Post by tec271939 on May 29, 2016 13:22:06 GMT -5
Speed Force Issue #3: The Power of Shadows
“Who helped you?!” Barry screams, pounding his fist against the cold table sitting alone in the interrogation room, sweat rolling down his face as he stares into the unwavering eyes of Sheila Covere.
“Who helped me do what?” Sheila challengers Barry, never wavering eye contact.
“Rob. The. Bank.”
“My bank?”
“Yes, your bank.”
“No one helped me rob it.”
“So you admit you robbed it.”
“No, but there is no way someone helped me rob it if I didn’t rob it. See how that works?”
“We have evidence.”
“Oh yeah, what?”
“Eye witnesses.”
“Who?”
“Can’t say, that could put ‘em in danger.” Barry rolls away from the table and turns his back on her, looking out the darkened one-way window.
“All the employees left. Like every other night.”
“What happened to the cameras?”
“I assume the Flash.”
“Who broke the window?”
“The Flash.”
“So you’re blaming this on the Flash?”
“Definitely.”
“Did you see him rob the bank?”
“Nope, I was on my way out.”
“When were you on your way out?”
“When the bank was robbed.”
“How do you know what time the bank was robbed?”
“Because I’m the bank president.”
“And so you know everything?”
“Everything there is to know.”
“Like who robbed the bank?”
“Except that.”
“How convenient.”
“I must agree.” Sheila reaches across the table for her water bottle and takes a long drink. “Anything else, Detective Allen?” Barry turns to glare at Sheila and then, without a word, leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. Outside is a musty hallway, mostly dark, with only Hunter standing in it.
“Not going so well?” Hunter asks, his eyes still glued to the woman.
“I need something on her. I need something to corner her.”
“Tell her we found the money.”
“She’s smart. She’s going to want to know where we found the money.” Barry paces back and forth, his eyes tracing his steps on the ground.
“Well let’s think, where would you hide the money if you were her?”
“Certainly not my house.”
“Somewhere at the bank?”
“We’ve covered it from head to toe.”
“Did you ask her about the two guys she was being attacked by?”
“She just told me they mugged her and took her purse.”
“They were obviously a little more than that.” Hunter turns and puts his hand on Barry’s shoulder. “What were you saying about your man in the mirror?” Barry looks up at Hunter, quizzical and confused.
“I thought you didn’t believe me?”
“It isn’t that I don’t believe you, it’s that the idea is just too crazy.”
“We are a task force dedicated to catching a super-fast superhero. Crazier than that?”
“A little. You said he was just in the mirror?”
“Yeah. Just right there, like he lived there or something.”
“I know this is crazy, but there was a case in Hub City about three years back and the rumors were they thought it was a man who could travel through reflective surfaces.”
“How did they come up with that theory?”
“A couple cops said they saw him go through a mirror and out another.”
“Okay, so what are you thinking?”
“The man in the mirror and the two muggers must be working together, that’s how they disappeared into the ice. Solid ice is generally reflective.”
“Okay, so if they were working together what was the greater plan?” Barry reaches for the water bottles generally on the desk stuffed in the back, but he comes up empty handed.
“I drink water like an elephant.” Hunter shrugs his shoulders and Barry shakes his head. “Anyway, Detectives West and Mercer said he was carrying a bag or a purse, probably Sheila’s.”
“And so you think it was something in there?”
“I’m guessing whatever was in there had something to do with the cash and they someone figured it out.” Barry suddenly stops pacing and looks through the window at Sheila, sitting there with a little grin on her face.
“Did we find her keys on her?”
“No, we didn’t.”
“Storage unit.” Barry mutters as he briskly walks to the door, throwing it open and rushing up to Sheila with a wide smile on his face.
“Figure something out, Detective?”
“We found the money.” Barry says, taking a seat and pulling together his notepad and pen. Sheila remains unflinching.
“Oh, really? Where was it?” She asks, her grin still present, her body unwavering.
“A storage unit.” Her grin dips a little and her nostrils flair, but no other noticeable changes affect her demeanor.
“I don’t have any storage units. You’re wasting my time.”
“It’s registered to your late father.” And with that Sheila’s eyes widen in shock before thinning in anger, glaring at Barry with the corners of her mouth curled up as Barry just sits there, a smile plastered across his face.
“How was work?” Eddy’s voice rings out low, trying to keep quiet surrounded by a dozen other couples at the Park of Princes restaurant in downtown Keystone City.
“Hectic.” Iris sits straight in her chair, a white blazer thrown over her pink blouse and matching white slacks. “Yours?”
“Just the normal. What story are you working on now?”
“I don’t think you really wanna know, it’s pretty boring stuff.”
“Try me.” Iris takes a sip of her glass of red wine and picks up the menu.
