ALEXiThymiA: Interlude IV : Warder / Polyglot

Interlude IV

Warder / Polyglot

Warder stood outside the room. Being this close made his skin crawl, there was something wrong about all of this. Too many factors didn’t make sense.

First, why would Alexa, or the healer Aru’ka, call poppycock once the coast was clear. That wasn’t supposed to be how the word was used. She knew that, his little girl was far too smart to make a rookie mistake like that. When a Super did that, first it burned the safe word. But secondly, it burned cohesion of a group. Such actions made it seem like the Super would cry wolf once the coast was clear. None of those things were what Alexa was.

Second, why did this man who happened to also travel from the UK have a heart attack, after the fight with the necromancer.

Fortunately for Warder, Polyglot also had much the same concerns about this man. As the two found themselves standing guard by the door.

“You warded this door, right?” Warder asked.

“Does a rooster crow in the morning?” Polyglot replied.

“Stupid question.”

“No, no it’s not. If I was in your shoes, I would ask the same exact questions.” Polyglot said, a comforting smile filling under his mask.

With that Warder gave a slight smile. He liked this man. If he was younger, he might have even thought about letting him tag along.

Polyglot was part of the newer breed of heroes, ones whose mask had protective eye covers that protected against smoke, fog, and other corrosive materials. It also made it so Polyglot could scan an area multiple times, while not drawing suspicion. Meanwhile Warder, had to use his other senses to not draw the alarm of the nursing staff.

Chirp.

Warder clipped on the open communicator.

“Judge we need you outside of 308.” Warder began.

“I’m a little busy at the moment.” Judge hissed back.

Static.

End transmission.

Hearing that Warder nodded to himself. Of course, his wife would choose now to be overly protective of her daughter. There was a half dozen of the Prime Minister’s Super detail on staff, along with Ms. Peacock, Fuego III and Void II, but she had to be there for her daughter.

“Hey, I have a question for you?” Polyglot asked.

Warder turned his attention back to the young super who was here as part of a PR trip with Redline.

“Go on.” Warder said, as it was clear Polyglot was waiting for acknowledgment.

With that Polyglot nodded, then asked a question that had clearly been on his mind. “That girl, that Healer, Aru’ka, do you by chance know if she is a legacy?”

This was perhaps the most tactful way that one super could ask their familial relationship with another.

Now there were many ways that Warder, could handle this. He could deny outright, which would cause suspicion. Particularly with the way he and Judge had been chosen to be the personal guards of Aru’ka, while it would make more sense to have the still active supers be her guards. Despite the fact that their skills leaned more towards detection and mitigations, than actual defense like Judge and Warder.

There was also the fact that Warder could go the extreme other way and confirm this statement. All but admitting that he was either the parent of, or direct familial relation to Aru’ka.

Instead, Warder decided to answer the question in the middle. “With powers like hers, it is a good bet that she is a legacy. Especially if Judge and I were asked personally to come.”

“Personally?”

Not a lie, as both had been personally asked to attend by TSI Captain Johnston, apparently, she thought something odd would go down.

“Personally.”

With that, Polyglot nodded as this changed a few of his assumptions.

“Can I ask who made the request?”

“TSI Captain Johnston.”

At that Polyglot just nodded his head in understanding.

“Yeah, figures she would have her fingers in this somehow.” Polyglot said, apparently a bit of history between him and the Captain. History that Warder himself did not want to get involved with.

Clip-clap.

Then as if their very words had summoned the devil herself from her slumber, she appeared.

The TSI captain was in a fit of righteous fury as she strode forward. Followed closely by both Bullford and Fletcher, her two lieutenants.

With the three of them approaching, and their backs against a room that now screamed of malevolence, Warder didn’t know which one he feared more.

Even now, it was clear the captain was already angry, as smoke began seeping out of her lungs.

“Ms. I must warn you that you cannot vape in here.” A nurse called out.

At that, Captain Johnston stopped, followed in lock step by her entourage. Then she turned to face the nurse.

“I’m sorry. Does it look like I am vaping to you?” Captain Johnston said, as her eyes began to glow brighter while she held up her empty hands for display.

Still, this little look caused the nurse in question to pause immediately.

Silence.

“Well!”

“No, I must be mistaking.” The nurse said, fear evident in her voice as she saw yet more smoke come from the irate Captain.

With that Captain Johnston nodded, then continued forward.

As soon as she took a step away, the nurse let out a breath of relief.

