The Prospects (Book 2): Nothing Poorer Than Gods (22 page)

The glass doors opened for Alex.

Flayer slipped the tips of his whips through the warped top border of the steel plate that covered Griffin Tower’s lobby doors. The metal creaked as it bent. He grabbed the turtle-shelled woman and shoved her through the gap. The machine guns fired. A few bursts later, there wasn’t much left of her.

“That ain’t good,” said Flayer. He thought about the mechanics of the machine guns. He also remembered he wasn’t getting paid to bring the lowlifes in his truck back.

He pointed to All-Beef Patty and raised the specialized microphone to his mouth. “You with the muscles, get this wall down. Who has ranged powers?”

Two mutants raised their hands. One had his hand covered in flames, the other had fingers like icicles.

Flayer checked the list on his tablet. “Backburner, Icy Fingers, shoot out the guns. The rest of you, get in line. You’ll go in one at a time to draw their fire. Bristlespine, you’re first.”

The villains knew it was suicide, but the stimoceiver microchips implanted in their brains didn't let them resist his order. On Flayer’s orders, a man covered in porcupine quills ran into the bullets as the two projectile-powered villains fired at the exposed guns.

Junkyard Kat got in the back of the line. Only a lifetime of defying authority gave her the strength to hold back that far. The stimoceiver generated small shocks to keep any stronger thoughts from forming.

In the medical ward, Gale Force said, “We need to get to Agent O’Farrell’s family.”

“Why?” asked Gary.

“There’s a bunker under the basement. They’ll be safe there.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure they’ll trust you?”

“I hope they do. Where’s the bunker?”

Ujimushi answered. “Below the basement. Follow the line of LED lights on the ceiling away from the living quarters and keep going down.”

“How did you know that?” asked Gale Force.

“It’s how we got in last month.”

A burst of machine gun fire echoed through the building.

“Hey, question,” said Bosillos.”Why are those guns getting quieter?”

“I have no idea,” said Gale Force.

There was another blast of machinegun fire. It was quieter and shorter.

“Sounds like they’re not working anymore.” Bosillos yanked his handcuff against the bedrail. “Hand me my cigarettes? I want a last smoke.”

Gale Force looked over the assortment of tools on the table. “If I set you free, will you help me defend the tower?”

“I ain’t a fighter,
gorda
. I fix stuff, that’s it.”

She looked at Ujimushi. “Will you help?”

“Why should I help the ones who slaughtered my clan?” asked Ujimushi.

“Because if you don’t, we’re all dead.”

Gary said, “So, uh, should I go or …”

Gale Force looked at Bosillos’s tools while thinking of the elevator. “I remember something from
The Art of War
about holding a position that can’t be attacked.”

Traffic barely moved on the way to Lincoln Tunnel, but it was stationary to Deon.

Time slowed down when he approached his full speed. He could look back and forth through an intersection and dash through in the narrow space the taxi drivers left between the cars. Even bicycle messengers seemed sluggish to him.

His vision became sharper. Obstacles passed so quickly he could process glimpses. His brain synapses connected fast enough to allow him to process thoughts much faster than usual so he could process everything in his path and dodge it easily.

That ability was all that saved him when he saw a woman in ragged green fatigues with a rabbit-eared helmet vanish in a puff several blocks down the road. It was also the only thing that saved his life when he was only a block from that spot and saw the flames of an explosion spread in a plume right before he heard the deafening boom.

At close to a hundred miles per hour, Deon barely managed to dodge the shower of debris. He heard shouts behind him. Puca reappeared several blocks down.

Deon decelerated as he wove through the pedestrians on the sidewalk. To him, people moved so slowly he saw every muscle move as they raised their hands to defend their faces.

Puca shoved something into a garbage can and disappeared again.

A burst of speed got Deon to the garbage can in a split second. He raised the lid.

It had been almost two months since Lady Amazing showed him what Semtex looked like in a training session, but he recognized the block of gray putty with a digital clock on it in the time it took the lit-up zero-zero-eight to turn into zero-zero-seven.

