by S. J. Delos
Richard.
“Figures that asshole would pass out and manage to land with his face planted right between Scarlet Star’s legs,” said the other. “If he wasn’t so fucking rich, that dipshit would never get laid.”
I pressed on the com in my ear, praying silently that Contriver would pick up. With the field extending out who knew how far, she wouldn’t be able to send any Enhanced backup. However, she could at least call the regular police to let them know the situation going down.
The device in my ear clicked twice, but remained silent. I yanked it out, checked that the power was still flowing, and tried again. Nothing. It was like no one was home in the Justice Tower.
Of course, it could have just been the Delta Inducer interfering with the communication signal. Yeah, that’s it. Because the other option was way too scary to consider.
“Hey, flip him over. I’m going to shoot his dick off.”
I slipped out of the high heels and crouched down, keeping out of sight as I half-crawled, half-waddled into the ballroom.
One of the murderers, the one not holding a gun, was on his knees attempting to roll Richard out from between the legs of a busty, red-haired Amazon. I couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate the irony that if the warrior woman were awake to see where Captain Awesome had planted his mug, she would have killed him herself.
The other was trying to aim that big ass hand-cannon at Richard’s groin, patiently waiting for his buddy to move out of the line of fire.
I glanced down. Someone from the service staff had apparently dropped their tray of appetizers, probably when everyone around them collapsed. The circular silver platter at my feet was exactly what I needed. I picked it up from the carpet, gripping it along the edge like a Frisbee. I took in a deep breath and stood up.
Busy as they were attempting to neuter Captain Awesome, neither of the men noticed me. I drew back my arm, then flung the heavy serving platter as hard as I could at the one pointing his gun at my teammate. The sidearm throw sent the tray sailing like an over-sized discus zooming across the space between us to slam into the forearm of the hand holding the plasma pistol.
Either my throw was less powerful than I intended, or else the sleeve of his protective suit was reinforced. I had hoped the tray would cleave his arm right off, amputating it in the most painful, and bloody, manner. After what was done to Hyper-Sonica, it would be far less than he deserved.
However, the satisfying crunch of bones snapping like a bundle of dry twigs was its own small reward.
The plasma gun went flying as the killer spun around; stumbling, screaming, while holding a limb bent at an extremely unnatural angle. His feet tangled around Richard’s legs, causing him to fall, shrieking even louder as he landed on his injured arm.
His pal took a few seconds to react to the change in the plan. I guess with all the heroes asleep, neither of them expected to meet with any resistance. The mirrored faceplate glanced down at his fallen companion then back up to me as his hands fumbled with the clasp holding his own weapon in its holster.
Flexing my knees, I shot through the air over the tables between us. By the time he managed to get the gun loose, I was already on him, murderous fury boiling my blood.
I slammed into him, knocked his weapon away, and drove us both across the room. We hit the far wall, the impact cracking the reinforced plaster. The sound of the man’s breath being forced from his lungs came through the mouthpiece of the mask. Something under the armor in my hands popped loudly.
I hoped it was a couple of the asshole’s ribs.
“Now,” I growled, narrowing my eyes at my distorted reflection. “You’re going to tell me where the Delta Inducer is. Start talking or I’m going to start pulling off limbs.” To emphasize my sincerity, I grabbed one of the sturdy chest plates of his suit and tore it free, casually flinging it away.
The voice coming from behind the mask trembled. “You… you’re not supposed to be awake.”
“You’ll wish the hell I wasn’t if you don’t answer me.” I leaned into him, pushing my forearm against his chest, glaring at where I expected his eyes were. It took everything in me to not start breaking off body parts.
“I... I don’t know.” He reached up, grabbed my arm, and pulled, trying to get me to stop pressing him into the wall. He would have had better luck trying to move a bus. “I s-s-swear.”
“Bullshit!” I yelled, Grabbing the bottom of the helmet with my free hand, I ripped it off his head, dropping on the floor as I drew back my fist.
Incredible panic ran across his face. His gaze flicked up to the punch threatening to cave his skull in. Then his expression went slack, eyes rolling back in his head. A croaking gurgle sounded in his throat before his head flopped forward limply, chin resting on his chest.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said, shaking him like a rag doll. There was no response. The little shit had actually passed out from terror.
I released the sleeping murderer, who dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, into a lumpy pile of evil wannabe face-down on the floor. I kicked him twice, hoping I broke something, then turned around to see the other one standing behind me. His broken arm flopped uselessly at his side. However, the other held the plasma pistol, aiming it at me.
“Die, bitch,” he spat, pulling the trigger.
The white blast caught me right in the chest, slamming me backward into the indention I had made with his friend. I shrugged off the attack and stepped forward, my hands aching to do some damage.
“Thanks a lot, asshole,” I sneered. “Your little popgun didn’t do jack shit to me, but I appreciate you ruining my fucking…” I glanced down as I gestured at my midriff, expecting to showcase my bare flesh poking through a smoldering hole in the Rumpet.
Instead, the dress was completely unmarred. It didn’t even have so much as a scorch mark.
