as he slipped the wallet into one of his pouches.

The two were a couple blocks from the stadium now, atop a roof that overlooked the bay area. “Nothing. What did you mean about a wild card? Is it some big-timer in the RFG?”

“Worse,” Kate’s face was more a mask than her actual mask. “The Red Hood is back. The card is part of his gimmick… his parlor tricks. I don’t know how he got the Royal Flush Gang to act on his behalf but the misdirects are definitely his signature.”

“What are we going to do about March?”

“I don’t know.”

Jason shivered into his cape, partly from the cold… partly because he could feel Kate’s anger and terror wash over him. And finally… partly because he honestly looked forward to meeting this Red Hood.

Kane Seaside Castle Casino and Resort,
Blüdhaven

With a stretch and a swagger, the lithe form of Renee yawned her way into the kitchen. Never in her life would she ever be accused of strutting. It was definitely a swagger. A remarkable feat considering she only had a Haven Brawlers’ jersey on, granting Kate more than fair glimpse at her olive skinned legs. It brought a smile to Kate’s cheeks. After one long evening of wine, she had tried to teach Renee the art of the strut, the finesse behind it… The pop. Renee failed miserably and the night turned into something along the lines of a giggling contest.

“Poptarts?” she asked as her mouth struggled to close. “Just my luck… The one billionaire heiress in all of Jersey to look my way is too cheap to get a cook or order room service for a decent breakfast.”

“You complained about the food in my Family’s box last night and now this?” Kate leaned into Renee as she wrapped her arms around her from behind. “There’s just no pleasing that ferocious appetite of yours.”

“That’s not the kind of food you eat while watching football,” she planted a kiss on the side of Kate’s jaw before continuing that swagger towards the kitchen table. “I did enjoy meeting your sister though. I can’t believe you’re twins. You two are nothing alike.”

Kate’s smiled faltered for an instant as she remembered yesterday and she was happy that Renee was in no position to see the reaction. It wasn’t the company that ruined it. Wasn’t even the game despite her preference towards the true interpretation of football. It was the memory that in the wake of it all… she had been reminded that her uncle’s – her mentor’s – murderer still walked free. And she had been powerless, incapable, to bring the bastard to justice in the intervening years.

That damn Red Hood. Kate had fought more than a few imposters to the throne since he had vanished off the grid and she knew it was the same man. All smoke and mirrors. No other had quite the same… signature.

Putting her mask properly in place, Kate twisted and leaned against the counter as she waited for the poptarts to pop. If not for Renee, she’d have been out there, searching for the man. No, not March… March was a douchebag. She’d rescue him because it was her duty. The Red Hood, however, was personal. So the pair had returned to Kate’s penthouse and made the best of their brief time together instead. Returned to their place of solace in this corrupt city and its fancy furniture and beautiful kitchen that Kate rarely used when company was over. She wasn’t quite at the place in their relationship to admit to Renee that she was less than perfect and her cooking was Spartan at best.

“I could order room service,” Kate crossed her legs and made sure her smile was completely innocent, “but that would require one of us to put on a pair of pants.”

“I’d accept a robe as a substitute.”

Before Kate could offer up a retort, two things happened at once. The toaster finished heating up its strawberry delight. And Renee’s phone rang from the other room. With a sigh, the Detective went to answer while Kate waited for their meager breakfast to cool enough to put on a paper towel. She had settled into the kitchen table’s seat and taken a few bites by the time Renee returned.

Kate frowned in disappointment.

Renee was in the process of getting dressed. She’d already changed shirts and tossed her pants over her chair as she finished buttoning it up. Her work face was on. Her lips had thinned into a line and looked like she was always one second away from breaking a perp’s fingers.

“What happened?” This was wrong… Renee was supposed to have the day off. She didn’t have to return to Gotham until tonight.

“AMBER alert’s been issued,” her tone was steel. Child abduction cases were the worst and Gotham tended take them more serious than most. Which was saying something. “My team’s been reassigned to it.”

“Who’s missing?”

“Langstrom… An Aaron Langstrom. Poor kid’s d –”

“Deaf.”

“Yeah… How’d you –“

The poptart crumbled in Kate’s fingers. Her face lost all color. She lost all sense for an instant and it wasn’t until Renee had grabbed her by the arm that she realized she had stood up and started on a warpath.

“Katie, what’s going on with you?”

She let the crumbs fall from her fingers. “He’s my baby cousin.”

Renee watched Kate go and knew there was nothing she could do to stop her. It was what she loved about the woman, her sheer stubbornness. But she could help. She’d make sure they found the boy safe and sound.

They had to.