The Adventures of Kid Combat Volume One: A Secret Lost (8 page)

“My friends! Thank you for that warm
greeting. I love you all for it,” Jones said pompously with a fake,
fatherly sort of smile pasted on his face as he waved to the
crowd.

“It is my honor, it is my pleasure, and it is
my solemn duty to be here with all you lovely people for the grand
opening of The Jonestown Mall. I have sacrificed many a selfless
hour to bring this to the citizens of this wonderful city. Shops,
stores, and eateries await one and all of you! I guarantee you will
not be disappointed.”

He was interrupted as another round of
applause. One that was louder than any he had heard before. . He
waited patiently, his arrogant smile still in place, slightly
nodding his head in acknowledgment to the crowd. He knew he owned
this town and everyone in it. He could not suppress it any longer
and an even bigger, cockier grin crossed his face.

Wedge had had enough. The scene disgusted
both boys, but Wedge was more vocal about his dismay.

“I can’t stand this anymore,” he said and
turned his back to the podium. He and Timmy stood to the right of
the main marble stairs. Jones was still rambling on about
himself.

“Relax, dude. It’s almost over,” Timmy said.
He motioned his hand up to his right ear and tripped the switch on
his communicator. “KC, what do you think?”

Two floors up, across the street, and on the
roof of York State Bank, Kid Combat lay on his belly and watched
the spectacle through binoculars. He went in and out of focus on
Jones and then located his two friends. There was no reason why Kid
couldn’t be down there with them. But Kid, just like Wedge, enjoyed
the spy aspect of SOCKs and every once in a while he wandered off
on his own to indulge in that craving. It probably was also why he
was wearing his standard Kid Combat suit.

“Well, I can tell you one thing,” Kid said.
“I won’t be shopping there.”

“You can say that again,” Wedge replied.
“I’ll be fine at Spring Road Toys.”

“You’re not kidding,” Timmy exclaimed. “It’s
one of the last remaining non-Jones companies. They’re a dying
breed.”

“I’m outta here,” Wedge said and started to
walk away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Timmy
said, questioning his brother’s move.

Wedge stopped. “Look, you can stay here and
cover ‘Sector Dork,’” Wedge said, pointing at his brother’s nose.
“I’m going to cover over there. And get some nachos.”

As Wedge walked off, Timmy continued
listening to Jones. He knew Wedge would be back, and he definitely
would be all right on his own. Besides, Jones was almost
finished.

“Now, I’m sure you are all wondering how it
is possible for me to deliver such greatness to you. So with that,
I will open the mall. But first, I will open the floor briefly for
you to ask me a few questions.”

Jones waited for more accolades, reassuring
him that he was the great leader of the town. But they didn’t come.
To his dismay, he was not what the town wanted to talk about. The
first reporter set the tone.

“Mr. Jones, while it’s a great pleasure to be
here—”

“Naturally,” Jones interrupted, standing up a
bit taller.

“Yes. Well, my question is about Kid Combat.
There are rumors that there may be more than just one kid, that it
might be some sort of group. Have you heard of this group? And what
do you think of them?”

Jones stood there with an inquisitive look on
his face. He indeed did know of the group. He was probably the only
one in town with proof that an entire group did exist. But now was
not the time to reveal his hand. No, this was his time, not Kid
Combat’s. He dismissed it with a quick answer.

“I have heard of this Kid Combat, yes, but
not too much of his doings. Next question, please.”

Timmy gulped and looked around for his
brother. He didn’t see him, and his eyes went back to Jones.
Praying, he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping there would be no more
questions about Kid. His prayers weren’t answered.

A second reporter chimed in. “Surely, you
can’t be serious, Mr. Jones! We have reports that you were visited
by Kid Combat last night. What did he want with you? Did you see
who he was? Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Timmy said
softly. The woman in front of him turned around and stared at him
for a moment. Timmy just smiled at her, and she turned back
around.

Jones, meanwhile, got tense, and Kid got
nervous. He sat up from his prone position and moved up against the
wall. This was not how things were supposed to be going down. Kid
didn’t want the spotlight. He didn’t want the accolades. That’s why
he tried his hardest to operate in secrecy.

Jones, on the other hand, needed the
spotlight. He was supposed to be praised and admired, not smeared
with questions about kids—kids he couldn’t stand. Jones responded
irritably.

“The visitor you speak of was nothing more
than a vandal. He destroyed some of my property and should be
brought to justice!”

Jones was losing them. Two more questions
came at him at once. And the only word he clearly heard was
“Combat.” A loud murmur started through the crowd. A man behind
Timmy screamed out, “KC rules!” The snowball was definitely
growing, and it angered Jones to no end. He was losing his moment
and the attention of his precious crowd. Then, the reporters
abruptly stopped asking Jones questions and started asking each
other questions about Kid Combat. It frustrated and humiliated
Jones. His anger and rage took over.

“This press conference is over!” he blurted
out, slamming his fist down hard on the podium and sending out
sharp, high-pitched feedback over the loudspeakers. The reporters
and the rest of the crowd stopped talking and stared up at him.

Jones glared back at them, his cold, dead
eyes piercing the onlookers. The crowd was in shock. Who was this
monster in front of them? This was not the happy, friendly Jones
the town knew, the one that showered them with new courthouses,
police stations, and malls. This was an evil, horrible monster.

Jones sensed this. He knew he might have
caused a stir and made things worse for himself. He scanned the
crowd one more time and mustered up what dignity he had left. He
breathed deeply and straightened his tie. He then turned around and
stormed through the double doors, ripping the ceremonial ribbon in
anger as the walked through it. Just then, hundreds of balloons
were released from the rooftop. No one noticed.

