Superhero by Night Omnibus

by Jeffery H. Haskell

  It was another thing to file away for a different day. I had bigger things to worry about. ISO-1 had five more top leaders in the city, each one in charge of a different section of the planet. Each one responsible for countless crimes against people. Individuals like me, whose lives were ruined by the actions of an evil whose only goal was more evil. That had to stop.

  My phone rang, startling me. I hit the button on the dash to activate the speaker.

  “I’m all set up,” Krisan’s voice came to me. It was a comfort to me, having her along. Even with Spice to talk to, the journey was lonely.

  “Awesome. Okay. Look into those phones and find a broker or a contact—someone who is in charge of the hits. Maybe I can take them out or get them to hold the bounty long enough for me to do what I came here to do.”

  “One second… looking,” she said.

  Then I noticed the black van shadowing me. It changed lanes the last time I did. The trick to spotting a tail—and to losing it—isn’t just to drive fast, but also to drive stupid.

  I slowed down to ten miles under the speed limit. When a right turn came up I put on my turn signal, started to turn, then pulled a hard left in a lazy U-turn. Traffic honked but it wasn’t dangerous, just stupid. I drove back the way I had come and the van turned right. I watched them pull a hasty U-turn and come back on the road.

  I turned into a side road, floored it down the to the stop sign, pulled a hard left, floored it again, another left, and less than a minute later I was back on the road where I spotted the tail, and heading in my original direction. They were still trying to figure out which way I went after my first left turn.

  Good times.

  “You back?” I asked Krisan.

  “It looks like the broker is a man named Ricardo Gonzalo. I’m trying to dig you up an address right now.”

  “Okay. I’m going to scout it out. Once it’s dark and I can use all my powers, I’ll strike.”

  Chapter 7

  I’ve hung out on my fair share of marinas. They’re usually populated with expensive boats the owners only use once in a very great while; Marina Del Mar doesn’t look any different: other than the armed security patrolling the docks and the not one, but two drones patrolling the sky—probably with night vision cameras.

  O to the marina bought a cheap pair of binoculars to scope the situation out. The particular boat I was looking for was on a pier all by itself. I’d spent the night on more expensive boats, but not by much. Fifty feet long, and all the amenities that came with a diesel-powered yacht. The yacht itself was a party in full swing. From what I could tell, Ricardo was quite the party guy. I counted at least thirty people swilling expensive alcohol and pretending to dance.

  There was too much light. The marina had floodlights and lamp posts nearly everywhere. That wouldn’t do… but like most public areas, the electric lines weren’t exactly hidden.

  I eased out of the car. The door closed with a barely audible click. Keeping to the shadows as much as possible I made my way to the pole that held the lines that led from the marina to the city’s power grid. I had a very small block of c4; I slapped it on the pole about four feet up from the ground, set the timer for one minute, and hit the button.

  Since it can be shaped to do just about everything from cutting metal to blowing a tire, C4 is a useful tool. In this case, it would bring the pole down and the wires with it.

  I found a dark shadow to hide in two hundred feet away; I didn’t have to wait long. The ‘bang’ of the explosive lit up the night. Chunks of wood sprayed the area followed by sparks leaping through the night as the pole toppled, bringing the power lines down in a crackle of discharging electricity. The flood and stall lights went out immediately. All the boat lights went out as well. I’m always underwhelmed by C4. It really wasn’t as impressive as they show in the movies.

  Perfect.

  People celebrating on Ricardo’s boat four-hundred feet away panicked for a second, then I heard a strong voice reassure them everything was fine, saying something about the city’s unreliable power grid. A second later their onboard lights and music returned and the guest settled down, though it looked like a few decided to leave.

  Dang. Backup generator.

  Several of the larger boat’s lights returned as they also had their own power source.

  I took a moment to focus and found a smaller, empty, shadowed boat five down from the target. I stood in a deep shadow and the weird thing happened to my vision where the shadows become light and the light becomes shadows and I could see in the dark.

