Difference between revisions of "Sparrowhawk: Ghosts & Goblins, Smoke & Mirrors"

"Let's hear it for Deidre Castillo!"

The applause surged to a standing ovation in the large, Vegas- like auditorium know in Millennium City as the Blue Phoenix as the woman in question took a bow and the announcer spoke over the microphone. Deidre Castillo was beautiful by most anyone's standards, with shoulder length jet black hair and rose colored lips against slightly sun kissed skin. The lightest of blue eyes gave her an intense, knowing gaze. Her costume was indicative of her profession: black tailored short jacket, a crimson bodice that clung to her chest tightly and fishnet stockings that went to dark black high heeled shoes. Tonight's show was coming to a close finally after a hour long set that included theatrics that defied logic. At the young age of twenty six, Deidre was regarded as of the world's most notable up and coming sleight of hand magicians. She was known for her imagination and feats of prestidigitation that amazed and delighted her fans.

She was also known for being dead as of two days ago... yet here she was.

Her manager, Edward Morgan, a large, swarthy man was waiting backstage as Deidre finished her set. "Deidre!" he exclaimed, breathing and sweating heavily as he followed her down the metal stairs to her dressing room, "Maybe you owe me an explanation! Just two days ago you were found on the sidewalk after falling twenty five floors from your penthouse, and now you are here giving a show like nothing ever happened? What's that about?"

"Maybe its magic," Deidre said with a hint of a smile to Edward as the duo passed a group of barely dressed showgirls ready to take to the main stage as the next act.

"Maybe? Maybe?" Edward said, dumbfounded. "The news reports one day you are dead and you just start showing up again to your show like nothing happened? I had to hear about this on the news and I'm your manager!"

Deidre turned around as she reached her dressing room door, offering him a pat on the cheek. "Maybe one day I'll tell you my secrets," she said, reaching to his ear and pulling out a quarter, to which she showed him and then put in his pocket. She opened the door, her name emblazoned on it in huge letters, and closed it as Edward stood there dumbfounded.

Hours later, Deidre was dropped off to her penthouse by a chauffeur from the Blue Phoenix. It was nearing three thirty in the morning and the moon was high in the night sky. The autumn air was chilly as Deidre stepped outside of the car and her breath clearly visible as she said her goodbye. The driver congratulated her on an excellent show for the night and made a joke about her being a zombie, returned from the dead. He stated it was possibly her best show ever that he had seen, to which she politely thanked him before going entering the luxurious thirty seven story building which she called home. Downtown Millennium City was descending into a quiet slumber as traffic was exceptionally sparse and no one seemed to be around the lobby as Deidre entered. Lavish Art Nouveau architecture greeted her as she went to the elevator, which dinged and opened. She casually pushed the button to the twenty fifth floor. Reaching her penthouse, she let herself in.

Deidre tapped the light switch but it didn't seem to work. The only hint of light was courtesy of the recently replaced wall to ceiling double window that the news had reported she had fallen to her death from going through. It wasn't much, only allowing the most minimal of illumination. Undaunted, she walked further inside to her living room.

As she proceeded further inside, a sharp blow struck her from behind and Deidre collapsed beside her sofa. A clanking was heard as Deidre felt a hand grab her forcefully by the upper arm. Roughly she was pulled up to her knees as metal handcuffs were forced upon her, behind her back tightly. She didn't utter a sound as she was pushed once more to the ground and the perpetrator, with seemingly little remorse, kicked her directly in the stomach twice. Deidre was no longer moving or even struggling. Turning about and going towards the window a few steps away, the person responsible tapped something on the side of their face, a communicator of some sorts. It issued just the slightest of noise as it beeped, opening a channel.

"I've got her," the voice, male and raspy in tone, stated calmly. "What do you want me to do? If throwing her out of a building didn't work..." The figure paused, listening to directives for a few seconds. "That I can do," he then responded. "If you want her brought to you in pieces, then we will make sure she is in..."

The person turned around to look at Deidre's prone body. Yet she wasn't there anymore according to the silhouette she cast only seconds ago and he heard nothing, not even a light rustling, to show that she had gotten up to move. The only thing was the pair of silver-ish handcuffs that shone in the moonlight that had been secured on her, still locked.

"What the f...?" the man said under his breath, unlatching two guns that rested upon his belt. He looked around the room but couldn't sense any other thermal images. "Bitch, you better come out."

"Come out..." Deidre's voice called from one part of the room.

"Come out..." resonated from down the hallway, also in Deidre's voice.

"Wherever you arrrre," the voice finished, seemingly behind the would- be assassin. He turned quickly to greet the last voice, only to discover no one was behind him.