I glanced up to see that the idiot in the helmet was as stunned as I was. He looked from the undamaged dress to me, then brought the plasma gun’s barrel around to point at the head of a hero nearby.
“Maybe you can’t get hurt, Kayo,” he said. “But I can kill this asshole here as easily as I can blink.”
I looked to the person he threatened. “Go ahead,” I said, giving a slight shrug.
“What?”
“Go. Ahead.” I nodded at the man he was threatening. “That’s Photonic. He’s responsible for the death of my little brother several years ago. So, I honestly couldn’t care less if you blasted him to kingdom come. Hell, knowing he was dead might even help me sleep better at night.”
“You’re bluffing,” he insisted, though something in his tone sounded doubtful. “A hero doesn’t let another hero die if they can help it.”
I threw my hands wide, smiling. “You do know I used to be Crushette, right? The notorious super-villain? Everyone else remembers. They never, ever, cease to keep reminding me of that fact. So, go ahead, kill him.” I held up a fist. “Then, after I beat your brains in, I’ll just tell the police that he died before I could stop you.”
“Okay then, girlie. Let’s see if we can find someone you do care about.” He turned his head to look for another victim.
Before it could occur to him that keeping his eyes on me might be a good idea, I twisted at the waist to grab the edge of the table next to me. I threw the fully-set piece of furniture in his direction, sending expensive china and silver flatware flying.
The heavy table, its tablecloth flapping behind like the tail of a comet, slammed into him before he realized it was coming. Both of them smashed into the wall, the table rolling away on its edge. It clattered to the floor with a racket.
I strolled over to the murder, picked him up from the floor, and held him up over my head with one hand. I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to keep my fury under control. The way I was feeling, I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t crush that helmet around his head.
“Now,” I said as I reached up, thumping the front of his armored chest,
denting the plate. “Why don’t you tell me where the Delta Inducer is, and where Nightfall ran off to, and I won’t make your spine as useless as your arm.” I smiled my biggest smile despite the crimson hue swimming across my vision. “Fuck with me, and you’ll never wipe your own ass again. That’s a promise.”
For a second, I feared that I was going to have to actually follow through on my threat. Which I was certain would only result in the bad guys getting away, and me getting into a ton of trouble for crippling someone. Fortunately, the man in my grip decided that having a functioning pair of legs was preferable to employer loyalty.
“T-the roof. The machine’s up on the roof.” He flailed his good arm upward. “I swear. The boss… the boss is probably up there, too!”
I smiled and nodded. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Then my smile turned into a sneer as I spun around, throwing the armored killer through the air. He hit the wall behind the stage, punching through into the corridor beyond. He didn’t get up.
I stood up and went to check on his companion. The guy was still out cold, so I grabbed one of the metal and cloth banquet chairs, a non-durasteel one, and twisted it into a pair of arm and leg shackles. Unless the asshole had Enhanced strength, he wasn’t going anywhere without assistance.
Then I walked over to Richard and knelt down to search the inside pockets of his tuxedo jacket. I found his phone in the left one and pulled it out. “Time to call in the cavalry,” I said as I thumbed the screen to life, dialing 9-1-1. I looked around the room as the device in my hand rang twice, then connected.
“Thank you for calling Cook County Emergency Services. We’re sorry, but all circuits are busy now. Please try your call again later.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear to stare at it. Surely that was a joke, right? How could all the emergency services be busy at the same time? I hung up, then tried the call again, getting the same response. I began to worry that whatever I thought Nightfall had planned, the reality was going to be a hundred times worse.
Dropping the phone, I ran barefoot out of the ballroom down the corridor to the stairway door. I yanked so hard on the handle three of the screws holding it into the frame snapped. I left the door hanging slightly askew as I bounded up the narrow stairs three at a time. I would have flown, but the gap between the flights was too narrow to accommodate anything larger than a toddler.
At the top, I slammed my shoulder against the steel slab, stepping out onto a smooth concrete observation platform that overlooked the Chicago downtown. The actual roof of the hotel was one story higher than where I exited.
There was a four-foot tall metal railing running along the edge of the platform. My quarry stood fifteen feet away, his hands placed lightly on top of the security barrier. His attention seemed to be centered on the view of the city before him, since he didn’t turn around at my appearance.
The steady wind whipped at my hair as I clenched my jaw and stalked toward him.
CHAPTER 32:
NIGHTFALL
“Jean Rostand, a famous French philosopher, once said, ‘Kill one man, and you are a murderer. Kill millions of men, and you are a conqueror. Kill them all, and you are a god.’ While I am not hoping for any sort of deification, I will admit ‘Conqueror’ does have a nice ring to it.” He turned around, giving me a malicious smile.
“So does ‘permanently crippled megalomaniac’,” I said as I continued toward him. “Care to guess which one is your more likely future?”
“Please,” he said with a little shake of his head. “Spare me the usual heroic bravado and speeches. After twenty years, they’ve grown tiresome.” One graying eyebrow slid up as he looked at me. “So, I guess Martin’s little control precaution had the unexpected side-effect of keeping you awake. Interesting. Of course, I bet it’s also given you one hell of a headache.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m fine,” I said. “You’re going to be the one with the headache once I punch you a few times.”
