Superhero by Night Omnibus

by Jeffery H. Haskell

  I kicked him off me into the crowd, knocking down several of them as they tried to get off a clean shot. I leaped up, shouldering the next one as I shot him and the two behind him.

  I slapped a hand aside as it went for my head, ducked down and put a round in the last guy as he tried to reach for me.

  Then it hit, the rush, the euphoria as strength poured into me.

  “I hope you’re happy,” I said to Spice, even though she wasn’t there. The hall was littered with bodies. I could hear more coming down the pier, but I didn’t want a prolonged firefight.

  It was time to go.

  The cell phone beeped as I pressed the send button. Two seconds later a deafening bang blew the door off its hinges and the entire boat shuddered. I heard more men holler outside as they were thrown off their feet and into the water from the sudden tilt of the boat.

  I ran for it, charging up the stairs, firing as I went, leaping from body to body. The last guy in line at the very top had grabbed the railing. I put my last two rounds in him and shouldered his twitching body aside.

  That’s when the automatic fire started; this wasn’t just a backup security team, it was a frigging army. The pier was filled with grunts in tactical gear carrying FNARs, powerful battle rifles that fired a .308 round. Big enough for the wound to hurt like hell, and healing from them would take time I didn’t have.

  As I turned for the opposite side and ran, I slammed a new mag home and fired blindly behind me. The rush of energy told me I scored at least one hit. Then I was off the boat, sailing through the black to splash into the cold water of the bay.

  I surfaced for one second, took a long breath, and dove down as far as I could go, turning sharply to the left. No need to make it easy.

  They kept peppering the water directly away from the boat as if I had swum in a straight line.

  To my surprise, I was able to hold my breath for almost five minutes while swimming. I wasn’t even that good of a swimmer.

  When I finally came up I was soaked, cold, exhausted, and gasping for breath. I was also easily half-a-mile away from the yacht.

  “Awesome,” I muttered to myself. “I’ve got to remember that one.”

  Chapter 9

  It only took me an hour to make my way back to the car with all the extra people around, sneak in and head out. I needed to reorient my plans and I did that best while doing something else. I headed for the low rent area and found a seedy motel. I tossed a hundred on the desk and received a key. No paperwork, no check-in, just a key.

  The room was rundown like I expected, but the shower worked and that was all I needed. A nice, long, hot shower to think.

  I hated the human trafficking that ISO-1 seemed to make their bread and butter on. After all, why waste time with drugs when kidnapping and sex trafficking could make so much more?

  Bastards.

  I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. Anger would get me killed. I needed to be cold, dispassionate, focused.

  I turned off the shower, wrapped myself in a towel and dialed Krisan.

  “Hello?” she asked in a semi-sleepy voice.

  “It’s me. I need everything you can find on Rodrigo Alvarez. He’s the head of the trafficking ring for ISO-1 and my new target.”

  “Give me an hour and I’ll have it.”

  She hung up the phone. I didn’t have anything to do while I waited. I contemplated cleaning my pistol, but Joseph always said never take your gun apart in the middle of an operation. Since I didn’t have a backup piece at the moment, I settled for reloading the spent magazine.

  Sure enough, an hour of watching Spanish language TV later, the phone beeped.

  “Go for Madi,” I said.

  “Aren’t we all tactical,” Krisan said mockingly.

  “You have something for me, Kris?” I asked, a little annoyed. I didn’t like being made fun of. I took this stuff seriously. I know she didn’t, but I did.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to rile you up. I know how much this stuff means to you. I’ll do better,” she said.

  I shrugged it off. It really was a dumb thing to get upset about. “Don’t sweat it, I’m just tired. What did you find?”

  She let out a giggle. “So much. He’s a real playboy. If you imagine the lifestyle of a gangster who is also a social butterfly, you would get Rodrigo Alvarez. He goes to parties, clubs, concerts, you name it. His cover is an international modeling agency, ‘Once Upon a Dream,’ and he plays it to the hilt as the head of the agency.”

  Once Upon... I wanted to throw up. I’d almost taken a job with them a few years back. “One sec.” I put the phone down to my side and held my head up as I took a few deep breaths.

  It could have been me. My mind reeled at the thought. How many girls I knew signed with them and vanished? How many had come into his organization thinking their ship had sailed only to have it turn into a nightmare?

  Once I could speak again, think again, I picked the phone up.

  “Go ahead,” I said. My voice was thick and my breath came in gasps.

  “You okay, hon?” she asked.

  “No. I won’t ever be okay. Just, tell me what you have.”

  “Right. So party boy lives on his own private island in what’s called ‘The Drowned Cays.’ He has a mansion, private dock, airstrip, the whole bit. It looks like the shipments come in on Fridays and depart on Monday. Weekends are just one big party for him. I don’t see anything on anyone’s phone about alternate shipments, though. You’ll have to get me his phone for that.”

  Krisan has the most useful power in the world for gathering intelligence. Read peoples email, text messages, contact list? All just by calling them or touching their phone? Awesome.

  “I think I can manage that. Okay, I have to get ready.”

  “For what?”

  “It’s Friday. I’ve got a party to crash.”

  Chapter 10

  Eight years ago...

