Showcase: Steel, the Indestructible Man

Detroit Shakedown

by Martin Maenza

A pair walked about the main meeting room, carefully avoiding the occasional empty soda can and discarded empty pizza boxes.

The tall man, a muscular frame covered by a long-sleeve white T-shirt and jeans, had red hair.

The woman with brown skin and beaded brown hair, slightly shorter and well proportioned, wore a beige blouse and a slightly darker skirt.

Hank Heywood III brushed his hand gently across the surface steel table as he watched the woman look about, taking everything in. He rubbed his fingers together to get rid of the excess dust built up on them.

“Well?” he eventually broke the silence. “Is this helping any?” His voice carried a deep concern and genuine quality to it.

The beautiful African-American woman had stopped to stare at a photo on the wall. It was of a group of costumed individuals: a woman in green with green hair, a woman in blue and white with white hair, a man in a tuxedo and yellow turban, another man in an orange costume with a blue jacket, and in the middle a man in green and black with a bowl haircut.

“Hmmm,” Mari Macabe frowned. “This picture… it’s not right. Wasn’t there another here?”

Hank Heywood beamed. “You’re right!” he said. “You remember!”

Mari nodded. It had been a few months since she washed up on the coast of China, hardly even knowing her own name much less anything of her past. It was only through the dedication of J’Onn and others in the Justice League that she had been able to slowly piece together the fragments of her former life. She turned to the young man. Even Hank has been so helpful, she thought to herself.

“It has been helpful coming here,” the woman said.

“Good,” Hank said. “And maybe the other stuff will…”

“What the hell is going on here?” a loud voice boomed, cutting the young man off. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed was the man from the photograph in green and black uniform. The lantern symbol on the stylized jacket was a dead giveaway.

“Hello, Gardner,” Hank Heywood said with a slight frown and little enthusiasm.

“Save the pleasantries for someone who cares, kid!” Guy Gardner said as he crossed the room in three long strides. “I asked what’s going on here, and I don’t like asking twice.” His face was close to Hank’s attempting to intimidate the young man.

Hank didn’t need his steel enforced skeleton to stand up to the other hero; he wasn’t about to back down. “Relax,” he said coolly. “We’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes.”

Guy pursed his lip and glared at Hank. “Yeah? Well how’d you get in here to begin with? You Leaguers vacated this place long ago. It’s Conglomerate turf now!”

“I may have leased it to Thomas Kord, who in turn is letting you all use it,” Hank explained, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t have the right to retrieve stuff that is stored here.” He pulled out a card and flicked it under Guy’s chin. “Just remember, all this stuff – the bunker, the systems, everything – were built by my grandfather, Hank Heywood I.”

Mari winced. Something, something about that name bothered her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, the memory too elusive or perhaps too painful.

“Oh yeah?” Guy countered.

“Yeah! You just remember that you and your friends are renters here,” Hank said firmly. “Speaking of, where are your friends?” He glanced about mockingly. “Didn’t see any of them? Don’t tell me the rumors of your team breaking up are true?” He turned back to Guy. “That’d be a real shame now.”

Guy was about to launch into a tirade but stopped himself. “I don’t need to answer to you!” he said with a wave of his hand as he turned about suddenly. “Just don’t go taking stuff that doesn’t belong to you!”

“We won’t,” a voice came from the other doorway. A well build African-American man with a thin mustache and slightly graying beard was standing here, holding a large cardboard box in his hands. The bald man moved over to the table where he set the box down.

“Hey! Don’t make a mess of the place, Gunn!” Guy barked.

“I can’t do any worse than you have, Gardner!” Dale Gunn shot back. “Back when I was in charge of operations here, everything was spic and span, running like a well-oiled machine.”

The Green Lantern paid him no mind, leaving the room to head for his personal quarters instead.

Dale turned to Hank. “Just going down to the basement and back, I spotted a half dozen things that could use some attention.”

Hank frowned. “Maybe we should take the place back,” he said, “to preserve the investment.”

