by Nick Svolos
“Stop the train, and let’s see if we can disconnect this car. I should be able to carry it the rest of the way.” A few minutes later, I was flying through the air, carrying a passenger car full of reporters over my head, making my way to the distant lights of the airport. I kept low. I didn’t want the Army to get a chance to shoot at us with the big anti-aircraft guns. I heard small-arms fire from the ground below us a couple of times, but I serpentined and got out of the area before they could draw a bead on us with anything bigger.
I made good time, if I do say so myself. In an area of the tarmac set away from Sunan’s main runway, I found the AngelJet. It wasn’t hard to find. The whole area was surrounded by the Army and there were a couple of smoking tanks nearby, attesting to the aircraft’s defensive capabilities. Ultiman was quite right when he said the aircraft would have no difficulty keeping the North Koreans at bay. I saw several craters around the plane, but not so much as a scratch on its fuselage.
Things were quiet at the airport. After realizing the futility of trying to penetrate the AngelJet’s defenses, the DPRK forces settled in for a siege, and their focus was on the plane. That let me get in nice and close, and the first indication that we’d been discovered was as we flew over their outer pickets. There was a shout from below me, followed by a couple of others. Then it wasn’t quiet anymore.
Here’s another fun fact: fliers aren’t typically all that fast. Nobody knows why. While the aforementioned Stratoblaster could top Mach 2, he was an outlying case. Ultiman was lucky to hit ninety miles per hour with a tailwind. By comparison, Herculene could lope along at speeds approaching one hundred forty if she had clear terrain. Seeing as how I was carrying about fifteen tons of train, Snoopy could have flown rings around me in his doghouse.
Sporadic rifle fire erupted up at us as a nearby crew started wheeling their spotlight to highlight our position. There were about two miles separating us from the safety of the AngelJet, and the ground between us and our destination was packed with a plethora of ways to kill a subway car full of reporters. If they managed to catch us in the spotlight, I didn’t like the odds of me being able to dodge the volume of fire the DPRK could bring to bear. To emphasize the point, a bullet bounced painfully off my leg while another pinged off the car’s undercarriage. I yelled, “Hang on!” and fought for elevation while trying to stay hidden in the dark sky.
More spotlights joined the hunt, and I had my hands full avoiding them while trying to keep from injuring my passengers by jerking the car around too hard. After an eternity, I was high enough that I felt safe from the small arms and too high for the tanks to target. I heard vomiting noises from above me. I took heart; you have to be alive to barf. All I had to do was figure out how to keep my people that way. I wondered what Ultiman would do in this situation. He always made it look so easy. Probably because he was too smart to get in a spot like this in the first place.
The North Koreans weren’t giving me time to think. Although we were protected from ground fire now, I quickly discovered two problems with being this high up. The first was that it was a lot easier to point a spotlight at a guy lugging around a subway car when he’s farther away, a point that was made all-too-clear by the blinding glare coming from several points on the ground.
The second problem was that a hovering train car makes an awesome target for surface to air missiles if the guy carrying it is dumb enough to get it up so high you can get a radar lock on it. Yes, I was exactly that dumb. Twin trails of flame rose from the ground on the distant outskirts of Pyongyang.
I was out of time and options. The missiles would be on us in a few seconds. I focused on the space under the AngelJet’s wing and willed myself into motion. I abandoned any effort at evasive action and focused on going as fast as I could. I prayed it would be enough. As an afterthought, I added a prayer that Archangel’s countermeasures would hold up to the truckload of hurt that I was about to bring down on her. This was going to be a long night if whatever she was using to protect the jet wasn’t up to the task.
The downward pull of gravity helped me pick up speed. The Army started shooting at us, but the fire was ineffective. Even the spotlights were having trouble keeping up with us. I lost track of the missiles as I dove toward the plane. They were somewhere above us and with each terror-filled moment I grew more and more certain that they’d catch up to us, ending our flight in an explosion worthy of a Hollywood blockbuster. I increased my focus on the tarmac.
