Legend of the Crimson Blaze: Superhero Age, #2

By Damien Benoit-Ledoux

Dive into the untold origins of a hero that shaped an era—before Blue Spekter, there was the legend of the Crimson Blaze!

In the aftermath of betrayal and covert experiments, First Lieutenant Catalina Hernandez faces the unimaginable: resurrection with newfound powers in a morgue's cold embrace. Fueled by a relentless pursuit for justice and answers, Catalina's quest uncovers the dark dealings of the CIA and a clandestine war waged by the enigmatic Order. Her journey for truth takes a personal turn when tragedy strikes close to home, compelling her to confront her demons and the mafia's deadliest in a quest for revenge.

 

Set against the backdrop of 1965's turbulent times, Catalina—now the formidable Crimson Blaze—ventures into the heart of Baltimore, MD, with a daring plan to expose and dismantle The Order's covert operations on American soil. Amid the shadows of her past and the dangers of her double life, Catalina is caught in a race against time, where failure could mean not just her downfall but the obliteration of the very idea of superheroes.

 

Legend of the Crimson Blaze catapults readers into a riveting narrative of resilience, betrayal, and the birth of a legend. Fans of Marvel's Black Widow will find themselves captivated by this gripping origin story, where the legacy of Catamount, the Crimson Blaze, begins.

 

Seize your chance to witness the dawn of the superhero age. This is the second book of The Superhero Age series, enriching the expansive Spekter Superhero Universe with its fiery heart and indomitable spirit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Purple Spekter™ LLP Press
• Release date: Nov 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223144267

Damien Benoit-Ledoux

Damien Benoit-Ledoux is an author and freelance editor. His mind is a magical and nerdy place where fantastic heroes defend amazing worlds from dangerous villains who run amuck in an epic struggle to take over the universe. Recently, the brightest and best from this colorful cast of characters have made their way into notes, plots, stories, and novels for you to read and enjoy. Damien strongly believes the real world we live in should be a place where LGBTQ equality and respect are second nature and never questioned. When he's not working or spending time with his husband, their son, and their dog, Damien weaves this philosophy into the exciting lives of his characters and the fantastic space battles and romances they endure so they'll stop taking over his dreams at night. And finally, he wants you to remember a very important thing: No matter how bad your day is at work, it’s always important to be grateful that you don’t work for a Sith Lord.

Book preview

Legend of the Crimson Blaze

Book 2 of the Superhero Age Series

Damien Benoit-Ledoux

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DBL Books / Purple Spekter™ LLP | Press

LEGEND OF THE CRIMSON BLAZE

The Superhero Age Series

Part of the Spekter Superhero Universe™

Copyright © 2023 Damien Benoit-Ledoux of Purple Spekter™ LLP | Press

All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior consent of the Author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

Work of Fiction

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Contents

Dedication

Foreword

PART I • BATTLEFIELDS

1.Attack of the Ghetto Battleships

2.You Sunk My Battleship

3.The Crimson Dossier

PART II • CATAPULT

4.The Death of First Lieutenant Catalina Hernandez

5.A Series of Unfortunate Events

6.Hell Hath No Fury

7.Mission Accomplished

PART III • EXPECTATIONS

8.Life in the Green Mountains

9.Finding Peace

10.Securing the Future

11.Ghosts in the Green Mountains

12.The New Deal

PART IV • GANGSTA’S PARADISE

13.That Good 'Ole Ranalli Life

14.The First Attack

15.Infiltration

16.Terror in the Night

17.Awkward

18.The Second Attack

19.Seduction

PART V • CRIMSON BLAZE

20.Relentless Attacks

21.It's Them or Us

22.The Fire in Her Eyes

23.Two Steps Ahead

24.Change of Plans

25.The Mafia's Last Word

26.Davy Jones's Locker

27.A Woman Scorned

28.Moving On

Epilogue

Post-Credit Scene

Before You Go

Buy Direct

Online Bonus Content

Spekter Superhero Universe™ Timeline

Acknowledgements

About the Author

To the one and only Don Ranalli.

Foreword

On the Era

The 1960s were an interesting decade. The height of the Cold War after the Cuban Missile Crisis created Global panic, the sexual revolution exploded, the modern civil rights movement had just ended in America, and in Rome, the concluded Second Vatican Council would shake up and drastically change the Roman Catholic Church over the next 10 years and beyond.

Most of this novel takes place in 1965, 1966, and 1967. I wasn’t alive then, so I conducted research to understand how people lived and interacted with each other. I discovered it wasn’t always pretty.

