Blackjack Messiah

by Ben Bequer

  “Nina, Dixie, go,” Powermaster said.

  The padlock crumpled in my hand, the shackle snapping in half. I tried to keep it quiet, but broken metal had a pretty specific sound. One of the gunmen touched his earpiece and took an angle on the skylight that gave him line of fire on the door. He raised the gun but didn’t fire, rubbing his eyes with his forearm before snapping out of view.

  Below us, someone yelled.

  Then gunfire.

  I opened the skylight to see Nina running up on a gunman firing short bursts in her direction. The warehouse was well lit enough for me to see his surprise as none of the bursts struck her, and by the time he realized something was wrong, Nina pistol-whipped him with his own gun. Dixie sat in the corner of the catwalk, near the window they used to enter. Her job was to whammy as many people as she could. One of the gunmen was drawing a bead on her, but Red Quiver put a taser arrow in the rifle’s barrel, white-blue energy crackling along the metal and into the man.

  I tried to zoom in on the supers, but they were gone. Their machine still stood, and I saw thick cables leading from it to a generator, but nothing was running yet. Scanning the room, I saw the armored one, Wither, hovering at eye level with the catwalks. That blank faceplate made it hard to tell where her attention was, and when twin arcs of light flashed from her shoulders, I didn’t have enough time to react. One of them caught me flush in the chest, and though there wasn’t any heat or cold or pain, I felt the suit split open at the site. Red Quiver backed away just before the other blast hit the edge of the skylight.

  I fired an explosive arrow, catching her in back as she angled to fire at Nina. The small payload left her armor undamaged, but knocked her off course, pushing her below the catwalk level. From some hidden angle, Powermaster’s energy beam lanced upward, tagging her in the chest and she cut all her thrust, landing behind some cargo containers, out of site.

  “I lost her,” I said over comms. “Anyone got a bead on Cyclonic?”

  “I don’t see either of them,” Invictus said. “But scratch three assholes on the floor level.”

  “Catwalk is almost clear,” Nina said, followed by a burst of gunfire and the sound of a man screaming. I found her on the far end of the catwalk as she whirled one gunman around before throwing him into another. The last gunman had jumped down onto the cargo containers and found a little space.

  “Dixie, get down!” I said, hitting the gunman with a taser arrow of my own. Lightning arced towards the skylight along with four beams of green energy. There was no way to avoid it, but I screamed a warning at Red Quiver as the skylight and the floor beneath us fell. Our shock and surprise turned comms into a burst of static as me, Red Quiver, and a big chunk of the warehouse roof crashed down.

  I prepared to crash into the floor, but banged into the catwalk. Pieces of loose metal piled on me, but not enough to hinder me as I stood on my haunches and took stock of the scene. The skylight was a mangled rectangle of shattered glass and bent metal on the warehouse floor. Red Quiver dangled from the edge of the catwalk, the railing above him gone. Nina was running along the catwalk towards us, her expression frantic. Following her eyes, I saw Dixie lying under a small pile of metal.

  I sprang to my feet, and a lightning blast hit just in front of Nina, arcing down the entire catwalk. She kept running, her teeth gritted. I felt it lick across me and down the catwalk. “Quiver, let go!” I screamed.

  He fell out of sight, but I couldn’t worry about him. Dixie still hadn’t stirred, and Cyclonic’s lightning would fry her on the catwalk. I ran a finger along my arrows, finding the right one and firing. It hit inches from her, the goop within a powerful adhesive, but also a strong insulator. It spread out over the width of the catwalk, filling the gaps and covering the sides. Cyclonic’s electricity ran along the pile of hard goop and died.

  I sighed in relief and stood as Nina ran past me to check on Dixie. I found Red Quiver on top of a cargo container just below, on one knee firing arrows in the general direction of where Cyclonic attacked us. Sharp concussive blasts followed each arrow knocking the cargo containers off balance, causing a few of them to slide into each other.

  “All-Stars, sound off,” Powermaster said, his comms crackling with interference that coincided with beams zipping across the warehouse at a target hidden from my view. Invictus followed on the heels of the beam, tetsubo held high, howling as he ran.