We were almost there when I suddenly remembered the fragile humans above me. I was coming in too fast, and if I hit the ground at this speed I’d only be doing the North Korean’s job for them. Struggling to slow our descent, I winced as I heard bodies tumble across the car’s floor. Apparently feeling I didn’t have enough to worry about, the Universe tossed another curve ball my way as, now that I was close enough to see it, I noticed a shimmering, almost transparent half-dome surrounding the AngelJet. It looked like one of those stasis fields that the Angel Tower uses to incapacitate invading superhumans, in the unlikely event one can get in there. They’re strong. I’d seen Herculene get caught in one of those things and she could barely talk, much less move. I was going to smack right into it, like a bug on a windshield.
I threw everything I had into slowing down, but it wasn’t enough. We still had too much momentum. I stuck my legs out at the shield and braced for the squishy end racing towards me. My feet hit the shimmering surface and my eyes were blinded as the forcefield flared, converting kinetic energy into light. And then it began to bend. It was like landing on rubber. The weight of the subway car disappeared from my shoulders as the field surrounded it and eased it gently under the AngelJet’s wing.
Relieved of my burden, I spun, my eyes searching frantically for the incoming missiles. The stasis field almost blinded me with a thousand flares of light as the ground forces unleashed Hell in our direction. I finally spotted the SAMs and tried desperately to get my body between them and the Jet. I needn't have bothered. I shielded my eyes as two enormous flares erupted and flames spilled across the shield, momentarily obliterating the night sky. It was all outside the dome, though. Only the muffled sounds from the explosions made it through the stasis field.
Seeing that Archangel had the situation well in hand, I raced to check on my passengers, terrified of what I might find. Jay Cardillo met me at the door. He looked pale and his pant legs were drenched with the contents of someone’s stomach, but he seemed to be mobile.
“I’m never flying this airline again,” he weakly managed as he staggered out of the car.
“Yeah, we don’t get a lot of repeat business,” I quipped as I looked past him. “Is everyone alright?”
He nodded. “I think so. Louie needs some help.” He gestured to the AngelJet. “They got a sickbay on that thing?”
I shrugged. I’d never seen the interior. “I don’t know. Let’s get everyone inside and find out.”
In the train car, the air was stale and rank from the stresses I’d put the passengers through. Bob Huff knelt by a window, watching the spectacle outside as the DPRK continued vainly to waste their ammunition against the Jet’s dome of static force. Blunt and Hickman were tending to Hawes, who I found laid out on one of the bench seats.
“How’s he doing?” I asked as I stepped up to them.
“I’m fine,” Louie Hawes spat between coughing fits. “Pretty sure I can walk. Just let me catch my breath.”
He probably could, but I didn’t like the idea. “Tell ya what, man, how ‘bout I give you a lift?” I reached down and gently picked him up. “Sorry about the rough ride.”
He weakly waved a hand. “Ah, that was nothin’. I’d forgotten how much fun it was running around with superheroes.”
Once we were all aboard the AngelJet, Archangel greeted us. “Welcome, Mr. Conway. I wish you’d told me you were bringing guests. I’d have baked a cake.”
I found Louie a place to rest in the passenger compartment. “Hi Archangel. Still working on the comed
y subroutines, I see.”
“I like to try out new material when I’m on the road. I see some of our guests require medical attention. There’s a medical kit in the forward cabin. I’m afraid I can’t manipulate physical objects, but I have access to our medical database and can direct your efforts.”
“Outstanding,” I said as I went to retrieve the equipment. Bob and Ken both had some first aid training, and with Archangel’s help, they got Louie stabilized and set up an oxygen mask to help him breathe. Once that was done, they went around the cabin tending to minor wounds and bruises, I went forward to find a quiet spot to talk to the AI.
Archangel began the conversation. “I feel I would be of better service if you filled me in on the situation.”