His smile never faltered. “Same old, Crushette. The answer to everything is brute force.” He clicked his tongue at me. “You can change your name, but you really can’t change the girl inside. I tried to explain this to Martin more times than I care to remember.”
I shrugged. “I can smash your face into the ground a couple of times if that helps break up the monotony.” I took another step toward him. “I’m going to make you pay for what your boys did downstairs.”
“Why?”
I stopped in mid-stride, slightly thrown off by the question. Not to mention the sincere way he asked it. “What do you mean ‘why’?”
He clasped his hands together behind him. “Why do you care? You’re not unconscious. Even if you were, you’re certainly not my target. Nor is that annoying Phantasm brat that never leaves your side. Or any of your teammates. Well, Richard might be, only because I hate him. Otherwise, I have no nefarious plans for any of The Good Guys.”
I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed how stupid he sounded. “Why shouldn’t I care? I’m a hero, remember?”
“Are you? Really? You might have changed your name and put on a new outfit. But are you truly hero?”
“What the hell does that mean?” I knew better than to engage a villain in conversation, but I couldn’t help myself. “I’m as much a hero as I can be.”
That superior smile reappeared, and the desire to smack it off his chiseled face increased. “Yes, you are certainly trying your damnedest. You know, in all my years as the head of the EAPF, I’ve never seen a rookie hero throw themselves into the job like you have. In six months, you’ve managed to bring both Colonel Tank and Colossal to justice. Not exactly a bad start.”
“I’ve got a past to make up for. You’re well aware of that.”
“So, it’s atonement you seek? That’s why you put yourself in harm’s way day after day? You want absolution for the things you did as Crushette? Clear out that red in your ledger?”
“Yes,” I said, then shook my head. “I mean, no. I’m not a hero because I feel the need pay penance. I do it because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Why?” There was that single word question again.
“Because I have the ability to do good in the world. I’m Enhanced.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “One percent of the world’s population is Enhanced, Karen. There are far more of them holding down a steady job and raising a family than there are parading around in skintight spandex. Having powers doesn’t automatically obligate you to risk your life for the general public. This is the real world, not a comic book. Here, great power doesn’t come with great responsibility.”
I rolled my eyes. “Says the man who, while being an evil shit, has been in charge of the agency responsible for assisting with putting the bad guys behind bars.”
“Yes. But I don’t run the EAPF because of some overwhelming guilt. Nor do I do it because I want to make the world a better place. I do it because that way, I have control over who is out on the streets, in my debt, and who is off the playing board.”
“Now you sound more like the Nightfall I remember. You and Martin, always playing your little scheming games. The news about who you really are sheds a shit ton of light on those moments.”
“My legal connections were the only reason Martin would agree to partner with me. Otherwise, I would have been beneath his notice.” He must have read the expression on my face because he held out his hands in a placating gesture. “Oh, that’s right. You see, my dear, I am not Enhanced.”
I blinked, brain scrambling to process this revelation. Nightfall was a Norm? Yet, Martin seemed to treat him like an equal. Or at least like a respected peer. Which should have been impossible, considering his complete disdain for the non-Enhanced.
“I suppose he felt that I was useful enough to him to overcome his rampaging bias against Norms.”
I nodded, despite myself. I hadn’t known that Nightfall wasn’t an Enhanced. He must have really been valuable to Martin’s plans
. Suddenly, as if a light just clicked on, several unknown factors fell into place.
“You!” I said as I jabbed a finger at him. “You’re the reason Martin knew about our daughter. You were there when she was born. You told him about her!”
“Guilty as charged. Imagine my surprise when I received the report that Crushette had turned herself in to the authorities. I called Martin just to make sure it wasn’t a part of one of his schemes.” He laughed. “I don’t think I’ve heard him so shocked. Before or since. He truly had no idea that you were going to give yourself up, did he?”
I shook my head. The decision to turn myself in had been spontaneous. One moment, I’m holding the third positive pregnancy test taken in an hour. The next, I was at the nearest EAPF station, surrendering to the first agent I encountered. I didn’t pack anything or tell anyone where I was going. Later, I just assumed that Martin heard about my arrest the same way as the rest of the world: on the evening news. Now it seemed that his “inside man” at the EAPF had informed him much earlier.
“If that’s true,” I said, still shaking my head. “Then why did he leave me in there? I mean, I assume that you not only told him I had surrendered on my own, you also told him why I did it. I find it hard to believe that Martin would agree to allow his child to be born in prison.”
He laughed again, returning to looking out over the city. “You know, I thought you were smarter than that. Why wouldn’t Martin want you to give birth in a secure, safe location equipped with an infirmary specifically designed to treat Enhanced patients?”
I opened my mouth but found no words to counter his boast. After all, he was right that the Max was built for Enhanced inmates. Stood to reason that they would be the best equipped to deal with any powered emergency.
“Oh, he contemplated breaking you out long before you went into labor, Karen. However, I convinced him that it wouldn’t be a good idea. I convinced him the last thing he wanted was to have his pregnant lover fighting his enemies and the law. Who knew if your invulnerability would have protected both you and the baby? Think he would be willing to take that chance?”