  “Shadowshaft here,” I said.

  “Wither is moving across the north quadrant,” Red Quiver said.

  Metal banged and scraped along the catwalk as Nina attacked the pile on top of Dixie. I moved that way to help, but Dixie pushed her way out of the last bits as Nina helped her stand. She had multiple cuts from on her face, including a long slice along her forehead, and the sleeve of her costume jacket was shredded.

  “Dixie’s a little shook up,” Nina said.

  “I’m fine,” Dixie shot back.

  Wither popped up from behind some cargo containers, her flight powered by recessed thrusters built into the armor. Green beams shot from her shoulders and wrists, aimed at Red Quiver, but he was gone before they hit. I expected the container to explode, but it crumpled under its own weight. Zooming in, I saw the container overcome with rust. Fingering the hole in my uniform, it hit me. “Wither’s beams are some kind of entropic effect!”

  “The hell does that mean?” Invictus said.

  “It causes advanced decay. I don’t know what it’ll to do organic material.”

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on getting shot anyways,” Nina said.

  “What’s the plan?” Dixie said.

  “Invictus and I are going to distract Cyclonic while rest of you bring down Wither.”

  “Focus fire, baby,” Invictus said. “Fuck yeah.”

  “Shadowshaft, we’re up,” Red Quiver said. “Coordinated fire. You line it up and I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Copy that, I got a good bead on her from here.”

  “She seems pretty pissed at me. Hurry it up.”

  “I can get you some space,” Nina said, picking up a large sheet of warehouse roof and throwing it. It whistled through the air, and though Wither avoided it with ease, she stopped firing to do it. She seemed to bobble in midair for a second before losing a couple of feet of altitude. “Drop a roof on me?” Dixie said. “I got you, bitch.”

  I thought that was the end game, but Nina rocked on her heels a little then leaped off the catwalk. I knew she was off target from the second she left the ground, but Wither fired thrusters. Raising both wrists, she fired those greens blasts. I knew she was aiming at Nina, but her perceptions must have been thrown off by Dixie’s whammy because the blasts went wild. I didn’t think, taking a leap of my own, getting myself between the fire and Dixie. I felt the blast hit me in the back of the head, and though it tingled across my scalp and eyes, I didn’t feel any pain.

  “You ok,” I said, and Dixie nodded looking over my shoulder. Wither had drifted too far for Nina to grab, but the angle was just close enough for her to connect with a punch that clanged throughout the warehouse.

  Wither lost all sense of attitude, spinning through the air. I watched her tumble, lining up the shot and fired. The arrow flew quickly, but I saw Red Quiver’s shot trailing on its heels. My arrow caught her in the flank, exploding into a ball of resin that engulfed her from chin to knee, snuffing out her thrust. She hung a moment in the air, and I thought Red Quiver’s arrow might miss, but it plinked into the resin just as gravity took over. Electricity sparkled through the resin which was based on a superconductive material I created.

  Wither screamed all the way to the ground, violent twitches kept in check by the armor she wore. The resin shell cracked into two big halves on impact, but Wither wasn’t trying to stand. The smell of burnt plastic and paint wafted in the air, and the occasional crackle of electricity flashed along her armor, eliciting a small twitch in its wake.

  “She ain’t getting up,” Nina said. “Where’s idiot number two
?”

  “He’s moving between the crates,” Invictus said, his voice rough. “He singed me pretty bad, but I got a line on him. Could use eyes in the sky, though.”

  “I’m on it,” I said, launching off the platform with a burst of thrust that carried me into the middle of the warehouse.

  “Shadowshaft, wait!” Dixie said, but I saw Cyclonic weaving through the jumbled maze Red Quiver’s concussive arrows had created. I had the arrow nocked when he rounded on me. We fired at the same time. The arrow never stood a chance, the head ruptured in midair and it careened out of sight.