With that outburst, Warder felt a little more confident in his stance.

“This the man?” Johnston asked.

“We believe so. This man is from the UK, traveled in within the week. No known major ailments, nor family members who are sick, yet he paid a premium price to be here. Then he collapsed of an alleged heart attack right after the cleansing.” Warder said, giving a brief as succinct as possible.

“Countermeasures?” Johnston said, turning her laser focus on Polyglot.

At the sudden intense stare, Polyglot felt himself faltering for a moment before he managed to recover.

“Defensive runes against Necromancy on the door, the walls and the floor out here. Nothing should be able to leave the room.” Polyglot answered.

“What about the window?”

“The window?” Polyglot asked. Then turned to look at the small pane of glass on the door that allowed doctors and nurses to look in on the patient.

“Not that window, moron. The giant window inside all hospital rooms. The ones that are put there so people can dream of getting out. The same one monsters can use as an escape path.” Johnston said.

At that Polyglot just flinched as he clearly didn’t even think of entering the room to secure it.

“Stop. You’re coming with me. In fact, you both are coming with me. You start warding the windows and external walls.” Johnston said, pointing to Polyglot.

“You,” Johnston said, pointing her finger at Warder. “You get in close and try to see if you can get within grabbing distance of the man. I will hold his attention. We do not want this to go sideways, but if it does, the plans are you two to save the civilian staff, while we deal with the suspect.”

There was a pause as she made eye contact with both Warder and then Polyglot, before turning to lock gazes with her two lieutenants.

Seeing that there seemed to be no confusion, Johnston nodded.

“Good, form up on me.” Johnston said, then before anyone even had a chance to react, she was already at the door and marching her way in. Her short legs carrying her forward in strides that seemed to denote she was either sprinting, or much taller than she was.

Fortunately for the two Fletcher and Bullford were fast on her heels. This made it so Warder was the fourth to enter. Then with a reluctant sigh, Polyglot found himself entering the room last. Since he was last to enter, he felt it was only natural that he closes the door behind him.

A door that he then proceeded to put protective runes on from this side as well.

“Mr. Salman. We have a few questions regarding your recent activities.” Johnston said, her tone was cold enough to send shivers down Polyglot’s spine.

Polyglot liked the idea of being a Super, despite not having a skill set that was conducive to combat. This was why he generally chose the higher PR events, like saving children. As it was, he was on the TSI team as the team’s sole enchanter. Not an official title or role, but the field he now found himself mostly subject to.

At first, he thought the job would be glamorous, but by the hundredth time he had to recast the self-cleansing rune on the public set of toilets for TSI headquarters, Polyglot was ready for a change.

The only problem is that change was apparently caught on by Captain Johnston who rather than fighting the transfer request, endorsed it. While at the same time, giving him assignments like this one, where he could get his face out in the public.

Of course, this had all been a pragmatic approach by the Captain.

“Can I ask why you are doing this?” Polyglot found himself asking the Captain one day.

With that Johnston just shrugged, “of course, my job now is to treat you like a valuable trade piece. You know your worth, I know your worth, but these other people they don’t know your true worth. So, I get you these gigs, let you showcase your talent. Then my return investment will be a few prospects from the other divisions that have more talent.”

That was it, he was just a trading piece. A collectible to be traded away once something newer and brighter came along.

At first Polyglot was angry by the statement. But then Polyglot realized two things. First, he would get his transfer request, which meant he no longer had to deal with the Captain and her violent mood swings. The second, was that this was his chance to show his true value to a team before he got there.

It was with this second goal in mind, that he made sure to ward the windows in a layered effect. Then ward the walls and so on. Then once he was done, he set himself up to stand in the way of the suspect and the window. There with his arms crossed, he focused on pumping out as much of his internal reserves as possible to begin charging the runes that lay throughout the room.

Polyglot knew that while he was not a front-line fighter, he could still be useful to people on the front line. Particularly when the opponent was other magic users.

“I would like to execute my right to your fifth amendment.” The man said, as a smug look came over his face.

“That is fine. You do have the right to remain silent, in fact I would appreciate it, if you would. Now I’m going to show you something else we are known for here in the states.” Captain Johnston said.

With that, the man, Mr. Salman turned his head slightly to the side as he tried to understand what was happening.

Watching the Captain in action was truly something to behold. He held the man’s full gaze. The Captain was going toe-to-toe with a Necromancer and staring him down like he was nothing.

Badump, badump.

