The Battle Begins, Part Five

Continued from Part Four

Flying over downtown Seattle the next morning, Powerhouse spotted the man in the Italian suit from the previous evening entering an office building. Powerhouse hovered near a brown stucco building and changed color to match.

Another familiar face arrived. The reporter who’d written an editorial attacking him, Frank Leonard.

Powerhouse waited a few minutes and then flew above the building they’d entered. He scanned it and found them with two other men in a boardroom on the 25th floor. He unlocked a window and flew inside.

A secretary outside the boardroom said, “Hey! You can’t go there.”

“Watch me,” said Powerhouse.

Ross blathered on about the campaign against Powerhouse. Marcos took an antacid tablet and waited for his turn. Powerhouse had treated him like some two bit hood. He was an experienced underworld figure. If he saw Powerhouse again, he’d whack him.

Powerhouse burst into the conference room and lunged for Marcos.

Marcos whipped out his gun. Powerhouse snatched it from his grasp and lifted him up by his shirt. “What were you doing in the alley last night?”

Marcos gulped. “Ain’t none of your business.”

Ross glared at Powerhouse. “You’re on private property. He doesn’t have to answer your questions.”

“Who are you?” asked Powerhouse.

“Frank Ross, owner of this building, and of Ross Insurance companies.”

“I recognize Mr. Leonard from the paper, but who are the rest of you?”

Welch jumped up. “Get out of here, or I’ll arrest you.”

“Who are you to arrest me?”

He pulled out his badge. “Captain Jake Welch, Seattle PD.”

Powerhouse said, “So the police captain who got the Chief to crack down on me is meeting with the reporter who wrote an editorial against me, and a man who was watching people try to kill me.”

Welch screamed, “Get out!”

“But I don’t know who the guy in the Italian suit is.”

“Out!”

Powerhouse obeyed. Welch slammed the door behind him. Ross fidgeted. “He’s not as stupid as he looks. Marcos, raise it to half a million.”

Powerhouse burst back in. “Marcos, that’s who you are! What’s your last name?”

Welch stood and whipped out handcuffs. “That’s it! I’ll bust your hide.”

Powerhouse jumped out the open window. “Powerhouse away!”

The four watched him fly away. Marcos gulped. “Boss, let’s make it 750 grand.”

Ross sighed. “You’ve got it, Marcos.”

Continued next Tuesday

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