“What did I miss?” was the next thing Timmy
heard as his brother returned, cheese all over his face. Timmy just
looked at Wedge, then shook his head.

“Come on,” Timmy said, dragging his brother
by the arm.

“What?” Wedge replied.

Waiting inside for Jones was Two. Panicky and
unsure what to do, Two just did what he did best—grovel.

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what happened
out there. I will get our best team on this right away. You still
own this town. Don’t worry.”

Jones didn’t reply. He continued walking into
the mall. Two had a hard time keeping up. Finally, Jones stopped at
one of the atriums in the middle of the mall. High above them, the
glass ceiling directed the natural light down onto them. They
proceeded over a bridge that spanned a small pond containing
hundreds of fish. They stopped in the middle.

Jones’s mind was a flurry of activity. And
every thought brought him back to Kid Combat. For the second time
that day, Kid Combat had upstaged him. The frustration was starting
to show.

“It’s those kids. They’re taking everything
away from me. They must be stopped!” Jones said.

“What are we going to do about it?” Two
asked.

Jones looked up to his right and noticed that
a crowd was starting to file in. He looked at the people who had
just stolen his thunder and couldn’t believe they would question
his greatness and then bask in the creation he made for them. His
rage grew as the mob filtered in through the doors.

“This is no longer the time or the place,
Two. Meet me tonight. You know where.”

And with that, Jones walked away. He fought
his way through the crowd and found his way to his limo. Afraid to
follow, Two just stood in the middle of the mall.

As the limo pulled away, Timmy and Wedge
appeared from behind it. Witnessing Jones depart, they radioed Kid
for further instructions.

“What do you want to do now?” Timmy asked.
Wedge stood next to Timmy and prayed silently to himself for Kid
not to say, “Follow him.”

“There’s nothing more we can do right now,”
Kid replied. “Go meet the girl. I think she needs your help. We’ll
regroup later. Over.”

The twins headed back to Maple Forest. Kid
started packing his stuff. He watched as Jones’s limousine sped
down the street.

We need a break, Kid thought. He has to slip
up sooner or later.

Chapter Seven:

Jones Sets a Trap

9:00 pm

Checking: System Bios

Initiating: Operating System

Starting: Configuration

Boot: ../home/gears/j_trk.inf

Process: Started!

Samantha sat at a desk in a dimly lit office.
Her shadow, created from the small lamp sitting on the corner of
the desk, silhouetted off the wall behind her. She was exhausted
from a long day’s work. Her arms and legs were sore, and her back
wasn’t much better. She wasn’t in prime shape for a ten-year-old.
With her head in her hands, she hovered over her desk and thought
for a moment.

Earlier in the day, she had started moving
all of the alliance’s materials from its makeshift hideouts in
Samantha’s garage and Gears’s tree house to its new permanent base.
With the heavier equipment already moved in, Samantha spent most of
the day moving in boxes. They were littered all around her, and
there was still a lot of work to be done. But everything was
finally safe and secure at The Playground. No more worrying about
parents, neighbors, or any one else finding their sensitive
materials and gadgets. They were safe.

As she straightened things on her new desk,
she heard a faint sound. Knowing that nobody else could possibly be
there, she wondered what could be making the sound.

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

Samantha stood up and followed the signal
into the hall. As she exited her office, she heard it to her left
and slowly walked down the hall, listening to the beeps. She
followed it until she stood in front of another doorway.

It was Gears’s workshop. The room resembled
Samantha’s office a little. There was a brown desk on the far side
of the room that also was found at the abandoned factory, along
with the silver filing cabinets on the other side. The office had
yet to be decorated, but it would soon be filled with formulas that
Gears was working on, posters of the periodic table, and other
scientific stuff. The main difference between the two rooms was the
two rows of workbenches in Gears’s office. These would be used for
his tools and working on inventions.

Samantha looked through the boxes in Gears’s
office for the source of the noise, which had grown louder. After
moving piles upon piles of boxes, she narrowed the search down to
one corner. She dissembled the pile and reached into the bottom
box, pulling out a small round device with an even smaller light
blinking on it.

“It’s Gears’s remote for his triangulator. It
must have kicked on when I was putting these boxes in here,”
Samantha said as she sat. “It’s still tracking Jones. And it looks
like he’s on the move!”

Samantha watched the white blinking light
move ever so slowly across the screen. It sent out a small beep
with every flash of light.

“This may be important. I wonder what Jones
is up to now, and at this hour?”

She wouldn’t wonder long. Samantha wasn’t one
to sit on the sidelines. She needed to be nose-deep in the action
to be happy. That’s what made her perfect for her position with
SOCKs. She stood up and gave the device a quick flip in the
air.

“There’s only one way to find out …”

At the far end of town was a large industrial
park. Hundreds of businesses used this area for shipping and
receiving goods. For a square mile, all during the day, it was a
busy sight. Trucks zoomed down the streets, trains loaded and
unloaded box cars, and people worked all around. But the site was
much different at night. With most of the factories and businesses
closed, it was a ghost town. The only people around were hired
security guards.

At one end of the park, Two drove along the
street in the blackness of the night, approaching his destination.
He turned right down a dead-end street and made his way half way
around the cul-de-sac. Finally, he spotted the building he was
looking for and pulled his car onto the driveway of an unmarked
warehouse.

He looked at the old, decrepit building. From
the outside, it looked like it hadn’t been used in ten years. The
building was filthy. The old bricks that made up the outside walls
were covered with dirt and started to flake away. Several window
panes were broken, and glass littered the driveway. Two could hear
the glass crunching and shattering underneath his tires.