| Cassie Sanderson stepped in front of the
small shop in the toy district of Los Angeles. It was a small place in
an old building squeezed between two large mammoths owned by Asian import
companies. The name of the store was Finelli’s and beneath that was a small
sign that read; “Antique toys and watches repaired here.”
Through the window Cassie could see toys, hundreds of toys, and none of them were newer than twenty years. Trains, dolls, tin soldiers, and mechanical monkeys with cymbals sat in the window. Further in, Cassie saw someone moving about. Cassie stepped towards the door, then removed her sunglasses and placed them in the duffle bag she was carrying. Her emerald eyes momentarily sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. Stepping in, she was struck by two strong smells, one was of ancient dust, and the other was of oil used to loosen stiff screws and fix old toys. Behind the counter was a young woman, probably no older then 15. Beautiful, but plain looking without make up, she wore a floor length housedress and a work apron. Her auburn hair was bobbed just above her shoulders. “May I help you?” The girl asked very politely, after turning away from the shelf she was dusting. “Tell Finelli that Strombolli is here to see him.” Cassie said coolly. “He’ll be right with you,” the girl turned towards a curtain covered inner door. “Papa,” she said, “there’s someone here to see you.” “Who,” came a low voice, “What?!” The voice went several octaves, sounding hoarse. Cassie could hear the scurrying about in the other room, as if a child was trying to quickly hide something before the parents came home. After a minute the curtains parted once more and the girl came back in followed by a little man with uncombed white hair. He looked old, ancient, life had not treated him well, and yet when he looked at his granddaughter, Cassie could see a glimmer of hope in his eyes. She clearly meant everything to him. Finelli looked at Cassie, measuring her up, with caution and fear but not for him. “Sarah,” he turned to his granddaughter, “the floor of the store room needs a good sweep, would you mind doing that while I deal with this costumer?” “Certainly, Papa,” she replied and went back through the curtain. Certain the girl was out of earshot, Finelli crossed the shop and turned the sign from open to closed and locked the door. He turned back to Cassie and finally spoke. “What are you doing here? I was promised to be left alone if I stayed out of trouble and checked in regularly.” Cassie smiled, knowing she had him spooked, “Don’t worry, I’m not from the parole board. I want some answers, and believe you’re the right person to give them to me.” She reached into her duffle bag. “What do you know about this,” she pulled out a brass colored metal object, turning it over in front of him, she revealed a face. It had been the head of one of the robots Glamm had used as her Roadies in the attack up on Flying Glory and the Hounds of Glory. The old man gasped as if being struck in the chest. For a split second Cassie worried for his health, but pushed the thought aside. “It… it can’t be! They were all destroyed--!” “Apparently not all of them,” Cassie informed him, “Twenty were used in an attack on a rock concert downtown.” The old man looked scared, then blinked and shook his head clear. “I don’t know how someone would have gotten hold of them after Speedstar captured me, the fed had all my equipment and robots confiscated. Then had them all destroyed after the trial. That was over twenty years ago.” He stopped and took a breath, his head lowered. “Most robots come from Japan,” Cassie explained, “so it was quite odd to find a minor super villain using highly advanced technologies and yet have robot lackeys thirty years out of date.” He finally looked back at her. “I’m an old man, just trying to live a simple life now. All I have is this shop and my granddaughter. I don’t want to be involved in any of this nonsense any more. Please, just go away.” Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie could see the girl listening from the other side of the curtain. “Let’s hope you’re right, otherwise it wont be me who comes for a visit,” she put the robot head back in her bag, “You really don’t want anything to happen to your granddaughter.” Finelli looked up with another gasp, but Cassie had already unlocked the door and was gone. As Cassie headed down the street she reached into her bag for her sunglasses. A small red light was blinking in the upper right corner of the holographic screen in the lenses. She knew she was in trouble. With a quick retinal scan, the microcomputer activated. “Agent Sanderson,” a hollow voice spoke into her head, “you were not given permission to go off line.” “It was necessary while I followed up on a lead about the villain Glamm.” “Glamm is not your assignment, Flying Glory is!” “But sir, what about where Glamm got the technology she used. None of it was in her files, what if she is—“ “Glamm is being taken care of. Do not question us again, or you will be severely punished. Return your focus to the target now. She has been spotted over the Angeles National Forest.” “Yes, sir,” Cassie said dejected as she got into her car. Meanwhile back in the toyshop, a worried Sarah
found her grandfather at the counter working on a small pocket watch, but
his hands were shacking too much from fear to move the intricate springs
properly.
The End |
Flying Glory and the Hounds of Glory and all related characters are
Copyright 2002 Kevin Paul Shaw Broden and Shannon Muir
All rights reserved.
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