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Stories from the Verse
Con Version
Chapter 183: Brown 350
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Cooper 58
Since it was Friday, Brian and Tommy had paychecks to deposit, and decided to show Derek and Vashti the bank. Brian suggested they open a joint savings account, since they were married, and offered to spot them twenty dollars to do it this week so that when they got paid in two weeks the account would already be set up. As they reached the bank, Brian held the door and Tommy led the way inside, Derek and Vashti sandwiched between them. A few steps inside, Tommy stopped, and Brian caught up with her. Tommy pointed to someone.
“The man in the trench coat and Indiana Jones hat.”
“I see him,” Brian answered.
“Who wears a coat like that in Berkeley, Colorado? Notice that below he’s wearing black leotards and matching ballet slippers. So, why?”
“So, either he’s a black swan in a local ballet production, or he doesn’t want people to see what he’s wearing.”
“Which suggests?”
Brian shrugged. “It would make sense. After all, one of the largest employers in the city gave out paychecks after closing yesterday, and this bank is only three blocks away, so a lot of people are coming to cash checks. The bank knows this, so it has to pack the drawers of the tellers with extra cash to deal with the volume--and the criminals are probably smart enough to figure out that if they hit it right as lunch is beginning, they’ll get the biggest haul.”
Tommy nodded to a side door. “Bathrooms?” she asked; he nodded, and they disappeared in that direction.
Derek watched all this with interest, as the criminal stepped up to the counter in his turn, removed his hat and dropped his jacket to reveal an almost comical outfit that looked very like a bumble bee, accented by his corpulent middle. “I’m Beekeeper,” he declared. “I’ll take all the cash in your drawers, thank you.” Then somewhat louder, he said, “Everybody, on the floor!” He then opened his mouth, and a swarm of bees started to pour from it.
Derek’s attention was then shifted, as someone emerged from the bathrooms, short and rather slender, wearing a somewhat primitive natural leather jacket and fur hat over modern jeans and sneakers, with a simple mask and a utility belt on which hung, notably, a coil of rope. A moment later an even more outrageous figure appeared, taller, wearing a dark green and black body suit with a complete hood over the head sporting a bright letter “J”, with a sword and a gun on a belt. The duo appeared to confer, and then the smaller one started running across to the opposite side of the room, and a familiar voice shouted, “Truth triumphs!”
Beekeeper turned his attention to this, and the bees started heading that direction. Suddenly the rope was swirling, spinning in a pattern very similar to what Lauren taught him to do with his chain, and he noticed for the first time that it had a sort of grappling hook on the end. This apparently confused the bees, who spread a bit but seemed to be seeking a way around the hazard.
Meanwhile, once all attention was on the woodsman, the green-suit quietly walked up behind Beekeeper, drew his gun, and fired what appeared to be a small rocket into the backside of the villain. It must have been an anesthetic dart similar to his own, he thought, as the criminal collapsed. Green suit then said, “And Justice prevails!” and he holstered the gun. “Call the police,” he added, and one of the bank managers nodded, and reached for the phone.
However, the bees were still in the building, and now they seemed to have lost their direction, and being aggravated by the spinning rope were beginning to swarm. Derek realized that something had to be done; he thought of something.
“Stay clear of the door,” he said to Vashti, and he ran to it, stepped outside and held it open. Running quickly through his brain, he remembered the mental pattern of the bee, and sent out a telepathic summons calling for any bee to come to him.
In seconds the swarm was pouring out the door. He dropped the call, trusting that at least most of the bees would follow the others, and although he might not get all of them those who remained would probably not pose a serious threat. He went back inside. The costumed heroes were standing beside Vashti, and were, as he had supposed, Tommy and Brian.
“How did you know,” the one they were calling Justice asked, “that the bees would head for the open door?”
“It’s more complicated than that. When I was a young sprite, I had reasons to believe I was going to need special powers, so I tried to figure out what I could do. I had met someone who could do all kinds of things, but she had only taught me to read minds when we were separated. So I wondered if I could summon small animals, and bees were one of the ones I learned to do. I thought under the circumstances if I went outside and summoned the bees, they would follow me if they could. Anyway, it worked. But what were you guys doing?”
“Oh,” Tommy provided. “I told Br--Justice that I would try to distract the villain so he could take him out, and he used his knockout dart gun. Now, as soon as the police arrive, we’ll slip off and return to our normal--I guess they’re called ‘secret identities’. Then we’ll deal with your banking problem.”
Derek nodded. Vashti said to him, “So I guess you really are a superhero.”
He shrugged. “I guess. So, if you’re Truth,” he said pointing at Tommy, and then at Brian, “and you’re Justice, does that make me the American Way?”
Tommy and Brian both laughed. Vashti, of course, didn’t get it, but that was fine--he didn’t think it was all that good a joke anyway.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
