My name is Vic Sage. Yes, that Vic Sage. The one on your television every night at dinner or before you go to bed. I am Hub City’s favorite news anchor and that’s not me being conceited. The ratings prove it. The polls prove it. It’s just the way it is. 

The scene opens as Vic is finishing up a news broadcast talking about the crime lord, Eel O’Brien and his gang of misfits: Dragon and Deathbolt. 

I do what I can in front of the camera to expose their criminal underworld. Unfortunately, my boss makes every attempt to undermine my stories. What he doesn’t know is that despite his best effort, I’m slowly getting the job done.


You might ask yourself, why is this loon standing in the rain getting soaking wet? The answer will be obvious very soon. You see, there’s a vigilante in town. They call him the ‘faceless man’ and he has been leaving the criminal underworld a trail of broken bodies. They have the bat over in Gotham, and the boy scout over in Metropolis but Hub City has the ‘faceless man’ and he’s not afraid to put a few down to clean up this city. 


The reason I’m standing here, in the rain, soaking wet is that I am the ‘faceless man’. There’s another reason I’m standing here today. I’ve been told that I have 72 hours to live.

Standing outside a building, the faceless man stands with rain pouring down on him though it seems not to bother him in the least. He can hear the voice of the nightly news anchor on the television.


“Tonight on the eleven o’clock news, a special report from KBEL’s Vic Sage. Further evidence of widespread corruption in the city.”

He decides it’s time as he steps in front of the door and with a single boot, kicks it open. 

“What the hell?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “It would be wise to just stay where you are. All I want is the video.”


The trio has gotten to their feet: Eel O’Brien, Dragon, and Deathbolt. Eel, smart ass as always, has to interject, “Boys, I don’t think he really wants that video. It just might take some convincing.”

The first mistake Eel makes is opening his mouth because he barely finishes that sentence before he’s clocked right in the mouth with an elbow that sends him flying backward, headfirst into the television as it shatters. 


Deathbolt takes a swing, the vigilante ducks underneath and brings a fist right to his face, sending him to the ground. We finally notice off to the side an Asian female leaning against the wall and watching the scene unfold.


Dragon pulls a gun from one of the drawers but before he can take aim, a chair flies at him, knocking the gun from his grasp and sending it flying. The vigilante grabs him and drives a knee up into his face, dropping him as well. 


With everyone down, the vigilante turns to the woman, “Smart move. Stay out of this. I just want the video.”

She doesn’t really react, remaining stone-faced as she shakes her head, “I actually despise violence.”

The faceless man is about to say something when he’s hammered in the back of the head and he slumps to the ground. The other mobsters are moving as Deathbolt looks over, “Nice job, Eel.”


Eel motions towards him, “Grab him. Let’s find out who this fucker is.” Dragon walks over and pulls up the vigilante from behind, holding his arms as Eel walks up and starts to look for a way to remove the covering over his face.

“I can’t get this off. It’s like it’s actually his face but that’s impossible.”


Suddenly, the man’s face shoots forward and cracks Eel right in the nose, instantly shattering it as blood sprays from it. He uses his feet to drive Dragon back and crashes him through a table, then smashes him in the face with an elbow.

The woman continues to watch, shaking her head. “How barbaric,” she scoffs.


The vigilante walks over to the only one still conscious and grabs him by his shirt, “Where is the video?”

Deathbolt looks in one direction, “It’s in the safe, brother.”

The vigilante pushes Deathbolt towards the safe. He opens it and hands him over a USB drive. “You probably just got me killed. Who in the hell are you?”

The faceless vigilante accepts the USB. He pulls a card out of his pocket and drops it on the floor.  As Deathbolt kneels to retrieve the card, the vigilante disappears out of sight.

Deathbolt flips the card over and a giant question mark is there. “Question Mark?”

The woman is staring out to where the vigilante disappeared, “It seems you’re half correct.”