“The chicken or the sirloin?” She looks up at Eddy with that same toothy grin on her face.
“Honestly, I think you’d like the Penne Rosa.” She looks back down at the menu, apparently not having noticed her favorite pasta before, and she looks back up, that toothy grin turned into a full-on smile.
“How’d you know?”
“I’m a detective, it’s what I do.” Eddy says with a shrug of his shoulders.
“You really know how to impress a lady, don’t you?” Eddy leans back and takes a sip of his own wine, sweet and white.
“Absolutely not. I’m like a lost puppy when it comes to women.” They both share a laugh before the waiter comes over.
“Do you two know what you would like?”
“Penne Rosa. For both of us.” The waiter quickly writes it down, takes the menu and disappears with a nod.
“I love it when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Or for both of us. Makes my life so much easier.”
“I know how to treat a lady.”
“Do you though?” Iris asks, nonchalantly brushing a spot on her ring finger. The motion goes totally unnoticed.
“So, what story are you working on?”
“Tell me about your case.” Eddy’s lifts an eyebrow, but doesn’t ask more questions.
“Alright, well we think we caught the woman who robbed the bank,”
“What evidence do you have?”
“None, a pair of fake cops stole her purse and any evidence she might’ve had on her.”
“Was it the bank president?” Eddy stops mid drink and sets his glass down.
“How did you know that’s who we were going after?”
“All the evidence pointed to her and her accomplice.”
“Why do you think there was an accomplice?”
“How else would she have moved the money?”
“Fair enough. Who do you think the accomplice was?”
“Not a clue. By the sounds of it, the two fake cops.”
“Yeah, Barry seems to think it’s the Flash that was helping her.”
“Doesn’t he know the Flash is the good guy?”
“He has no idea. And now he’s talking about a Scottish man in a mirror that told him where Sheila would be. I think he’s losing it.”
“He needs a woman to take him out of this funk. I bet he’s on this case twenty-four seven, isn’t he?”
“Pretty much. Sometimes he stops to eat. I think his desk chair might secretly be a toilet.” The two laugh again before silence befalls them, leaving the two sipping at their glasses of wine.
“So what’s your story? You’ve been dodging it all night.” Suddenly, before Iris can say anything else, Eddy’s phone starts ringing. “Speak of the devil.”
“Tell him we’re dating yet?” Eddy gives her a sideways glare, stands up and walks away from the table. Iris watches as he talks on the phone, no real reaction, but she’s able to read a word off his lips: “Rogues.” Eddy hangs up the phone and quickly rushes back to the table.
“Baby, I’m so sorry but—“
“If she’s talking, go. Solve this case so Barry can use a real toilet.” Eddy leans over and gives her a kiss before turning to dash out the door. “Forgetting something?” Eddy turns back around with a quizzical look. “You invited me out. That means you pay.” Eddy lets out a sigh and waves it off.
“I know the owner, it’s covered.” Without another word, Eddy rushes off into the night and that little toothy grin comes back.
“What is it, Cold?” Cap asks, sitting on the couch across from Cold, their bodies contorted to look at the red stone sitting on the table in the middle.
“You think this was in the bank vault?”
“I don’t see why it would be.” Like two pyramids laid at each other’s bases, the red stone radiates a vibrant color and energy, a strange yellow tent radiating from within it.
“It reminds me of the Flash.”
“Where the hell did you two get the thing?” Mirror Master calls from the kitchen, filling his glass with some fine whiskey.
“It was in Covere’s purse.” Cold reaches out for the stone, but the closer he gets to it the more heat he feels, getting closer and closer until finally it burns his skin. “Damn!”
“Where’s Heat Wave when you need him?” Cap looks around and throws his feet up on the empty couch.
“He went to go pay his rent or something.” Mirror Master takes a seat in the small plush chair at the head of the table. “What are we gonna do about it?”
“Figure out what she wanted with it.”
“You think she robbed the vault?”
“No,” Cap chimes in, taking a sip of his own scotch. “She was talking to a man on the phone before we got her. I think she’s just working for someone bigger. Maybe it was a trade—the stone for the money.”
“None of my research would’ve suggested anything like that. She’s always been hungrier for power than money.”
“Well, who could’ve gotten to her?”
“Someone who knows her.” Cold waves his hand over the object again, then attempts to shoot a wave of ice at the stone only to watch it melt and trickle down into the puddle surrounding the stone. “But no one should know her better than me.”
“I guess we’re just going to have to ask, aren’t we?” Mirror Master stands and crosses into the restroom while Cold stares at the stone and Cap sips at his scotch. Silence crowds the room like a big brother trying to kick you off the couch as Cold sits, thinking of any way to find the person Covere was talking to.
“Holy shit.” Cold mutters under his breath, Cap turning his eye to the boss to see what’s happening.
