October 7th, 2020.

Arc made it to the office despite the New Jersey traffic on I-280, it had left him exhausted, and it was only morning. He walked into a mall that had started to come to life with elderly walkers and store employees. He opened the door to the restaurant, Beanies: The Vegan Buffet. Arc was the first one to work. The man prided himself on being prompt. The cooks would soon be in, and the smell of mushroom lentil soup would pour from the kitchen.

In the dry storage, behind shelves of beans and rice, Arc waved his access card on an open spot on the wall. There was a click, and the wall opened to a hallway. As he walked to his office, the shelves clicked back in place behind Arc. The small warehouse was packed with cases of whiskey, gin, rum, and vodka. Other shelves held crates of grenades and small arms ammunition. Wrapped packages of narcotics waited behind a locked gate. Beanies was a front for the Fifth Street Gang.

Fifth Street was an independent crew in the Cartel of Doom. The multi-regional Superpowered gangster syndicate. With independence, the Fifth Street Gang answered to whomsoever territory they were in. They would pay tax to that boss. The boss didn't matter to Fifth Street. Be it Salvadorans, Italians, Irish, Jamaicans, or Cartel, the money was green. But ultimately, they were the Cartel of Doom.

The sound of the loading dock opening pulled Arc out of his office. Paulie Bicchieri, Arc's lieutenant and advisor, pushed a dolly with cases of liquor. He had a crew loading a waiting truck. Paulie wore a thrift store suit and needed a shave.

"Morning Cap," Paulie said.

"Pauliee. Everything has to go this week," Arc said.

"It is all sold and only needs delivered. We can leave with a clean slate. It is not my first move. Did we get word where we're going?" Paulie said.

"Mr. Fenic said we can go back to Charlotte. I excepted his offer," Arc said.

"I don't know which to be more worried about, Charlotte or Fenic," Paulie said.

"Fifth Street turning up in Charlotte will be a provocation. Almost a declaration of war to one family of Heroes. But Fenic's involvement means it comes from the top," Arc said.

"So the big job is going to happen?" Paulie said.

"Yes," Arc said.

"Am I involved?" Paulie said.

"Not in the field."

"I am both disappointed and relieved," Paulie said.

"I'm still going to need your help with planing to pull this off on our end. We're done working odd jobs. We can moved back into a territory full time," Arc said.

"Full time, about that. Ya know, Cap. You're an independent Captain of the Cartel of Doom. The inheritors of the Chicago Outfit and the Detroit Partnership. We were once the premiere Super Crime Organization, East of the Mississippi. And are upon hard times now. Yet, we have not fallen so low as to forget our dignity." Paulie said.

"Paulie, just say it," Arc said.

"You got to move out of your mom's house. I mean soon. It's a bad look for a Capo," Paulie said.

"Paulie, I don't have time for this. I got a Goon Casting in ten minutes Get this stuff out of the warehouse," Arc said.

"Yes sir," Paulie said.

Arc sat in the shadows of Beanie's private meeting room. The dim lighting came from the broken bulbs. Facilities had apologized but waited on parts. Not that Arc could say much, he broke the lights. He wanted dramatic lighting, and a few bulbs popped. Now he needed help reading the submitted applications in the dark.

The elevation to Captain came after the incarceration of the previous Captain. Finger Joey. The membership elected Arc, and then about half retired. Arc found himself on the edge of a move and a once-in-a-lifetime job without help. So he held a Goon Casting. Superpowered knuckle-draggers filled the restaurant's dining room.

The next interviewee walked into the offered chair.

"Tell me about yourself," Arc said.

"I'm angry at the world. I want to hurt people," he said.

"Where do you see yourself in five years?" Arc said.

"The state pen," he said.

"You got the job," Arc said.

Next, he called in a man in a corduroy suit with a reddish-brown curly beard and hair. His hair kept the dog ears out of sight.

"Tell me about yourself," Arc said.

"Gerrrrrr." he said.

"Wait, your Joel? The office in Tallahassee recommended you," Arc said.

"I need a third job to get my card," Joel said.

"Not a lot going on with us in Florida. You're a vet?" Arc said.

"Ten years off-world in the Vor War. Army Combat Engineer, Sapper, and Space Ranger," Joel said.

"You got the job," Arc said.

The next man was overweight, under-dressed, and had yet to experience the sharp end of the razor. The faded blue jeans and metal band tee-shirt would make him unnoticeable ten years ago. A deep brown mop of hair framed his black eyes.

"Tell me about yourself," Arc said.

"I'm Billhook, from Kansas City. I beat people up," Billhook said.

"Where do you see yourself in five years?" Arc said.

"Beating people," Billhook said.

"You got the job." The goon casting continued into lunch.

"Tell me about yourself," Arc said.

"They call me Crush. I got a Glock," Crush said.

"Where do you see yourself in five years?" Arc said.

"Somewhere with my Glock." Crush said.

"We'll contact you," Arc said, waiting for Crush to leave. He then dropped his head on the table.

"Fifty more to go. Next!" Arc said. It was a long day.

The last interviewee walked in wearing a dark cloak with a hood. He pulled the hood back to reveal a shaved head.

"Tell me about yourself," Arc said.

"I'm pissed off. I had to wait for a Goon Casting. I have my card. The office sent me to back you up," the man said.