  I thought I might be able to withstand Cyclonic’s shot, but that sucker packed a wallop. It wasn’t one contained blast, but a continuous stream that seemed to pin me. I should have flown away, but none of my muscles were working right. The electricity wasn’t burning me, but the convulsions hurt. The energy wrapped me tight, and then I was hurtling towards the ground. I hit hard within arm’s reach of Cyclonic who doubled down on trying to kill me. I was starting to froth at the mouth when he suddenly stopped.

  The relief was instant, but the residual convulsions kept me from doing anything meaningful as he cocked his head. He never saw Invictus come over the cargo containers, his battle cry piercing the air as he drove the tetsubo down on the villain’s shoulder, right at the deltoid. I heard a wet slap and a crack, Cyclonic’s scream of pain punctuated with the sound of a well-hit softball as his head connected with the concrete floor.

  The convulsions subsided, but my breath was still ragged. Invictus knelt next to me, tetsubo still in hand. His suit was charred in places and the sclera of his left eye was red with popped blood vessels. Flecks of scorched blood trailed from his nose and mouth. “Come on lazy ass. Up.”

  I stood to see Powermaster and Red Quiver huddled around Cyclonic. Red Quiver lay two fingers against the villain's neck and nodded as Powermaster stepped closer to me. “Ah, shit,” he said, bunching a large hank of his short cape in one hand. The tip of his index finger glowed a dim yellow as a thin beam sliced away the bunched up part of the cape. “Punch some eyeholes and tie it around your face.”

  “Why would I need to,” I said then felt the kiss of evening breeze across my cheeks. “Son of a bitch. Wither’s blast must have shredded my mask.”

  “Hurry it up,” Powermaster said. “The Feds are on the way.”

  I reached for an arrow, but they were a fused mass of bubbled metal. Same with the small blade sheathed at my waist. I found a sharp edge in the remains of the arrowheads and used it to slice holes in the cloth, widening them with my fingers. I fought with it to find a good fit until a pair of hands took over, tying a knot around the back of my head while I adjusted the new mask over my eyes.

  “That too tight?” Nina said.

  “Tight is good, I don’t want it falling off.”

  “Feds just breached, let's go.”

  Powermaster, Red Quiver, and Nina led me away from a cuffed and unconscious Cyclonic into a herd of federal agents of all shapes and sizes. They were so similar I classified them first by gender, then by haircut. The team didn’t give me a chance for any face time though. Powermaster and Red Quiver broke off to talk to the people in charge while Nina guided me through the melee to Dixie and Invictus.

  They stood next to one of the cargo containers as an agent used bolt cutters to remove the lock and open the door. The agent flashed a light into the darkness, two more with pistols watching his back. We all tensed, ready for trouble when the light flicked over a white pod. There were four in all, stacked side by side, two high. I stepped near the mouth of the container, expecting someone to stop me, but the agents stepped aside.

  The cargo container was warm inside. I took off a glove and ran a finger along the container wall and found it warm as well. I was about to ask for a light as I approached the pods, but they lit up on their own once I was within a foot of them. Blue-white light illuminated a large window that looked in on the pod and its occupant, while a small sensor panel came to life with a readout screen and a prompt for a passcode.

  The occupant was male, dressed in green hospital scrubs. Red patches of razor burn denoted a recent shave. My hand drifted to the sensor pad when a voice from behind me said, “Sir, please don’t touch it.”

  “Yeah, right. Sorry, I got a little carried away.” I stepped out of the container, more agents moving past me to assess the pods. Dixie looked past me at the pods which lit the container dimly. She had questions, but they would wait. She looked tired and so did the rest of them. The whole warehouse area was swamped with vehicles, their combined headlights and flashers saturating the night with light.

  Bad guys were being loaded into half a dozen ambulances, most of them the gunmen. Cyclonic and Wither were obvious given that they were the only half-naked people laid out on gurneys under guard. He was ripped, though probably not super strong or tough, given how bad his arm looked. That or Invictus was much stronger than advertised. The arm was slung, and an IV dangled from the good arm, a big bag dripped what was most likely a sedative into his veins. She was in similar shape, soft casts on arms and legs, and her IV was taped to her head. Her chest was wrapped in a brace that almost looked like a girdle, and her undies were lacy and kind of sexy.

