Superhero by Night Omnibus

by Jeffery H. Haskell

  Over the sounds of the swamp I heard the roar of high-performance engines. It was time. I pulled the C4 from my coat pocket and went to work. I attached my homemade detonator and set the timer for twenty minutes. After I was sure it was operating, I opened the cargo window, pulled out a knife, and cut a hole in the plastic wrap. From there it was easy enough to dig out fifty-grand in dirty money, stuff the bomb in, pile the money on top of it, and then use a few strips of masking tape to hold the whole thing together. I didn’t know if I would have the time later, so I counted out almost a hundred grand in hundreds and stuffed $50k in each cargo pocket. It made my jacket a little heavy but I was running low on funds. Besides, I didn’t think they were going to miss it.

  Once the boats rounded the peak, I made my move. I had the M4 around my back, and with the three mags that came in my pockets—which were starting to fill up to the point of being cumbersome. I eased open the door, slipped out onto the ground, then shut the door as quietly as I could—which was pretty quiet. I figured the C4, especially with the explosion compressed by the cash, should be more than enough to take out my truck and the one next to it.

  I made it to the berm that marked the tree line and slid to the ground, rolling over as I did and unslinging the rifle. I put the collapsible buttstock to my shoulder, charged a round and scanned the horizon.

  I didn’t know what the thing pretending to be Sara really was, but I had trained for this. ISO only cares about money and power, not people; I cared about my family. I wanted to make amends with them. I wanted to be daddy’s little girl again, the way I had been before Charles died. I had waited too long, and they stole that chance from me. They stole the wonderful life Spice had ahead of her. They stole Mom’s chocolate chip cookie recipe. The way she made everything better just by giving me a hug and smiling. If money was all they loved, then I was going to take it all from them.

  I did some mental math; it wasn’t my strong suit, but assuming a stack of hundreds five feet tall, twenty-two wide, and eleven long…

  Oh hell. One-point-three billion? BILLION.

  Times two. I grinned so wide I thought my face was going to split. They can consider this a down payment on what they owe—which is everything that they have. I reached down to my neck and pulled up my scarf over my nose and waited, my eyes free to look around. I had to time my attack perfectly; I just hoped I set the timer right. I wanted to catch them in the middle of the job. Too soon and the boats would take off. Too late and I wouldn’t get all of it. And I wanted all of it.

  ♦♦♦

  Bill raised his hand in the standard Army closed fist halt signal. Instantly, the five-man squad hunkered down, each member turning a different way than the man in front of him as they scanned all sides for an ambush.

  “Felix, you hear that?”

  The spec-ops soldier nodded. “High-speed boats. Prop kind—but in the swamp? They wouldn’t get a hundred feet before the blades were fouled.”

  Bill shrugged. Regardless, it was what they heard. “Rico, drones ahead.” He jumped up and moved out, signaling his men to follow. With a horizontal wave of his hand he signaled them to spread out. They did so instantly, each one separating by twenty feet, moving forward a step at a time with their weapons shouldered. This is what they trained for, what they lived for. No worry about civilian targets or collateral damage. Taking out targets with no fear of hitting the wrong thing was the ideal situation for troops.

  Each man was more than just training and weapons; they had grenades, state-of-the-art communications gear, special armor piercing ammo only available to them, and hi-tech glasses that allowed them to check their six with a glance.

  “Boss, three hundred meters. I’m going to cut left and find an overwatch position,” Felix said in his ear.

  “Roger. Go.”

  Bill strained to hear his sniper depart but only picked up on the growing roar of engines and the sound of swamp life. That man is a damn ghost, I’m glad he’s on our side.

  They regrouped a hundred meters from the target, a small inlet called Eloi Bay. What Bill expected and what was there were two completely different things. Having spent a good part of his life in the south, he knew what was before him couldn’t exist in nature. A brilliant blue inlet with water as clear as a Caribbean cruise commercial. The rain had let up, but the sky was still covered in dark, angry clouds. And the inlet looked like it belonged on a different continent entirely.

