The Guardians Omnibus

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  “If you can keep going, go ahead,” Dr. Madison instructed.

  “Oh, I can keep going.” Moments later, the titanium began to glow yellow-orange as it reacted to the extreme heat he pushed from his body. Several moments later, his body erupted in flame.

  He looked down at his body. It was surrounded by an orange flame that burned darker at his skin—it was almost purple, unlike a normal yellow and blue flame. His skin did not burn, and to his relief, his genitals remained unscathed.

  “We’re not ready for flame yet,” Dr Madison cautioned. Blake could sense irritation in her voice.

  “This happened on its own. Want me to stop?”

  “Um, no, keep going, we’ll adjust things on our end.”

  “How hot am I?” Blake called out.

  “Twenty-seven hundred degrees Fahrenheit. You cannot go over three thousand or the titanium chamber will melt.”

  “Just tell me when to stop.”

  Purple and orange fire raged over Blake’s body. Though initially separate, Blake realized his heat and fire powers were intrinsically linked. Although he could spontaneously generate fire on his body, his heat power would naturally morph or self-combust into flame at a certain point.

  “Okay, try to hold here. You’re at twenty-nine hundred and ninety degrees.”

  “I can go a little more,” Blake said, frowning. He looked down at his body again; it still appeared to be on fire rather than having become fire. He had not transmuted into flame like the Human Torch did in the comics and movies.

  “I’m sure you can, but we’ll have to get a new chamber, one not made of titanium. This one’s going to melt if you get any hotter and that kind of heat will barbecue us in seconds. Please stop right now!”

  Oh, duh.

  “Attempting to hold,” Blake said, focusing on maintaining his temperature rather than pushing it through the roof.

  “Very good let’s back down and stop.”

  Blake stopped generating heat and relaxed his stance. For a moment, he felt drained, but he recovered. Although the air system pulled cool air through cracks in the titanium chamber’s wall and the grate beneath his feet, he suddenly felt the oppressive heat of the hot metal around him.

  “We need to wait several minutes before we can safely open the door; we can’t even get near the chamber right now,” Dr. Madison announced.

  “Okay,” Blake responded. He put his hand out and pressed hard against the side of the titanium log, leaving a handprint on the hot, softened metal.

  Quinn has no idea of what he’s missing…it’s too bad because he could be learning about his powers and figuring out how to control them as well.

  “Okay, Blake, change of plans. Why don’t you go ahead and show us your fire powers?”

  Blake smiled and ignited his skin, a familiar yet different sensation than spontaneously combusting into flames moment ago. Once again, the flame glowed purple against his skin, like a super-heated mystical dark flame.

  He felt the chamber’s temperature rise quickly as he waved his arms around, bored in the confined space of the chamber. He stared at the wall in front of him. I wonder…

  He raised his right hand in front of him and aimed his palm at the metal wall.

  He focused.

  A moment later, a short column of flame leapt from his hand and fanned outward as it deflected away from the wall in front of him, following the contour of the chamber around him.

  “Okay, Blake, let’s stop. We’re approaching critical temperatures again,” Dr. Madison announced.

  That was fast. Blake pulled back with his mind and the flames licked out of existence, leaving only a small ball of flame dancing in the palm of his hand. He threw it against the wall and it dissipated.

  Not only can I create fire, but I can project it away from me. That will come in handy as a weapon.

  He grinned as the superheated metal warmed him.

  “Right, so we need to wait several minutes before we can safely open the door,” Dr. Madison announced.

  Ten long minutes later, Arik and Miguel struggled to open the door. Apparently, heating the chamber twice with a brief pause in between fused the door to the chamber walls.

  “Sorry, you’re going to have to climb out, Blake,” Arik said.

  Blake used the natural gaps between the titanium logs to get a foothold and climbed up the side of the chamber. He felt lighter than usual; either he was stronger today, or it was something else…but he couldn’t tell. At the top, there was only a foot of clearance between the exhaust fan canopy and the chamber, so he carefully maneuvered over the top.