"Encephalon. Sorry, I need your number. And have a lunch voucher," Arc said, pushing the voucher over to the man.

"Fine."

"I kept you out there as a pre-screener. Is everyone stable?" Arc said.

"Hell no. Half are bat-shit crazy," Encephalon said.

"What about the dog guy?" Arc said.

"Smarter than he lets on. A good pick," Encephalon said.

After work, Arc drove home before the traffic got heavy; in the driveway, he sat in the car looking at the garage door. He looked at the painted windows.

How many years ago did he slop on that paint with Dad? Arc Thought.

He got out of the car to go inside.

At the door, the smell of food came from the kitchen. A pressure cooker hissed. Arc's mother came out to the hallway wiping her hands on an apron. Her pile of black curly hair came to his shoulder—a thin woman who seemed to move in jolts.

"Your sister will be home from school later," Blitzy said, reaching up to kiss Arc's cheek.

His father drank coffee in the kitchen while reading the racing form at the dinner table. Spark-Gap had a stressful time when he worked for C.O.D. in Charlotte. He had not aged with grace.

"How did the goon casting go?" Spark-Gap said.

"About as well as imagined," Arc said.

Blitzy put plates and silverware on the table.

"Archie, did you have any girls at the Casting? It's how I met your father," Blitzy said. Spark-Gap clasped his hands together.

"I talked to her for over an hour," Spark-Gap said.

"Mom got the job?" Arc said. Blitzy smiled as she placed the silverware.

"She made M.V.P. on two jobs and later goon of the year. Soon it was clear she had a knack for crime. So I asked her out," Spark-Gap said.

"You also made Capo the week before," Blitzy said.

"Simpler times," Arc said.

"Lots of work. The Old Cartel. We were the Gucci of Crime," Spark-Gap said.

"I'm trying," Arc said.

"It's OK. Being the best takes time. How's Paulie doing?" Spark-Gap said.

"Good," Arc said. Paulie talks to everyone, Arc thought.

Blitzy brought over a serving bowl of steaming corn beef and cabbage.

"Archie, remember to take your sister on this job. You promised she could go," Blitzy said. She scooped out the food.

Paulie can't beat Mom for meddling, Arc thought.

"Mom. She's the cornerstone of my plan," Arc said.

Mom's right about Misty's potential, but It's too soon, Arc thought.

Blitzy pushed Spark-Gap to call in favors when his sister's abilities had manifested. Misty now had full Cartel membership. There were rumors of Fennic and the Manticore Groups' involvement. It made sense, but she was twelve at the time.

After dinner, Arc waited in his room, the same room for the last twenty years. The return to Charlotte made it necessary to move.

After this job, I'll move out. There are too many eyes on me. I need to spend more time with the Gang like a Capo. I have all the responsibility and none of the control, Arc thought.

With a knock on the door, Arc's younger sister Misty walked in. She ate her meals at school and still wore the Mecklenburg Academy middle school uniform. A knee-length jumper in yellow and beige. A white short sleeve shirt with the same bow tie and white socks. Her brown hair had two braids in the back.

"Dress code for this job is Villain casual. Do you have an outfit for the Homecoming job?" Arc said.

"I found something," Misty said.

"Play it all mysterious with the goons. Encephalon is the only other full member," Arc said.

"I have to get back. Send me a text when you want me to pick you up." Misty said.

"Go," Arc said. Then, in a puff of white mist, the girl was gone.

Colby found Flat in the third-floor commons reading a book. She dropped onto the couch next to Flat.

"Kipling is on our book list?" Colby said.

"No. Research, it turned into a rabbit hole of short stories. Kipling gets what we're going through." Flat said.

"I got your state letter and I.D. card," Colby said, holding the envelope.

Colby's been losing weight, Flat thought.

Her friend had benefited from the physical side of the school. She still had thick legs, but she had slimmed down.

"I might have blinked during the picture," Flat said.

Inside was the state letter of license with the embossed seal of North Carolina.

"You are now the Apprentice Hero, Flat," Colby said.

"There's no point fighting the name," Flat said.

"And it was available," Colby said.

"Eyes open," Flat said, showing the identity card to Colby.

"Better than your baptism picture," Colby said.

"The heater broke. The water was freezing," Flat said.

"I got my letter and card," Colby said.

"Sidekick?" Flat said.

"Sidekick. Now I can apply for grants and request surplus equipment from D.A.R.P.A.," Colby said.

"Can I get a flame thrower?" Flat said.

"No. Made in Italy," Colby said.

"How about a sword?" Flat said.

"Not surplus equipment," Colby said.

"How about radios?" Flat said.

"We already have radios. I'll get us satellite phones," Colby said.

"Nice," Flat said.

"I've been holding off. Are you better after the Summer?" Colby said.

"Two months in this school feels like a year. I thought there would be a life lesson or some wisdom but all I've done is learn how to beat people up. I think I'm good at it. The training keeps me busy. I have these abilities and God put us here. I have to accept it," Flat said.

"You had me worried enough to change schools," Colby said.

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this, even if it was your choice. And I need to find new dreams. I want to help people, I never thought it would be with my fists," Flat said.

"Are we growing up?" Colby said.

"I had to fight a werewolf and a robot gorilla last week," Flat said.

"Maybe not," Colby said.

"One win. One loss," Flat said.