Dale put his hand on Hank’s shoulder. The young man was like a son to him, having practically raised the lad himself. He was always proud to see Hank taking some responsibility for things. “Don’t worry,” the dark skinned man said. “I’m just downtown. I’ll see if I can work some time into my schedule to drop in and take care of a few things here.”

“That’d be great,” Hank said.

Dale smiled. “Good thing I know the boss well.” He gave the young man a wink.

Hank nodded. Dale was a good man. He already did so much for him, watching over Heywood Industries and insuring the company investments were sound. “I appreciate that,” he said.

Mari cleared her throat. Both men turned. “I don’t mean to break up your heartfelt moment,” the woman said, “but would that be the stuff?”

“Indeed,” Dale said. He put one hand underneath the top flap and popped open the top of the box. “There you go.” He slid the box towards her, then he and Hank stepped back.

They watched as Mari slowly folded back the top flaps and began to look through the items in the box. There were photographs on top, loose. The young women flipped through them one by one, slowly. Ones of herself with J’Onn, and with Zatanna. One of Hank and Paco arguing. One of the quiet girl named Gypsy. A tear formed in the corner of her eye as she thought of those last two. It felt right to be sad, though she wasn’t completely sure why.

She put those aside, wiped the tear away and continued. Next was a photograph, framed, of herself at some gala. She was dressed to the nines. On the back was taped a newspaper clipping with the headline “Model Newcomer Awarded”. She thought to herself, another part of my life I need to reclaim…

Next in the box was some dark wood sculptures, African art. And beneath that were a number of pieces of clothing, carefully folded and stored with the rest of the items. All her personal affects. All things she had left behind, but for no longer.

After a few moments, Mari started to put the items back in the box.

“Do those help?” Hank asked.

“Yes,” she said softly as put things back. “They do. Thank you.”

“Let me help with the box,” Dale offered.

Hank turned and noticed the clock on the wall. “Oh man!” he exclaimed. “Is it five already?”

Dale checked the watch on his wrist. “Yes,” he said. “You know, Hank, you really should wear a watch.”

“I know, I know,” the red haired youth said as he hurried past. “I forgot I was supposed to meet someone!” He turned to his old, dear friend. “Dale, could you do me a favor? Would it be too much trouble if you’d take Mari to dinner? I’ll be back later to help her with her stuff.”

Dale turned to the beautiful woman and smiled. “No trouble at all,” he said. “It would be my pleasure. Assuming, of course, that Mari is OK with it.”

Mari couldn’t help but notice the man’s charms. “Yes,” she smiled. “That would be fine.”

“Thanks, guys!” Hank said as he was already out the door.
***

 

Man, oh man, oh man! Hank Heywood thought as his powerful legs propelled him down the sidewalk. I know it’s not far but still!

He darted out into the middle of the street to cross.

A car horn sounded.

He turned to see an approaching vehicle, trying to stop. The look on the driver’s face was that of fear he wouldn’t be able to stop in time. The squeal the tires were starting to make enforced that conclusion.

Instinctively, Hank Heywood sprang into the air, leaping up and over twenty feet to safety. “Nice, Hank,” he chastised himself. “Nothing like endangering others when you screw up yourself.”

His actions started to draw some attention from folks on the street and in the traffic. He noticed them staring. Hank sort of half-waved and started off on his way again.

He cut about the corner and turned onto Cameron Street. He half-paused to take it all in. The old neighborhood hasn’t changed, he thought to himself. I hope that’s a good sign. As he started to run past Mr. Papagaulos’ grocery store, he heard the sound of a loud crash followed by an alarm going off a few blocks over.

“Nuts!” Hank cursed.

Only a hundred yards from his destination, he paused to look at one of the residents and then glanced to where the alarm had sounded. No contest! He knew where his duty lay. As he darted off towards the sound of the alarm and ducked into a nearby alleyway. Pulling off his clothes, he revealed a colorful blue and red costume underneath.
***

 

A bald, well built black young man with a long, flat-edged metal weapon finished prying the large device out of the side of the brick wall. The ATM machine hit the pavement hard. “Come on! Come on!” he shouted over the loud alarm. “Get it on the truck!”