“Whatcha got, mate?”
“Where’s the purse?” Cap just shrugs his shoulders as Cold stands up, looking for the purse. “WHERE’S THE PURSE?!” He screams, turning every piece of furniture over in his pursuit. Cold runs around the apartment, but can’t find it. He stops to think, and then races into the bathroom, kicking the door of its hinges to find nothing—not a trace of usage, not a trace of the purse, not a trace of Mirror Master.
“We found all the money, Sheila. Every last penny.” Barry says as he paces around the room, his eyes unfocused on Sheila Covere. “So who put you up to this?”
“Someone set me up.”
“Your fingerprints are on the money. There is video surveillance of you entering that storage unit between the robbery and now. Any group of twelve men will find you guilty in an instant.” Barry stops pacing and pulls up a chair opposite Sheila. “We know you weren’t behind all of this. If you tell us who is, I’ll talk to the DA and cut you a deal.” The two sit in silence as Barry stares at Sheila who stares at her balled-up hands on the table. “Sheila—“
“I didn’t want to do it.”
“Didn’t want to do what?”
“I didn’t want to help him. But he threatened to destroy the whole bank—physically and financially. If I didn’t help him, I was done with.”
“Okay, let’s start with who he is.”
“He always just called himself Shadow. I never got more than that.” Barry writes that down on a small notepad to his left.
“And so what was the plan?”
“He knew that someone was going to rob the bank that night.”
“How did he know?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.” Barry jots a couple more details down. “He said it would be an easy cover up. Either the Flash or the thieves would be blamed. I cut the cameras out and moved all of the money from the safe through the old money chutes that would transfer information from bank-to-bank in the forties and fifties. He took care of stashing the money in the storage unit.”
“So you didn’t want the money?” Sheila shakes her head, tears rolling down from her eyes. “Then why did he put it in the storage unit?”
“Added incentive for me to keep helping him.”
“What else did he want?”
“A stone my father has kept for years. My father called in the Gem of Nike, the Greek God of speed.”
“And this Shadow man wanted the gem?”
“Yes. He said if I gave him the gem, the money would be deposited back to the bank and he would leave me forever.”
“Did you give him the gem?”
“I was on my way when you arrested me.”
“So where is the gem now?”
“My purse. Those two brutes who attacked me took it from me.” Barry stands again and walks out the door, slamming it and moving into the hallway.
“Who the hell were those two guys that attacked her?!” Barry screams into the small, echoing corridor as Hunter stands still with his arms crossed and Eddy, just arriving, is wide-eyed and frightened. “Who were they?!”
“Barry, calm down.” Hunter places his on Barry’s shoulder and Barry takes a deep breath, his nostrils stop flaring and his breaths become less erratic. “You already knew there were two fake officers interrogating Covere before she was attacked. It has to be them.”
“That doesn’t help much, does it?”
“Not really, but it’s something. She confessed, so we can hold her for as long as we want. Go home and get some rest, Eddy and I will take it from here.” Without a word, Barry storms from the corridor, leaving Hunter and Eddy in silence. “Who do you think did it?”
Iris creeps steadily around the hallway corner, her eyes trained on the large door separating her from the penthouse apartment located at 1833 E 29th Street. She’s been watching this place for hours, watching bodies come and go, hearing screams and shouts. It’s been thirty-two minutes since the last time she saw someone in the window. Now is her time. She slinks up to the door pulling a bobby pin from her hair and easily picking the simple lock on the front door. She stands silent for a moment, listening for any movement, prepared to bolt and the slightest sound. One minute goes by. Nothing. Another weaves away. Still nothing. Finally, she works up the courage to push the door slightly open and look into the expansive penthouse. Seeing no movement, she eases her was in.
At least two-thousand square-feet, the pent house counters are covered in granite and the furniture is all leather. A glass coffee table sits in the living room in between two large sofas and in front of a small leather recliner. On that glass coffee table sits a gemstone, red in color with an odd aura around it. Iris pulls out a small camera with only a lens and a button, pointing it at the gemstone and clicking it to take a picture as she creeps steadily closer. She reaches her hand out for it, beginning to feel an intense heat.
“You should stop there.” The intense heat is replaced with a freezing cold as Iris feels her feet frozen to the ground, the ice cold feeling trickling up into her body. She turns her head right to see a man in a blue hoodie with a blue sunglasses covering his eyes, his ice-blue hand outstretched, pointed Iris’s feet.
“W-who the hell are you?”
“I’m fuckin’ Citizen Cold. Who the hell are?”
“I-I’m just here for a friend.”