The man looked about, extending his guns outward from his body to prepare himself as he slowly and cautiously attempted to walk down the darkened hallway. He was know in underworld circles as "The Silencer" and did just that... he ensured that his quarry was silenced. Permanently. This was the first time he had a 'repeat customer' and the notion was not sitting well for him. He had worked on occasion in super human circles if the pay was good and the target posed a challenge. The Silencer himself had been cybernetically augmented to help acclimate into the big leagues. His arms and legs were grafted with synthetic muscle, allowing him to press well over three tons, and his mind enhanced to process visual information quickly to give him aim that bested any regular humans. His eyes were also combined with synthetic material, allowing him to see in normal darkness like someone might in daylight by only requiring the most minimal of light to be effective... handy in jobs such as this.

For a moment as he continued to the bedrooms he paused to wonder if he was indeed preparing to fight something from beyond the grave, and if so how was he even going to stop her. He had hit her before, just minutes ago, however. What he had struck was indeed flesh and bone and had weight to it. In the back of his mind the notion was indeed seeming to have some truth. The bedroom at the end of the hall was slightly ajar. With the end of his gun his slowly opened it further, the creaking sound given the scene an eerie, horror movie like quality.

"NO!" Deidre's voice called out behind him. Without hesitation, The Silencer raised his gun in the direction of the hallway, shooting two shots as he turned about. The gunfire, just soft 'fipps' through the silencer on his weapon, stuck the wall instead as no one was actually there. A framed lithograph fell from its position on the wall, shattering upon reaching the ground. Angered, The Silencer turned about to the main bedroom door and simply kicked it open.

The Silencer immediately spotted Deidre, crouched low by her exquisite canopy bed, her head partially hidden behind the gauze covering the bed's frame. He instantly shot off two more rounds, striking her in the head and she fell to the ground. The Silencer jumped over the bed with ease, his right hand holding a gun that was aimed exactly at her face. "Ghost, my ass," The Silencer said coarsely as he had bagged his victim.

But it wasn't Deidre. It was a wig, styled just like Deidre's own hair, over a plastic head form.

The Silencer instantly felt a jab into his ribs and a sharp strike connect with his sternum as he doubled over. The gun wielding killer went to roll upwards, his guns both ready to stop whatever was coming. He was instead greeted by two hands deflecting his arms from moving forward. As his weapons flung aside a foot flew into his face, shattering right through his face mask and destroying his teeth. He attempted to punch the person upon him but instead felt two fingers touch the side of his neck... and he suddenly realized he could no longer move as he was utterly immobilized.

The person now above him wasn't Deidre and it certainly was not a ghost. It was a woman with short blonde hair who was wearing Deidre's clothes. It was Alex Harper, known in most super heroic circles as Sparrowhawk.

Sparrowhawk was dressed in her usual gear by the time the Millennium City Police Department arrived to pick up The Silencer. He didn't have much to say on his way to the awaiting squad car, mostly because his teeth were shattered beyond repair and his jaw was fractured. Day was approaching as rays of light were preparing to burst forth over the skyline as she found herself at the world famous Barlowe Building, home of her team, the Protectors of the World. The upper floors of the executive hotel and the team's headquarters were empty for once, and so she found herself chatting with her friend, UNTIL contracted inventor Simon Reynolds, over the computer.

"I had learned Deidre Castillo's entire magic routine in three hours," Sparrowhawk said to Simon, getting herself something to drink as she spoke. "Getting the police to agree to me posing as Deidre one more time to expose the killer's may have been a bit unorthodox... but it worked. I mean, I _did_ study under the Crimson Conjuror in my younger days. He only happened to be one of the most prolific sleight of hand illusionists- turned- crimefighters in the world. Throwing your voice and getting out of handcuffs were tricks of the trade."

"What don't you know?" Simon said over the computer with a bit of a laugh. "How did you know that The Silencer was coming for you anyways?"

"That was easy," Sparrowhawk replied, taking out a mug and pouring some coffee into it. "I planted a dummy quarter on Deidre's manager, Edward Morgan, pretending it was a cheap magic trick. The coin actually contained a small recording device... her manager is right there in jail with The Silencer. The MCPD grabbed him as he was attempting to leave the country for a short 'vacation'. It was Edward's plan all along, and he was stupid enough to call him again to try to murder Deidre one more time."

"But why?" Simon asked, curious.

"Edward is a manager of a lot of large up- and- coming talent. He _also_ used his connections to run some favors for some rather unseemly types. He discovered Deidre had found out and was afraid she was going to the police... so, sadly, he felt that he had to take her out of the equation," Sparrowhawk responded, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Sounds like an exciting night," Simon said, yawning at the end of his sentence. "I'm tired, I need to get some sleep. You should, too. Just watch out for all that magic!"

"I'll leave the _real_ magic to Blaspherion, or Sapphire, or even Artifist," Sparrowhawk replied with a smirk, setting down her mug beside her computer. "I'll do what I do best... continue to deal with smoke and mirrors."