Three other guys with Skull-logos on the back of their matching vests nodded and hoisted the heavy machine on to the back of a flatbed vehicle. “What’ll you think we’ll get?” asked one of the guys.

“They just loaded it up with money earlier,” the other said as he started to strap down the prize. “I know! I’ve been watchin’!”

“We’ll get nothing if you two keep flappin’ your yaps!” Crowbar yelled from the curb.

“You’ll get nothing anyway!” a voice boomed as its owner leapt onto the scene.

Crowbar whirled around. “Steel!”

The masked red-haired hero lunged forward with a punch. “Aw, you remembered!”

The black youth spun up his weapon and parried the blow. The sound of metal on metal clanged in the air. “Damn it!” the criminal cursed. “A guy can’t commit crimes in his own ‘hood without runnin’ up on you Justice Leaguers!” He spun his weapon around to strike Steel.

The hero blocked it with his forearm. “Figured a guy like you would learn his lesson,” Steel said. He punched but was blocked. “Didn’t Hawkman and Green Arrow round you up just this Spring?”

“I got out!” Crowbar countered.

“Should have laid low!” Steel grabbed for the weapon. He tried to wrestle it from the criminal’s hands, but the man was strong.

“Slice! Icepick! Get ‘em!” Crowbar grunted. The two Skulls leapt off the truck, brandishing weapons.

Steel noticed they weren’t run of the mill blades but wasn’t worried. He shoved Crowbar and his weapon aside long enough to spin around. “Take your best shot, boys!”

Slice sliced and Icepick jabbed as hard as they could. While they managed to only tear at the hero’s costume, they failed to pierce his enforced skin.

Steel shook his head. “Now you’ve gone and ruined my clothes! Not nice!” He swung back his fist and knocked them both back with a sweeping punch. He watched with satisfaction as the weapons and the two gang members clattered to the ground.

The sound of the roaring truck engine snapped his attention back in focus. Steel turned to see the truck pulling away fast.

“So long, loser!” Crowbar called from atop the truck. With one hand he held fast to the secured ATM machine, he waved his weapon defiantly at the hero.

Steel grimaced. “No you don’t!” He started to sprint after the fleeing vehicle and then launched himself into the air.

Crowbar frowned as the projectile of a man drew closer. He wound back his weapon and waited. “I learned a thing or two from my old Cadre teammate Fastball,” he said. “And one was to wait for the pitch!” After a pause, he swung his metal weapon about.

The weapon connected to Steel’s gut.

The hero flipped over the bar and tumbled onto the back end of the fast moving truck. “Ooof!” Steel grunted. He jerked his head about as he prepared to rise, noticing that Crowbar was bearing down on him menacingly. “Oh, this could hurt…”

“You’re down, hero!” Crowbar announced as he raised the weapon into the air fast. “And I’m gonna put you out, for good!”

Suddenly, the truck jerked roughly, coming to an abrupt stop!

The bonds holding the ATM snapped; the box slid forward and smacked right into Crowbar. “Uggghh!” he groaned as it slammed him in the back.

Steel was thrown forward against the cab and was able to see what was happening to his attacker. He also realized what would happen next!

Got…to…move…! he thought. He rolled to the left with barely a second to spare; the runaway ATM managed to slam into the back of the cab right where Steel had been lying.

“…help…” Crowbar groaned, pinned between the metal.

Steel wanted to laugh.

Just then, the cab door opened. The driver jumped down and started to run.

“Hey!” Steel shouted, realizing he had a runner.

“Relax,” a female voice called out. “I got him!”

Steel stood up and looked over the cab to the street. There he saw the driver knocked to the ground by an unseen force. Turning his head, Steel traced back to where the female voice had come.

There, standing confidently in the street before the stopped truck, was a costumed woman. She wore black boots and yellow, billowy pants. Her shapely torso was covered in a plunging necked halter top of various colored stripes in a vertical, angular pattern. About her neck was a red bandana. Her long black hair framed her beautiful face, but her eyes were covered by dark blue stylized glasses.

