Semper Fi

by Evan Currie

  The blast tore through the riot shield like tissue paper, then through the officer’s body armor, and finally into blood and bone. Heat caused the blood to vaporize, a red mist that accomplished what polycarbonate and Kevlar had failed to do, stopping the blast finally just before it could have hit the bus.

  Hale twisted, a rage seething inside him, but had no time to act on it as he was forced to move to intercept the next blast.

  USSOCOM Bunker, Virginia

  “What was that?” Pierson snapped, leaning forward. “Run that screen back!”

  The screen in question was mirrored on a smaller screen while the main one continued live. They watched the officer sacrifice himself, and Hale again being pushed on the defense, but Pierson was more focused on the playback.

  “There! What the hell is that?” She pointed to what looked like a… hole in the air behind Hale.

  A hole that the flashbang grenade had come through.

  “Some kind of teleportation?” The NSA technician asked.

  “We’ve never seen anything like that,” Pierson said intently. “but I won’t write it off. Someone else is there, watching. Predator drone! Find them!”

  “On it,” The CIA desk said, already picking up a phone. “Not sure what we’re looking for, though.”

  “Let’s hope we know it when we see it,” Pierson said.

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  *****

  Berlin

  “Well,” Malcolm blinked as he munched on some of his popcorn, “I did not see that coming. Looks like the Marine isn’t the only one down there with a hero complex.”

  Tessa snorted, “He is now. Idiot cop.”

  “Now, now, Tessa,” Pitr said cheerfully, “Don’t attack others for how they choose to die. Nothing wrong going out a hero, if that’s your choice.”

  She rolled her eyes, but didn’t respond.

  “He’s slowing,” She said after a moment. “Weakening.”

  Pitr nodded, “He is at that. What do you know, Nietzsche’s ideal he isn’t after all.”

  Below them it was indeed clear that the Marine was faltering. He was grounded mostly now, only taking to the air in short bursts as needed to intercept shots aimed above him. His uniform was in tatters, scorched and burning, and he seemed to have a limp when he moved despite how quickly he was still managing to interpose himself between the bus and the shots.

  “Going to slow the rate of fire?” Pitr asked idly.

  “No,” Tessa said coldly.

  “The kids will killed,” He reminded her.

  “He is going to fail,” She promised in a hiss.

  Pitr shrugged.

  Seemed a little extreme to him, but he was never quite as driven as Tessa had been in the movement. Not that either of them truly cared for the movement, of course. That was why they worked well with each other. It wasn’t about causes or ideology, it was about getting to hurt people and having their own power confirmed.

  That was only more important now, he supposed.

  “Hardly matters,” Malcolm shrugged, “I grabbed kids from… lesser families, shall we say?”

  Malcolm, on the other hand, had always been a bit more of an idealist. Not really to Pitr’s personal taste, but to each his own. That was Pitr’s philosophy, after all. Make your own way in life, stand on your own merits. That was the only way to be truly liberated.

  Tessa was smiling now, thin and more than slightly creepy though that smile might be.

  “Get us some more pretzels, Pitr,” She said, “I want to enjoy watching this hero fail.”

  “You and the entire world,” Malcolm said as Pitr opened a rift to the pretzel shop. “This fight is on every channel, and is streaming everywhere.”

  “Beautiful.”

  *****

  USSOCOM Bunker, Virginia

  “Ma’am we can’t deploy a Hellfire into BERLIN,” The CIA analyst affirmed. “That would require Presidential authorization, if not congressional authority. That’s not Baghdad, Ma’am.”

  “Hale might survive this, but those kids won’t,” Pierson hissed.

  “I know that, but short of a presidential order there’s nothing I can do,” The man insisted. “Protocol on that is iron clad. Germany is not a hostile nation, and it’s not a declared warzone.”

  Someone snorted.

  “Could have fooled me.”

  They ignored the voice.

  “Ma’am, I want to do something as much as you do, but we can’t.”

  Pierson growled in frustration, but turned away, her fists clenched at her side.

  “Have we found anyone yet?”

  “No, we’re looking, but it’s a city ma’am. There are people everywhere.”

  Not even the Generals present wanted to approach the pissed of Army Colonel after she let out a strangled sound of rage. Everyone quickly found things to do as far away from her as possible.

  *****

  The world was glued to their screens, watching with mixed emotions as the man known across the globe simple as ‘The Marine’ was hammered by blasts they could barely fathom, refusing to move from where he’d placed himself. That it was between children and a mob seemingly intent on killing them only upped the emotions across the world.

  Riots in other cities, even around Berlin, slowed as the story got out and more people where told “you’ve got to see this!” by someone close by.

  The video went out, with translations in every major language, and quite a few that were considered minor.

  Some watched in horror. Some with a gleeful excitement and innocence. Others with a glee born of maliciousness.

  All, however, watched intently and with the knowledge that this moment mattered… even if they didn’t understand why.

  *****

  Berlin

  Hale gasped for breath as he dove across the gap between himself and the next blast, catching it in the side before being thrown back and to the ground. He bounced, getting back to his feet, trying desperately to ignore the bodies on the ground around him.