  “That’s not something you see every day,” Zim said.

  “Check the moving tree,” Felix broke in on the comms. Bill took a knee next to a large gnarled tree and brought up his 1.5x ACOG scope. Sure enough, sitting on the edge of the bay with his feet in the water was some kind of swamp elemental. Great. I’m glad we loaded for bear.

  “What’s the word?” Rico asked.

  “We wait. I want it all—not just the dirty money, but the clean money too. Once we have them, we can figure out where our C4 is, not to mention winning about two million points with the Coast Guard for doing their job,” Bill said.

  Chapter 18

  I forced my breathing to slow down. Waiting was always nerve-wracking. The boats appeared on the horizon and slowed down as they approached the artificial dock. Clearly, they had done this before since they didn’t hesitate to drive them right to the dock where they pulled to a stop, two on either side. There were four boats, three men on each boat, all armed with either pistols or SMGs. That was okay, I could handle eighteen armed combatants. Probably.

  “This would be a lot easier with powers, Spice.”

  Nothing.

  “When this is over, we’re going to have a come to Jesus moment, and I don’t think you’re going to like the way it goes.”

  Nothing.

  Whatever.

  I made sure my rifle was ready. I had great sight lines on the boats and the trucks. I made a mental note of who had the keys to the boats. The drivers were only armed with pistols, while the guards had some kind of AK47 variant with folding stocks. I’m sure they thought they were badass for carrying the world’s most prolific rifle. I would take range over brute force, especially since I determined the rules of this engagement.

  Once the boats were docked, Swamp-boy stood up and yawned, making a great show of laziness. He made his way to the first truck. The leader of the party keyed in a security code then pulled the tailgate down and the cargo cover up. Swamp-boy reached forward; vines, twigs, and living branches grew out of his hand and wrapped around the money. With no more effort than I would use to take a beer out of the fridge, he pulled the stack of money out of the truck.

  Impressive.

  He walked with great ground shaking stomps, his wide feet looking more like tree trunks at this point, and put the first pallet of money down on the dock. He then turned back and unloaded the second truck, stacking the cash on top of the first pile. I smiled evilly, this was perfect.

  When he put down the fourth pallet, I checked the time; three minutes on the dot. The two men in charge exchanged a few words and typed in some information on funky looking cell phones. I needed to add binoculars to my list of carrying equipment. I also made a mental note to grab one of the phones. They were larger than normal cell phones, with red cases and noticeable antenna. Sat phones maybe?

  After a few minutes they shook hands. Swamp-boy moved to unload the first boat, reaching in with his prehensile vines and lifting the pallet of money out of the cargo section to set it down neatly, and separately, next to the existing cargo.

  I checked the timer; twenty seconds. I took a bead on the leader of the boats, hovering my iron sights over his chest as I breathed in deeply, then let it out slowly, counting silently along with the detonator. At one second before the detonation I fired. I timed it so well that the rifle shot and the explosion happened almost simultaneously.

  The pallet of cash exploded outward, engulfing the other four pallets in a wave of force. The shockwave knocked the closest men off their feet and the nearest pallets of cash bla
sted apart like confetti poppers on Mardi Gras.

  Boat-leader caught the round right where I wanted him to, in the chest. He fell backward and I followed up with a second shot, making sure he would never get up again. Since I knew the explosion was coming, I didn’t flinch, just acted. I switched angle to the other leader, hovered my sights over him for a half second, and fired while he was still trying to stand up. He spun around as the bullet struck. I put a follow-up into him as well. Burning cash fell from the sky and the water filled up with hundred-dollar bills. It was a good day’s work.

  Then the real gunfire started. From the beach on the right four camouflaged men with black-striped faces came out of the woods moving in a tactical crouch, sweeping their guns back and forth, firing at a near full-auto rate.

  With the Army team on the scene I decided just to go for one of the phones and get out. They had it well in hand. I rolled over and was considering my best plan for exfil when I heard the noise. More boats.