“How much did Ultiman tell you?”
“Just that the team would be captured, you would have his powers and that I should render assistance as you see fit.”
“OK. Do you know where the team’s being held?”
“No, Mr. Conway, I don’t. The Koreans removed the team’s communicators. I’ve been monitoring the Army’s communications, but haven’t been able to get any information on their location. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t sweat it. I think I know how I can find out. Can you keep everyone safe while I get the team?”
“Against these guys? Pffft. I could do that with one processor tied behind my power supply.”
“Cute. Remind me to swap SpeedDamon’s energy bars with laxative for teaching you to tell jokes.”
“Now that’s comedy!”
“Speaking of food, do you have anything on board to eat? I just realized I’m starving.” I wasn’t kidding. I don’t think I’d ever been so hungry in all my life. I reached down to pat my rumbling gut and noticed the layer of fat was gone. I could feel each ridge of muscle in my brand new six-pack. Wow.
“The galley’s in the next compartment. The cupboard on the left has a supply of nutritional supplement bars. Will those do?”
“Perfect.” I went forward and grabbed a handful. I ate three of them before the hunger pangs started to subside. Around a mouthful of the dry, chalky, high-protein pseudo-food, I asked, “Do you have a spare communicator?”
“Of course. You’ll find them by the door.”
I fitted one into my ear. “Testing.”
“Five by five, Mr. Conway,” Archangel said in my ear. “I can provide further information on the communicator’s capabilities if you like.”
“Not now. Let’s just keep things basic for now.” I remembered the Force injector in my waistband and took it out. “You got somewhere I can stash this?”
“Certainly.” A compartment in the narrow passageway slid open. I dropped the device into it and it slid closed. I heard pneumatic locks thunk into place.
I went back to the passenger cabin. “You guys gonna be OK for a bit? Gotta see a man about a superteam.”
“We should be,” Cardillo replied. “Thanks, man.”
“Hey, you know how it is. Anything for a good story. Archangel will take good care of you. Just tell her what you need. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You gonna go like that?” he pointed at my chest.
Oh yeah, I left my shirt back in my cell. I was running around bare-chested, like some muscleman in a pulp novel. I scrounged a sweatshirt from a nearby locker and pulled it on.
I stepped out of the jet, waited for a break in the army’s barrage, and took to the sky, headed back to Ryongsong. I needed answers and I knew just the guy to beat them out of.
XVIII
It turned out that flying in a straight line was pretty easy. Now that I wasn’t carrying a big piece of train on my shoulders, I found it didn’t even take a lot of concentration. I just set my focus on some searchlights that happened to be in the general area where I thought Ryongsong was located and willed myself toward them. Looking down at the starlit countryside passing below me, I was surprised to learn that I wasn’t filled with terror, either. If pressed for a reason, I’d have to say it had something to do with being in control of the situation. Maybe superpowers were a cure for acrophobia. Who knew?
The brief respite gave me some cycles to process things, and I remembered something else I needed to take care of. I asked Archangel to patch me through to Assistant Secretary Janice Kirk.
She sounded anxious as she came on the line. “Reuben? Did they let you out of prison?”
“Not exactly. I’m out, but not with their permission. Listen, these guys are probably going to be a little sore on the subject. You might want to get your people and get out of the country.”
“They won’t touch us. Diplomatic immunity, remember?”
“These guys were ready to mow down ten thousand people to capture The Angels. Do you really think they’ll stop short of making things rough on you when I bust them loose?”
“Bust them loose? What’re you planning? Look, just tell me where you are and we’ll come get you in a diplomatic car.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be possible. I’m about three thousand feet above the ground.”
“What, you’re in a plane?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, wait, what are you telling me?”
“I’d rather not go into a lot of details right now. I’m gonna go find out where GL’s keeping the team and bust them out. I’m pretty sure this will ruffle some feathers, so I’m asking you to get your people to safety before the fertilizer hits the fan.”