  I triggered my shadow step. A rush of cold and a second later I was on the boat. It rocked from my sudden appearance and I took a second to let it calm down before I moved on. I took things slowly because I didn’t want to get in a firefight, not with all those innocent people hanging around. Well, if they were his guests they probably weren’t innocent, but they weren’t my problem, not right then.

  In a few minutes, I had made my way onto the boat directly opposite theirs. I could see into the windows of the yacht, and with my enhanced vision I could tell which staterooms were empty. I chose one and vanished.

  I had spent the night in five-star hotels that were less luxurious than the room I appeared in. Whomever this guy was, money wasn’t an issue. Too bad he couldn’t take it with him.

  Then I waited. It was already after midnight; the party wouldn’t last much longer.

  Forty-five minutes later the music died down and guests started departing. With my enhanced senses, I heard Ricardo say goodbye to each guest by their first name. Either the guy had a lot of good friends or he had some kind of photographic memory.

  My phone vibrated silently. I pulled it out to see what Krisan wanted—she was the only person who had the number.

  Status?

  Hurry up and wait. Standby.

  It was a joke Joseph had told me many times. Half this life was rushing to position, only to wait for hours for the ideal moment. My plan was simple; either force Ricardo to put a hold on the bounty, or take his phone and have Krisan withdraw it, pretending to be him.

  I decided that I needed a backup plan, so I pulled another small block of C4 from my go-bag, spent a minute shaping it into a wedge, and attached a cell detonator to it. Placing it under the bed would not only hide it, but would help direct the energy downward. All I would have to do was text a number—or I could have Krisan do it.

  Thumping from the other side of the wall told me people were coming downstairs. That meant the party was over... or just getting started.

  I moved silently to the door and pressed my ear up against it. Even with my enhanced hearing, it still paid to be thorough.

  “Thank you, Jorge. Tell the crew to clean up tomorrow—they can have the rest of the night off.”

  “Si, señor. I’ll inform them.”

  The cabin boy left, thumping his way back up the stairs. Ricardo walked past the door I was hiding behind, down the hall to the end and opened another door before I couldn’t hear him anymore.

  I waited a good thirty seconds for anyone else; when I didn’t hear a sound, I proceeded carefully, moving as quiet as a shadow across a field. The hall was empty. Little night lights lined the floor, casting a pale glow on me.

  I slipped out, moving as silent as a shadow down the carpeted floor toward the door at the end of the hall where I heard Ricardo go. I drew the Walther, pushing the barrel back a quarter inch to arm it. There was already a round in the chamber. There was something refreshing about a pure combat gun, no safety, no mechanism to keep me from using it in a hurry, just squeeze the trigger and bang.

  At the door, I stopped to listen again. I could hear movement inside; the toilet flushed, then walking, followed by the squeak of the bed.

  I carefully tried the handle; it wasn’t locked. I waited some more, making sure to keep one eye on the way I came so no one could sneak up behind me. When I heard him go back into the bathroom, I opened the door an inch, enough to see the far side of the ro
om. A shadow step later and I was on the other side of his bed, crouching down behind an opulent nightstand.

  He came back in, walked past the bed to the nightstand and I made my move.

  I pressed the barrel against the back of his head and he froze, his hands going up, fast enough to keep me happy, but not so fast I thought he would try anything.

  “Whoever you are, you must be very good to get past my security. Would you like a job?”

  I chuckled. Ballsy.

  “No, Mr. Gonzalo. I want you to pull the bounty ISO-1 placed on me. Since he needed to know who I was, I wasn’t “wraithed-up.” No red scarf, no glowing eyes, no scary voice. I debated this internally and decided that if he didn’t cooperate, him knowing who I was would be the least of his problems.

  “Ms. Dumas, I presume?”