  I flopped over and peeked my head up; not a boat, an old WW2 style landing craft. It hit the far side of the beach, running up onto the sand a good twenty feet. The front opened and fifty guys with SMGs, shotguns, rifles, and blades came rushing out, shooting at the army team.

  Then the supers arrived, and things escalated quickly.

  Chapter 19

  This was all my fault. The only reason they had an ambush waiting was me. The Army team walked right into a trap meant for me. I punched the ground next to me in frustration. The smart play would be to run. Let them take out the Army guys and think they were behind the whole thing. Then I could attack with impunity and not risk outing myself.

  That would be the smart thing… but not the right one.

  I rolled onto my knees and shouldered the rifle. I had them flanked as they ran toward the Army team, who had all taken cover except for one surfer looking dude who just walked down the middle of the beach. It took me a second but then I realized bullets were ricocheting off him. That was good. I popped off an entire mag, taking out a half dozen guys as they charged forward.

  Several saw me and turned their guns my way. Then the high-powered bark of a sniper rifle echoed over the small arms fire and another ISO went down with a spray of pink mist where his head used to be.

  Nice.

  I jumped up, running for the trucks and for cover. The beach exploded around me in a hail of gunfire, kicking up dirt and sand. I slid feet first behind a truck, falling to my side as I came to a halt, firing my rifle the entire time. The slide locked back, and I hit the release, dropping the twenty round magazine while I fished out the replacement. It took a second, but I slammed it home. The force of the reload unlocked the slide and it jammed a round into the chamber for me.

  I had a second to catch my breath and scan the beach for the two super-powered enforcers who showed up with the landing craft. One was engulfed in flame, burning like a walking bonfire, tossing fireballs at the Army team. The other, a girl who couldn’t have seen more birthdays than I had, ran off the ship and leaped into the air. She turned into a ball of green gas with a weird face as she filled the air and moved sedately toward the Army team. She wasn’t fast but I had a feeling whatever gas she turned into was deadly. Fire guy first

  A punk with a sawed-off shotgun whirled around the truck and pointed the 12-gauge at me with a smile like he had won first prize at the state fair. “I’m gonna be rich!”

  I kicked out, connecting with the barrel and sending it flying upward as he pulled the trigger. The boom was deafening. Buckshot hit above my head so close some of it landed in my hair. I kip-upped while he stumbled backward trying to recover from the unexpected recoil. I sidestepped him as he brought the gun back down and knife handed his throat, grabbing the shotgun as I pulled my hand back. He wasn’t ready and the gun came out of his hands easily. I continued my momentum and spun, bringing my booted foot against the side of his head in a roundhouse that would have shattered wood. He flew sideways, instantly unconscious. I dropped the shotgun, brought up the M4, and fired once into his chest before moving on.

  Anyone who came armed to this fight, came to kill. They didn’t deserve my sympathy. I just wished he wasn’t so damn young. I lost track of Bonfire as he moved behind one of the remaining piles of cash. Gaseous was halfway to the Army team and I had a guess they didn’t know how to deal with her. Like I do.

  Something nagged at the back of my mind… like I was forgetting something. Then it hit me—a tree trunk slammed into my side. Ribs cracked and pain raced through me as I flew through the air like a tossed ball. Only my reflexes saved me as I hit the ground, rolling with the momentum to bleed off as much of the energy of the fall as I could.

  I looked up groggily, grasping for the M4, but it was gone. Swamp-boy had an entire pickup truck above his head as he marched toward me. He was thirty feet away and from the way he struggled, I guessed that the truck was at the limit of his strength.

  How the hell could I fight a living tree… I scrambled backward, trying to put my feet under me but nothing was working the way I wanted it to. All I could think about was how I would die here, and that my mission was done. Finished. Over. Like me. Everything I worked so hard for gone up in flames… Oh.