  Every one of them, every uniformed body lying there in a bloody mist, was a personal failure.

  One time he missed.

  One time someone else had to take up his slack.

  Steeling himself, he came to a stop in time to catch the next blast on his arms, faltering slightly as he started moving again.

  There!

  He got there in time, catching the next blast, but it drove him back again. He was trying to summon up the strength to go on, but it was starting to become more and more difficult to find it in himself. He was close enough to the bus now that he could hear kids screaming, banging on the windows.

  Some of them didn’t even sound scared, like they thought he was going to save them.

  Hale envied them that innocence.

  He knew he wasn’t going to succeed. He was only hanging on at this point because he was a bloody minded bastard when he made a decision, and as far as decisions went this was one he was willing to die on anyway.

  He just wished he had a blasting power himself.

  Show a few of those bastards something.

  He gathered himself up, refusing to back down or give up, not even in the face of defeat.

  He straightened up, glaring down the street at the attackers, and spit blood.

  “Semper Fi!” He screamed, flashing through the air to intercept the next.

  *****

  “That is one stubborn bastard,” Pitr said with clear admiration.

  Tessa glared at him, “You like him!”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Pitr corrected, “I admire him. There’s a difference.”

  She snorted, “I don’t see what.”

  He shrugged, “I wouldn’t kill someone I like, fraulein. Someone I admire? Meh, I’ll regret it slightly, but only slightly.”

  “It’s a waste,” Malcolm said, sounding annoyed. “All this effort, for inferior stock like that? He’s too stupid to live, if he’s willing to die for such as those.”
<
br />   Tessa just rolled her eyes at the two of them.

  “You’re both idiots,” She snapped. “He’s going to die, yes, but not because he’s defending them. He’s going to die because he’s trespassing in our city, and ruining our fun. That’s it, that’s all. He’s going to die a failure because that is the statement I choose to make of him. You both overthink things.”

  *****

  A last blast caught Hale in the face, snapping his head back with force that he’d not felt since before he was changed. He tried to catch himself but he couldn’t, and he felt the back of his head bounce off the bus before he fell to his knees on the road surface below.

  Desperately, he planted his hands and tried to push back to his feet but he slipped. Explosions tore around him, throwing him to his face on the ground as the blasts ripped through the bus and showered him in shrapnel. Hale screamed, slamming his fist into the ground as he pushed up, only to catch another blast in the face and be thrown back.

  Like from far away, Hale heard explosions. He struggled back to his feet, a thudding hitting him from all directions with a rhythmic force that he first mistook for his heart beat.

  Wind whipped at him and he looked up to see the beating reflections of a familiar sight. Rotor blades beat the air down on him as flashes of light silhouetted a figure tossing a thick rope down from the bird. The figure followed the rope out and down a moment later, sliding down the swaying line until coming to it’s end about twenty feet up and dropping the rest of the way.

  Asphalt indented where the figure hit the ground in front of him, and Hale tensed slightly as he blinked away the last of the ringing and lights.

  “Hey Cap,” A familiar voice said. “Good job, but take a breather.”

  Lana smiled at him before her face set and she turned back to the mob, who were picking themselves up off the ground, holding their heads, and stumbling around.

  “I’ve got this one.”

  *****

  Chapter 10

  Blue Solar HQ, London

  Wesley scowled as he watched the wall size screen, the video feed pulling from the national network’s Berlin stream.

  Like everyone else in the world.

  The video was phenomenal, and he had no doubt that someone was going to turn it into movies before too long, with the names changed if no one could get the Marine to sell his story to them. Wesley didn’t know what the chances of that was, and didn’t really care to be honest, though he would advise the man to sell his rights to someone he trusted soon if only so he could maintain some degree of control over them.

  Hmm, the Marine Corps probably would have some sort of say in such a sale, Wesley mused as most of his attention remained on the video. He is using their image, though it’s not like they have full trademark protections either. I wonder what a Judge would say…

  His half distracted musings were broken as he, like the rest of the world, found himself holding his breath when the Marine put himself between the bus and the shooters. He felt a pained stab in his heart each time a cop died in that same defense.

  Wesley silently lifted a glass each time, taking a drink to the men as they fell.

  Good show, friends. Good show.

  The Marine was getting all the attention from most of the announcers, of course. He was making for spectacular viewing, even Wesley would admit to that. However it was the cops that Wesley admired, though he would admit to some grudging admiration for the Marine as the man obviously began to falter and lose strength yet refused to stay down.

  He set his drink carefully on the table beside him, unwilling to risk cutting his hand if he clenched it into a fist and shattered the glass. He had no assets in berlin to speak of, though that was in the process of being changed, and there was not a damn thing he could do but watch like everyone else as people died trying to prevent an atrocity.

  Inhuman bastards, He thought as the video shifted to show the mob blasting away with powers that no human being had any right to wield, least of all an out of control pack of vermin like that.

