Chapter 3: Recon
"These things are bound to happen," Arthur said.
He sat in his hovering wheelchair, hands clasped together. Blond hair neatly combed, dress shirt, tie, tweed vest, slacks, Oxfords, like an executive despite not being in an office. Instead, he was in a hidden basement that didn't appear on the blueprints of the hotel he purchased and made his home. Relics surrounded him, pieces of a past when he used to be Scout, the teenage partner of the original Vigil. Multiple sets of cyber armor in glass cases lined the wall, and prototype vehicles gleamed in the dim light. Panels of weapons and gear were carefully assembled and displayed.
He'd collected those fragments, brought them to the basement as a museum of sorts, or so he told himself at the time. But all the while, he had prepared. Readying himself for the time when the baton was to be passed to another. In his naïve teenage years, he had thought he was going to be the next man up for the mantle, an inheritance passed from his father figure, Wayne Thomas.
Instead, Arthur's spine was shattered into irreparable pieces, and Wayne retired as a result. Burdened by the guilt, he swore he'd never go out as Vigil again. He almost kept his word.
Arthur glanced over at the man who unexpectedly slipped into Wayne's jet-propelled boots. A layover from another age where he fought a war against Imperials, the god-like metahumans gifted with uncanny powers. A man who saw the Cataclysm with his own eyes before hibernating in stasis for three centuries. In a way, it was fitting that he became the next Vigil.
He had already lived a legendary life.
Arthur couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy. Jett was everything he wasn't. Powerful and commanding, skilled and courageous. With his height of six feet three inches and chiseled physique, he looked every inch a super soldier, capable of being a one-man army even without the suit. He was the one out in the field, engaged in the action. Arthur could only stay in the command center and offer support as Incognito.
Jett glanced at him with an amused expression. "You were saying?"
"Oh. Sorry, Jett. I was saying that being Vigil is a bizarre experience. You'll deal with much crazier situations than this. Don't let it throw you off-balance."
"This Dolos person knows who I am. Doesn't that worry you?"
"Did he try to kill you? Or demand anything from you?"
Jett blinked. "No."
"Then don't worry about him. You'd be surprised how many people knew that Wayne was Vigil. Allies, lovers, even enemies."
"Enemies?"
"Yes. Like Mortis. He never revealed that secret to anyone out of a sense of jealous ownership. He didn't want anyone else to destroy Vigil, you see. It had to be him."
Jett scrubbed a hand over his shaved head. "Wow."
"Like I said — bizarre. You'll get used to it. The people that discover your identity usually fall into two categories: those who want something from you and those who want to own your destruction. I'd say Dolos is in the former category. Probably a low-key operator trying to make a name for himself."
"Be nice if I knew what he wanted."
"He told you: the end of Diabolis. Sounds like he has a bone to pick with someone in their organization. And if he's right about this Janus being their leader, that's a breakthrough in itself."
"Sure. It just bothers me that he could find out about Vigil so quickly."
We live in a city where surveillance is omnipresent. If one has been watching closely — which I assume Dolos has — then connecting the dots wouldn't have been hard."
Jett folded his muscular arms. "If that's true, I might as well show my face when I go out. What's the point of the helmet?"
Arthur guided his chair over to the workstation and picked up the battered helmet, looking at the damage from the explosion. "Protection?'
"Yeah. Point taken."
"Besides, I said if one has been watching closely. Few people have the means or time to do so. And that would have only been at the beginning, when you were just finding your way. Since then, we've taken the necessary precautions to keep you off most forms of surveillance."
"Right. Like the electronic countermeasures you created to follow me around."
"Exactly. When deployed, the ECMs do a great job of creating interference with any cameras in your vicinity. I've cloned your holoband to deceive anyone who might try to track you, and you've got your magic invisible cloak."
Jett grinned. "Cape. And it came in handy during the fight as an offensive tool."
"Well, you have to use every one at your disposal. Speaking of…"
He guided the chair over to the command center nearby, where an array of monitors displayed surveillance feed from various points in the city, focusing on confirmed and suspected syndicate centers of operations. He clicked over to a video of a tall, muscular man walking down the street.
Jett leaned in closer. "Who is this guy?"
A faint smile touched Arthur's lips. "it's you, Jett."
"Seriously — who is he? A mark we're tailing?"
Arthur tapped a few keys. "Look again."
The man's features blurred before morphing into a familiar face. Jett's eyes widened. "Wait a minute—"
"Just a cautionary measure, Jett. You never know when someone might demand to know your whereabouts. Like your police captain girlfriend, for instance."
"She's not my girlfriend."
"Whatever. The point is, you'll have credible evidence of being somewhere else should the need arise."
"Who is he?"
"Tommy Jones. One of my employees in Golding Security Tech. He goes around the city repairing cameras that get damaged or sabotaged. Which, as you can imagine, happens quite frequently. He works long hours and travels all around the Five Districts. Since we upgraded your job status from sewer worker to GST, Tommy fills in the gaps when you're on Vigil business. The uniform cap he's wearing has a remote liner that projects a digital mask of your face to any camera that captures his image. All without his knowledge, of course."
"The thing is, it's really hot out there. So, what if he removes the hat to cool off?"
"Uniform rules are strictly enforced. He won't risk his job by taking the cap off for more than a few seconds. And if he loses it somehow, he's got a few spares in his van. This is a fallback measure, anyway. You should be fine, but we need to have all bases covered just in case."
"Fine. Weird, but fine."
Arthur studied him. "You seem a bit jumpy right now."
Jett sighed. "I went to a Haze parlor today."
"Should I ask?"
"One of the girls at the Youth Haven goes there on the regular. Dangerous neighborhood. I was concerned."
"But not just about her, it seems."
"Her safety was the priority, Arthur."
"Okay, Jett."
"But… there was something else. She said she saw me in the Imperial War. And sure enough, they had files on me."
"What kind of files?"
Jett's fists clenched. "Memories. Stolen while I was in stasis by William Golding. Or his people, anyway. Just like when he created those synoid replicates of my team. Not just events like the war. People, intimate moments. It's like they reached into my head and pulled out everything about me. Then without any respect or regard, they packaged it, slapped a price tag on it, and distributed it to anyone who wants to pay for the experience. The experience of being me. It's…" His muscles tensed and he turned away, chest heaving.
"A violation."
"Yeah. To say the least. So when you mention Golding, it all comes back. I know you've infiltrated his businesses to try to bring him down, but we're not any closer to finding out what his endgame is. I want this to stop, Arthur."