The Question climbs into his car as the rain continues to pour down around him. He shuts the door and taps the button on his belt as the vehicle fills with a smoky substance.   He reaches up and pulls the mask from his face then pulls away from the curb and drives off. 

The speedometer shows he’s going 60 as he passes a cop car. They look at him as he drives by and looks at each other before starting their car, turning on their lights and going after him.

The cop in the passenger seat reaches for his microphone and yells, “Red car! Pull over!”

Sage looks up into the rearview and smirks. He downshifts and the car lurches forward leaving the cop car trailing far behind.

“He’s gotta be doing a hundred!” one of the cops says as the one driving decides to pull over. “What you pull over for?”

The cop driving puts the car in park, “Cause ain’t no way I’m catching that guy. I’m gonna sit here and pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Where the god damned hell is Sage?! Doesn’t he know he has a job here?”

The weather girl is talking about the rain as Sage walks up next to his boss, “You know what your problem is? You get carried away with your own importance, but not carried away far enough.”

The boss turns to him, “Do you know what time it is?”

Sage smirks, “Time for all idiots to die. Better get your will ready.” He turns to one of the producers and hands off the USB drive, “Make sure this video runs on my cue.”

“You got it.”

The weather girl is wrapping up her segment, as a producer walks up, “Your script.”

Sage shakes his head, “I got this.”


“For my handsome face? Pass.”

“And as we promised, here is Vic Sage with a special report on city corruption.”

Vic has taken a seat on stage as he begins to speak, “It only takes one word to describe my report tonight. Vile. I’m talking about the administration of Mayor Wes Fermin. In previous reports, we have shown you the corruption of the parks department, the transportation department, and the city health department. Tonight, I’m going to show you that the corruption of this city has spread to the board of education.”

Inside the control room, the station manager is watching and shaking his head, “The guy has balls.”

“Let’s roll the video.”

As the video begins to play, Sage speaks over it. “See that guy shoveling cocaine into his nose? That is the commissioner of our schools, Mitchell Doohan.”

The station manager was starting to take a swallow of coffee but as the image pops up on the screen he spits it out. 

“What the fuck? Shut that down! Turn that shit off right now!” he demands as he walks over and starts trying to press some buttons. 

“See that woman with him? That is Marilyn Klebb. She is the fiance of Adam Perch, the contractor who was just awarded the contract to the building of our new sports stadium by guess who? I’ll give you one guess. Mitchell Doohan. Perch used his own fiance to sleep with Doohan in order to blackmail him into giving him the contract for the stadium.”

We get the image of people all over the city, each watching the broadcast and shocked by what they are hearing as Sage continues his speech.

“As I said, it’s vile what this city has become while innocent taxpayers are made to suffer. Political slugs are getting fat off your dime while the mayor of this city sits around on his ass doing absolutely nothing. So, I ask you. Is the mayor of this city lazy, stupid, or something worse? This has been Vic Sage back to you.”

Inside the mayor’s office, the same Asian woman from before is there. The mayor is sitting on a couch in his bathrobe and a glass of scotch in his hand. “Turn it off,” he slurs as a blonde-haired woman walks over and turns it off. 

“Myra, dear. Can you excuse us for a few moments so I could talk with my associates?”

Myra doesn’t seem very happy about it as she glances from her husband, the mayor, back to the Asian woman. She bites back whatever it was she was going to say and instead says, “I’m going out then,” and stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“She is strong. Strong but angry,” says the other woman. 

“So what do we do about Sage?” comes a voice, though very nasally. We see that it’s Eel O’Brien. He’s sitting in a chair while another female attends to bandages on his nose which appears to be recently broken. “Goddamn it, Sheila! That hurts.”

“Sorry, Eel.”

The mayor turns to him, “What exactly happened to you?”

“It’s that goddamned vigilante, came in and stole that video and gave it to Sage! He came in there and took us by surprise. And your girl there didn’t bother to help one bit.” Eel glares at the woman.