  He thought about the ongoing experiments he was conducting, hoping to recreate what had been done, and didn’t know if it were better or worse that super humans come from his lab or the unknown perpetrator’s. Either way, they were a threat, but at least his subjects were volunteers who’d been heavily screened before hand.

  He slammed his hand down as he saw the Marine finally fall, explosions tearing the bus to shreds. His throat tightened with the rage, even as a series of lighter explosions rocked the mob itself.

  Flashbangs, a lot of them… that’s an American Black Hawk.

  He didn’t recognize the newcomer who used a fast rope to drop from the chopper to the ground, but at least someone had been able to respond without getting killed.

  So far, anyway.

  *****

  Berlin

  Hale groaned as he leaned back on the wreckage of bus and felt more than heard men running up around him. They were in police uniforms, mostly riot gear, and quickly established a shield wall between the bus and the mob while Lana marched down the street. He winced as he saw the former Navy Corpsman draw her fighting blade from the small of her back.

  “I almost pity the fools,” He laughed painfully, spitting out blood.

  “Are you ok?” An officer asked, looking him over and waving for a first aid kit.

  “I’ll live,” Hale said, looking over his shoulder, his guts balling up in a cold little pit. “Oh God, the kids?”

  “We got them out,” The officer said, “we cut a hole in the other side while you were holding off the fire.”

  Hale nodded, “Good plan. Wish I’d thought of it.”

  “You did enough.” The Officer told him, looking over his shoulder. “Who’s she?”

  “Best damn medic I ever worked with, and boy I would not want to be those guys right now.”

  “Medic?” the cop sounded skeptical.

  Hale winced as he felt out the burns on his arms, “You ever seen a pissed off medical professional, officer?”

  “I cannot say that I have.”

  “Take a piece of advice then,” Hale said, “never ever piss off a combat medic. Knowing how to put you back together means they’re really damn good at knowing how to take you apart. Slowly.”

  The officer looked at him sharply, “Killing them might become an issue…”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure she’s not going to kill anyone,” Hale said chuckling weakly.

  Lana would consider death to be too damn good for them.

  *****

  Kids? KIDS?

  Lana was incensed, anyone disgusting enough to open fire on children had no pity or mercy coming from her, that was for certain. She started by stalking in their direction, slowly increasing her speed with each step. She was no fast mover like the Captain, but her changes had affected her body in numerous ways just as his had.

  She drew the short blade tanto from the small of her back as she got about halfway to the mob. They were still recovering from the deluge of flashbangs she’d gotten the Black Hawk’s gunner to put on target upon arrival.

  They really couldn’t do much more than that, simply due to the rules and regulations surrounding use of military assets in a civilian area outside an actual declared warzone. Technically, she was pretty sure they’d torched a whole bunch of those rules with the flash bangs, but at the same time she was pretty sure no one who mattered were going to really care.

  Hosing down the motherfuckers with a machine gun on the streets of Berlin, on the other hand, would raise a stink of truly epic proportions.

  Lana was reasonably certain that everyone involved would ultimately walk free, mind you. They were talking about saving a bunch of kids, after all, but she had an allergy to paperwork from overexposure during her time in the service, and sure as hell didn’t want to deal with the publicity and other bullshit a straight up military intervention would result in.

  Besides, it wasn’t needed.

  Cap alone c
ould have handled these idiots if he weren’t keeping the kids gloves on, Lana knew that with certainty. She knew his orders, his mission, and she knew that he wasn’t the sort to really let loose without damn good reason.

  She was also pretty certain that reason had been delivered, however. It sure as hell had been delivered to her, at least.

  Lana broke into a flat sprint over the last third of the distance, noting that make of the targets were back on their feet and stumbling around a lot less. She focused on the ones that seemed in the best shape, and the ones she knew to be the sources of some of the blasts aimed at the bus.

  The first seemed willing to meet her, not quite halfway, but close enough. Lana dropped into a skid, one leg forward as she slid past him slashing out the back of his leg with her blade. He roared in pain and toppled as she came to a stop, so she kicked up and nailed him in the temple on his way down, then bounced back to her feet as she shifted the knife grip to a standard fighting position.

  “Fire on kids, you little bastards?” She snarled. “I’m gonna make this hurt.”

  *****

  Pitr grimaced as he watched the scene below.

  “Ouch. Ok, let’s not ever let her know we had anything to do with his, alright?” He suggested. “The Marine will just beat us to a pulp, but I don’t want to go through that.”

  Tessa was actually smiling, clearly enjoying the show.

  “She’s skilled with the knife.”

  “She’s a medic,” Malcolm said from where he was still chomping on popcorn. “I can see the Asclepios staff on her uniform from here. I imagine she likes knives more than guns.”

  “I can see why, oh that was nasty. I like this woman,” Tessa said, “Also, for the record, your eyesight is bullshit.”

  Malcolm calmly tossed a handful of popcorn at her before returning his attention to the fight.

  “You would like her,” Pitr muttered, shaking his head.

  “Pity she has to die.”

  Malcolm and Pitr exchanged glances, then looked over to the now very serious looking Tessa. They silently had a debate over who would broach the topic, before Pitr sighed and nodded to his friend.