The costume design was not lost on the hero at all. This woman, he thought, she looks like… Vibe!

The costumed woman put her green gloved hands on her shapely hips. Just above the gloves, on her forearms, she wore a matching pair of gauntlets. “What, ‘chu don’t know how to say ‘thank you’? Or do you like to stand there lookin’ slack-jawed and stupid?”

“Vibe?” Steel asked aloud.

The woman smiled, raised her hand and wagged one finger at him. “Uh uh uh,” she said in a sassy tone. “Can’t ‘chu see I’m all woman?”

“Who are you?” Steel asked, jumping down from the truck.

The woman smiled. “Call me ‘Vibra’, a’right,” she said. Suddenly, the sound of police sirens could be heard approaching. “Sounds like the police are comin’. Be a dear and give ‘em a statement, a’right.”

And with that the costumed woman ran off.

Steel wanted to pursue her, but he didn’t want to leave the defeated crooks until the police arrived. Instead, he turned and examined the damaged truck. The front hood was caved in, no doubt from hitting some kind of barrier or something. The metal was torn and twisted, smashed.

He glanced down the street to where the costumed woman had vanished. “Hmmm,” Steel pondered softly as he rubbed his chin.
***

 

About twenty minutes later, after making statements and insuring the criminals were hauled off to jail, Steel made his way back up the street and changed back into Hank Heywood. A few minutes after that, he was standing in the family room of one of the tenement homes off of Cameron Street.

“It’s so good to see you again,” a dark haired Hispanic woman in her fifties said as she wiped her hands on her apron. “You look good. You eating well?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hank said politely.

“We’re about to sit down for supper in a bit,” the woman said. “I can set another plate.”

“No, ma’am,” the young man said politely. “We’re going out.” He glanced around the room. “Is she ready, Mrs. Ramone?”

“I’ll check. Rosa!” the woman yelled at the bottom of the stairwell. “Rosa! Hank’s here!”

From upstairs came a voice yelling from behind a closed door. “I’m just doing my make-up, mama! Can you send him up?”

Hank pretended not to hear it.

Mrs. Ramone turned to him with a smile. “She’s just doing her make-up. You can go up if you’d like.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Hank said with an appreciative nod. He took the rail and carefully walked up the old wooden steps that were covered with a tacked down brown carpet. When he reached the top of the stairs, he turned left down the hallway to where the voice came from.

A couple of the younger Ramone kids ran by. Hank gave them all nods and winks as they passed and greeted him. He then stood before one of the closed doors, raised his hand and knocked gently.

“Come in,” called a voice from the other side.

Hank reached for the knob, turned it and stepped into the room.

There at the small vanity mirror on top of the desk was a dark haired young woman of nineteen years of age. “I’ll be ready in a minute,” Rosa Ramone said, applying some powder to her cheek. “Sorry I’m running late.”

“Not a problem,” Hank said, watching her carefully. “I was running late myself.”

“You were?” she said. She watched him in the mirror, smiled and then reached for the eyeliner.

“Yes.”

“We’re just going to dinner, right?” she said. “Then we can just talk and catch up. Its been so long since you called. I thought you forgot all about me.”

“How could I forget?” he said, glancing about the room. Her closet door was ajar, a black boot visible on the floor under a pile of other things. And was that a hint of red and a hint of yellow at the bottom of the pile?

“So,” Hank said, crossing his arms, “you were running late… from work?”

“Yeah,” she said, raising her eye to apply the mascara. “Things were crazy at the grocery.”

Hank nodded. “I bet. Gets kind of crazy around here, huh?”

“Well, you know…”

“I guess,” Hank said. Then he stood up and moved closer. “Not like I’m ‘slack-jawed and stupid’, a’right.” He gave her a knowing grin.

Rosa bit her lip. “Why whatever do you mean?” she said, a slight blush to her cheeks.

“I know all about Vibra,” he whispered in her ear.

Rosa just smiled and let out a little giggle.
***

 

At Deleano’s, a candle lit restaurant in the downtown area, Dale Gunn and Mari Macabe were finishing their main courses. “How was the linguini?” the man asked of his dining companion.