The mayor turns to her, “Lady Shiva, is this correct?”

Her expression doesn’t change, “Of course. I am a paid assassin, not a bodyguard. I don’t do unless I’m paid to do. That scuffle had nothing to do with me.”

Eel points his finger at the woman, “Scuffle? How dare you call that a scuffle!”

“Sit down, O’Brien, please,” the mayor pleads. “We need solutions, not these petty squabbles.”

“You want a solution, send your assassin over there to take the both of them out. I mean, isn’t that her job,” O’Brien says, dropping back down in his chair. He lifts his glass and hands it to Sheila who walks over to pour a fresh drink.

Lady Shiva seems amused by the antics of the gangster, “If you feel that my services would be utilized the best in taking out the reporter and the vigilante, then certainly I can make that happen. You know my price.”

Sheila brings over the drink and hands it to Eel, “I don’t know your price, but you’re in this as much as any of us. You could have stepped in, you bit—”

Suddenly, Shiva is at his face, the glass he was about to drink in her hand as she presses it against his mouth, forcing the scotch down his throat and his chin, “I neither had the desire to protect your video nor to protect your inept group of clowns. So, unless you chose to make me want to act, I suggest you keep your words to yourself.”

Eel is choking on the scotch as she stands and moves away from him. Sheila is there to help clean him up as he stands, “Fuck this. You wanna work with this crazy witch, then go right ahead. I ain’t the only one going down if Sage exposes the lot of us.”

Eel and Sheila leave the office together, also slamming the door behind them.  The mayor turns to Shiva, “Do what you must. I will have the money wired tonight.”

“Very good.”

Vices can be a bitch to break, but in order to do what I do I have given up all of them except for once. I still haven’t found a way to break free of this one. 

“You should have seen him, Vic. He was near wit’s end when you broadcast that video.”

Yes. Yes, indeed that is Myra Fermin, the mayor’s wife still in my bed. She left his office and came immediately to my apartment where she spent the night. We aren’t strangers. We’ve been lovers on and off for a decade. More on than off. I mean, when she married Mayor Fermin, it was off, but as he got wrapped up in the city’s corruption game, he spent less time with her, so she spent more time with me. It is what it is. I mean, we’re all grown-ups here, right?

Myra is sitting up on the bed, reading the morning paper while Vic has just finished dressing, putting on his tie. “Go on…” he prompted her. “I could never get enough hearing how upset I have made him.”

She reaches for a cup of coffee and turns to him. She’s obviously wearing one of his t-shirts as it has the station logo on the front and it covers her down to mid-thigh. “Funny. But, I hope you ran that video through your legal department.”

“Yeah, that sounds like me. Wait a week as the lawyers get their thumbs all over it and cut this and snip that out. Sounds just like me, Myra.”

She tosses the newspaper to the side and rolls onto her stomach, “What is this that you use? The smell is very unique for a cologne,” she asks, smelling his pillow.

He grins, “Just a little something I picked up.”

“Ass,” she mutters as she gets up from the bed and walks over to the coffee maker and fills her cup. “More?”


“Aren’t you scared, Vic? You’re making quite a few people angry. Dangerous people,” she fills his cup and hands it to him. 

He accepts with a grin on his face, “I sure as hell hope so.”

“You know they’re going to come after you, right?”

He reaches for his coat, “I’ll handle them.” As he reaches, she sees his knuckles are busted open and bruised. 

“What happened to you? I didn’t notice that before!”

He starts to take a drink of his coffee and turns to her with a grin, “You were a little too busy to notice anything.”

She gives him a shove, “I didn’t hear you complaining one bit. Don’t leave until I clean that up.”

He puts his jacket on, “Don’t worry. I gotta go.”

“Will I see you later?”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Charlie, come on in!”

“Why do I have to tell you every time that I’m Victor now?”