  “Madisun, you coming out with us?” Neve asked her roommate.

  “Not tonight. You have fun though. Wait, where are you going?”

  Her friend, a knockout with flowing red hair and brilliant blue eyes, was destined for stardom. Madi knew it, the agency knew it, everyone knew it.

  Neve smiled. “You know I signed with Once Upon a Dream. They’re taking all the girls who signed out on the town before we leave for Belize.”

  Madi sighed. She’d almost signed with them, but she hated flying. Hated it. And their contract was exclusively non-US, which meant a lot of flying. Even the short flight back home to New Orleans was almost too much.

  “No, go ahead, have fun. I’m going to see if I can’t drum up some work for the rest of the month.”

  Neve gave her a sympathetic look. “You’ll get there Madi. You’ve got skillz, babe,” she said with a laugh. Madi waved goodbye as Neve left the room.

  Skills indeed.

  In the last month she had managed to find two editorial gigs, which was good, but it wasn’t going to keep her employed. She’d assumed that when an agency hired her they would take care of finding the jobs. They did, sometimes; most of the time she had to hustle and find them herself.

  Lucky for her the guy who ran the job board liked her and allowed her to access it on weekends. She had to go out on dates with him here and there, but he really was a nice guy and didn’t try anything untoward.

  I think he just likes telling his friends he’s dating a model.

  Madi had made it clear that after the disaster of her short-lived marriage she wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship. Nothing that would distract her from the goal at hand; success.

  She shut the laptop in frustration. There wasn’t anything. Maybe in the morning she could look again. It was late, and unless she wanted to have bags under her eyes it was time to hit the sack.

  When she woke up the next morning she took a minute to stretch nice and long, but something was off. Her room was empty. Or, empty of Neve’s things. She picked up the phone and called down to s
ecurity.

  “My roommate’s things are all gone. Is she coming back?”

  “No, ma’am. She and a few other girls left for Belize early this morning.”

  “Oh, okay.” She hung up the phone and stared at the wall. Her disappointment at not getting to say goodbye to her friend was overshadowed by the feeling she’d made a huge mistake not signing with Once Upon a Dream. What if that was her shot and she blew it?

  “Well,” she said to herself, “time will tell.”

  Chapter 11

  Mimic passed through the airport like any other young woman on vacation. She left as an elderly woman with silver-blue hair, and got out of the taxi as a teenage girl. All with similar height and weight so she wouldn’t have to stop and change clothes.

  It was... uncomfortable for her to maintain the same visage for too long. She liked the feeling of her body reforming around her as she shifted. Sometimes she would just walk through crowds brushing people’s hands and changing every few seconds. The change itself didn’t take long—usually a few seconds, but longer if she was significantly changing height.

  The cab dropped her off at a fancy high-rise that stretched up high into the bright sun. She wasn’t a fan of the heat; she’d just left Mexico and while it was cooler here, it wasn’t much.

  In the building, she entered the downstairs restroom. She opened the handicap stall and locked the door behind her. The handbag she carried with her had two things; a change of clothes and vial of preserved DNA. She pressed her finger into the vial and transformed into a tall redhead with bright green eyes. After she put on the skinny jeans and tank top from her handbag, she found the elevator that went to the penthouse. There was a guard, of course. He smiled as she walked up to him.

  “Private elevator, señorita, move along,” he said with a serious tone.

  Mimic smiled back as she walked up. “I’m expected,” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow but reached in his coat and triggered his radio. She couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation but she could guess how it went.

  “He wants proof,” the guard said.

  Mimic, maintaining her smile, reached out and touched the man's chin. Two seconds later he was staring into a mirror image of himself, albeit with the body of a slender model wearing skinny jeans and a too small tank top. She slipped her hand into the bag she carried and touched the redhead’s DNA to morph back. After ten years of doing what she did, she’d lost her Irish accent and forgotten what she had looked like when her powers manifested. But this was a nod to her heritage.

  “Good enough?” she said slyly.

  He nodded. “Good enough.” The elevator dinged open and he stepped aside, waving her in. “Have a nice day, señorita.”

  She nodded, entered the elevator, and waited. The door shut and the box lifted up. There were no buttons on the inside—not even the standard fire button. Anyone in this lift was at the absolute mercy of the man upstairs.

  She would be lying if she said that didn’t make her nervous. She’d seen a movie once where the elevator opened up into a pool of sharks, and she moved to the back and placed her feet as close to the edge as she could. She didn’t feel like having that happen to her.

  The doors opened without incident into a massive suite. Sunlight flashed through bay windows overlooking the ocean. A large sunken living room held a white leather couch. Off to the side, there was a big mahogany table. At the far end of the room was a plush bed and comforter, not too far away from a hot tub. Clearly whoever lived here loved an open floor plan.

  All that open space sent a shiver up her spine. There was nowhere to hide. No cover. No place to duck behind. If anyone came into this room by force, they’d be cut to ribbons if security was waiting for them.

  “Nice room,” she said, walking toward the only visible man there.

  “Thank you,” Hector Alvarez said. “Drink?”