The only other thing he knew about bombs was that Lady Amazing told him to never try to disarm one because there were thousands of possible detonator configurations.

The timer read zero-zero-six.

He looked around. He couldn’t see a place to put the bomb that wouldn’t possibly kill someone.

The timer read zero-zero-five.

Deon forgot every negative feeling he had about New York City. He was the only one who could save it now.

The timer read zero-zero-four.

Puca reappeared down the block with another bomb in her hand.

Deon ran faster than he ever did before.

The timer on the bomb he held read zero-zero-three.

The MAB agents parted when Alex ran through the hallway with his badge out. He ran into the hospital room, took off his helmet, and unslung his shotgun.

Trista pointed to a window on her screen with boxes connected by a network of lines. “I mapped the Handler’s spyware network. It’s in everything, from your phone to the White House.”

“Good. What’s he up to?”

“He’s calling two moving points in the city.” She started typing again. “The Handler picked highly populated areas in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore. Each has at least point-of-contact who unloads his villains and tells them to attack.”

“Can we intercept their communications? Maybe tell them to retreat and take all the villains they can with them?”

“The Handler mainly makes phone calls. I don't have a microphone and couldn't imitate his voice if I did.”

“Does he use text messages?”

“He only does that for mass communication. There’s one that went to places that weren’t on the CIA’s map of his locations. All it said was to wait for his order.”

“They’re probably reinforcements,” said Alex. “When the superheroes come back and restore order, they can hit those.”

On the other side of the partition, Noah chuckled. “Sure. Send idiots in tights to fight other idiots in tights.”

Alex ignored him. “Do you know how many people are in each location?”

“I can’t get into his video feed,” said Trista. “The hospital’s router doesn’t have enough bandwidth.”

“When has not knowing what you’re up against ever stopped you stupid-heroes?” said Noah.

“Shut the hell up,” said Alex.

Trista stopped typing. “Wait. He’s right.”

“Tell me you’re not taking his side.”

“Alex, you used to be at the front line of the New York Guardians' battles. How often did you rush in without knowing what you were getting into?”

Alex rubbed his chin. “That is how we met.”

“It’s your damn egos,” said Noah. “You shove everyone aside because you don’t think anyone else can save the world.”

“Superheroes do that so often it's predictable,” said Trista. “Remember how Mister Griffin said the Handler called himself the artist of war?  He planned what everyone would do, and we're following his script.”

“I don’t care about glory,” said Alex. “I don’t even care much about catching him. I only want this to end with as few deaths as possible.”

“An agent of authority working to restore peace.
Jus ad bellum
.”

“You’re right. I am an agent of authority, and the Handler is a rogue operative. But the CIA, MAB, FBI, and superheroes don’t communicate. We're already divided.”

Noah turned on the TV. A news anchor said, “Wayne Penobscot, rumored to be the real identity of the Midnight Rider, is a hostage at the Langham Hotel.”

He changed the channel. “Philadelphia is in flames as …”

He changed the channel again. “In New York, the local superheroes are out in force, but the Scientific Six and New York Guardians are gone. As you can see behind me, Griffin Tower is under attack.”

Trista stopped typing. “Did he say Griffin Tower is under attack?”

Alex rubbed his head. “A truck slam into it and a bunch of goons come out. Emily and Calvin are in there. I hope the security system and Gale Force will be enough to save them.”

Trista grabbed her rosary and mouthed a prayer.

“Thanks,” said Alex. “I’d do that if I knew how.”

Trista tapped a few more keys. “I don’t think the Handler can remotely shut down Griffin Tower's security system, but I won't take a chance. I’ll disconnect the intranet from his spyware network.” A square disappeared on the map of the Handler’s spyware network. “He won’t know it’s gone unless he tries to activate it.”

“Don’t stop there. Tear it all apart.”

“But he loses a lot of connections quickly, he’ll think there’s something black in the lentil.”

“There’s ... what?”

