"... we worship you in the name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit."
Spotty people around the church murmur a soft "amen."
"Go in peace. The Mass is ended."
Underneath the church, the ticking of an unnoticed clock resolves in the ignition of a fuse. The fuse burns up, all the way to a bundle of high explosives, which lies in the very center of the church's foundation.
The resultant explosion shatters the peaceful night, as the thirty-odd people contained within the church go to meet their Lord early.
In a messy apartment on the outskirts of Detroit, a woman sleeps.
Not just any woman, however. She is the number-one super-heroine of the city.
She is the leader of a special division of the Detroit Police Department.
She is The Flea.
The phone rings. Flea picks up one of her shoes and throws it across the room, toward her alarm clock. The shoe hits, effectively wrecking the clock.
The phone rings again. Knowing now that it isn't her clock, Flea slowly rises out of bed. When it rings again, she annoyedly growls at it, "All right, I'm coming!" Finally out of bed, she staggers over to the phone and picks up.
"Burke ... (yawn) ... Whaddya want?"
"Jill, it's Jasmine. We need you at the station. Now."
Flea yawns again. Turning to her wrecked clock, she checks the last time it had shown. Four AM. "For cryin' out loud, Chin, it's four in the friggin' morning!"
"I know that. There's been another unexplained explosion, and now we're being called in."
Flea moans. "All right. Give me an hour to wash up and jump into my clothes, and I'll be up there. All right?"
"I'll try to stall for an hour, but I'm not sure the chief will give you that long."
"Tell the chief one hour. If I'm longer, he can personally kick my butt from here to Trumbull."
"All right, see you in an hour." Jasmine Chin, another member of Motown Heat called Cutup for her knife usage, hangs up on the other end, leaving silence in Flea's apartment. Rubbing her eyes, Flea mutters "little Korean worm" as she staggers into the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, Flea springs out of her apartment, showing the world why she's called Flea as she bounces off of buildings, heading for the station. As she jumps along, she starts thinking to herself, accidentally awakening her other personality.
"What's happening?"
"Another unexplained arson fire. Motown Heat's been called in on the case."
"I still don't understand why humans try to cause so much harm to each other."
"Ferret, it's just human nature for one human to be supreme over another."
"Human nature is very confusing."
"Tell me about it."
At the station house, Flea flies in through the window, bouncing off of a desk and eventually landing in her own padded chair in the office.
"So, Jasmine, what's the good news?"
Cutup walks over to a map of the city on the wall, where Motown Heat's third member, Jack Porter, a.k.a. Ramm, is standing. "The explosion occurred in a cathedral just off of MLK Drive. It's about the fourteenth in as many weeks, the bomb squad is stumped, and now they're calling us in to investigate. Jack, is the map ready?"
"Just about. We're pinning down the locations of the bombs, to see if there's a pattern to them. Tell us what you think."
Flea walks over to the map next to the giant purple behemoth Ramm, looking at all of the pinpoints on the map. "Well, one of the things I notice about this is that all of the bombs are at religious centers."
Cutup walks closer to Flea, looking at the map.
"Look at this. This here on the 800th block of Michigan is a synagogue. Over here, the location of the first bomb, that was a Baptist church."
"And this last bomb was in a cathedral." Cutup comes away from the map, her chin in her hand. "Now why would anyone in their right mind want to burn down churches?"
"It's not just one bomber, either," Ramm interjects. "These locations are too spread out to simply be the work of one. Some of the locations are as far out as Farmingon Hills and Romeo." He points out these locations, on the outskirts of the city.
"Has anyone tried finding a general center to all of this?"
Cutup grabs her compass and goes back to the map, drawing a circle around the furthest sites. "Well, there doesn't seem to be a ..." Something catches Cutup's attention and stops her short.
"What is it?"
"Look at the design of the sites." Cutup picks up a pencil and starts playing connect the dots with the sites on the map. "This looks like some kind of occult symbol."
Slowly, Cutup's pencil traces around all of the sites and creates a design: A flame.
"Say, isn't this ..."
"The logo of Unicolst Industries. I thought I'd seen that flame before."
"Let's head out there and see what's up."
Cutup and Ramm agree, and as Flea leaps out the window, calling back "meet you there," Cutup and Ramm run downstairs to get a truck from the motor pool.