  She nodded. Poison and drugs weren’t an issue for her. For whatever reason, her body could assimilate almost any substance in a few seconds. She took the drink and sipped the expensive champagne while she waited.

  “You can look like anyone?” he asked out of the blue.

  Since they were paying her a hundred thousand just to have this meeting, she humored him by reaching out and touching his arm; she looked like him, again in skinny jeans and a tank top. It made him chuckle and she switched back.

  “How long can you maintain a form?” he asked.

  She raised an eyebrow at the question. Normally she didn’t like divulging her secrets to anyone; especially someone who could use it against her. So she lied.

  “Twelve hours,” she said with a straight face. It was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. She could do it forever if she wanted, it just didn’t feel good after twelve hours. Plus she didn’t want clients thinking they could blackmail her or buy her to permanently replace someone they lost.

  “Interesting,” he replied. “I have a job for you.”

  “Is it like the last one you hired me for? Because standing around in a room ranting about killing people is easy money.”

  He smiled. “No. Sadly this one is dangerous. Though it does involve that woman. Are you interested?”

  Mimic thought about it for a moment, letting her gaze wander out onto the ocean. She hadn’t known at the time who she was mimicking, but now everyone knew who Madisun Dumas was. Perhaps the most dangerous woman on the planet to criminals like ISO-1.

  “Double my usual fee,” she said.

  “Done.”

  Dammit. I should have said triple.

  “Who am I mimicking?” she asked with a sigh.

  Chapter 12

  Like most small islands, it had no name. Why bother when they can be bought and sold? This one had a beautiful, tastefully subdued mansion on it. Only two stories—more like a resort than a place to live. Considering some of the storms that rolled through here, I wasn’t surprised. Far easier to rebuild a place like this than an actual mansion.

  My little Zodiac putted slowly through the wind-roughened waters as I made my way to the lee side of the island, letting the breeze blow over me as I ran the rubber raft up on the sandy shore. I had a completely black outfit on; cargo pants, combat boots, a tough long sleeve shirt. My hair was in dreads and tied back into a tight ponytail that blew in the strong wind.

  The only exception to my all black was the red scarf I had pulled up over my mouth and nose; I wasn’t coming to the party as Madi, but the Wraith. I felt Spice’s anticipation. I hated it when she did that. It made me feel like a vampire. I checked the time; I had an hour until the boat arrived. An hour to clear the field.

  Krisan wasn’t able to find out how many men were on the island, but it had to be at least a dozen.

  Good thing I had come armed for bear: two pistols, a rifle, grenades, knives—everything I would need to kill everyone here and find out where they were taking the girls they kidnapped.

  I turned the little boat around, gunned the engine and let it run out to the sea; I would find another way back.

  This side of the mansion had several decks, and several windows with lights shining inside. The house itself had palm trees and rock gardens surrounding it along with a couple of pools.

  I made my way up to where the palm trees were and ducked down behind a large decorative rock formation to conduct a last-second equipment check—

  Subdued music wafted over the breeze. I heard laughing, tingling of glasses, and what sounded like dancing.

  Crap. I’m late.

  I checked the time again. Our info had to be wrong. The ‘shipment’ was already here and I couldn’t go in—guns blazing—without risking innocent lives. One of the reasons I was here was to save these girls, not get them killed.

  I scanned the two-story building again looking for a window that didn’t have a light on. The moon wasn’t out, lending a fairly dark shade to the night. The other side of the house was lit up; this side, not so much.

  I located a small, v
ertical window that had no light. Focusing on it, I took a step forward…. and appeared in a bathroom a second later, stepping out of the shadows on to the expensive tile floor.

  Empty.

  On the left was a pair of sinks set in a marble countertop with golden faucets. On the right was a walk in shower with see-through glass walls.

  I moved to the door and pressed my ear up against it. There was a party going on—I hadn’t heard it because of the wind. From what I could tell, the house was half-moon shaped and they had a deck that was guarded from the majority of the wind.

  My cell phone vibrated.

  I just found out they have two shipments this week. One is for the modeling agency, the other is from Mexico. The models may already be there.

  “Great,” I muttered. Here I was dressed to kill, literally, and there was a house full of women who thought they were about to become big-time international models.

  I heard steps outside the door. Heavy steps—too heavy for a woman. The Ka-bar came out of its sheath easy enough and I held it with the point up. As soon as the sound passed the door, I flung it open, wrapped one arm around the big man’s neck, and drove the point of the blade through his back and into his lungs.

  I yanked him back into the bathroom, threw him into the shower with a twist, then stabbed him one more time to make sure he died quietly.

  The rush of power filled me with a euphoria that never got old. I just wished it wasn’t tied to killing. I took a second to clean off the blade before shoving it back in its sheath.

  He had a phone, thank goodness. I dialed Krisan on it.

  “Yes?” she answered hesitantly.

  “It’s me. Do what you can with this phone.”

  “On it. Just toss it somewhere and leave the line connected. I’ll hang up when I’m done. Where are you?” she asked.

  “Second-floor bathroom.”

  I opened the bottom drawer under the marble countertop and placed the phone under several towels. Odds were that even if they came in here they wouldn’t be worried about a phone so much as the blood-soaked floor and dead body.