“It’s something Vijay’s mother used to say.
'Daal me kuch kala hai
.’ I got a lot of his personal memories when I took his skills.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means something fishy. He’ll get suspicious if everything shuts down.”

“His power comes from information. The less he has, the weaker he is.”

“Fine. Where should I start?”

Alex pulled out his smartphone. “He’s throwing our enemies against us, so I’ll throw his at him. First free my phone, and if he’s hacked into Agent Breugnon’s phone free that too.”

“What about the New York Guardians? Shouldn’t you call them?”

“Deon is running them down. Arbalest always loses his, and I don’t know how to call Magna. Stormhead can't answer his phone while flying for some electro-magnetic reason I don't understand.”

“Guess that’s why he didn’t answer last night.”

“But Agent Breugnon reached Midnight Rider without the Handler noticing before. He can save Boston. After that, take off the major superhero teams. I’ll get them back to their cities. Then disconnect the MAB’s main headquarters, and then the CIA, FBI, NSA, and Homeland Security. We'll use them to destroy the Handler’s reinforcements. Let's save as much as we can before he notices us.”

Trista clicked the mouse button. “Your phone is disconnected from his network.”

Alex unlocked his smartphone’s security screen. He saw the picture of himself and Emily back when she was pregnant. The lingering guilt he felt from leaving them behind stabbed his heart. Even if Emily cheated on him, he couldn’t deny he was happy at that moment.

No. That moment was gone. There was no time to look back.

Trista clicked her mouse again. “Agent Breugnon is off the network.”

“Good. Get the address for the hidden base near Boston.”

Noah said, “Agent, I can see the redheaded girl and the not-gay boy from my window. They’re taking a beating.”

Knockout Rose and Pinwheel ran around the hospital's corner.

The rest of the Young Sentinels huddled in the middle of an intersection. A young boy in a rainbow colored suit lay motionless on the sidewalk. Stardancer danced madly to control anyone who would watch. Cantrip threw hoops, handkerchiefs, and playing cards, which did nothing but annoy the encroaching monsters and madmen. A brunette who wore only a few strategically placed pieces of golden tape cowered.

“Is your replacement the nearly-naked girl?” asked Pinwheel.

“The manager wanted me to wear less,” said Knockout Rose. “I had to argue like hell to add bodypaint.”

Pinwheel put his hands together. He tried to shoot a laser at a club-wielding man who got close to Stardancer. He held his hands the same way he did when he fired a laser at the tyrannosaurus-man. Only a weak beam of light came out. The energy wouldn’t gather and explode. He was scared for Knockout Rose and Agent O'Farrell. He had no trouble focusing on his grief and fear then. He could not muster that feeling for Stardancer. In fact, he wanted to see her get hurt for all the times she humiliated him.

No, he couldn’t think that way. Heroes had to save everyone they could.

Pinwheel threw a flash of light at the club-wielder.

Knockout Rose she focused on a heavily scarred hunchbacked mutant with large red eyes. Even though she only trained with Alex for a few days, she remembered his words: “A good takedown eliminates the size advantage.”

Knockout Rose ducked punched the mutant’s thighs with her charged gloves. He fell forward. She rolled to avoid being under him. She pressed a capsule on her wrist and coated his face with capsaicin.

A wiry rat-faced fiend grabbed her from behind. She shifted her head and threw her leg high enough to hit his face. He loosened his arms. She spun and punch him twice. He fell to the ground, twitching.

Stardancer stopped dancing. “About time you got here, Steve. Do you have any idea how tired I am?”

Pinwheel’s hands flashed like a powerful strobe light. Each burst of light was a little weaker than the previous one. Beads of sweat appeared in his close-cropped hair. It got harder and harder to generate the energy.

“I didn’t say take five,” said Stardancer. “Come on, you’ve got an audience. Act like you deserve applause.”

Steve brought forth all the bitterness he felt towards Stardancer. He made another flash. This time tiny shards of hard light scattered with the burst. They struck an encroaching gang of villains in identical doll masks like razor-sharp hail.