As Vic enters the modest home of Aristotle Rodor, closing the door behind him, he finds his mentor reading through some handwritten books, Vic continues to speak, “But, you already know that since we have this same conversation every time I visit.”

Rodor looks up from his reading, “It’s called a ritual. Provides guys like us some sense of reassurance.”

Vic smirks, “Is that a quote? Who said it.”

Rodor rises up to greet Vic, taking a dramatic bow, “That would be yours truly, just now. Aristotle Rodor, Pee Atch Dee at your service.”

“I should have known. As much as I enjoy these little chats, we may have some issues with the mask.  I was having an argument last night with some folks and it slipped a little.”

Rodor raises an eyebrow, “A physical argument?”

“My favorite kind,” Vic says as he slips the mask over his face. The mask seals against his face as he does so. 

Aristotle steps up and inspects the mask, “You’re using that special aftershave I gave you, right?” He touches it, “Oh. It is loose. Relax.”

He reaches up and sprays something on Vic’s face and the mask starts to peel off. “Interesting. Let me investigate this a little and I’ll get back to you.”

“I hope you can make it fast. The Question has plenty to do tonight.”

As Rodor walks away, “He always does. But, Rome wasn’t built in a day. That, my friend, is not my quote.”

Vic takes a seat with a heavy sigh.

Curious, Rodor watches for a moment, then asks. “Stressed out lately?”

Surprised by the question, Vic thinks for a moment, “Perhaps?”

“Leading a double life can do that to you. I wonder if it’s your stress levels that are leading to issues with the mask.”

“Look, Tot. The Question can do things that Vic Sage cannot do.  There are things that need to be done and in order to do that, I need The Question.”

Aristotle continues to examine and analyze the mask, “You need the danger. The excitement. The adrenaline. You’re becoming an addict. One day, this will kill you.”

Finally, he stands up and walks over to a cabinet and looks among the rows of small bottles before pulling one out. He walks back to his desk and opens another container and adds a couple of drops to it before swishing the contents around. He seals it up and picks up the mask and the liquid and walks over. “I’ve adjusted the aftershave. This should help. If not, come back and we try again. It’s all I can do since you need this urgently.”

Vic accepts the items and turns to his mentor, “How do you put up with me?”

Rodor grins, “The Question requires a vastly complicated answer. For now, let me simply say that watching you work out your destiny is the most fascinating spectator sport in town.”

Vic just shakes his head and waves, “See you later, Tot.”

“Goddammit, Montoya! Get yer ass in here!”

The booming sound of the chief’s voice was heard throughout the station. Detective Renee Montoya was about to take a drink of her coffee after already being on shift for eight hours. She eyes the coffee longingly for a moment and then sets it down.

“Coming, Chief.”

She gets up and walks into his office.

“Where’s my vigilante?”

“Chief, he’s trying to help…” but she doesn’t get to finish that sentence as the chief rises up on his feet and slams his fist down on his desk, shaking everything on top of it.

“It is a menace. A killer. A murderer. Gotham doesn’t have murdering vigilantes, do they? No! Metropolis doesn’t have murdering vigilantes, do they? No! What about Star City? No. No! NO!  This faceless menace needs to be brought in and needs to face up to his crimes, do you hear me? And all I want to hear from your lips are the words ‘Yes, chief’ or by God, I swear I’ll take your badge and give you the goddamned boot. Now, do you hear me, Montoya?”

Renee bites back the first comment that comes to her mind. Instead, she nods. “Yes, chief. I’m on it.”

“Take Tremmel with you too…”

“C’mon, Chief! He picks his no–”

“Take him with you!”

As she leaves his office, she’s already decided that she’ll work the vigilante case, but fuck if she’s going to take that nose-picking loser Tremmel with her.  That idiot barely passed the fucking exam to make detective.  

She walks to her desk, snatches up her coffee and heads out the door to her car. As she turns the ignition, she sees Tremmell coming out the door looking for her. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath as she puts the vehicle in reverse and drives out of the parking lot as quickly as possible as she spots him running after her in the rearview mirror. 

