Villain (Book 1): Villain 1

by Laddusaw, Cole

  Terry hurried downstairs to Indiana Drones and grabbed the device. Once back in the kitchen, he applied the foam generously around the affected area on Deimos’ chest. Deimos immediately felt a cooling wave of relief. Terry continued the spray up and over Deimos’ shoulder so that when the foam hardened the cast would be able to support itself. It dried in a few minutes and Deimos thought it should hold as long as he remembered to take it easy for a few weeks.

  Feeling better, Deimos unhooked his right robotic leg brace and placed it on the table. The damage it sustained the day before was fairly minor. A bent plate had forced itself into a gear mechanism, so it simply needed to be removed and bent back into place. Deimos had Terry run back down to Indiana Drones for his tools then he set to work fixing it. At some point during the commotion, The Buzzard woke up and made his way to the kitchen.

  “The hell is wrong with your legs?” he asked gruffly.

  Deimos chuckled softly as he used pliers to free the jammed metal piece from the gears.

  “Nothing anymore,” he said, yanking out the twisted metal. “By the way, thank you again for yesterday. You saved my life even though you probably didn’t want to. I owe you one.”

  “How about your henchmen?” The Buzzard replied immediately.

  Deimos dropped his pliers.

  “I’m sorry, what?” he asked.

  “Can I borrow them for a few days?” The Buzzard asked. “I’m loading my old base onto a cargo ship and need more people I can trust. Not sure where we’re going yet, but thanks to your stunt yesterday I need to get the hell out of town.”

  “Absolutely not! These men are my family. They aren’t here for you to use like tools,” Deimos responded.

  He was surprised by his own emotional response, and by the look on his henchmen’s faces, they were too.

  Glenn placed his hand on Deimos’ shoulder and whispered, “Boss, it’s okay.”

  “Yeah, this guy saved your life. It’s the least we can do,” Terry chimed in.

  “Besides, you got some work to do with the kid,” Harold added, nodding back toward Eve. “You don’t want us old fuckers cramping your style.”

  Deimos was touched by his henchmen’s sentiments and didn’t know how to respond.

  “They’re good men,” The Buzzard continued. “You have my word they’ll be safe as long as they can handle a turret.”

  Deimos raised his eyebrows, shocked that The Buzzard could afford turrets. He thought about it a moment longer and realized they probably weren’t purchased and felt stupid for even thinking it.

  He looked to his henchmen for any sign of indecision but all three of them nodded firmly. They were good men and he didn’t want to lose them, but if they felt comfortable leaving then he would have to trust them. Plus, maybe if they played their cards right he could bum a corner in whatever lair The Buzzard ended up in after his move.

  Dejected, Deimos shoved out his hand.

  “Deal.”

  The Buzzard grabbed Deimos’ hand and shook it firmly, sending shooting pains through Deimos’ ribs. He winced and gripped at the now hardened cast, which gave him another thought.

  “Terry, take Hells Belts with you,” Deimos said. “It’s cracked but you should be able to fix it. I think you’ll need it more than us.”

  Terry smiled.

  “Thanks boss.”

  Deimos pointed a finger at The Buzzard.

  “Keep an eye on Terry. He’s our special little man.”

  Glenn and Harold burst out laughing and Terry’s face turned beet red.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Terry grumbled, hiding his joy for once again being referred to as the young one.

  The henchmen embraced Deimos, much to The Buzzard’s disgust, then headed out on their new assignment. Deimos watched them leave with a forlorn twinge in his heart, or maybe that was his bruised rib, either way Deimos was sorry to see them go. Over the last two days they had proven themselves to be as devoted and crazy as they were thirty years ago, and he loved them for that. Deimos knew The Buzzard would keep his word and protect his henchmen, but that wouldn’t stop him from worrying until they were all reunited.

  With the four men gone, the loft was quiet again. To distract himself, Deimos returned to fixing his leg brace. He was done within a couple of minutes and popped the brace back on. He wiggled his feet to check the calibration. Everything appeared to work normally.