“Who’s your friend then?” Cold marches up to her, sticking his hand into her jeans’ pocket, pulling out a small wallet with just two IDs and some cards. “Classic mistake, miss. Never bring a wallet when you’re breaking into someone’s house.” Cold pulls one of the IDs out of the wallet and studies it for a moment. “Iris West. Are you here for Wally? Or are you here for Mirror Master? Which friend send you?” Cold throws the wallet on the ground, barring his teeth and getting closer to Iris’s face. “Well, Ms. West?”
“I-I’m here for Wally.” Cold backs away, turning around and looking over his apartment in detail.
“So the police are on to me then?”
“No.”
“Then why did an officer send you?”
“I don’t really know.” Cold turns quickly around, lashing another spray of ice at her, covering her shoulders and the back of her neck.
“They say your feet and your head are the focal points of where heat enters and exits the body. I’ve already got your feet covered, and I have no problem working my way up to your head, Ms. West. If you tell me the truth, you can leave unharmed.”
“She can leave unharmed anyway.” Cold turns to see the striking red figure of the Flash standing in his doorway, lightning circling his body in waves.
“If it isn’t Mr. Hero himself. Come to save the day?”
“I guess I don’t have a choice.” Cold immediately uses both of his hands, spraying ice all around him and Iris, creating a cocoon of impenetrable ice.
“Come and get me, Flash.” Suddenly the Flash disappears, reappearing on the other side of the cocoon, delivering a ground shaking punch before disappearing to a different angle, delivering the same blow. Punch after punch after punch the ice begins to crack along with Cold’s demeanor. “I fuckin’ hate all of you.” Suddenly, from across the room, a bullet is fire, just barely missing the Flash and slashing through the ice like a shadow through the night. “Cap?” No answer, no more punches, no gunshots.
“What’s going on?” Iris asks, slowly rotating her foot against the melting ice.
“If I knew, I’d let ya in on the secret.” Two more gunshots fire through the top of the ice shattering the heart of the cocoon. “Who the fuck is out there?!” The Flash appears from the top of the cocoon, grabbing Iris and yanking her free from the ice and traveling to the other side of the room. Cold breaks down the ice barrier slowly, at first seeing nothing but the lightning waving around the Flash, until across the room, shrouded in shadows, stands a man, only his white eyes showing. “Show yourself ya cowered.”
“I am showing myself, Leo.” His voice echoes as if he were speaking through surround sound. Cold takes a step back, his hand radiating blue, preparing to take a shot at the man.
“How do you know my name?”
“That same way you know mine.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’ve gone by many names.”
“Could you be more cryptic?”
“No.” Cold’s lips turn into a slight smile, his eyes thinning, his heart thumping. His mind races back to the bible, every plan he had ever drawn out, flipping the pages, doing the research. All Covere cared about was the success of the bank—she would give up anything to make sure the bank stayed strong, even a priceless heirloom. And only one person knew her so deeply as to know her father’s obsession with collecting gemstones and her own hunger for success—
“Carl?”
“That name doesn’t fit me anymore. I am but shadow of my former self.”
“How did you survive?”
“It matters not. Mirror Master and Sheila Covere have failed me. I must save myself.”
“Save yourself from what?”
“From this form.”
“Let me know what you’re talking about, Carl. We can work this out. I can help you.”
“If you want to help me, give me the gem.”
“Why?”
“I need it. If I ever want my face again, I need that gem.”
“Who are you working for, Carl?”
“I work for no one but myself.”
“Who wants the gem, jackass?”
“I do.”
“You’ve always been difficult, haven’t you?”
“And you’ve always been weak. The Rogues deserved better.”
“Tell me how you really feel.”
“If you insist—you’re under arrest!” Barry screams from the open door, his gun drawn pointing not at Cold, but instead at the Flash.
“You again?” Cold blurts out, his eyes staying trained on Carl.
“I’m assuming you’re the one behind the bank robbery?” Barry directs at Carl.
“I am merely trying to restore order to myself.”
“By robbing a bank?”
“I do not have time for you.” Carl focuses his hand at Barry and with a loud bank shoots a shadow bullet at the cop, who barely manages to dodge it, dropping to the ground and firing his own shots that travel straight through Carl. Carl leaps forward, his arms elongating, wrapping around Cold and reaching past him, grabbing the gemstone off the table and leaping over the couch next to the window. Cold unleashes a wave of ice at his friend, only to watch it pass straight through him and break open the window. The Flash grabs Iris and, in a flurry of lightning, disappears once again. Barry fires two more rounds through the thief and out the open window.
“What the fuck are you?!”
“I am a shadow.” Dropping out the window, Carl Sands disappears into the night. Cold turns around and looks at Barry, their eyes connecting for just a moment. Barry raises his gun and points it in the face of the villain.
“What do you know about the Flash?”
“Everything that just happened, and that’s what you’re focused on?”
“I won’t ask again.”
“I think he knows Iris.” Barry lowers his gun, nodding at the information and walking away.
“This isn’t it.”