  “Sorry about the view,” Blake announced as he hoisted himself between the space, awkwardly flashing the team his bottom side.

  When he climbed down, Arik handed him his running shorts. “Thanks for the apology, but some things can never be unseen,” he quipped.

  Blake chuckled. After he pulled on his shorts, he turned around and froze, momentarily surprised. Mother Superior and four armed guards stood near Victor’s workstation. His face conveyed displeasure and annoyance.

  Blake looked around, noting the odd behavior of the others in the room. Nadia typed away at a computer console while Arik and Miguel made themselves scarce. Dr. Madison also seemed nervous in the presence of Mother Superior.

  “Something wrong?” Blake asked, studying the armed guards.

  Silence.

  Victor cleared his throat. “Mother Superior has come to observe the tests we’re doing, Blake.” He glared at her as he spoke.

  “Enough of this,” Mother Superior spat. “Take him.”

  Two of the armed guards stepped forward, their eyes locked with Blake’s. He immediately sensed they were going to take him by force. One of them had a hypodermic needle in his hands.

  “Seriously?” Blake asked. “Didn’t we just learn that won’t work?”

  He raised his hand and flicked his fingers, ripping the needle from the man’s hands with his mind, sending it into the left thigh of the other man, who howled with surprise at the needle jab. A moment later, the guard’s eyes crossed and he stumbled, fighting to keep himself up.

  The first guard lunged at him. With speed, Blake stepped aside and turned with the guard, mentally pushing him to the other side of the room where he smashed into the pristine, white wall.

  “No don’t, no tasers!” Victor shouted.

  Blake heard Victor’s chair roll back. He spun around to see what Victor was upset about. His eyes locked onto the needle-like darts of a taser inches away from him.

  Oh shit.

  A split second later, fifty-thousand volts surged through him and blue electrical arcs careened over his body, neutralizing him. He gasped as his body involuntarily spasmed. The lights in the workroom flickered and a blast of electrical power exploded from him and flashed across the room.

  Then, he collapsed backward into darkness.

  2-16 | Snare of a Different Kind

  Quinn

  POLICE CRUISERS AND OTHER BLACK vehicles surrounded the Sheraton building and covered its egress points. In the courtyard, officials scurried back and forth between what Quinn assumed was the mobile command center and a police utility van. He listened for the sound of distressed voices, but he was either too far from the hotel or he couldn’t hear through the building’s multiple floors and roof.

  Think, Quinn, you’ve been inside this hotel before…how do you get in without being noticed?

  He smirked, then willed himself to become invisible. He descended to the ground, his glowing body and eyes now masked by his invisibility. This is too easy.

  Once inside the hotel lobby, he listened again for the sound of distressed voices, but heard nothing. Odd. Unless they’re gagged, I should hear whimpering or some kind of distressed sound.

  A group of police officers at a portable command station were talking about the situation, while others were busy about their own tasks.

  “Any sign of him?” the officer in charge asked.

&n
bsp; Where’s Chief Applegate?

  “No, our lookouts haven’t spotted the vigilante yet,” someone responded.

  “Do you think he’ll show?” another asked.

  “He better, or this will all have been for nothing.”

  That’s an odd statement to make during a hostage situation.

  Quinn decided to seize the moment since this cop didn’t seem opposed to his existence. “I’m already here,” Blue Spekter announced while shimmering into existence. His voice sounded different to him, like his vocal chords had shifted to protect his identity. He kept the hood of his white pullover sweatshirt draped over his head, knowing his glowing blue eyes and body would prevent them from getting a good look at his face.

  The startled officers jumped when he appeared, and several pulled their weapons, leveling them at him.

  Blue Spekter didn’t move, hoping they’d see he wasn’t a threat to them.

  “Stop!” the officer-in-charge exclaimed, gesturing for his people to stand down. “How did you get in here?”

  “Do you want to talk about how I walked through the doorway like you did, or should we talk about rescuing some hostages?” Blue Spekter countered.