That said, women in the developed western world were unfairly treated, patronized, and talked down to, to name a few inequities. While they were present in the workforce and business world, they held subservient positions without power or authority.

In the interest of remaining faithful to the era, though cringeworthy, some of the male characters do not respect or treat women with 21st-century standards. I thought you should know that before reading this book.

PART I • BATTLEFIELDS

Present Day • Ana María García

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Apple Music | Spotify

Check out Battlefields from the 2WEI album Escape Velocity.

Chapter 1

Attack of the Ghetto Battleships

Present day • New York City, New York

Y ou should answer that, Blue Spekter. It might be a national emergency, Katie said. Katie was a wide-eyed eight-year-old with leukemia, one of several children Blue Spekter was visiting with that day in the cancer unit of the Mount Sinai Kravis Children’s Hospital.

His phone had vibrated several times already, but he had ignored it to be present with the children. Now it vibrated again in the front pocket of his blue supersuit, daring him to ignore it once more.

Yeah, it might be the STF, eleven-year-old Billy added, excitedly clapping his hands. He referred to the Superhuman Task Force, a new division of the United States Department of Homeland Security. The President had created the STF after the emergence of superhumans like Blue Spekter and the unpleasant awareness that the villain, Nightmare, could create more evil superhumans.

Maybe they have a secret mission for you! a third child, Rory, chimed in.

Maybe you can save the world again! Billy added.

Blue Spekter grinned, appreciating Billy’s innocence. He looked around the circle of hairless kids sitting with him. Okay, okay, I’ll check it out.

Or maybe it’s your boyfriend, one girl—Miranda—chimed in, batting her eyelashes.

Blue Spekter couldn’t hide the smile that grew on his face, and the children giggled as he fished out his phone. His mouth fell open when he read the words STF Emergency on the screen. Actually, it is the STF, Blue Spekter said with a smile.

I knew it! Billy said, raising his hands above his head in excitement.

One sec, guys. He walked to the corner and spoke in a low voice, This is Blue Spekter.

Blue Spekter, it’s Director Potter. We have a bit of a situation; the navy urgently requests your help.

Um, the navy? What’s up? he asked, leaning against the cool glass.

Where are you right now?

New York City, at the Sinai children’s hospital.

Shit.

Blue Spekter glanced over his shoulder and winked at the smiling children. Where do you need me to be? You know I can be anywhere on the planet in minutes.

Boston Harbor.

Oh, so one or two minutes, then. Why?

Several suspicious and nonresponsive cargo ships don’t check out and could be trouble. The Coast Guard is too far out, and our naval interceptor ships won’t reach the cargo vessels before they enter the harbor.

And nobody saw them coming? Don’t you have radar or something?

Potter cleared his throat. No one saw them coming.

Blue Spekter smirked. Wow, okay. Um, don’t cargo vessels belong in the harbor, though?

Sure, but normally ships respond to radio or satellite communication. Right now, we’re tracking three ships in delta formation, and they are not responding to any communication requests. We’re scrambling a surveillance drone, but it’s taking Hanscom Air Force Base a little too long, and people are nervous. Many people could be at risk in Boston. You’ll probably pass some scrambled fighters from Westover Air Reserve on your way up, though.

So, what you’re saying is if this was a serious threat, we couldn’t respond fast enough?

That’s not what I’m saying at all. Believe me, someone’s going to get their ass chewed out for this one.

What do you need me to do?

The navy requests you fly out there, check it out, and report back. It might be nothing, but the unusual radio silence has some folks on edge. You can get there faster than we can.

I’ll say my goodbyes and be on my way.

Thanks. We’ll make it up to the kids, I promise.

Blue Spekter slipped his phone into his front pocket and turned around. With extended arms and a cheerful smile, he said, Sorry, kids, you were right. Duty calls.

What’s going on? Rory asked, leaning forward. His eyes lit up with excitement.

Well, there are some cargo ships approaching Boston Harbor that might need some help. It’s probably nothing, but they want me to check it out. You may see it on the news if it is something serious.

That sounds boring, Katie said, shaking her head.

Hopefully, you’re right. Anyway, I gotta run. I mean fly.

Will you fly past the window, please? Terrance asked.

Blue Spekter glanced outside and got his bearings. Sure thing. See you in a few seconds. And thanks for letting me visit you!

Bye, Blue Spekter, they shouted, waving goodbye as he left.

After briefly hovering to wave goodbye to the kids through the window, Blue Spekter rocketed north to Boston. When he cleared the New York City limits, he poured on the speed and broke the sound barrier twice in rapid succession. His eyes and body blazed with bright blue light that streaked behind him. He grinned and flew low and fast over the ocean, the cool air whistling past him as he sped up.