  Nina saw my gaze linger and smiled. “You know she’s watching all this from the firehouse, right?”

  Powermaster and Red Quiver caught up with us as we reached the outer edge of the perimeter. The darkness was still washed out, but some of the stars appeared in the sky. Detective Wallace leaned against the Crown Victoria smoking a cigarette. Invictus pulled a little ahead and said, “They didn’t even give you a slice, Cliff?”

  “You know how they are, greedy and needy.”

  “They’re all hot and bothered in there, not a one of them knows what the hell they got.”

  “Care to fill me in?”

  “We’ll trade you for a ride back to the van,” Powermaster said. I hadn’t really seen him since we breached. He didn’t look any worse for wear, though he had some tears on his suit.

  Wallace considered us for a long time before nodding. We piled into the car, and though it was spacious, we were still all on top of each other. We told Wallace what we knew, which was not much, but he seemed satisfied. He dropped us off and left without another word.

  “See you guys back at base,” Powermaster said. I went around to the passenger side of the minivan, but he waved me off. “Dale, you mind riding with the others?”

  I was a little stung, but I shrugged and climbed into the back of the van. Invictus closed the door behind me and latched it as Red Quiver drove us back to base. Pulling the mask off, I tossed it aside. Dixie came up to each of us, starting with Nina and did a quick check. She saw me last, but took some extra time, holding my head in her hands, her face screwed up in concentration.

  “The leg good?” she said and I nodded. “You’re clean,” she said, sitting in the seat next to me, leaning back and closing her eyes.

  “Thanks. Everyone else ok?”

  “Bajeera had a little internal bleeding that I managed to knit. He’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

  I thought she was going to say more, but she just sat there, eyes closed. Nobody said much of anything during the ride back. I had a little bit of a runner’s high, but I didn’t want to be that guy, so I enjoyed the silence until we pulled into the firehouse’s garage.

  Powermaster’s minivan was already parked, and he talked to Madelyne in the garage as we jumped out of the truck. I joined them as he said goodbye and walked away. Her hand drifted close to mine, brushing my fingers. I slipped my fingers through hers and we walked like a couple of teenagers through the firehouse. I left her at the locker room, and it hit. I was tired. It hadn’t been much of a workout, but I guess it had been enough. I sleepwalked through a shower and a change of clothes. Terry was gone by the time I was done, but Madelyne had a rental car and we rode home together. I didn’t say anything, and she didn’t pry.

  CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT

  The REAL After-Report

  The conference room was freezing, and paired with the dim lights broken only by the video projected onto the whiteboard, made keeping my eyes open a challenge. I took a pull from the tall travel cup of coffee Roy provided. I didn’t know what was in there, but it was delicious, the perfect balance of bitter and sweet. The projector finished showing the video for the third time, and Terry paused it and turned on the lights.

  “So, the body count,” he said, consulting his clipboard. “One suspect dead, four more in critical condition, including Wither and Cyclonic. She broke damn near every bone in her body between the fall and the convulsions. Cyclonic has a separated shoulder, a shattered clavicle, along with muscle damage and a fractured skull suffered when he fell.”

  “We fucked their shit up,” Bajeera said.

  “It’s not bad in all,” Terry said. “We kept the casualties to a minimum, which made the Feds happy.”

  “The hell with all that,” Bajeera said. “The statement is what matters. You think those two assholes are going to come here looking for trouble again?”

  “We’re not thugs, Bajeera,” Dixie said.

  “No, but they are. Scumbags are like little kids. They’re going to try shit until you teach them not to. Dale, back me up here.”

  They turned to me, and my knee-jerk reaction was to play the rookie card. Maybe I should have, but I wanted to be part of the team, and that meant being honest. “Bajeera’s right. Criminals are always looking for weaknesses to exploit. I did.”

  Terry narrowed his eyes at me, but Nina and Roy were nodding. Bajeera smiled at Dixie, who shook her head and shrugged. It was weird recounting my days as a criminal in such a nonchalant fashion, but I didn’t feel judged, which was a relief. The argument seemed settled as we directed our attention back at Terry.