Then he takes a dive onto the pavement.

She almost stops to help him. Almost. She turns the corner on to the street and keeps going.

Dusk was starting to settle on Hub City as the street lights began to flicker on. Vic Sage was driving his car down the highway when something shot right through his window, shattering it and out the other side, shattering that one as well. He swerved the steering wheel and crashed into a light pole.

He staggers out of the car and runs into an alley. Shots begin to fire in his direction as he disappears.

Montoya’s radio comes to life advising of a possible shooting and the location. She picks up the microphone, “Montoya here. I’m close. Send backup.”

She flips on her lights and sirens and begins to drive faster as she approaches the scene where Sage’s car crashed. She rolls up next to the sidewalk. The sounds of gunfire are heard, but she hasn’t been able to determine where they’re coming from. 

She slowly opens the door, using it as a shield as she reaches for her weapon. “Where’s the fucking backup?”

Sage is hiding behind a dumpster as he reaches into his pocket for his mask and as he puts it on his face, it seals in nice and tight.  He runs down the alley as he comes to a clearing, he sees a single soul standing there waiting for him.

Lady Shiva.

“Welcome,” she says as she walks towards him. “It’s unfortunate that our meeting this way will have to end the way it will, but I am hoping at least that before I put you down, you’ll give me a challenge.”

The Question shakes his head, “It ain’t my day to die today, lady. I don’t know who you are or why I keep running into you, but it ain’t the day to fuck with me. O’Brien put you up to this?”

She merely laughs at the thought. “Mr. O’Brien couldn’t tie his own shoes until he was fourteen. Please.  Your time of death is not yet upon you. From this moment forward, your time of death is in exactly 48 hours. For now, shall we play… Mr. Sage?”

When she uses his name, he is shocked. He doesn’t acknowledge her one way or the other, “If you’re not going to move, then let’s get this over with.”

He charges at her and she easily avoids him by touching his head and flipping over and behind him. She strikes out quickly with a blow to the side of his neck. As the fight continues, she makes it very clear to him that she’s just toying with him and he starts to get frustrated.

“Why don’t you just finish me off?!” he yells at her as he rushes in, but this time he ducks her strike and thrust a kick into her back, making her stagger forwards.  

She turns to him and actually looks amused. “You’re better than I thought.” 

“Stop, police!”

The voice of Renee Montoya booms out as she runs down the alley. Shiva is suddenly right next to the Question. She connects to the side of his neck with the side of her hand and he drops to the ground. “I’ll see you in 48 hours, Mr. Sage.”  She then with just a couple of leaps, climbs to the roof of the nearby building and disappears. 

Montoya breaks into the alley and spots the man on the ground, “Are you alright?” she asks as she kneels down to help him.  Her eyes continue to dart around, though the gunfire had stopped long ago.  The Question groans under his mask as he starts to sit up and it’s then that Montoya sees his face with no face and realizes it’s the vigilante.

She leaps to her feet and draws her weapon. “Stay where you are. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used…”

“I know how that goes, but I’m afraid I can’t let you take me in.”

“Excuse me? I’m putting you under arrest right now, so get up to your knees and place your hands behind your head and we will have no fucking problems, do you understand me?” she asks as she moves around him.

“Well, don’t shoot me while I’m getting to that position if you can at all help it,” he mutters underneath his mask. As he does, his finger slips against his belt and gas begins to fill the area. 

“Sorry, sweetie,” he says.

As the gas gets thicker, Montoya starts to look around to see what’s going on, “You’re going to make me shoot you, aren’t you?” she says as she runs into the gas. “Where are you?” 

The gas begins to dissipate and she finds she’s in the alley alone. “Son of a bitch…” she mutters under her breath. “Not going to tell a soul about this,” as she holsters her weapon.