“It was good,” Mari said. “Its been awhile since I’ve had such a rich clam sauce.”

“Do you have room for desert?”

“I don’t know,” the woman replied. “I’ve been working lately to try and get myself back in shape.”

Dale smiled. “Your shape looks good to me.”

“Oh stop,” she said with a smile. They both chuckled. “Seriously, though, next week its back on a strict diet of salads. Especially if I plan to try and revive my modeling career.”

“Then, you deserve one last hurrah,” he said, grabbing the desert menu. “I know for a fact that they have a chocolate cheesecake here to die for.”

Across the way, another young couple entered the establishment. Mari noticed them and said, “That’s Hank. Who’s the girl with him?”

Dale turned to look. “I can’t tell for sure,” he said squinting his eyes. Still, he watched them with a careful eye. He noticed Hank slip the maitre d’ some money, and then the two were immediately shown to a table in the already crowded restaurant.

“Hank, this is so fancy,” Rosa said as he pulled out her chair. She sat down, and then he sat as well. “I’ve never been to a place like this before. I hope I’m not underdressed.”

“You look wonderful,” he replied. Then he leaned in closer and whispered. “Besides, this place isn’t nearly as pretentious as it would appear to be on the surface.” He leaned back. “And, I thought I would do something nice, especially since I’ve been really bad about getting back to town, and bad about seeing you.”

Rosa smiled. “You have been,” she agreed. “When you moved away after…” Her voice trailed off. He knew exactly what she meant by her voice and the sadness. She was referring to when her brother Paco went missing during the end of the Crisis. She shook her head. “Anyway, I really missed you.”

“Me too,” he said. “We didn’t have so much time together before. And then things got crazy with my grandfather disappearing and me inheriting his company, etc. I had a lot on my plate.”

“And you and the others moved away too,” Rosa said firmly. “That’s what hurt.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Hank said, knowing she was referring to the Justice League moving out of the Bunker and eventually back to their satellite headquarters. “I really didn’t have a say in any of that. Compared to the others, I was the rookie on the block.”

“Well, maybe that can change now,” Rosa said. She gave him a wink.

Hank looked at her oddly. “Huh?”

“You know,” she said, winking again. “Now that I can…” She made a little wiggling motion up and down with her fingers.

“Oh,” Hank said as if a lightbulb went off in his head. “Right. Speaking of, how do you… you know?” He wiggled his fingers in a similar manner.

“Unlike Paco, I don’t do that naturally,” Rosa explained. “I guess I was really feeling the loss of my brother. The whole neighborhood was. He was very well loved there, you know. He took care of things. He was more than just a street dancer. He was a protector.”

Hank nodded.

“Anyway it was just a couple months ago, around the time of my birthday. I received this package in the mail. Very strange. No return address.” Rosa took a sip of her water. “I was home alone at the time, so I opened it up. Turns out there were these bracelet like things inside with a typewritten note. It said, ‘make your brother proud’, and explained how to use them. Turns out with them, I can do…you know.”

Hank let out a pondering sound. “Hmmm…”

“‘Hmmm’,” she mimiced him. “What’s with the ‘hmmm’?”

“Just ‘hmmm’,” Hank said. “Kind of funny that someone anonymous would give you something like that.”

Rosa frowned. “Why’s it so funny? Paco was known about the area. He never made it a secret of that. Heck, most of Cameron Street knew who most of you were, and you all only lived there for a few months!”

“I know, I know,” Hank said. “Its just, I don’t know, so out of the blue, you know.”

“Maybe,” Rosa said, “but what does it matter? I can be like Paco was. carry on his legacy. Join the League.”

Hank blinked. “Whoa, back up,” he said.

“What?”

“Join the League? Carry on his legacy? Are you serious?”

Rosa got all defensive. “What do you mean ‘am I serious’? Of course I’m serious! You saw what I did earlier. If it wasn’t for me, you might’ve ended up in a hospital or something. And those creeps definitely would’ve gotten away!”