At Unicolst Industries, the team regroups, as Flea jumps into the truck. When she reemerges, she is wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of tight blue jeans. He red high-heeled shoes remain, with the slight points of gray showing through.
Flashing her badge at the guard at the door, she walks in the building. In the truck, Ramm and Cutup are keeping track of her using small cameras hidden in her badge, which she has hooked to her beltline.
"Excuse me, I'd like to speak with anyone in charge."
The receptionist at the desk looks numbly at Flea as another woman walks into the reception area.
"Hello, I'm Kylla McCrory. I'm VP in charge of public relations for Unicolst. Can I help you?"
"Detective Burke, Detroit Police. We're investigating a series of arson fires in the area. Can I ask you a few questions?"
"Certainly, Detective. Step into my office."
Flea follows McCrory into the office, just behind the reception desk. After McCrory takes her chair behind the desk, Flea starts the questioning.
"Ms. McCrory, have you heard anything about the recent fires?"
"I heard that the fire department has been having trouble investigating them."
"Yes, well, they've turned the investigation over to us in special forces. We've been trying to determine a pattern to all the fires, and all paths lead to Unicolst Industries. Would you have any idea why?"
"None."
"Well then, how do you explain that the pattern of the fires is in the shape of your logo?"
"That's impossible." Flea suddenly looks down to the lapel of McCrory's coat. The same pattern that the fires were in was on it, a pin.
"Detective Burke, if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I can assure you that no associates of Unicolst Industries are even associated with this."
"I see. Well then, Ms. McCrory, thank you for your time. I'll see myself out."
Flea stands up to leave, then suddenly turns back to McCrory. "By the way, why is it I haven't seen a single man around here?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that everyone around here that I've seen going in and out is a woman. I haven't seen a single man for the last ten minutes."
"It's just your time of day. We employ many men, and in fact, our president is named Michael Redmond."
"That doesn't necessarily mean that Michael Redmond is a man."
McCrory suddenly laughs. "All right, you got me. Michael Redmond is a woman. Well, it's nothing to worry about, detective."
Flea nods. "All right." She leaves.
Back in the truck, Flea jumps out of her street clothes and evaluates the recording. "Well?"
Cutup looks at the close up that the badge managed to get of the lapel pin. "Yes, that's the same design as the pattern of the bombs. I believe we have ourselves a culprit."
"We have to know for sure," Ramm adds. "We can't just run around making blind accusations."
"True. Let's do it this way: Jasmine, you're going undercover."
"Me?"
"Yes you. They already know that I'm a cop, but they've never seen you. You're going undercover as a worker at Unicolst. I'll have the boys in records fix you up with a computer employment record, and you can infiltrate into their confidence. From there, you'll try to nail them from the inside."
"All right." Cutup nods.
Cutup walks in the employees' entrance of Unicolst Industries, punchcard in hand. She inserts it into the timeclock, withdrawing it when it stamps a time and date into it. Slipping it into an empty slot on the card holder, she grabs a hardhat and walks into the main work bay.
In the bay, she starts to overhear conversations from the other workers.
"Are you going to the meeting tonight?"
"Oh yes. I just love it when She speaks."
"I get so inspired by Her words."
Cutup continues to work her way through the workers, overhearing more conversations about a meeting, finally breaking into another conversation.
"Hey girls, what're you talking about?"
One of the women, a large woman who seems to be the oldest of the crowd, looks at Cutup with surprise.
"You're new here, aren't you?"
Cutup nods. "Yes, I am. Name's Jasmine Lin."
"I'm Laura. Well, Jasmine, what we're talking about is the meeting of our little organization."
"Oh, you mean like a union?"
"I guess you could say that. We're always looking for new members, as I'm sure you'd like to join."
"Most certainly."
"Very well, then. Meet us at the front door at about eleven tonight, and we'll show you what goes on with it."
Cutup smiles, knowing that her entire conversation is being recorded by a small tape recorder affixed to her stomach.
Back at the police station later in the evening, Cutup plays back the conversation with Laura.
"Well?"
Flea is the first to reply. "Go to it. This 'meeting' might reveal to us our bombers."
Ramm nods. "We'll follow you in an unmarked car and mark your progress. If it gets too dangerous, or your cover is blown, we're moving in."
"I understand."
"All right, then. We'll get you hooked up with a wire."
