Located in the heart of Paragon City, the Riders of the Apocalypse headquarters were situated in the historic district of Steel Canyon. The offices had once been home to the infamous Southern United Manufacturing Company which had served as a front for the Nemesis forces. Once Nemesis was forced to abandon the city, the building was purchased and redesigned by Riders to house offices for their members, as well as a state of the art crime fighting facility.
“You wanted to see me Moon?” Said Cavalier as he entered Moon Psyche’s office. He was always surprised at the tidiness in here, everything had a place and not a speck of dust could be found. Moon Psyche was perhaps the most handsome man Cavalier knew of, and if it weren’t for super powers, he would more than likely be a movie star or a model. The female gender always sighed when they laid eyes on him, he knew it, but didn’t care much about it, dismissing all thoughts about them, he was enthralled and always had been by Sun Heat.
“Close the door, we have to talk.” He simply said, as he stacked away a pile of paper. Moving the mouse to deactivate the screen saver of the LCD that was showing a picture of him and Sun Heat bowling, he clicked opened a file. Cavalier sat down in the comfortable chair in front of Moon’s desk and rested a size fourteen boot on the edge of the dark maple wood. Moon Psyche threw him such a look, that he put down his foot right away, then grabbed a tissue and dusted off the place where he had scuffed the desk.
“What’s up Moon? I’ve been up for a day and was hoping to get to my office and rest a bit.” Cavalier spoke as he yawned heavily.
“Hunters of Apocalypse.” Said Moon Psyche softly.
“Are we creating a new branch?” Replied Cavalier a bit bored by the conversation, he was already slouching in the chair.
“They exist already, based out of Kings Row.” Went Moon as he was looking for a reaction in the leader of Apocalypse.
“Ok, so what about them, aside from the fact that we should sue them for royalties?” Cavalier didn’t care much for legal battles.
“Seventy-five members strong, which I cross referenced in our database. All of them criminals of some sort, murderers, thieves and some of them have even been Academy prospects. But what was more intriguing was this; all of them had been condemned to prison by the authorities. And yet, none of them are serving their sentences.” Moon spoke the following as he was pointing here and there on the computer screen, bringing up picture of convicts dressed in the orange suit of the Ziggurat facility, holding the numbered plate of reference.
“I still don’t follow Moon, why are we talking about some unknown super group, are they responsible for Kings Row?” Cavalier sat up in the chair and leaned forward to look more closely at the computer screen.
“No, Machine of the FRONT brought these files in this morning, to their headquarters, and Xanthion called me earlier to make sure I got my hands on them. They’re a rogue unit, Cavalier, financed directly through us.”
“What?” Almost yelled Cavalier as a look of disbelief appeared on his face.
“They took out city counsellor Parkinson, stole the money from the Warriors, and here, it’s mentioned they had a hand in the untimely demise of at least five policemen we knew to be corrupted. I have at least five hundreds contracts to sift through from the database. But what is more troubling is this, I searched our entire database for a reference on the money it takes to finance them, and nothing.” Moon shook his head and looked away, towards the fish tank in his office. “It’s as if even their leader, a guy named Bear Cat isn’t aware who pays their salary, or supplies them. All the data points the finger at us, and yet, I can prove that we didn’t do it, without a doubt.”
Cavalier scratched his head, then his unshaven face, uncertain what to say next. A rogue organization within the Apocalypse family, that in itself, was something he had never dreamed of, but furthermore, he smelled the scent of a cover up rising, and that wasn’t pleasing him at all. Thinking about what Turbo Starr would do, if he were still alive, Cavalier said:
“Ok, we need to find out more. But first things first, let’s send out a hero all-call on the frequency and have them brought in… All of them, for questioning, I especially want a word with their leader, Bear Cat right?” Spoke Cavalier in a tired voice, while he stood to leave the office.
“One more thing Cavalier, and you won’t like it. There is mention in there of someone we all know.” Moon was looking down at his desk, measuring what he was about to say. Cavalier stopped dead in his track, and cocked his head to the side to listen to what Moon was about to say, recognizing the tone in the voice, the one used before dropping a bomb.
“What is it?” Said the squared jaw scrapper coldly.
“Dan Young is involved. Brahma Bullseye.”
Cavalier turned around and looked in Moon Psyche’s eyes, to ascertain that he had heard right. Shaking his head in disbelief at the news, clenching his teeth at the ramifications if this became public knowledge, he told Moon Psyche:
“Build me a file on Brahma Bullseye, everything that has happened since the Firebase Zulu incident. I want to know who his recruits were at the academy, whom he sees on his off hours, medical reports, everything you can dish out. Keep this quiet Moon.”
“I was already on it Cavalier, but until then should we suspend his activities?” Replied Moon Psyche, who was also disturbed at the magnitude of this find.
“No, not until we know more.” Re plied Cavalier as he walked out of Moon Psyche’s office and headed for the break room, to find something to drink.
Rummaging through the old 1970’s refrigerator, Cavalier sighed in relief as he laid his hand on the last bottle of Sleeman, Silver Label. He had lately taken a fancy to this Canadian beer that somehow surpassed any English beer he knew of. Twisting open the cap, he took a long gulp from the cold drink, and walked out into the corridor, heading for his office, and at times sleeping quarters. He loved the familiarity of it, the messiness he left in there on purpose, stating to all that this was his place, and no one else’s. As he opened the door, expecting to find the usual mess, his eyebrows shot up.
“Not again.” He muttered to himself as he looked at the clean and tidy space in front of him. Reaching for his cell phone, he auto-dialled a number on it, waiting patiently for the person to answer. Walking around, he noticed that even the old trash can he kept full and overflowing had been cleaned and empty.
“Hello sweetie?” Chimed a clear and amused voice.
“Cymbaline, did you clean my office again, and more importantly, did you pull a Miss April on me again?” Asked the squared jaw scrapper at the fiery woman.
“Yes, yes I did clean that pig sty you call an office. I swear, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even find you dirty magazines hidden under that old couch you call a bed.” She replied laughing, amused that Cavalier was once again annoyed at him. Cavalier rushed to his old leather couch, and looked underneath it, expecting to find a stack of Playboys, but instead, emptiness. The last time Cymbaline had cleaned his quarters, she had found his hidden stash in his desk, and had proceeded to black mark every revealing picture with a marker. They were best friends, and at times, some people at the headquarters were wondering if they were having an affair. Both of them were always quick to deny such a rumour, dismissing it with a laugh or saying not until they were last two persons on earth.
“My magazines better not have been tempered with a black marker, or you will get a spanking the likes of which hasn’t been seen in a century.” Replied Cavalier, dead serious while she giggled at the thought.
“Oh Cavalier, why bother with magazines when half the female population of Paragon wants you in their bed, and probably all of the gay population as well.” She laughed harder after that one, while he grumbled something unholy.
“Report to my office as soon as you can, you hussy, I need your help with something.” He hung up after she acquiesced his request, and let himself fall on his couch, resting a size fourteen boot on the arm of it. Emptying the cold beer, and letting out a long belch, his thoughts began to wander about the recent events. A few seconds later, people walking by his door, could hear him snore…