Superfreaks/ACRA: Silver Age Superfreaks #1

Martin Phipps martinphipps2 at
Mon Feb 19 18:20:26 PST 2007

Jim Morgan and Colin McKenzie: detectives.  Craig
Franklin and John Phelps: police officers.  Quinton
Macy and Jack Greenspan: medical examiners.  Darren
Kent and Alan Russell: lawyers.  These are the men who
are truly our last line of defense.  But what about
the capes whose cases they have to investigate? 
Should they be considered a help or a hindrance?

                Silver Age Superfreaks #1


                         PART I

7:01 am

  Bruce Blake awoke in his bed.  he had been dreaming
of a woman.  No, it wasn't that kind of dream.  This
dream involved blood, a lot of blood, an amount of
blood that could only have resulted in death.
  The dream seemed so real that Bruce thought it might
have been a forgotten memory.  Had he killed somebody?
It was possible.  He had been having blackouts for
years.  He never knew what he had been doing during
the periods he couldn't remember.  Could he have been
out there killing people?
  If only he could have known for certain one way or
the other!

8:09 am

  Officer Craig Franklin had managed to infiltrate The
Kidder's organisation and had risen to the rank of
thug.  This required him to have a codename.  His
codename was "Shorty".  He wasn't really short, mind
you: that was just how The Kidder operated; his other
thugs, you see, were a bald man named "Curly", a
midget named "Big Al" and a sumo wrestler named
"Slim".  To make sure that the names stuck, The Kidder
had them all wear black T-shirts with their code names
printed on them in yellow.
  The Kidder, himself, dressed like a clown with a
purple suit and a white face, although Craig had been
around long enough to suspect that he wasn't actually
wearing makeup.  Perhaps the lack of colour in The
Kidder's face was due to exposure to his own drugs:
the suspicion was that The Kidder was running drugs
for Eaglone but even after months on the case, Craig
hadn't heard anything from The Kidder that confirmed
this; the problem was that very little of what The
Kidder said made any sense at all.
  "Pepperton is ripe for the taking!" he would say. 
"All the pawns are in place!  Soon the king will be
taken and then it will be checkmate!  Game over,
Pepperton!  You lose!  Haha haha hahaha!"
  See?  What was Criag supposed to do with that?
  The Kidder was in the middle of one of his
nonsensical tirades when the Titanic Twosome - Night
Man and Moon Boy - showed up.
  "Your diabolical plans will do you no good, Kidder! 
You've had your time but now your time is up!  Today
is the day when you face you comeupance!"
  Wow.  Night Man's banter was almost as nonsensical
as The Kidder's tirades.
  "Get them!" The Kidder ordered.  For once he wasn't
kidding.  Great, just great, Craig thought. 
Hand-to-hand combat with Night Man wasn't high on his
list of things to do that day.
  Craig, Curly and Slim rushed to take on Night Man,
apparently feeling there was safety in numbers. 
Somehow, Night Man managed to hit all three of them,
which was surprising because he only had two arms and,
hence, only two fists.
  Big Al was left to deal with Moon Boy.  Moon Boy
wasn't exactly the greatest of fighter.  How could he
be?  It looked like he was barely twelve years old! 
What the Hell was Night Man thinking?  After years of
interfering in police business, he was now adding
child endangerment to his repertoire!
  Curly and Slim were unconscious already... or
perhaps they were faking it, leaving Craig to face
Night Man.  Fuck that, Criag thought.  He decided that
he, too, would take a fall: he was getting tired of
working for The Kidder anyway; he was getting nowhere
working undercover as one of The Kidder's thugs so why
not let Night Man take care of him?  Craig fell to the
ground with the next punch that Night Man managed to
land.  He didn't get back up.
  "It's over, Kidder!" Night Man said.
  The Kidder just laughed and cryptically said, "Maybe
for you it is!"  He then slipped through a hidden
door.  Night Man tried to go after him but it was too
late: The Kidder had appareant locked the door behind
  Night Man was left there banging on the door in
frustration for a moment before he turned and saw that
Moon Boy was getting beaten by Big Al.  Night Man
closed the distance between himself and the combatants
with a single bound and then picked up Big Al with a
single arm and threw him callously against the wall. 
That had to have hurt.
  "Thanks, Night Man," Moon Boy said.
  "You're not ready," Night Man said.
  "I'll be ready," Moon Boy told him.  "I promise."
  "You'd better be."
  Poor kid.
  Just then there were police sirens.  Curly and Slim
still weren't getting up.  Perhaps they decided going
to jail was preferable to facing Night Man again.
  "We'd better get going," Night Man said.
  Moon Boy struggled to get up.  He was obviously
  "Hurry up!" Night Man told him.
  "I'm coming!"
  They left.  Moments later, Jim Morgan arrived with
some uniformed cops.  He was careful not to blow
Craig's cover: all four of The Kidder's thugs were led
out in handcuffs and taken downtown.