Thirty seconds later, he spotted, then passed, a quartet of low-flying, supersonic F-22 Raptors. He waved and shouted, Slowpokes! as he rocketed by.

Less than a minute later, he decelerated and soared high over the harbor, searching for the cargo ships. When he saw nothing, he climbed higher and flew due east out of Massachusetts Bay. Moments later, he spotted the three rogue ships traveling in formation and crossing Hingham Harbor, just southwest of the Boston Light and Great Brewster Island. The visible wakes behind them suggested they were moving fast.

Wow, they got really close without being spotted. Blue Spekter looked out at the vast blue ocean beyond the harbor islands and noted the number of cargo and containerships coming, going, or parked in wait. He slowed his approach and tapped his earcomm—something he had learned to wear whenever he donned his superhero uniform—and waited for it to connect. He forgot he had turned it off during his visit to the children’s hospital.

It’s about time you come online, the frustrated director’s voice announced in his ear.

Blue Spekter smirked. Sorry about that. Hey, I see your silent-running cargo ships.

Blue, could you turn on the video feed from the headset camera we gave you? Potter asked.

Sorry, I didn’t bring it. This was a fun trip for the kids, remember? A moment of silence passed, and Blue Spekter winced. In his mind, he could see Potter frowning at him.

All right, please describe what you see.

Sure. There are three ships, just like you said, and two submarines following them in. You didn’t tell me the navy was already tailing them.

Two submarines? Would someone verify that with naval command, please? Director Potter yelled at someone in the STF operations center beneath Hangar 227. Then he spoke to Blue Spekter again, forgetting to use the superhero’s codename during a mission. What’s on the ships, Quinn?

He flew a little closer and let his super vision wash over the first cargo ship. Containers, crewmen, and a bunch of things covered up with what looks like cargo netting. No wait, it’s navy camouflage.

Come again? Potter’s voice said. By the way, you’re now on the loudspeakers in STF operations, and we’re virtually connected to our navy and air force liaison officers. Tell us what you see again, please.

Hi, everyone. I’m studying the lead ship. I see long and half-length steel containers, lots of crewmen, and a bunch of things covered up with blue-and-gray camouflage. The other ships have the same setup. But you know, I remember seeing pictures of ships like this. Aren’t the containers supposed to be stacked lengthwise and in rows? Oh, uh, the two rear ships have turned a little. They are steering the north one toward Logan and the south ship to Dorchester, but the central one is still headed to Boston.

Uh… sure. Blue Spekter, please confirm the container arrangement.

They have distributed them along the edges of the ship in two rows. Kinda reminds me of a castle turret.

A castle turret? Potter echoed, sounding confused. Do you mean crenellations?

Uh, that’s a big word, Director. Maybe?

Blue Spekter, this is Vice Admiral Jonas Carmichael, U.S. Navy. Can you identify the objects under the camouflage?

Uh, hi. Blue Spekter hovered closer to the ship. I’ll try. The crew is uncovering some of them now. They’re vehicles of some sort.

How many wheels? Vice Admiral Carmichael asked.

Blue Spekter studied the partially obstructed vehicles as he slowly circled the vessels from a safe distance and altitude. Well, that’s weird. There aren’t any wheels. I see tracks, like a bulldozer’s. Wait a minute. Holy crap, they’re… oh my gosh, those are tanks! Shit! The ships have tanks, and they’re—

A blunt object slammed into Blue Spekter’s chest and exploded, knocking him back with a grunt and sending him into a wild tailspin.

Blue Spekter, come in. Are you okay? What was that? Potter asked.

They fucking shot me with a tank! Blue Spekter said, quickly regaining control of his flight. Black poofs of smoke popped and exploded around him. He immediately recognized what they were doing, having seen this before in movies and on television. They’re shooting at me with antiaircraft rounds. Bastards! He projected a force field in front of him that absorbed and deflected whatever they fired at him. They are not cargo ships, they’re ghetto battleships!

Mercenaries? the vice admiral asked.

How the hell would I know? You want me to ask?

Actually—

Suddenly, several flashes of light erupted from the deck of the first cargo ship. The unmistakable sound of tank cannons firing reached his ears two seconds later, but nothing smashed into his force field.

Oh no. He whipped around and looked in horror at the Boston coastline several miles away.

Blue Spekter, what’s going on? What do you see?

He cast his gaze back to the cargo ships and saw the crew had pulled away most of the camouflage, transforming the ships into ghetto warships.

But what had they fired at?