  I stayed silent. Just because I wasn’t going full-on Wraith, didn’t mean I couldn’t intimidate him. I had no problem letting the silence stretch out; I knew it had to make him nervous. “I would very much like to help you, I really would. But once the fee is paid, it’s out of my hands.”

  Ricardo was an older gentleman, maybe in his fifties, with a little silver speckled is his hair. He certainly had the suave look down: Gold rings, a single silver necklace, nice clothes, and a trimmed goatee.

  “Where is your cell phone?” I asked him. If I couldn’t do it one way...

  “I don’t have one,” he said with a smile in his voice. “Technology is unreliable.”

  I ground my teeth together. That wasn’t part of the plan. No cell phone, no contact list to steal. “How do you put the word out, then?” I asked him.

  “I’m happy to cooperate with you. May I sit down? Standing with my back to you isn’t doing my heart any favors.”

  I pulled the gun back, holstering it as I stepped away from him. With my powers, I could have it back out in a flash and drill him… or anyone else who came through the door.

  He walked back over to his bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard then bringing his legs up and crossing them at the ankle like he was getting ready for a good night’s sleep.

  “These days everything is on the Internet, yes? Not me, though. I send actual letters. Hand written with my seal on them. Then they are sent to drop boxes all over the world and from there the word goes out. So you see, I cannot simply rescind the hit on you.”

  That didn’t make any sense. “Why would you have a system you can’t stop?”

  “I deal with criminals, Ms. Dumas. How many of my clients do you think would change their mind about ordering an assassination?” he asked with a smile. “Really, in twenty-five years I’ve never had anyone change their mind. This system is set up so it can’t be faked and can’t be undone; once the process is initiated, it carries on to its natural conclusion.”

  Truth.

  Whatever it was about the Wraith that let me know when someone was lying, it worked then. I growled, brushing my fingers against the butt of my pistol, warring with myself whether I should just off the guy or not.

  “Do you work for ISO-1?” I asked him.

  He shook his head. “No.” Truth.

  “Give me a reason not to kill you?” I asked him.

  His eyes went wide. “When they put the bounty out on you, they didn’t say why... I assumed you crossed them in some way, but now... you’re the person who has sent their organization into such disarray, aren’t you?”

  There was something admirable about this man that didn’t line up with his job. Here he was, perfectly happy to have a conversation with me when I could kill him at any moment. I leaned against the far bulkhead, crossing my arms under my chest and scrutinizing him, deciding how much I could tell him in an effort to get more information.

  “Yes.”

  He laughed, which I didn’t expect. “No wonder it took them so long to figure out it was you! They would never expect such actions from a mere fashion model,” he said. I shrugged; me either. “Now that I know who you are, I have good news for you.”

  I raised an eyebrow at that. “What?”

  “I would very much like to help you on your quest,” he said. Truth.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Then lift the bounty.”

  He sighed. “As I explained, I cannot. But...” he raised a hand to hold off my comeback. “I can provide you with something even better.”

  I pushed off the wall and stalked to the foot of his bed. Every muscle twitched with anticipation of some kind of trap.

  “What is that?”

  He smiled, putting his behind his head and leaning back. “The truth.”

  Chapter 8

  I shook my head. I didn’t know what game this man was playing, but I knew how to win it. “You mean the truth about how ISO-1 is a drug running, human trafficking international gang that wants what all gangs with power want... more power? You mean that truth?”

  He shook his head. “That’s a version of the truth. Up until two years ago, it was the whole truth. Now, there is more. Would my telling you this truth keep me alive, or would you end up killing me anyway? If it’s all the same to you, I would prefer to live,” he said with his charismatic smile.

  I moved my hand away from the holstered pistol. “I guess it depends on if you really are telling me the truth or not. Bear in mind, I can always tell, so please, go on.”

  He nodded, taking a moment to think about his next words.

  “Two years ago ISO-1 changed leadership, from Hector Alvarez, the man who brought several disparate gangs together, to a new leader. A man known only as Mr. Axiom. He has superpowers, as you may have guessed, as do many in ISO-1.”