9:35 am

  "How are you feeling?"
  "Fine.  I guess.  Considering."
  Officer John Phelps was Craig Franklin's partner
before Craig went undercover.  "Did Night Man hit you
  Craig laughed.  "A bit."
  "Ouch.  So what now?  Do you have anything for the
D.A. on Eaglone?"
  Craig shook his head.  "Ziltch."  He tought for a
moment.  "There's one way I could turn this to our
advantage though."
  "How's that?"
  "If The Kidder was working for Eaglone then maybe
Eaglone would be willing to give me a job based on the
time I've worked for The Kidder."
  John shrugged his shoulders.  "Even if The Kidder
was working for Eaglone that doesn't mean Eaglone was
doing anything illegal.  He'll just say that The
Kidder was involved in some legitamate business and
that anything else The Kidder did was his entirely
  "You don't believe that."
  John sighed.  "I'm just saying what Eaglone would
say.  And what a jury would believe.  And what a judge
would expect the jury to believe.  And what the D.A.
would expect the judge to expect a jury to believe."
  "Okay, okay, I get the picture!" Craig said.  He
grimaced.  "Damn.  We know Eaglone's dirty!  I wish I
could just walk up to him and blow him away and get it
over with!"
  John gave him a blank stare.  "That's not how it
works, Craig.  We need to collect evidence that we can
bring to trial.  That's how we stop guys like
  Just then, the precinct's receptionist, Brandy Brat,
knocked on the door to the interogation room.  She
cauticiously opened the door a bit.  "John, your wife
called," she said.
  "Is it important?" John asked.
  "You tell me.  She says she's going into labour."

                       PART II

9:58 am (same day)

  Bruce Blake opened the front door and found a short
man with graying brown hair, wearing a light brown
ragged trenchcoat standing there.  "I'm sorry to
disturb you, Mr. ..."
  "Blake.  I'm Bruce Blake."
  "I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Blake but there's
been a murder in this neighbourhood and I was
wondering if you saw anything or heard anything last
  "I'm sorry... um..."
  "Detective McKenzie.  Detective Colin McKenzie."
  "I'm sorry, Detective McKenzie, but I didn't hear
anything.  Or rather I don't remember hearing
  "You don't remember?"
  "Where exactly did the murder take place?"
  "Just a few blocks away."  Detective McKenzie pulled
out a photograph.  "Perhaps you knew the victim."  He
showed it to Bruce.
  The picture was that of the woman in Bruce's dream. 
"No, I'm sorry, Detective McKenzie, I don't know who
this is."
  Detective McKenzie eyed him suspiciously for a
moment.  Bruce didn't notice this because he was
looking away at the time.  "That's quite alright,"
Detective McKenzie said dismissively.  He took out a
business card.  "If you think of anything else, please
give me a call."
  Bruce took the card.  "I'm not a suspect, am I?" he
asked nervously.
  "Oh no, not at all," Colin said.  "This is just
routine.  You know: we'll talk to everybody in the
neighbourhood.  Thank you for your time."  He turned
to leave.  Bruce was about to close the door when he
stopped and turned around.  "Just one more question!"
  McKenize tapped his lips with his index finger. 
"You said you didn't know who the woman was."
  "That's right."
  "But have you ever seen her around?"
  Bruce hesitated.  "I don't remember."
  "You don't remember?"
  "She was a very pretty young lady.  You don't
remember seeing her before?"
  "Detective McKenzie, the picture you showed me was
of a dead woman.  I would have thought that if I had
seen her before then she would have been alive and she
would have looked a lot different."
  "Of course.  How silly of me!  Again, I'm sorry for
bothering you."
  "Not at all," Bruce said with a weak smile.  He
quickly closed the door as Detective McKenzie turned
around to leave.
6:30 pm

  "Mr. Phelps?"
  John looked up.  "Yes, doctor?  Is everything
  The doctor smiled.  "Yes, Mr. Phelps.  Your wife and
the baby are fine."
  "The baby?"
  "Yes, Mr. Phelps, you have a new baby girl. 
  "Can I see them?"
  "Of course!  That's what I came out to tell you. 
She's waiting for inside that room over there."
  "Thank you, doctor!"  John immediately went over to
where his wife was.  "Susan?"
  "John!"  Susan Phelps held their daughter in her
  "What are we going to call her?" he asked.
  "I want to call her Katherine.  Is that alright for
  "That's fine," John said.  "My God... I'm a father."
  "You will have to take more time off work to be with
us though.  You have responsibilities now."
  John nodded.  "I'm hoping to be promoted to
detective this year.  I wouldn't have to walk a beat."
  Susan frowned.  "Detective?  Wouldn't that mean more
work for you?"
  John shook his head.  "No.  It'd be mainly a desk
job.  I wouldn't even be leaving the precinct unless
it's to go to a crime scene."
  "That doesn't sound so bad."
  "And it would mean more money."
  Susan sighed.  "It's not the money.  I just want you
to be there for us."
  John laughed.  "Susan, I promise!  I will be there
_and_ provide for you and Katherine!"
  "You'd better!"
  "Or what?" Johns said with a laugh.
  "I'm serious!"
  "So am I.  Don't worry, Susan: we'll make this work.
 I promise."
  Susan smiled.  "Alright.  Do you want to hold her?"
  "Can I?"
  "Well, of course, you can.  You're her father."
  "It's just... I've never held a baby before."  He
took little Katherine in his arms.
  "Well, get used to it!  I'm going to expect you to
help me feed her, change her diapers..."
  "You promised!  You just said you'd be there for
  He smiled.  "Yeah, I guess I did."  He looked down
at his baby girl.  "Hey, Kitty, I'm your daddy!"
  "John, please!  Don't call her Kitty!  She's not a