The strangely arranged containers around the decks of the ships indeed resembled castle crenellations. Each opening sported a tank and its lethal cannon. Behind the first row and elevated slightly, also strategically protected by containers, sat a second ring of tanks.

The tanks fired at something! Blue Spekter shouted. I need Helion and Catamount now!

Blue Spekter, listen to me, Potter implored. The cargo ships hold a lot of fuel. The last thing we need is an oil spill or some other catastrophic chemical contagion destroying the ecosystem of the harbor. Try not to wreck the ships.

Understood. I’ll do my best.

We’re contacting Helion and Catamount. Will keep you posted. Do you want Arcbright to join you?

No, he’s not ready, and I don’t have time to babysit him. He’ll only get himself killed out here.

All right, we’ll bench Arcbright for this one.

Something on land near Logan Airport exploded, and two more explosions quickly followed as the tank rounds found their targets near the populated waterfront of the city. With his super hearing, he heard people screaming in panic, unsure of what was going on but most likely not realizing they were under attack.

Contact! Blue Spekter shouted as the antiaircraft rounds intensified around him. Those tanks fired at the city. People are freaking out. It’s only a matter of time before the trailing cargo ships fire at something, and there’s a lot of land much closer than Boston.

Understood, Blue Spekter, Potter shouted. Crap, I’m losing precious time. There are way more tanks that can fire at any second, and—

Without warning, another salvo of cannon fire tore through the quiet skies, and moments later, those rounds found their targets on land. More screaming, more chaos, and more confusion ensued.

Blue Spekter helplessly watched, unsure of how to stop the cannon fire. There’s no way I can chase them all. They’re too fast. Maybe I can project a massive force field or something? Contain the cannon fire?

The planes on the ground at Logan Airport taxied away from the ocean runways, but they were big and slow-moving targets that a focused or lucky shot could destroy. A new, distant yet familiar, sound reached his ears, thanks to his super hearing. Oh shit, not now.

He spun around and saw a massive A380 airliner looming in the distance. Its flight path to Logan would bring it within range of the antiaircraft guns.

He touched his earcomm and shouted, You need to divert all air traffic from Logan. They’re going to shoot down the landing and departing airplanes! There’s a big one coming in now.

Understood, Blue Spekter. The air force is working on it, Potter announced. We’re also ordering the incoming Raptors to make a high-altitude reconnaissance pass while you figure out how to disable the antiaircraft weapons.

Blue Spekter dashed toward the massive A380 just as the nearest ghetto battleship started firing at it. He projected a large force field and protected the plane, which immediately began a labored but tight turn away from the scene. With his super vision, he noted which mounted cannons were firing the antiaircraft rounds. Once they stopped and the A380 was safely flying away, Blue Spekter dove and flew to the closest cargo ship, blue light streaking behind him. The antiaircraft flak pummeled him, but now that he expected it, it didn’t faze him in the least.

He executed an impressive power landing that smashed one tank and would’ve made crowds cheer. The only response he received was the angry charge of crewmen, their rifles unleashing a barrage of unusually sharp armor-piercing bullets. Momentarily ignoring the gunmen, he turned his attention to the closest antiaircraft cannon. He reached out with both hands, pulled the moisture from the atmosphere and the sea, and encased the entire thing in several feet of ice.

The gunmen and other crewmen swore at him, but they weren’t speaking or swearing in English. At first glance, they all appeared to be of Middle Eastern descent, but their language sounded too clipped to be Arabic. His first impulse was to assume The Order had something to do with the unexpected and unprovoked attack, but he couldn’t prove it.

Blue Spekter, Potter said, Helion and Catamount are almost there. I am sure you’re trying to disable the cannons, but now I need you to fly up. I need you to confirm you can see two submarines beneath the surface. We have to rule out shadows.

Sure thing, Blue Spekter said, saluting to the confused criminals who hurriedly reloaded their rifles. He leaped into the air and soared several thousand feet above the ghetto battleships. He looked down and once again saw the unmistakable shape of submarines. Two submarines confirmed, Potter. They seem to have slowed down and are following the center ship to the city.

Understood, Blue Spekter. Those are not U.S. submarines. Repeat, the submarines do not belong to the navy, and we must consider them hostile. We will assume they have tactical nuclear weapons as a worst-case scenario and the threat level is high.

Are you fucking shitting me? Blue Spekter exclaimed, his mouth dropping open. His stomach sank to his toes. A nuclear strike in Boston would kill several million, not to mention wherever else they could shoot at—like New York City or Washington, DC. I’ll have to keep my eyes on those submarines and make sure they can’t fire any missiles, cuz I do not know what a real nuclear missile looks like.

We do not know who or what we’re dealing with at the moment.