Polyglot’s heart raced as she saw the movement the rest of the team now executed. The way they seemed to take cues from her body language alone. Even Warder was in place, using this moment to get within inches of the Necromancer’s head.

“Just what else are you known for, aside from terrible food and television?” Salman asked.

At that Captain Johnston just chuckled. “Why good ol’ police brutality of course.”

There was a look of confusion that crossed the injured man’s face. He was still doing poorly, as the tell-tale signs of a heart attack were still evident on his body. Still, he turned to look at the motion on his right side. This was of course a bad move, as his face turned into a sledgehammer of a punch by Warder.

At that, Bullford and Fletcher both began tackling the man, who even disoriented began having black wisps of smoke coming up from his hands. Hands that were attached to arms, arms that were quickly broken by a powerful progenitor werewolf, and a powerful vampire.

“Mr. Salman, you are hereby under arrest for the suspicion of conducting Necromantic practices within the continental United States. You are hereby removed from any and all diplomatic protections and will be taken into custody immediately. Any and all attempts to resist this arrest will be met with extreme prejudice.” Captain Johnston called out.

Wham! Wham! Wham!

Polyglot looked on in horror as Warder, his hero, mercilessly struck the clearly incapacitated man again and again.

Then Polyglot watched as the group pulled no stops. “Handcuff and cuff his ankles as well.” Johnston said, clearly not letting the sickly man get a chance to recover.

Click, click.

The sound or two sets of cuffs getting ratcheted together could be heard.

Looking at this, Polyglot realized one thing, he was not cut out for front line fighting.

Looking at the trails of black smoke, the trails that the monster clearly had been trying to use as a defense were already eating away at the metal railings of the bed.

“Recording.” Johnston said.

There was an eerie silence for two minutes, all the while Polyglot looked around the room. Johnston’s eyes looked up at the clock on the wall, as did everyone else’s. Then once the little red second hand ticked its pace around the clock twice, Johnston nodded, then reached up and turned on her recorder.

“We have the Necromancy suspect Mr. Salman here in custody. As you can see there were attempts to use what appears to be necromantic magic to escape.” Johnston said, moving closer to the oily black residue that was still burning its way through the hospital bed.

“We are going to conduct a field test for necromantic residue.” Johnston said, calling out the procedures that each of her lieutenants conducted.

With that, Bullford pulled out a spray vial of what appeared to be clear liquid.

Sprits, sprits.

Two quick puffs of the liquid over the black slime. Then within seconds there was a sizzling sound as a trail of dense purple smoke rose.

“We have positive signs of Necromancy. Taking in samples for testing, to confirm initial field tests.”

With that both Bullford and Fletcher began carving away swaths of the black substance that were then put in magical containment pouches.

“As you can see, we have subdued the suspect. There was resistance, where we had to break his arms to protect ourselves and the hospital staff, while Warder performed an initial sealing treatment to prevent immediate uses of power by the suspect.”

Treatment? Polyglot thought, he punched an unconscious man twice.

“Polyglot will add runic wardings on the cuffs to ensure we can travel with the suspect safely to our detention facilities.” Johnston said.

With that, Polyglot realized what this was. He was being caught on camera; this would make his career. Being part of the team that took in a Necromancer. A necromancer that clearly targeted at least one victim, if not more. So why did Polyglot feel so terrible at the way he was apprehended. Clearly, had they let the man try to escape it would have been far worse. But he could not shake the feeling of how wrong everything was.

This was not police work, at least this was not the way he was told that police work would be handled.

Still, he had a job to do. To protect the country from people, no, from monsters like him.

So why did this all feel so wrong?

But against his better judgment, or maybe because of his better judgment he found himself mechanically moving forward and providing the suppression wards needed for the cuffs to make sure this necromancer couldn’t hurt anyone else on his way out.

Then with that, the group covered the necromancer with a blanket, to hide the clearly broken arms. While tucking in the arms enough to show the signs of the burning black slime from when he tried to escape.

Then they all marched in a line as they took the suspect out of the hospital, with cameras and lights flashing.

They were heroes.

“You found him!”

“That bastard was there in the crowd. He could have gotten me!” Someone shouted.

Hearing the voices of adulation, only seemed to heighten the tension Polyglot now felt.

After the main turn, Warder grabbed the shoulder of Polyglot.

Seeing the two stop, Johnston also paused, letting Fletcher and Bullford who had been maneuvering the subject to also stop.

“Thank you for your services today. The world truly is a safer place because of what you’ve done.” Captain Johnston said.