  The man hesitated for a moment and then conceded. “I see your point. I’m Lieutenant Doral.”

  “Tell me what I can do to help, Lieutenant Doral.”

  Again, the man hesitated, his face and eyes appearing conflicted.

  “Time’s a wasting, lieutenant,” Blue Spekter said, hoping his formal approach would indicate his sincerity.

  Doral frowned and then swallowed. He spoke nervously, like he was withholding something important from Blue Spekter. “The short and sweet is, we have an armed, hostile man inside the second ballroom with six hostages; four are staff, two are guests. He’s made only one demand and it’s to speak with you. We don’t know what he wants or what he’ll do with the hostages once you’re in there.”

  “So, I’m allowed to go in there without pissing Chief Applegate off?”

  Doral shrugged. “It’s your lucky day, I guess. Will you go in there? And what will you do?”

  “I’ll go in there and assess the situation. If I can, I’ll take him out before he knows what hit him. Otherwise, I guess I’ll keep him talking.”

  “Take this,” Doral said, handing him his radio. “Call us if you need anything, if he’ll let you.”

  Blue Spekter nodded and levitated, floating his way down the hall. He tucked the radio into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. Police stared at him, their mouths agape.

  “Hi guys,” he said, waving at them. Okay, maybe I’m being too friendly; I want them to take me seriously.

  Several officers in full SWAT gear were standing at the door. Their eyes popped with surprise as he approached and landed ten feet from the door.

  “Officers, let me in please,” Blue Spekter said, keeping up the polite conversation.

  The two closest to the door readied themselves and gripped the door handles.

  “One moment,” the lead officer said. He gently knocked on the door and shouted through it. “Hello again, it’s the police. We’re going to open the door. It’s your lucky day…Blue Spekter is here.”

  “Finally!” a man shouted from the inside.

  They opened the door and Blue Spekter walked in, his eyes focusing on the man in the center of the opposite wall. As the doors closed behind him, he heard movement all around him. The supposedly hand-cuffed hostages pulled weapons from their backside and aimed at him.

  “Blue Spekter,” a voice boomed, “you will stop and surrender immediately to the Department of Homeland Security.”

  Shit, it’s a trap.

  Blue Spekter slowly turned around, surveying the armed officers and body-armored DHS agents who had surrounded him, their weapons drawn and pointed at him. They all wore tactical masks over their faces. His bright blue glow illuminated the white ballroom walls and reflected off the crystal chandeliers.

  If they open fire, they’ll all shoot themselves in the cross-fire. This is pretty stupid…unless they expect me to surrender and prove I’m the good guy, but we’ll see about that.

  “Blue Spekter!” the voice boomed, “By order of the United States Department of Homeland Security, you will put your hands above your head and slowly drop to your knees. Do you understand?” The male voice did not belong to Chief Applegate.

  “No, and yes I understand.” I guess I’m not the unidentified phenomenon anymore?

  “Put your hands above your head and drop to your knees!” the angry voice bellowed.

  He slowly turned toward the direction of the voice on his right. “Or what, you’ll shoot me? I’m in the middle of a circular firing squad. You’ll take each other out.” How do they not see this?

  Silence.

  Blue Spekter sighed. “I’ll make a deal with you…”

  “We do not negotiate with terrorists,” the voice cried out.

  Blue Spekter faced the voice, narrowing down who was yelling at him to two agents and slowly put his hands on his hips. “I’m not a terrorist. If you haven’t noticed, I saved people in this city…twice. If I wanted to terrorize you, I’d be destroying things left and right, and let’s face it, if I was the bad guy, none of you would make it out of here alive.”

  That ought to make some of these people reconsider what they’re about to do.

  “Put your hands above your head or my men will have no choice but to shoot you,” the voice shouted.

  “Go ahead,” Blue Spekter said, calling his bluff, realizing he wasn’t entirely sure if he was bulletproof or not.

  No one moved.

  “Seven and Nine, cuff him.”