Sage is back at his apartment getting ready for his newscast when there’s a knock on his door.  He walks over and Myra is standing there. He leaves the door open as he walks back to the mirror to finish putting on his tie, as she walks in carrying a bottle of wine.

“Oh, you have that, don’t you?” she asks as she sets the wine on the table.

“I do have that,” he reiterates. “It’s kinda my job, but yeah. I got it.”

She walks over and snatches his tie from him and helps him tie it on, “Pity. He’ll be in meetings all evening and I was not invited.” She glances up at him with a grin. 

“Sorry, babe,” he says. It’s then she notices the bright purple mark on his neck.

“Are you seeing someone behind my back? That looks awful.” She takes a closer look, “Did you try to use concealer? Really? You did a shit job.”

“Had a run-in with some fans. Not a big deal.”  He sits in a chair as she reaches into her purse for some makeup and begins to apply it to his neck.

“The kind of fans that want you to stop meddling into this corruption story?”

“That would be them.”

She stops for a moment, “I told you this was going to happen. I told you these were the dangerous type.”  She resumes applying the makeup to his neck.

“But, look. Me. Fine. Really.” He allows her to finish before standing, “You’re welcome to stay, but I can’t promise when I’ll be back. If you do leave, lock it up, alright?”

He gives her a kiss which seems to not be enough for her as she pulls him back for a longer kiss. He finally extracts himself from her, he starts to open the door, then something comes to mind and he turns back, “Can you find out if Detective Renee Montoya is one of his?”

She has just sat at the table when he asks, she looks at him with a curious look, “If she’s your next…”

“She’s not.”

“I’m not helping you scope out my competition,” she teases.

He smirks, “That’s not what this is. And you know it.”

She thinks about it for a moment, mostly to watch him squirm a little. “Okay. I’ll look into it.”

“You’re the best,” he says as he leaves. “I’ll see you later.”

As soon as he’s out the door, she reaches for the wine. “I’m sure you will,” she murmurs under her breath as she begins to open the wine. “Let’s not let you go to waste,” she tells it.

It’s late. Most have gone to sleep as snow begins to fall in Hub City. Detective Renee Montoya is still cursing her luck from earlier, though to be fair she knows that luck had nothing to do with it. She’s about to end her shift as she drives back towards the precinct when she spots what looks to be some sort of scuffle in an alley. 

Normally, she’d flash her siren and lights and they’d run off but she’s had a shitty day and she’d like for someone to test her today. She pulls the car to the side of the road and gets out. 

Two thugs are roughing up an older man, “Where’s the money you owe us, pal?”

She reaches for her badge as she walks towards them and holds it out, “How about you leave him alone and I let you walk away with just a warning tonight.”

One of the thugs turns to her, “Don’t worry, you’ll get your cut.”

This takes her by surprise, “I said stop. Walk away right now.  If I have to pull my weapon, I’m going to have to take you in.”

The old man is tossed to the side as they turn their attention to her, “Oh, you’re not on our team in all of this. I get it. One of those do-gooder types. We got a good thing going on here. This is our area and we have permission to work it so unless you want to get hurt, I suggest you walk away. Have a talk with that chief of yours if you want in on the action, but leave us the fuck alone, cop.”

She’s taking in all of this information but as they step towards her, she realizes she’s in danger and reaches for her weapon but before she can pull it, she’s struck from behind and falls to the snowy ground.

The scene opens on a rooftop above where Detective Montoya was struck from behind. We now see a third thug has joined the crew, “I don’t know what you’re crying about, I clocked one good.”

“You should have warned us she was coming, you idiot.  What in the fuck were you doing?”

“What? A guy can’t piss around here anymore?”

“You fuck. Let’s just throw her off and be done with it.”

They pick up the unconscious body of the detective and begin to pull her towards the edge of the building.

“Yeah, I’m afraid I can’t let you kill that cop.”

The Question has joined them on the roof. 