In street clothes, Cutup walks up to the front door of Unicolst Industries and meets with Laura.
"Good evening, Jasmine. The meeting starts in a few minutes, if you'll follow me."
Laura opens the door with her key, holding it open for Cutup to enter. In a minivan obscured by darkness across from the office, Ramm and Flea track her progress.
"Is the homing device working?"
"Like a charm." Ramm turns back to the screen, which has a floorplan of the building downloaded into it. Suddenly, a blip on the screen representing Cutup disappears.
"What happened?"
"She's no longer within the floorplan. If she gets in trouble, we'll have to guess where she is."
Flea starts to squirm in the driver's seat of the van.
Below the building, the "meeting" is starting. A woman dressed in tight black leather steps up to an altar at the front of the room.
"Fellow daughters of the flame, welcome. Who are we?"
En masse, the crowd screams, "We are the Sisterhood of the Flame!"
A stream of concentrated fire shoots from the mysterious woman's hands, lighting four torches on either side of the altar. The woman steps in front of the altar.
"Sisters, daughters of fire, the blessings of almighty fire upon you! The flame is cleansing!"
The crowd shouts "Yes, Fire Priestess!"
"Come forward, those who wish to be cleansed, and let the fire purge all from your soul."
Eager women come forward to the Fire Priestess, as she touches them with her hands. Unknown to Cutup, one of her throwing knives has lodged itself through her shirt and into the floor of the cave. The Fire Priestess, hands upon her faithful, produces fire from her hands which instantly sets each woman's head aflame. Horrified, Cutup stands up and cries "NO!" Her shirt is torn apart, revealing her wire.
Cries of "Infidel" and "Whore" cascade out of the speakers attached to the wire. Ramm turns to Flea, who is asleep in the driver's seat.
"We got trouble, Jill. They blew her cover."
"Let's move!" Flea crawls out of the window of the van as Ramm jumps out the back.
"Who is this infidel?"
The Fire Priestess produces small jets of flame from her hands, which propel her across the temple toward Cutup.
"Detective Chin, Motown Heat." Cutup grabs her badge and three throwing knives. "Move and you're dead!"
The Fire Priestess continues to fly toward Cutup. Cutup throws the knives at her, but the Priestess waves a hand, melting the knives in midair.
"Fool. Your weapons have no effect on someone who they can't even reach. Now be purified by the life-giving flame, and join our happy sisterhood in the afterlife. An afterlife of mighty flame, where heaven is defined by fire and hell defined by water!"
As the Priestess starts to bring her hands forward toward Cutup's head, Ramm and Flea burst through the heavy door to the temple, and Flea fires her pistol at the Priestess, hitting the Priestess square in the left hand.
"FREEZE! POLICE!"
Without hesitation, the Preistess shoots a stream of fire at the two incoming officers, hitting Ramm in the chest. His entire body erupts into flame, as he frantically drops to the ground and rolls around to extinguish the flames. Flea leaps toward the Priestess, who points her hands up to the ceiling and burns through it.
"Try and catch me, heathen!"
Bringing her left hand down, she propels herself through the hole she has made thorugh the entire Unicolst Industries building and into the air. Leaping straight up, the Flea follows her.
"Infidel! Your religious center is the next place to be purified!"
"What?!"
As Flea and the Priestess fly through the air, the Priestess tells Flea her entire plan.
"Religion in the world is impure. My flames will purify it all. My destination is Italy!"
Flea finally ralizes what the Priestess is referring to: She intends to burn Vatican City to the ground. Suddenly, another voice interferes with Flea's clear thinking.
"Why should we care about the Vatican?"
"If she's allowed to destroy the capital of a major religion, who knows what she'll do next?!"
"I don't understand why religion is so important."
"Dammit, Ferret, I have no time for this right now!"
Flea points her pistol toward the Priestess and fires, hitting her square in the back. The Fire Priestess' fire dies, and she starts to plummet. Flea goes after her, grabbing an arm just before she reaches an unmanageable speed, and starts to work on her injury, as the other personality takes over Flea's body.
Finally back at the station, Flea starts to argue with herself again.
"Why is religion such an important element to human nature?"
Flea closes her eyes, as one voice starts to explain.
"Religion is a unifying factor for people. We all need something to believe in."
"Another aspect of human nature I'll never understand, I guess."
Flea nods. "I suppose so."