  Behind him, two physically imposing agents stepped forward. Blue Spekter turned to face them, and they slowed their approach, caught up in the sight of being so close to his glowing eyes and body.

  That’s not going to last long with these guys.

  Behind him, movement distracted him. Two other burly agents charged him. Blue Spekter felt a new power surge within him—a power he hadn’t felt since he stopped the red car on Daniel Street from flattening the toddler. This time, however, it was different, stronger, and he knew exactly what it was.

  On his left and right, several agents drew tasers and fired at him.

  This was never about shooting me dead but capturing me alive.

  Blue Spekter’s defensive shield stopped the taser darts in mid-flight several inches from his body. They hovered in the air, electricity arcing between the highly charged electrodes until they harmlessly fell to the ground.

  Seconds before the four charging agents reached him, he leapt six feet into the air and backflipped over them. Stunned, the agents collided into one another as Blue Spekter landed closer to the group leader, the flailing, confused arms and legs of tangled agents crashing in a tangled pile on the floor behind him.

  I need to be careful; this capture effort is well-planned.

  “Second wave, move in!” the leader cried out.

  Blue Spekter heard the sound of tasers discharging their unpleasant electrodes. In a flash, he spun around with super speed and grabbed all the wires just behind the dangerous needlepoints. He spun around a second time and ripped the weapons from their hands. The tasers clattered on the carpeted floor at his feet.

  “Apex!” the leader shouted.

  Blue Spekter flinched at the loud sound of gunfire. With no time to react, he felt bullets striking his chest. Fearful for the men on the other side of the room, he jumped up and hovered near the ceiling, the bullets finding him there. He could feel them striking his body, ripping through his white hoodie, but he didn’t feel them penetrating his chest. At least, he didn’t think they were. Instead, the hot bullets bounced off or became entangled in between his body, T-shirt, and sweatshirt—until his defensive shield kicked in and deflected the bullets.

  “Enough!” he yelled, creating and directing blasts of water from his hands to the four agents shooting at him. The fire-hose st
rength water blasts he generated hit each agent with substantial force, knocking them off balance. They fell to the floor, dazed and confused.

  He flew down to the agent he thought was in charge. The hard-plastic masks made it difficult for him to see whose mouth was moving when they shouted orders, and his super hearing wasn’t guaranteeing accuracy. “That was a brand-new sweatshirt you just shot up! This ends now before your people get hurt.”

  “This ends when you surrender!” he shouted back, glancing at the sweatshirt.

  Yup, that’s him.

  “I will not surrender to you, ever.” Blue Spekter shouted, grabbing the man by his body armor. He then flew with him to the center of the room and hovered four feet above the ground, holding the leader by his armor in mid-air. The police officers around him cocked and aimed their weapons.

  “Listen to me,” Blue Spekter shouted, his voice louder than expected. He rotated slowly as he spoke to the agents, softening his voice. “Most of you have girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands or wives, children, families, and this douchebag wants you to risk losing everything by trying to take me out. You can’t. You probably never will but know this: if I was the bad guy, you’d all be dead right now. I’m not the bad guy.”

  He pulled the man close to his face, but his bright blue eyes forced the man to squint and avoid eye contact. “I know you don’t believe me, but one day you will remember the day you tried to take me in and I let you live. I’ll always let you live because I’m not a killer.”

  Blue Spekter thought about dropping the man, but quickly thought better of it. He landed and put the leader down on his feet.

  “Thanks,” the leader said smugly, quickly aiming his handgun at Blue Spekter’s face.

  “Stop, already,” Blue Spekter said, feeling annoyed.

  “Okay,” the leader said sarcastically, lowering the handgun. Then, when it was aimed at Blue Spekter’s left leg, he fired.

  “Ow!” Blue Spekter cried out, surprised at the sharp pinch he felt on his left thigh. He looked down; his sweatpants had a new bullet hole in them, but there was no gush of blood. “What the hell?” Blue Spekter yelled.