“It’s the faceless man. Look, hero. There are three of us and one of you. What in the fuck do you think you’re going to do?”

The Question chuckles under his mask, “Funny. I was gonna ask you the same question.” He charges in and immediately connects a fist to one of the thug’s faces.  He ducks a blow and kicks another in the gut, sending him sprawling. 

Renee Montoya is awakened by the fighting, but everything’s a bit blurry for her as she scoots herself away from the action as best she can with her hands tied. 

As her vision clears, she sees the vigilante throw a kick, sending one of the thugs off the roof to his death. A view from on top, sees the thug sprawled out on the pavement below, blood beginning to seep from underneath. 

A second one charges The Question, but he easily sidesteps and uses a foot to trip the thug who stumbles towards the edge and disappears over the side. 

Renee screams, “What are you doing? You can’t do that!”  She struggles at her ropes as The Question walks over and grabs the last one and drags him over towards the edge and leans him over the side.  The thug’s eyes go wide, “Hey! Oh my God, don’t let me fall!”

“Who’s running this shit show?”

“I.. I can’t tell you!”

A little more of him is pushed over the edge and he starts kicking his feet, but The Question remains in firm control. “Tell me.  Now.”

“It goes at least to the Chief of Police,” the thug stammers out. “That’s all I know! I swear!”

The Question nods his head and releases the man, who slips and then falls to the ground below, dying instantly. Renee finally gets her hands free and she rushes over. 

“Goddamnit!  Why did you do that?”

The Question gets to his feet and looks at her, “It’s them or us. Whether you like it or not, detective. It’s justice.”

She shakes her head, “That’s not how justice works!” she yells, “We take them in and let the courts do their work.”

“In this city, the courts do their work. Not ours. Either we clean up the poison infecting this city, or we all die. If the death of a low-life thug like them is part of the immunization this city needs, I have no problem with that.”

Renee reaches for her weapon, “Whoever you are, you are under arrest for the murder of those three human beings.”  She finds, however, that her weapon isn’t there. The Question walks up to her, “You need to decide, Detective Renee Montoya, which side you are on in all of this. I’m cleaning up this city. You can be part of the problem or part of the solution. Don’t think I’m not looking into you and if I find you’re part of the problem…”

“You’re going to kill me too?”

“I’m going to make sure you’re exposed.”

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out her weapon. He separates the magazine from it and flicks each bullet onto the roof until the magazine is empty.  He tosses them behind her. “I’ll be watching you.”

She shakes her head, “I’m going to bring you in. I just witnessed you murdering three people. This isn’t over.” She turns to retrieve her weapon and as she turns around, “And another thing…”

But The Question is gone.

She curses under her breath but she recalls the words of the last thug before he is killed, “It’s the Chief of Police.”

She thinks about it then shakes her head. “Can’t be.”  She starts to find a way off the roof, “Can it?”

Walking into his apartment, he’s somewhat surprised to find it dark and empty. He had hoped to see Myra there. He flips on the light, removes his jacket, and walks over to the table where a half-drunk bottle of wine sits next to a note.

“Vic. Waited as long as I could. She’s not one of his. See you soon. M.”

He sets the note back on the table, lifts the bottle of wine and pours it into the glass already on the table that she more than likely used. He walks over and sits in a chair as he swirls the glass.

“Detective Renee Montoya. Are you really one of the good guys?” he muses as he takes a drink from his wine glass as the camera pans away from him and fades to black.



               VIC SAGE/THE QUESTION   Kendrick Kross

RENEE MONTOYA   Mariah Lopez-Robinson

               MYRA FERMIN   Samantha Hamilton

                          ARISTOTLE RODOR   Jan Van Der Roost

             LADY SHIVA   Q



                EEL O’BRIEN  Shawn Warstein

       DRAGON  Kira Izumi

         DEATHBOLT  Lex Collins

SHEILA SORRELL   Kenzie Garrett


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