Stardancer saw a gap in the doll-masked mob. “Exit stage left.” She ran through it.

Pinwheel didn’t see a heavy fist before it hit his cheek.

He landed face-to-face with the replacement Pinwheel. The slender young man had a costume identical to his except for a bullet hole in the middle of the mask. The boy’s dead eyes stared back at him.

Knockout Rose narrowly dodged a tiger-man’s clawed hand and got up in time to jab him with a charged glove. He didn’t hit the ground before a walking pile of scrap metal smacked her back with a lead ball on the end of a pipe-like arm. 

Her suit’s automatic fabric contraction and her harness’s reinforced frame kept her bones from breaking, but it hit hard enough to knock her down.

A man with spiked armor kicked the downed Pinwheel. Knockout Rose blasted the attacker with a burst of capsaicin.

Pinwheel found the energy to shoot a laser at the scrap-metal man. The beam shot a hole through him.

The brunette wrapped herself around Pinwheel’s leg. “Please,” she said, crying from a combination of fear and capsaicin mist, “save me.”

Cantrip wrapped around Knockout Rose’s leg. “Save me too.”

Knockout Rose and Pinwheel stood back to back. All around them were monsters, miscreants, and minor villains.

Another burst of machine-gun fire echoed through Griffin Tower.

Gary said, “You want me to take the elevator during an emergency?”

“It’s a direct route to the basement,” said Gale Force. “Get down there and move the O’Farrells to the bunker.”

The doors opened. Gary went in. “Hope we make it.”

After the doors closed, Gale Force turned back to the medical ward. “Lou, protect Joey.”

Lou nodded.

“Ujimushi, last chance to help. I’ll ask Agent O’Farrell to drop the charges against you.”

Ujimushi said nothing.

Bosillos put his tools and assortment of machine parts back into his pockets. “You want me to open the elevator doors now?”

“Yes. How easy would it be to open a door from the inside if I was on top of the elevator?”

A long needle popped out of Bosillos’s mechanical hand. He stuck it into a small hole in the corner of the elevator. “All you gotta do is trip the safety latch. You should also pull the safety break so it doesn’t move.”

The elevator doors clicked and opened. Gale Force peered into the dark shaft. “I can barely see the elevator’s top. How do I trip the latch and engage the break? I’m not even sure what those look like.”

“It’s your plan,
gorda
.”

“Stop calling me that.” Gale Force tapped Bosillos’s cybernetic eye. “Can you see in the dark?”

“Hey, I’m not going …”

Gale Force threw aside her crutches, grabbed Bosillos's arms, created a burst of wind behind him, and pulled him into the elevator shaft by falling backwards. She created a mini-tornado to cushion their landing on the roof of the elevator.

There was another burst of machine fire, followed by a shout: “Only two more guns.”

“The deal was I help you,” said Bosillos, “not get killed.”

“Then hide,” said Gale Force. “Engage the break when the elevator stops. Open the door to the ground floor.”

Bosillos’s eye glowed. “How far should I open it?”

“Enough for me to get my hands through so I can generate wind.”

“Wind? These guys took out machine guns, and you’re going to use air?”

“I’ll repel them as long as I can.”

The elevator stopped. Bosillos activated the security break. “I see the latch. Sure you want to do this?”

A single weak burst of gunfire ended mid-burst. “That’s the last gun. Charge!”

Gale Force said, “Do it.”

Bosillos moved the safety latch and opened the door a few inches.

The bullet-gouged marble flagstones of Griffin Tower’s lobby were coated in blood. Body parts from various minor villains, most of them barely human, littered the floor along with shells and pieces of destroyed machine guns.

Flayer stood in the shattered glass that used to be the lobby’s doors. A dozen minor villains ran straight towards the elevator.

Gale Force thought of everyone who said she didn’t have what it took to be a superhero. She remembered every fat joke, every racist comment, every insult she ever heard. She also remembered how she stopped two angry kids with guns from committing mass murder at her high school and how, in the same floor in front of her, she helped Alex defeat the Bone Horror.