Polyglot nodded, not trusting his words to help him out of this one.

With that the three TSI agents and the suspect left, while Warder stayed with Polyglot in the empty corridor.

Polyglot wanted to move but found his legs holding still.

“Ask it.” Warder said.

Polyglot at first wanted to protest, to state that he didn’t have any questions, that he was fine. But he realized that would be a lie.

“How could you…?” That was all he could ask. Here he was, his idol, a hero to many. Someone he spent his whole life trying to emulate.

At that Warder just nodded in understanding. “There was a case, about eleven? Was it eleven? Wow, so long and yet it feels like it was only yesterday. The nightmares of that case still haunt me to this day.”

At this point Warder was just talking to himself, as if he couldn’t even look at Polyglot.

“I once had a chance to stop a monster. A true fiend. A recently turned vampire, at least that’s what we were told. So, I hit her once and she passed out. At least that was what we all thought. Well, I was wrong. That night the suspect broke free, because the restraints put in place were not at their maximum. I tried to hunt her down, but we ran out of time. Judge and I were drafted to go up north to help prevent the invasion. That’s when…” Warder trailed off, his words getting caught in his throat.

“You mean the matriarchal vampire killer?” Polyglot asked.

Warder nodded.

Polyglot of course remembered that case. That was the one where Judge and Warder broke the federal law to help their state defend against a threat. That was a huge moment for state governments, as it meant they could let their supers refuse federal mandates of service. This was also the case that made Polyglot want to be a state Super. He saw the photos, also his younger sister was one of the first victims of that monster.

Warder shook his head, as he used his tongue to wet his suddenly dry lips.

“You asked me about legacies earlier?” Warder asked.

Polyglot just nodded.

“What would you do, or rather how would you try to make amends for one failure. A failure that ended up costing twelve girls their lives and ruining the lives of seventeen others.” Warder said, as he finally turned to stare at Polyglot.

Tears were in his eyes, as the pain of the burden he carried was evident to be seen.

“We followed procedures to the letter of the law, but that wasn’t enough. At our retirement ceremony. Those seventeen girls that we saved, not one of them was there. Do you know why?”

Polyglot just shook his head.

“They are all damaged. To this day, seven committed suicide. A few are in mental wards, while others are trying their best to live as normal of a life as possible. Twenty-nine lives, and the lives of their families ruined, because I did the right thing.”

At that Polyglot nodded, as he watched his hero shed visible tears. Tears that flowed over the mask as his eyes showed the true horror that lay within this man’s soul from doing his job.

Polyglot opened his mouth to argue, but Warder just shook his head.

“Look, I’m not going to tell you how to do your job. Or what is right, that man was a monster. Plain and simple. He tortured little girls, I don’t know why, he likely had some reason for it, likely some form of anger against the Prime Minister. Regardless I don’t care. He was a monster, a monster who fed off the pain and suffering of others. My career is over. I don’t really care what happens to me. If you want to turn me in that’s fine. I will admit to everything and say I coerced Johnston into doing it. Sure, there will be public backlash from it, but I’m retired, this won’t affect me. But I want you to think long and hard about whether this is the road you want to walk down. This was a good thing we did today, the minute you realized you prevented twenty-nine or even a hundred other lives from suffering similar fates to that girl, is the day you truly know what it means to wear that suit.”

“I wasn’t…” Polyglot said.

Warder just shook his head. “I never said you were. I just saw the look of doubt in your eyes and wanted to share with you my words of wisdom. Take it from a person who must deal with their biggest regret every day for the rest of their lives. It never gets easier, but at least one way, you will be able to go to sleep knowing that you truly made the world a better place.”

With that Warder left.

Polyglot for his part just stood there staring at the back of his hero. A hero he suddenly found to be far more human than he first imagined.

Polyglot just stayed there for a few moments, while he tried to get his own thoughts in order.

Clump-clank.

The double doors opened, revealing a red blur coming through.

“There you are.” Redline said, as he got close. “Congratulations on the take down of that Necromancer, great work.”

“Yeah.” Polyglot replied.

“Now come on, we are going to do a photo op with the healer.” Reline said.

“Okay.” Polyglot said, as he followed his friend out of the empty hallway and back into the main area where cameras were recording everything.

Putting on a fake smile, Polyglot was thankful that he had chosen to wear a full three quarters mask. As he truly realized the lesson from his training program, the mask was more than just a way to protect his identity. The mask also helped him hide his true emotions.