  I shifted slightly. Far too many people in this stupid gang had superpowers. That was, of course, their trademark. Using powers while committing crimes brought severe punishment in most countries, the US included. For the most part, it kept people in check. However, there are always bad people. There is no law that can stop evil from being evil.

  “Go on,” I said with a nod.

  “Mr. Axiom has spread the influence of ISO-1 far beyond what it was, and he’s done so in a short amount of time. If you ever wondered why you never heard of them before a few years ago, this is why. He can... compel people to tell him the truth. And when they promise him something... they have to deliver it. Don’t ask me how it works,” he said, holding up his hand to forestall my questions. “I don’t know. Just that if a person agrees to do something for him, even if they are lying, they are forced to do it. He’s turned undercover police, covert operatives, anyone and everyone that has gone after him. He is power.”

  I grinned, letting him know that I didn’t care. “Ricardo, I didn’t get here because I’m a girl scout. In the last 24 hours alone I’ve killed tougher and deadlier people than someone who can compel the truth. If this is all you have, then I’m afraid it isn’t enough.” I pulled my pistol.

  “It isn’t. Please. Wait. I can’t tell you where he’s located, we have the same goal, Ms. Dumas. I want ISO-1 stopped as much as you do.”

  “I seriously doubt that. Or did they kill your entire family on Thanksgiving and leave you for dead?”

  He shook his head. “No, but what they do... I’m sure you’re aware of their human trafficking?”

  “I’ve stopped a fair share of it,” I said.

  “What you aren’t aware of is that two out of every five people trafficked disappear once they hit the port. They don’t turn up dead. They aren’t sold to brothels or Eastern Europe. They simply disappear.” Truth.

  Now that was interesting. “Go on?”

  “I don’t know what happens to them, but my people tell me that ships arrive weekly with between five hundred and a thousand women and girls, but only two-thirds of them are sold. Where are the rest? Unless they are burying the bodies deep in the rain forest, they have to be going somewhere?”

  “And what? Murder is okay for you but you draw the line at human trafficking?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I told you, even if you lie
to him, he makes you do the things you promised to do. I was an INTERPOL agent, sent here to bring down ISO-1. When I moved up to take over this part of the black market, I didn’t realize I would be forced to do so for him. I don’t know if he knew I was INTERPOL when he made me the offer, but since then... I have to do this job to the best of my ability—I have no choice. That doesn’t mean I can’t point you in the right direction.”

  Truth. And Wow. That sucked. I really had no idea what to say. “I’m sorry,” was all that I ended up with.

  “So you see, Ms. Dumas, I’ve lost everything too,” he said, turning his eyes down. He was clearly in pain over the things he had done under the coercion of Mr. Axiom.

  “Tell me what I need to know?” I asked.

  “Rodrigo Alvarez—yes, the same Alvarez, it’s his cousin. He’s in charge of the trafficking network. All roads lead to Belize. Then the packages are sent out to the rest of the world. He may know what happens to the ones who don’t leave, or he may not. But it is the place to start.”

  I nodded. “Okay, I’ll find him and—” I felt it before I heard it. A vibration, followed by running footsteps on the deck then down the stairs and right toward our door. I cocked my head to the side. “You’ve been stalling me?”

  He nodded. “We all do what we have to do, it doesn’t mean what I said wasn’t true.” Truth.

  “Fine.”

  I drew the gun and put three rounds through the door, nailing the guy on the other side right in the chest. I ran at the door, kicking it hard, knocking it off the hinges and onto the already fallen body. The small hall was filled with black-suited thugs wielding pistols, frozen into inaction for just a second—they weren’t expecting me to come to them.

  Their malaise ended. I was ready for it. I leaped forward, sliding under the first bullet and kicking the lead guy in the crotch. He folded and I opened fire; two in him, two in the next guy.