  Deimos looked around the room and saw Siren sleeping soundly next to Eve. The young superstar had taken a quick liking to his wife and Siren was already treating Eve like the daughter she never had. Deimos had an inkling that her feelings for Eve might have been stemming from her leaving her teaching job, but he would never say anything. He knew how important it was for her to have someone to take care of. Some people can’t take care of themselves if they aren’t also looking after someone else. Now that Siren didn’t have twenty snot-nosed rascals bothering her with their problems every day, Eve fit into that role rather nicely.

  Watching the two women sleeping peacefully made the prospect of waking them even more painful, but Deimos knew it had to be done. It wasn’t safe to stay in the city for even one more day. They had made too much noise yesterday and needed to take their villainous misdeeds elsewhere for the time being. Eve still needed her training, but it couldn’t be done in the city.

  Deimos tiptoed to Siren and gently shook her shoulder. She smacked him in the face and rolled away from him. Deimos brushed off the stinging tears knowing full well how little Siren appreciated being woken up early. It didn’t help that this was the second consecutive day he had done so.

  Deimos persisted and gently whispered to Siren, updating her on the henchmen and proposing that they take Eve out for a villain training exercise. Siren groaned loudly but rolled back to face him. She knew if Eve was going to join them on their quest to stop Hans then she would need to be well versed in the villain handbook. Of course, there was no such thing as a villain handbook, only an unwritten semblance of ideals and guidelines on how to properly protest, but most members of the Villain Movement agreed on them.

  Siren reached back and shook Eve’s shoulder. She didn’t wake up. Eve was more accustomed to getting home at that time rather than getting up. Siren shook her more forcefully and Eve bolted upright.

  “Megan!” Eve shouted.

  She blinked as hot tears welled in her eyes. Immediately upon recognizing Siren, she collapsed into her arms.

  “Oh God,” Eve cried. “She’s still gone, isn’t she?”

  Siren embraced Eve and stroked her hair.

  “I’m so sorry sweetheart,” she whispered softly. “I’ve got you.”

  Deimos watched awkwardly and scratched at his five o’clock shadow. He patted Eve on the back.

  “The first day is the hardest. I know that doesn’t mean much now, but it gets better with time.”

  Siren shot Deimos daggers. He should know better. The last thing a grieving person wants to be told is that everything is going to be fine. Deimos shrugged and motioned to the door pointedly.

  “In the meantime, how about we take the drone for a spin? Siren and I want to show you the ropes today.”

  Eve stood and rubbed her eyes.

  “Sure,” she said. “It might be good for me to get out and take my mind off things. Let me wake up a couple of my henchmen.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t sound right. I’m going to stick with calling them my posse.”

  Siren chuckled, “You call them whatever you like, sweetheart, but we were thinking just us three went out.”

  Eve pouted, “I never leave without my posse.”

  “That may be true, but being a villain is more than telling people what to do,” Siren replied. “Besides, we’re your posse now too, remember?”

  While this was mostly true, Siren believed it would be in their best interest to keep Eve away from
her followers until they could properly train her. This was for their own safety. It wasn’t normal to lose nearly one hundred henchmen in a single fight and Eve only appeared to be mourning her one friend. They needed to make sure Eve understood that her followers are people too, and something like that should never happen again.

  Eve huffed and crossed her arms.

  “Fine, what’s the plan?”

  Deimos stood, wincing from the pain in his chest.

  “How about a little robbery?”

  Eve scoffed, “I steal shit all the time. That’s easy.”

  “There are harder things to steal than clothes and jewelry,” Deimos replied coolly. “When done properly, robbery can entirely disrupt the means of production of your enemies.”

  Eve rolled her eyes and fiddled absentmindedly with her pigtails.

  “I guess that sounds pretty badass. Fine, whatever. Let’s go I guess.”

  The three made their way around Eve’s sleeping posse. While Deimos made them all coffees, Siren was sure to leave a note thanking their hostess and promising to pay her back for all of the food they had eaten last night, as well as for the to-go mugs they were currently stealing. She then softly patted Professor Paws, who was still fast asleep, and kissed him gingerly on his head to wake him up. The pup stretched, tooted, then the four of them headed downstairs. They quietly wheeled Indiana Drones out from cover and took off.

