He looked directly into the cameras. "I need you."
Later that evening, he watched the broadcast, noting the subtle cues in his stance, expressions, and gestures. He appeared sincere, in command. From the nonstop replay and online blasts, it seemed to be a success. In the midst of one of the city's most desperate times, Mark Harrington was there to lead the way.
It couldn't have gone better.
He smiled, turning off the wall picjector. The room darkened, illuminated by a flash of lightning that revealed he wasn't alone.
His heart rate quickened, but not enough to panic. As the silhouetted figure approached, Harrington's hand slid into the drawer of his desk, where his P1 Special was secured.
When his hand slid over the empty interior, he panicked.
Lightning flashed again, reflecting off the man's skull-faced mask. He held up Harrington's pistol. "Looking for this?"
Mortis always made Harrington uneasy. He previously worked for Richard Kent but considered himself a free agent, not an agent of Diabolis. He was a mercenary, someone who offered his services to Harrington at exactly the right time. Harrington didn't question the coincidence because he had planned to eliminate Mortis at the first convenient possibility. It wasn't until that moment that Harrington realized he might have made a fatal mistake by ever accepting Mortis' services in the first place.
He tried to keep his voice composed. "Oh, it's you. I thought it might have been—"
"Vigil? Don't make me laugh." Mortis sat across from Harrington and slid the pistol across the desk. "I took the liberty of removing it. That's quite a powerful weapon. I didn't want you to do anything stupid."
Harrington itched to snatch up the handgun, but he resisted the urge. "How did you get in? My security is supposed to be—"
"Useless," Mortis said. "To me, anyway. I came here to settle up."
"Now? You're putting everything at risk by showing up here. I expected you to be in the Underbelly where—"
"Where you planned to kill me? Was Joe Blow supposed to do it? Or did you plan to lure me into the gallows room? Or wait — was Vigil your planned assassin?" Mortis laughed, an electronic rasp devoid of humor. "It's still too early for us to meet. I have more suffering planned for him."
It wasn't hot in the room, but a bead of sweat slid down Harrington's forehead. "I never had plans to—"
"Don't insult my intelligence, Mr. Mayor. You fashion yourself a mastermind, always two steps ahead of everyone else. Your enhanced mind is always plotting. I'm not even offended. Hell, I'm slightly impressed. Your plan to rid yourself of all opposition was a stroke of genius. And the rehabilitation of Neo York? Remarkable. Given enough time, it could even work. It's too bad you didn't account for a single variable in your grand equation. You didn't account for me."
Harrington trembled, filled with dread. "Look, maybe we can cut a deal. You want Vigil, don’t you? I know who he is. I'll give that info to you, plus anything else you—"
Lightning flashed. The metal skull grinned. Thunder boomed loudly, rattling the—
No.
Not thunder. Smoke wafted from his midsection, where his ruptured organs were exposed, torn apart from the pulse round. The scent of scorched flesh was surprisingly strong. Harrington gasped, nearly passing out from the shock. The pain was still distant, approaching like a tsunami wave. It was fear that gripped him, the terror of his impending death. The end of everything he just accomplished, the end of everything yet to achieve. A sickening gurgle escaped from his throat.
The pain crashed down on him.
Mortis closed his fingers, shutting down the blaster in his palm. "I already know who Vigil is. I know everything about Jett Wolfe. And I can't have you getting in the way of my plans for him. Vengeance is a succulent dish, you see. It takes various ingredients mixed just so before you let it simmer, stew in its own juices. It has to be perfect before you serve it."
He rose from the chair and stood over Harrington like a black-armored Angel of Death. "There's one last thing you can do for me, Harrington. Scream. Give me everything you have, all that's left of you. Don't hold anything back. After all, it's the last sound you're ever going to hear."
Harrington screamed. He screamed until his voice shattered, clutching his dreadful wound while his bladder erupted and tears streamed down his face from the agony, from pain he didn't know could exist. But most of all, he screamed out of pure terror as the hideous skull grinned down at him, delighting in his torment.
Arthur watched when the Stingray glided into the hanger, lift jets pulsing as it dropped to a landing. The cockpit slid back with a hiss. Much to Arthur's surprise, Spitfire was in the pilot's seat. She clambered out and leaped down, staring at the hangar with open amazement on her face.
Vigil awkwardly pried himself from the rear section and followed, removing his helmet. The expression on his face when he looked at Spitfire was pure fondness. Arthur felt a dull ache at the recollection of when he was Spitfire's age, and Wayne looked at him in the same way — like a proud parent at their child.
Jett placed a hand on her shoulder. "Eyes up, soldier. There's someone special I want you to meet. Arthur, this is Mira. Mira, meet Arthur, otherwise known as Incognito."
Arthur guided his hoverchair over and offered his hand. "Pleased to finally meet, Mira. I've heard great things about you."
"Same," she said, enthusiastically shaking hands as she continued to scan the base, taking in the rows of encased uniforms, multiple vehicles, weapons racks, sleeping quarters, and the Accelerated Healing Process Pod built into the wall. "Wow, is all this yours? You must be mad rich, yo."
Jett groaned. "Mira…"
Arthur waved him off with a laugh. "No, it's okay. And in answer: yes, I happen to be mad rich. My investments in security tech paid off handsomely, so I can afford to invest in more interesting things."
"Like Vigil tech?"
"Exactly. Don't be shy — take a look around. Afterward, we'll go upstairs, and you can see the rest of the place."
Her eyes widened. "The rest? You mean there's more? Jett, you been holding out on me big-time."
Arthur shared a laugh with Jett as she bounded off to explore. "Hard to believe I was once as young and energetic as she is."
Jett stared after her. "Yeah, I know."
"You okay, Jett? You seem a little down."
"Ronnie says I'm going to get her killed."
"Is that what you think?"
"I don't know, Arthur. I never meant for her to be in this life, but here she is. Do you think Ronnie's right?"
Arthur was quiet for a moment. "I think she'd already be dead if it wasn’t for you, Jett. She was walking a dangerous path when you met her. It was you that changed things for her. You gave her a family with you and Qhawa. Hopefully, I can be a part of that too. That can't be a bad thing, can it?"
"I hope not, Arthur. Because if something happens to her…"