“Rosa,” Hank said, glancing about. “Keep your voice down. You’re making a scene.”

“Well, you’re treating me like a child!” she exclaimed. “Who do you think you are tellin’ me what I can and can not do with my life?”

“I never said you couldn’t…”

“You asked if I was serious! You don’t think I’m serious?”

“But you’re not…” Hank said. “That is…”

“Well?”

“It’s not that easy,” Hank said with a sigh. “You can’t just…” He noticed they were drawing attention. He lowered his voice and leaned in closer to her. “You can’t just jump right into this. There’s a lot to consider. And the League…” He shook his head. “I don’t know…”

“You don’t think I’m good enough?” Rosa exclaimed. “My brother was good enough.”

“Well, things were different a few years ago…”

“Oh!” Rosa fumed. “I see!” She stood up from the table indignantly.

“Rosa, sit down,” Hank begged. “Please.”

“No!” the brunette shook her head defiantly. “If you think I’m gonna go and beg you, forget it! You ain’t the only group around, you know. And I don’t have to go far to look.”

“You wouldn’t!” Hank protested.

Rosa glared at him. “Enjoy your dinner alone! I’m gone!” And with that, the young woman stormed out of the restaurant.

Hank felt as if all eyes were on him. There was some hushed whispers. He grabbed the menu in front of him, opened it up wide and tried to hide behind it. “Girls,” he muttered softly to himself.

Hank felt a tap on his shoulder “A problem?”

The young man turned around to see Dale Gunn standing there. “Dale? What are you…?” The man gestured to over his shoulder where Mari was sitting. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Wasn’t that…?” Dale started to ask.

“Yeah,” Hank said. “Paco’s sister Rosa.”

“She looked mad,” Dale said.

Hank looked longingly towards the door. “Yeah, I would say she definitely was.”

“Maybe you should go after her, son,” Dale advised.

Hank shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. That just might push her further.”

“You think?”

“We’ll just see if this blows over,” Hank said.
***

 

A few days later, Steel sat in front of one of the television monitors in the Justice League’s satellite orbiting 22,300 miles above the Earth. One of the cable news channels was rerunning a piece that made the young hero angry. With a low “grrrrrrrr”, he squeezed the cup he had been drinking from and shattered the hard plastic.

“What’s going on?” asked Black Canary who had just entered the room. “I was just doing some research when I heard your outburst.”

“Nothing!” Steel said as he bolted from his chair. “I need to make a call.”

The blonde heroine stepped over the monitor to see what had angered the young man so. On the screen was a reporter talking with Guy Gardner. A costumed brunette woman was standing next to him. “Say,” Canary said, “that girl with Guy, she looks a lot like Vibe…”
***

 

Heywood Industries in Detroit, in an office over looking the downtown area, Dale Gunn was on the phone. “Yes, Hank,” he said. “I saw the piece on the news earlier.”

Pause.

“No, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dale advised. “If you evict them from the Bunker, it’ll just make things worse. You said yourself that pushing her further was not a good idea.”

Pause.

Dale tried not to laugh. “Hank, I’ve had a bit more experience with women than you, and I still don’t always understand them. Look, just calm down and listen. I told you I would make time to check in on the place, and I will. I’ll free up some time tomorrow. I can use the excuse of watching out for your investments. At the same time, I can check up on Rosa for you, maybe get an idea what’s going on in her head. She’s probably just mad at you and is using this as a way to get back at you for hurting her feelings.”

Pause.

“Trust me on this, son,” Dale said. “I’ll give you a call after I’ve checked up on her, OK?”

Pause.

“Good. Talk to you then.” Dale Gunn then hung up the phone. The man stood up from his leather chair and walked over to the window. From his view, he could see the neighborhood where the Bunker was situated.

He stoked his silk tie. And thought to himself.

Hank, if I knew that sending those vibro-gauntlets to Rosa would have caused you all these problems, I never would have done it. I truly thought it was a good thing at the time.

He sighed to himself.

I guess we’ll just have to see where things go from here and hope they work out for the best for everyone involved.