  Deimos input coordinates that would take them about twenty miles off the coast. As soon as the autopilot kicked in, Deimos squatted down into the waist-high cockpit. The open-air craft was too windy to both stand in and drink coffee simultaneously. Eve and Siren were already huddled together under a blanket with Professor Paws to protect themselves from the stinging sea breeze that whipped above them. Their hands and faces were cupped over their warm coffees, providing them with meager relief from the biting cold.

  Deimos shouted to the women over the whine of the thrusters, “I texted Glenn to get some info from The Buzzard. Supposedly, a large shipping vessel for Crymson Tech is set to arrive later today at the Los Rebeldes Port. We’re going to head it off and see what they were expecting, take some for ourselves, and maybe do a little bit of sabotage on our way out.”

  Eve mumbled into her coffee, “This still just sounds like stealing shit.”

  “What did you say, young lady?” Deimos shouted.

  “I said this still sounds like stealing shit!” Eve yelled back.

  Deimos furrowed his brow, ready to unleash a flurry of parenting, when Siren patted him on the shoulder and pointed ahead.

  “Babe, look!” she exclaimed.

  Deimos turned to see a plume of thick black smoke rising from the ocean. He grabbed the pair of binoculars that were stashed under the console and stood to get a better look. The smoke was issuing from a sinking shipping vessel. Stacks of metal crates bubbled and sank around the capsized ship. Deimos scanned along the mass of burning wreckage and saw the Crymson Tech logo on the bow of the still sinking ship.

  “Holy ship! It’s Hans’ shitment!” Deimos exclaimed. “Sorry, you know what I meant. I’m excited.”

  Deimos returned to looking through the binoculars and spotted movement through the smoke.

  “I think I see something. Siren, get us around this smoke.”

  Siren directed Indiana Drones around the smoke for a better look. When they came within viewing distance, Deimos nearly dropped his binoculars in shock as if he were a high school thespian overacting in an unlicensed rendition of Titanic.

  Sailing away from the burning Crymson Tech shipment was an 18th-century warship with sleek black sails. It was approximately one hundred and fifty feet in length and four stories high. At the top of the mast hung a red flag adorned with a black skull and crossbones. Deimos turned to Siren and handed her the binoculars.

  “I know this is a bit of a crazy question, but does that pirate ship look familiar to you?”

  Siren grabbed the binoculars. Before she had time to look, a cannonball whistled past them. It fell rapidly and struck a shipping crate in the water beneath them and exploded on impact.

  “What the hell!?” Eve exasperated. “Does insane shit happen to you guys all the time?”

  “It’s been a while since it was this frequent,” Deimos replied, “but yeah, this seems about par for the course.”

  Siren, having finally looked through the binoculars, shouted out, “That’s Redbeard’s ship!”

  “Who?” Eve asked.

  “I knew it!” Deimos proclaimed. “He was a pirate villain that was popular back when Siren and I were in college. Holy shit, I can’t believe that guy made it through the purge!”

  Another cannon fired, except this one sounded different than the first. It carried with it an ominous whistling and a distinct rattle. Before the three had time to see anything, the cockpit shook with a massive THUNK causing Professor Paws to wake up with a loud whimper. Deimos peered over the railing to see that Indiana Drones was now connected to the pirate ship by a long chain. Beneath them, pierced into the underbelly of the drone, was a magnetic claw. A second later the chain that was connected to the claw tightened and they slowly began to descend toward the ship.

  Deimos attempted to fly Indiana Drones upwards. The thrusters and fan blades whirred loudly, but the claw remained latched. They were stuck.

  “Shit,” Deimos muttered. He tore through his moving boxes, pulled out the megaphone, and shouted into it, “Hey, Redbeard, we aren’t with Crymson Tech! It’s Deimos and Siren! The Devastating Duo, remember?”

