As they walked along, Ogma noticed that Patriot was more than a little uncomfortable. Having known him for well over ten years, Ogma knew that Patriot had never been a huge fan of celebrations. Small parties were one thing, but here they were in New York City to celebrate Patriot's promotion to a Chair.
Patriot had served for so long with the Champions and had had so much influence on all members, both domestic and international, that many thought that the promotion was long overdue. A Chair was reserved for the highest ranking Champions members and was, ultimately, the highest rank that a member could attain. It meant that not only had one served as a leader, but could be trusted and counted upon to lead the leaders.
"You realize I love this, right?"
Patriot grumbled something incoherent and shot a look at Ogma. "Chris, you're almost as bad as Rush. I knew I shouldn't have let him have you, but I knew that you wanted to go to Paragon City and help him."
Ogma chuckled and smiled at Patriot. "You really deserve this, you know? I mean, seriously, you've led the Champions Southeast team for almost fifteen years. I and everyone else, for that matter, are surprised that this promotion didn't land in your lap years ago. Besides, you're a born leader and you know it."
Patriot looked down to his feet and pulled off his mask. "I know, Chris, but this has never been one of my goals. I know most Champions members think it's a dream come true, but few truly understand the honor...or the pressure. Speaking of pressure, how is Eric...ahem, Rush holding up? Did meeting Lady Blur throw him?"
Ogma busted out laughing, doubling over and wiping tears away. "Yeah, it threw him alright. He got all uppity and jumped her about using Blur's name before he even knew it was her. I'm just glad I was in the office to hide her paperwork."
"Chris, you didn't! How could you hide her paperwork from him?" Patriot asked, trying to hide a smile.
"What can I say? Old habits die hard. Besides, no harm was done. He quickly found out who she was and was happier than a man could be. Though, it took her awhile to find her way to his apartment. But they're happy to be together again."
Patriot chuckled and ran a hand through his blonde locks. "I can't believe you, Chris. The man has been separated from her for over a hundred years and thought she was dead. I sent that paperwork a week ahead of schedule, with an explanation, and you hid it! You should be ashamed of yourself."
"Ah, Rush deserved it. He's been too pent up and was driving Ban and Spirit crazy," Ogma replied.
"Speaking of Ad...ahem, Ban, how is he?"
"Whoa! You know his real name? Hold up! No! To my knowledge, he hasn't even told Eric!"
Patriot smiled at Ogma and whispered, "Yes, I know his real name. I almost slipped and, no, I'm not going to tell you. It's almost the same with Eric and I. Rush and Red Heat have known my real name, for years, but neither of them have ever spoken it to another living soul."
"Dammit, Patriot! That's not fair! I pride myself on being a keeper of knowledge, hence why I chose the name of the Celtic god of knowledge, and you're keeping the good stuff from me," Ogma complained.
It was Patriot's turn to burst into laughter, this time, and when it abated, he replied, "Chris, you have the ability to read minds and get all the knowledge you want, so quit complaining. I'm just glad that you've remembered Mindwalker and my lessons so well."
Ogma smiled and turned to his hero, "You and she taught me everything I know about responsibility. Eric tempered it with his insatiable hotheadedness and Red Heat taught me how to have fun. Patriot, you guys have been the best parents I could've ever hoped for. Thanks."
The two embraced, then continued to walk on. "So, tell me about this new girlfriend of yours, Chris. She's coming tonight, right?"
Patriot stood, looking in the mirror, and still couldn't shake the nervousness. Adorned in his "dress" uniform, he laid his shield on the bed. "Won't be needing you tonight, old friend. Just going to a party," he whispered.
As the hero left his room and was locking the door, a passerby caught sight of the red, white and blue uniform and stopped. "Sir, are you the real Patriot or just dressed up for some costume party? Cuz that suit looks very convincing!"
Chuckling, Patriot replied, "Yes, I'm the real Patriot. Need me to show you the shield?"
Mumbling, the passerby responded, "No, no. It's just that...well...ummm...can I have your autograph?"
Taking the pen and pad from the stranger, Patriot scribbled his autograph with a smile. "Here you go, sir. Have a great evening."
As Patriot got into the elevator, the stranger stood there watching, a dumbfounded look on his face. When the elevator doors closed, the stranger's face darkened and twisted. "What a fool."
Patriot emerged from the ferry to the welcome of a thousand camera flashes. Not only was this a big night for the Champions, but the entire country celebrated with one of her favorite heroes. He strode toward the base of the Statue of Liberty, waving and flashing his ever charming smile.
Looking around, he saw hundreds of Champions members, all of whom he'd served with at one time or another. He couldn't help but smile. He was among his friends.
A lovely young lady walked up to him, dressed in the most beautiful evening gown he'd ever seen, and extended her hand to shake his, "Hi! I'm Sarah. You must be the star of the hour."
Patriot took her hand and planted a gentle kiss upon it, "You must be Chris' girlfriend. I've read some very good reports about you." He stopped and looked around. "Where is Chris, anyway?"
"Ah, he ran to grab you a non-alcoholic glass of wine."
He couldn't help but smile more broadly, "Good old Chris. Always trying to stay one step ahead." He put his arm around Sarah's shoulder and moved away with her. "You know, Chris is like a son to me. I hope you're as serious about him as he is about you."
Almost matching his smile, Sarah whispered, "He knows how I feel about him. Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt him."
As they walked and talked, Ogma came up and handed Patriot a glass. "Welcome to the party, Patriot. This is your night, ya know. Enjoy it. You deserve it."
After the ceremony, Patriot looked up at Lady Liberty and smiled. "You're still the most beautiful woman here."
Ogma and Sarah had been dancing for the past hour and Patriot couldn't help but miss Mindwalker. He knew how deeply undercover she was working and that neither of them could afford for her to show up here, but he wished she could've been with him and danced alongside their "son".
A shadow fell across his face and, startled to attention, he looked up to see Chris and Sarah. "Patriot, you haven't danced a single dance and since I know who your mind is on, I told Sarah that...well..."
Taking Sarah's hand, Patriot smiled at Ogma and whispered, "Oh, son, what will people think?" Chuckling, he and Sarah took to the dance floor.
As Ogma watched them, he took another sip of the non-alcoholic wine and sat down at the table. He knew what Patriot was thinking without even trying to read his mind. The alien within him stirred and the feeling brought inexplicable comfort.
"You will make a fine trophy," the twisted voice hissed. His leathery hand stroking the shield, the stranger cackled, "But Patriot dies tonight!"
Ogma shot out of his chair, the alien trying to force the change into the Dwarf form. Ogma took off at high speed, not quite knowing what was wrong, but knowing that he had to reach Patriot.
Pushing people out of the way and causing an uproar, Ogma shouted, "PATRIOT! GET DOWN!"
Sarah, frightened, screamed, "CHRIS?!?!?!"
The gunfire began.
Her evening gown covered in blood, Sarah stood outside the hospital's ICU. She couldn't stop crying. The last report she'd heard was that the death toll included twenty-nine civilians and fifteen heroes, many more were reported in serious condition.
A hand touched her shoulder, then buried her face into his chest. They stood there, holding one another.
A raspy voice came from the man's throat, "The world saw heroes die, tonight. America saw one of her brightest stars fall."
She couldn't bring herself to do anything other than cry into the man's chest.
"Patriot's shield has been stolen. Patriot has fallen. Long live Patriot," the voice rasped, pulling the girl back and showing her the red, white and blue.
“Patriot Falls” copyright 2005 R.Smith.
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