  I pulled the Beretta Storm out, cocked it, took a heartbeat to aim, and fired. Three rounds, one right after the other, hit the gas tank under the truck, two on the bottom and one on the side to vent air. Gasoline poured down onto the living tree in heaps. He took two more steps before he noticed it.

  The problem is, gasoline won’t ignite by shooting it. Maybe if I had tracer bullets burning with magnesium. I was just hoping he didn’t know that.

  “Back off or I light it up,” I said over the cacophony of gunshots on the beach. He paused for a second, looking up at the truck spilling the flammable gas on him, then at me.

  “I don’t think so.”

  The high-powered rifle barked again, and a military grade tracer slammed into the back of Swamp-boy, the gasoline pouring down on him ignited immediately and he screamed, dropping the truck on his own head and folding like a card house.

  I made a mental note to thank that sniper at a later date. The truck didn’t explode but it did burst into flames. I had a feeling the super was still alive, just knocked senseless—but he wouldn’t be out for long.

  The regular shooters were dug in, expecting a rival gang, not the US military. The Army guys were dishing out the hurt. The only problem for them was that Gaseous had reached their invulnerable guy and was encircling him. From the way he dug at his eyes and throat I could tell she was killing him.

  He was only twenty feet from the blown-up cash that was slowly turning into a blaze, sped up by the fact that Bonfire was next to it tossing fireballs and laughing maniacally as he did his best to burn the soldiers and anyone else who got in his way… except Gaseous. He carefully avoided hitting anywhere near her, just keeping the other three pinned while the ambush crept closer, trying to flank the Army team or dig in behind cover and outwait them.

  I glanced back at the burning truck, then toward the dock and how close Bonfire was to the solid water construction.

  That gave me a really bright idea. I ran toward the landing craft, my feet pounding the sand as hard as I could, while I made sure there wasn’t anyone behind me. Halfway to the water I turned hard and ran right for Bonfire.

  Everything Swamp-boy had done, suddenly vanished. The solid water dock splashed to the ground like a dropped fishbowl. A four-foot tall wave hit Bonfire with a sizzle as his flames were instantly extinguished by the overwhelming wave of water. I splashed through it, running as hard as I could as the water hit me. I ended up having to jump run to get through it.

  As the water receded, steam rose up off of Bonfire. I could shoot him now but that would defeat the purpose. Instead I leaped at the last second, connecting with his lower back and slamming him forward—not as hard as I could have. I didn’t want to knock him down, just push him forward.

  A bullet hit my arm
and I grunted in pain as it bounced off my humerus. My right arm went instantly numb, causing me to drop the Beretta Storm. That was okay, though; I could do this one-handed. Gritting my teeth, I continued my assault, throwing punch after punch at the Asian man who had appeared under all that flame. He wasn’t used to hand-to-hand and I wasn’t trying to hurt him, just maneuver him.

  After ten seconds of this, he smiled and held his hands out like they were torches.

  “Now you burn,” he said.

  “Close,” I replied. I did a forward snap kick with such speed he didn’t have time to react. My foot caught him in the chest, sending him back the final four steps just as he ignited his hands… while surrounded by gaseous vapor. I’ll take Fuel Air Bomb for the win, Alex.

  Of course, I was standing ten feet away from them when she went off.

  No one’s perfect.

  Chapter 20

  Krisan tried to make out the chaotic mess that was the footage from the drones. She could tell there was gunfire, then the other ship just showed up out of nowhere and crashed into the beach and what seemed like hundreds of people jumped off and joined the fray. She chewed her lower lip in worry. Bill and his men were only here because she had told them about it. If they died here it would be her fault. Hers.

  That thought didn’t sit well with her. She liked to believe everyone was a product of their own choices. Bill and his men had made theirs and she could no more be responsible for those than she could for Madi’s.

  The feed was in black and white and ended when a massive white light lit up. With all the cloud cover the afternoon was on the dark side of things, but the giant fireball rising into the sky two miles distant was unmistakable. The feeds didn’t come back on after that.