When you’re jawing about story ideas with other authors, sometimes, you end up crossing the streams. That’s how a discussion of drone warfare, explosives, and superhero stories resulted in my brain sparking and kicking up this particular bit of weirdness. Let’s zoom in on an office high rise in Manhattan, and an office made up of equal parts old oak, chrome, and leather. There we find Lester Loveless, PR Manager for the League of Evil, taking a business call…
“No. No. NO. Listen to me, Linda.”
“My name is Aeroterror.”
“Whatever. I looked over your plan. Repeat after me: bombs are NOT sexy. They haven't been since the 70s. They are, say it with me, passé.”
“My weaponized drones will take out the UN during general session! Hundreds—no, THOUSANDS will die! How is that not, what did you say, 'sexy'?”
“Have you ever heard of the Weather Underground?”
“... who?”
“EXACTLY. Back in the 60s and 70s. Terrorist organization operating on US soil. You know what they did? They frickin' normalized bombings. Jack and Jill protestor were cooking up pipe bombs at home by the 80s. It wasn't a real protest if you didn't have something popping off. Style, baby. Fashion! You've got to move with the times. Besides, the UN?”
“What's wrong with bombing the UN? The death, the worldwide chaos—”
“Stop. Stop! Trust me. One, nobody important is in that building. It's for people to scream at each other. Two, if you did take it down, most of America and half the would would be cheering for you.”
“You are making the kidding of me.”
“Nope. That was Osama's mistake. He listened to some amateurs, and what did he get? He ticked of the US, that's what he got. Global war on terror, remember that? It took 'em twenty years to settle down. Is that what you want, Aero? The US spending twenty years hot for your body, and not in the good way?”
“So, what? Another, what is it, 'press conference'?”
“Nah. That's for politicians. You want up on the big screens? You want the news to be about you, twenty-four seven, for weeks? You gonna listen to what I'm saying here, really listen?”
“Fine. I am paying, I listen. What do you say?”
“Single drone. Nerve agent on the needle.”
“And I use this to what, take out the president of the UN?”
“Nope. It'll take some timing and some planning, but we'll take out some schlub on the floor. An aide or something that steps in at just the wrong moment.”
“The kidding again.”
“Have I steered you wrong yet? Trust me. The speculation will be intense. Who did it? Who were they really going for? When interest starts to fade, you send a few drones out across the world. Paris, DC, London, New Dehli, Moscow. Nice, bright colors. Ramp it up. THEN we introduce you.”
“By taking over the broadcast signals worldwide!”
“Close. I'm thinking TikTok dance video. Look, I can see you're onboard. I'll pencil you in for a 7:30 at the office in Chicago. Bring a few minions. We'll do dinner, maybe get some cheesecake, and talk details. Work for you?”
“Lactose-free cheesecake? A few of the bodyguards get, uh. Gassy.”
“Sold! See you then, cupcake.”