                        PART III 

9:15 am

  "I'm here to see Eaglone."
  "Who are you?"
  "I'm Greg Richards," Craig said, using his
undercover alias.
  "Never heard of you.  What's your business with
  "Tell him The Kidder sent me."
  "Just do it."

9:36 am

  Craig managed to get in Eaglone's office.  Eaglone
did not look happy.
  "Why would The Kidder send you to see me?"
  "He didn't.  Not exactly anyway."
  "But you told one of my boys he did."
  "I used to work for The Kidder.  Now The Kidder's
  "So he mentioned that he was working for you."
  "He did?"
  Craig shrugged his shoulders.  "It was an offhand
remark.  The guy never shuts up."
  "So I've heard."
  "Anyway, with The Kidder not having left any
forwarding address, I thought maybe you could give me
a job."
  "Do you think I'm running an unemployment service
  "And what makes you think I want to hire criminals?"
  "Who said I did anything criminal?"
  "What were you doing for The Kidder?  His laundry?"
  "And what was he doing for you?"
  There was a pause.  Craig wondered if he was going
to get a bullet in his head.  Finally, Eaglone laughed
and nodded his head.
  "Alright.  Fine."  He pointed to two of his men. 
"Joe, Mac, take Greg to meet the Porcupine."

10:30 am

  "Detective McKenzie?"
  Colin McKenzie looked up to see a man in red spandex
with a yellow cape and a yellow lightning symbol
across his chest.  "Who are you?"
  "I'm Colonel Wonder."
  "Colonel Wonder?"
  Colonel Wonder nodded.  "I've come here to tell you
that Bruce Blake didn't kill that girl."
  "Oh really?"
  "No.  Bruce Blake was at home when the girl was
  "And how do you know that?"
  "I have a sixth sense."
  "Really?  I've got a sixth sense too.  And it's
detecting bullshit."
  Colonel Wonder considered his options.  He didn't
want Bruce Blake being investigated, let alone
standing trial.  He took a quick look around to see if
anybody on the street was standing close enough to
hear him talking.  "Alright.  I _am_ Bruce Blake."
  Colin looked Colonel Wonder up and down.  "You're
not.  Bruce Blake is skinny.  You're bulked up like
  Colonel Wonder nodded.  "Okay.  It's like this:
Bruce Blake just happens to be my counterpart here on
  "Here on Earth?"
  "When I am not here I am in the Twilight Dimension
but when Bruce Blake is in the presense of evil - and
remember I've got a sixth sense about such things -
then we switch places, except that the transference
leaves Bruce in stasis until I switch us back."
  Colin smirked.  "So how does that work?  Bruce is in
danger and you and he switch places?  What does that
have to do with the girl?"
  "I sensed the girl's murder.  I wasn't able to
determine who was responsible, however.  The killer
was long gone by the time I got to the scene.  So I
went back to Bruce's house and put Bruce to bed."
  Colin eyed Colonel Wonder suspiciously.  "Wait. 
Does Bruce even know that you are taking his place?"
  "No," Wonder admitted.
  "You haven't told him?"
  "We cannot occupy the same dimension at the same
time.  How can I tell him?"
  "You could write him a note."
  "You mean like 'Thanks for the use of your body.' 
Signed Colonel Wonder?"
  "Something like that."
  Colonel Wonder sighed.  "Maybe you can tell him."
  "I've been keeping our dual identity secret: you are
the first person I've told about this.  So now you can
tell him."
  Colin thought for a moment.  "I've got a better

11:03 am 

  "Greg Richards, meet the Porcupine."
  The Porcupine was like a living animal: he was
covered from head to (presumably) toe with quills. 
Yet he still managed to look good in a tuxedo.
  "Porcupine.  I used to work for The Kidder."
  "So I was wondering if there was any chance I could
join your organisation."
  The Porcupine looked Craig over.  He then turned to
look at one of his men.  Then back at Greg.  Then back
at his man.  Finally, he pulled out one of his quills
and threw it at the man he had looked at: the quill
hit the man in the neck.  The man fell to the ground. 
Nobody rushed to help him.
  "So happens," the Porcupine said, "you're in luck. 
We've just had a position open up."
  Jesus, Craig thought.

                    TO BE CONTINUED


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