I do, and I think they’re terrorists. When I took out one of their antiaircraft cannons, they swore at me with what sounded like, well I’m not really sure. They kinda look like the terrorists you see on television—the Taliban kind—but dressed for the ocean or something.

Understood. Uh… I appreciate the descriptive feedback.

Blue Spekter smirked. To his left, the F-22 Raptors approached and ascended as they sped by, probably providing a military assessment of the situation. To his right, he sensed Helion approaching. He looked down at the ships again and realized he needed Helion and his pyro- and telekinesis to take out the antiaircraft cannons while he dealt with the submarines until Catamount arrived.

His eyes studied the crenelations and the strategic placement of the tanks and antiaircraft cannons. Then an idea struck him.

A bright yellow-orange glow abruptly stopped in front of him. Helion—his best friend Blake—saluted and asked, What can I do?

See all those tanks and mounted cannons on the ships?

Yup. Sweet Jesus, they aren’t fooling around.

I need you to pull a Daenerys and Drogon the shit out of all the scorpions while I deal with the two submarines.

Seriously? Helion asked with a smile. He interlaced his fingers and cracked his knuckles.

Blue Spekter smiled back. Dracarys.

Chapter 2

You Sunk My Battleship

Blue Spekter and Helion looked left as Catamount triggered their proximity sense. The howl of wind and the dazzling pink streak of power behind her faded as she rapidly decelerated, her eyes bright pink.

I wouldn’t do that, she flatly stated, ever the pragmatist. She hovered near them, surveying the situation.

Blue Spekter folded his arms across his chest. Really? You can cross the Atlantic in less than fifteen minutes, and you take this long to get here? His tone conveyed his irritation with her.

Catamount glared at him. I was at a party, and my phone was in my purse.

You guys mind tabling this argument? Helion asked, pointing at one of the surfacing submarines.

Oh shit, Blue Spekter muttered.

Catamount barked orders. Helion, use your telekinesis to bend, break, and destroy the mounted cannons first on that cargo ship. Then focus on the tanks. I’ll disable its engines. We don’t want them getting any closer to the harbor, and we want to avoid an ecological disaster. Blue, you disable the submarines. Start with the one that’s surfacing. If it launches a missile, we immediately stop what we’re doing and destroy the missile.

What if it’s nuclear? Blue Spekter asked, panic striking. I don’t think we can survive—

If you disable it at launch, the warhead won’t be armed. But if the warhead finds its target, you best not be near it. Move out! The three superheroes saluted and separated to focus on their parts of the battle.

Helion, his eyes and body glowing bright yellow and orange, dove and wickedly grinned. Around him, black poofs of smoke popped and exploded, so he sped up. You will not take me out with that crap, he shouted at the warships. Reaching out with his telekinesis, he felt the incoming antiaircraft rounds rushing toward him. Using his powers, he cleared a path and flew to the first ship. At the last second, he swung his legs down and landed on one of the mounted cannons, smashing it to pieces. Igniting and transmuting his body into flame, he dashed back and forth, crashing through containers and smashing mounted cannons, successfully adding to the growing fear and chaos on the lead ship.

Catamount dove straight down and submerged into the cold harbor, then dashed through the churning ocean until she saw the spinning propellers of the lead ship. But as she approached, she paused, horrified at what else she saw.

Blue Spekter descended to the surfacing submarine and briefly circled it. The rear of the conning tower had wings, but the thin neck of the conning tower seemed vulnerable to attack. If this submarine submerges when the navy gets here, it might get away. I can’t let that happen.

He saw no open hatches, which, he hoped, meant they weren’t preparing to fire any missiles. He ascended and then flew away from the submarine. Coming to a stop and spinning around, he extended his arms and dove at the conning tower. The top hatch opened, and a surprised sailor in an unmarked black uniform stared at him, but it was too late. Blue Spekter smashed through the conning tower, tearing it in half and rendering the boat insubmersible. Chunks of metal and the screaming sailor exploded into the air, but Blue Spekter knew he’d safely splash into the ocean. After swinging up and flying a loop, Blue Spekter descended into the torn conning tower and landed in the middle of the control room.

On the cargo ship deck, Helion laughed as the crewmen fired at him, desperate to regain control of the situation. Their bullets stung like hell, so he assumed these terrorists were better armed than the U.S. military. The forward tanks he hadn’t smashed yet continued to fire at Boston, and now the tanks on the other warships had fired at their targets too. Shit, there are too many of them. What the hell is Catamount doing?

Still in shock, Catamount watched the ship move away, the tons of explosives strapped to its hull below the waterline a sure sign that at any