“Unbelievable.” From her tone, it was clear that her usage of the word “unbelievable” was a word in the female language that roughly translates to, “I literally cannot believe you’re doing something this stupid.”
“Tell me about it. Think you could send somebody by to grab my gear before you go? I really like that laptop.”
“Sorry, no can do. State Security raided your room after you got yourself arrested.”
Damn. See? This was why I didn’t bother with trying to have nice things.
“Reuben, it’s very important that you not kill anyone. We can smooth over almost anything else, but killing their soldiers will be seen as an act of war. We’ll have to disavow you. You might be trading one prison cell for another.”
“Roger that. So far, I’m batting a thousand on the ‘not killing people’ thing. I aim to keep it that way. I’m almost there, so I gotta drop the line. If something goes sideways, you can contact me through The Angels’ AI. Knowing Archangel, she’s already set up a way for you to do that.”
“Yeah, she just showed up in my contact list. How’d she do that? This thing’s encrypted.”
“Do you really want the answer to that? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I don’t.”
She sighed. “No, maybe it’s best I don’t know. For now. Be careful and good luck.”
Fortunately, whatever radar systems the DPRK had couldn’t detect a flying organic, so I didn’t get shot at as I cruised over the Anti-Aircraft emplacements. I didn’t know if Glorious Leader would be at his house, but it was the only logical place to begin the search. It took me a little while to fly around and figure out where it was. Things look different when you’re airborne, especially if you don’t have a convenient point of reference. I kept losing track of where I was, and I’d have killed for a compass. The sharp, long-distance vision that Ultiman loaned me proved invaluable, though, and after maybe an hour of searching, I was floating above the dictator’s residence.
The grounds appeared to be on full alert. Large contingents of armed guards were posted at each entrance, and I was scared to death that somebody would spot me. It was very dark, and they probably wouldn’t have been able to see me even if someone looked up. Maybe I was a little paranoid, but my margin for error on this stunt was pretty slim, and I didn’t need any complications. Eventually, I floated down to what I figured was the window to Glorious Leader’s office. It was one of the few rooms where the lights were on, and as it turned out, I saw the supervillain seated at his desk, reading some papers. A clock on
the far wall told me it was a little past eleven. I got his attention with a gentle knock on the window. “Good evening, Your Excellency. I thought we might finish our interview.”
His face broke into an amazed grin and he leaped through the window, sending shards of flying glass everywhere. I wasn’t ready for the attack, and he almost knocked the wind out of me as he caught me in the breadbasket with his shoulder and carried us through the air to crash into a hillside a good quarter mile away. It hurt, but nowhere near as much as something like that should have.
“Excellent! Let’s make this look good,” he said.
“My pleasure.”
Braced against the hillside, I landed a crushing right into his jaw that sent him tumbling away in an arcing trajectory to the far side of the complex. I set my sights on him, pushed off of the hill and sped after him. I passed him before he could impact on the ground, hovered in his path and when he got to me, I raised both fists to deliver a downward follow-up smash that I hoped would put him down.
The Universe elected to give me a quick physics lesson at this point. When you’re hovering and not braced on anything, making a sudden movement like bringing your hands downward from overhead doesn’t work the way it would if you were standing on the ground. Instead of the incredibly cool move I intended, my attack only sent the lower half of my body up in kind of a sloppy jackknife maneuver. As a result, Glorious Leader crashed headfirst into my backside, and the transferred momentum ended with us both crashing into the turf of his equestrian center.
Being invulnerable didn’t mean you couldn’t end up with your marbles being rattled loose, and the impact jarred us both. Glorious Leader shook it off first. When he launched himself at me, he was maybe twenty yards away, saying, “Wow, be careful man. That almost took my head off!” He landed an uppercut before I could shake off the stars dancing around in front of me, and I was flying through the air in a lazy arc that crashed me face-first into a forested area on the other side of the hill. Several pine trees gave their lives to break my fall.