  Siren ripped the megaphone out of Deimos’ hands and spoke angrily into it, “They never called us that! We were always referred to separately.” She turned angrily to Deimos. “You chose now to try and bring that nickname back?”

  “Sorry. I always thought it sounded cool,” Deimos mumbled dejectedly.

  Despite their plea, Indiana Drones continued its slow descent. The chain clinked beneath them, dragging the four of them helplessly toward the deck of the pirate ship. Deimos, Siren, and Eve looked nervously at each other waiting for a response from the ship but none came. Professor Paws, unaware of their imminent doom, fell back asleep.

  As Indiana Drones was pulled downward, a dozen assorted men and women began filing out onto the ship’s deck. They each held automatic rifles, which they kept pointed toward the descending villains.

  “Hey!” Deimos shouted once they were close enough to hear. “My name is Deimos. This here is my wife Siren and our business partner Eve. Sorry, I don’t mean to speak for them. I’m sure they could introduce themselves. I just ramble when I’m nervous, like I am right now.”

  The armed pirates didn’t respond.

  “Anyway, I once pulled a job with your boss Redbeard a few decades ago. Still a huge fan. This is so crazy, I had no idea there were any villains other than The Buzzard who were still alive!”

  “Shut up!” a one-eyed woman yelled from the deck.

  Deimos immediately turned to her with his hands raised.

  “Sorry, rambling I know. But would you mind getting Redbeard? I’m telling you he would remember me.”

  A rough, haggard voice shouted from deep within the captain’s quarters, “Redbeard is dead.”

  Deimos turned to Siren. They shared a concerned glance that said, “Maybe approaching a pirate ship that had just blown up a shipping vessel wasn’t the best idea.” It was a very specific look, but when a couple has been together for as long as they had, there is a look for all occasions.

  A heavy THUD of metal on wood issued from the captain’s quarters. There was a pause, then another. And another. It sounded as if someone was repeatedly dropping a cannonball onto the deck, moving closer and closer with each teeth-clenching thud.

  The door to the captain’s quarters swung open and a burly, barrel-chested man stepped out onto the deck. He was wearing what one woul
d expect a pirate to wear if they had only seen them in cartoons. On top of his thick, red hair sat a triangular, feather-tipped hat. A long, decorated robe sat atop a white poofy shirt that was unbuttoned enough to show off a manly tuft of chest hair while also concealing what was more than likely a saggy pair of man tits.

  Deimos looked down and discovered the source of the thudding. The man only had one leg. For his absent leg, where one would expect a pirate to have a peg leg, he instead had an entire cannon welded to his thigh.

  The cannon-legged pirate captain pulled out a leather bota bag and squirted its contents into his mouth. The red liquid dripped out of the corners of his lips and down his glistening orange beard. He let out a massive belch, causing Siren and Eve to cringe in disgust.

  Then, the captain turned to Deimos and belted a loud, primal yell, “Ahoy, Deimos, ya old son of a bitch!” He motioned to his crew. “Put down yer weapons. This be a family friend. Let ‘em board.”

  The pirates lowered their weapons. Deimos eyed two muscular pirates distrustfully as they grabbed a plank and placed it from the ship’s deck to the still-hovering Indiana Drones. Eve shrugged and began to board the ship. Siren followed closely behind her carrying the sleeping Professor Paws.

  The captain noticed Deimos’ uncertainty and shouted out, “What, don’t ya recognize me?”

  Deimos looked the hairy pirate captain up and down.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t say I do. Although you certainly have Redbeard’s beard.”

  “Aye! That and his crippling alcoholism,” the captain replied, laughing. “I’m his son!”

  If Deimos had been drinking anything at the moment, it would have certainly sprayed comically out of his mouth.

  “Holy shit! Calder?” Deimos cried out.

  He hurried Siren and Eve the rest of the way across the plank and ran up to the captain. He grabbed the man’s broad shoulders and got a better look at him. Underneath all of the curly hair was a smooth, pale face and deep, ocean blue eyes. The man smiled a boyish grin that Deimos immediately recognized.