Miracle's Touch

by J. A. Cipriano

  I still had his creepy, lifeless bald head in my hands, lubricant leaking all over my lap and the floor. Instinctively, I tossed it away, sending it rolling across the room to thump against John’s feet.

  He didn’t really notice, his eyes still fixed on me and the inert android in front of me. “I’ll be damned,” he whispered low. A faint smile cracked his lips as he picked his way carefully around the robot’s body towards me. “Paint me impressed, Chris.”

  He was about to say something else, about to reach down to give me a hand up, when the entire wall facing out to the street disassembled itself, Paragon hurtling through the empty space in a blur. Robot guts were still clenched in his fists as the wall put itself back together behind him, right down to the still-percolating coffee machine. There was something wrong about that, but I was distracted by the pure protective instinct that pulsed off of him.

  “I’m here, Christine! I will protect …” His booming, angry voice trailed off as he took in the scene. “… you?”

  18

  “You’re too late, big guy,” John snorted, eyeing the most powerful superhero on the planet as if he were just another guy who wandered into his house. “She already did the protecting.” He finished holding his hand down to me.

  Taking his hand, the lingering spark of my surging power danced through our touch. Totally inappropriate to the moment, I remembered how close I had come to asking John out. How close we had come investigating Omnitech. How we had almost kissed a half-dozen times. Now, with his heart and eyes storming, I wanted to do that again, even as my heart still felt warm at the thought of Robert’s touch.

  And it was that touch that broke me out of the daze I was in, his firm hand on my shoulder. I had stood up or been pulled up by John, and now both men were staring at me with concern, Paragon’s protective instincts dancing with John’s honest worry.

  “Christine,” Robert said, “are you all right?”

  “I think she’s fine,” John added. “Just a little roughed up from tangling with that hunk of junk.”

  I shook my head, the aches and pains of the fight starting to come back strong. “Yeah, I’m still getting used to being bounced off walls by bad guys.” I smiled up at Robert hovering over my shoulder, putting my hand on his. “Really, I’m good.”

  That assuaged the worst of both their worries, but there was a distinct tension still running in the room. Paragon smiled at me before glancing at John, then at the robot. As I could see the gears turning behind his hazel eyes, he idly gestured towards the wall Ken Doll had broken through. It rebuilt itself in moments, and the oddness of it hit me again, even as Robert frowned vaguely.

  “This is one of Hardware’s top-of-the-line enforcer models, hardened enough to delay even me for a few moments.” That made the source of the robot parts he had dropped on the floor obvious. “While I would never doubt your capabilities, Christine, how did you manage to destroy this one?”

  John had retrieved his pistol off the ground, shooting Robert an incredulous glance. “The lady gets knocked around saving my ass, and you’re more worried about how she beat it?”

  While John had a point, I knew Robert’s question came from worry, not from some petty impulse. “It’s okay, John. Paragon’s not wrong, this is … beyond what I thought I could do. However, I’m more wondering how you rebuild the walls and everything else so quickly? I know you can make basic shapes and items quickly but … you even reformed the coffee and produce. That’s organic matter.”

  Robert’s eyes widened as he shook his head slightly. “I … I didn’t even think about it. I was so worried when communications were cut, then Hardware’s robots attacked me. I just … did what I felt I had to do.” His hand went to his chin, rubbing his beard as his terrific brain dropped into thought.

  “Seriously?” John scoffed as he shook his head, replacing his empty magazine with a fresh one from his pocket. “Hardware tries to kidnap me and smash Chris into dust, and you guys are worried about some whacky new power you have? God, becoming a mask must make you crazy or something.”

  Robert glowered at the ex-Marine, puffing up a bit, but I laid a hand on Robert’s chest that calmed him immediately. “Sorry, John, you’re absolutely right. We have a much bigger issue to deal with. Let’s be honest. It can’t be a coincidence Hardware found you minutes after I showed up here.”

  “Yes, I suppose you are right, Mr. Munroe,” Robert acquiesced. “Seeing as Hardware knew to try to keep me occupied as well, I can only assume he had been observing the two of us since the attack last night.”

  John tucked his pistol away, feeling comfort in it even though he knew it would be little help against the dangers haunting him now. “Guess that explains a lot. I saw the news about your little charity kerfuffle last night.” He glanced nonchalantly at me. “So, you’ve got to be Ms. Miracle, then? The name’s a bit corny, but I can’t argue with it. You sure saved my ass.”

  He was observant, and I knew he saw more than just the surface connection between last night’s events, Paragon, and me. There was a pang of desire and envy buried deep down under the simmering anger. He turned to look out the window, nodding his head towards the growing sounds of sirens.

  “Anyway, if we’re going to do anything productive, we’d better hustle. The blue boys will be here soon, and I’m sure they’ll love this mess.” John sighed. “Probably toss me into jail with no cause.”

  Robert raised an eyebrow. “Trust me, Mr. Munroe, Ms. Miracle” – he snapped his fingers and the missing pieces of my uniform, my thigh-high boots, mask, and gloves, materialized around me – “and I can vouch for your innocence here. Assuming that firearm is properly licensed, of course.”

  Even I rolled my eyes at that. “Paragon, I know you want to assume that every precinct of the NHPD is saintly, but we’re in Happy Heights, and John’s reputation isn’t sterling, as you pointed out.” I poked him in the chest with a hopefully disarming smile. “At the very least, one of us needs to get him out of here while the other deals with the authorities.”

  Robert grumbled under his breath at that, but he couldn't come up with a good counter-argument, something that frustrated him. Meanwhile, John had already snagged a battered duffle bag from a closet, a bug-out bag if I were to guess, one hand still stuffed in his gun pocket.

  “Neither of you is taking me anywhere while you’re being tracked.” Despite the approaching sirens, John kept cool as a cucumber. “Hardware jammed your comms, right? Makes sense he can track the signal.”

  “But these are S.O.S. Laboratory’s best secure channels —” Paragon explained, but John rolled over him.

  “You can crack anything, so they’re fubar’d, Washington. Chris, you should ditch yours. Bob, keep yours, throw him off the trail while we get out of here.”

  Robert crossed his arms over his chest as his frustration grew to a boiling point. “I don’t think you’re in the position to give orders anymore, Mr. Munroe. You should let the professionals handle this.”

  John’s brows knit together as that simmering fury that always laid below the surface bubbled up. He began to stalk towards Paragon, not giving two cares that Robert could swat him like a gnat. “Yeah, maybe not, but I’m the only one talking sense here. Easy to not care about the details when your indestructible chrome dome is up in the clouds, huh?”

  “Okay, boys,” I interrupted, stepping between the two with arms out. “We’re all on the same side here, and you’re both right, well, partially.” I looked at Robert. “Hardware could have cracked the security on these earbuds, we have to accept that.” Turning my gaze to John, I nodded. “And you’re going to have to accept that Paragon isn’t an amateur at this.”

  They both seemed to listen to me, so I pressed on. “We need to work together because we have to assume now that Hardware’s going after the Omniarmor hard. He isn’t going to stop trying to get you, John, and he isn’t going to stop trying to find it some other way.”

  Robert let out a low, long breath. “You
are correct.” He looked past me to John. “My apologies, Mr. Munroe. I am simply upset that Christine was in danger again so soon after last night.”

  “She’s obviously not a china doll, big guy, but I can’t fault you for caring.” John’s grey eyes cast a quick glance at me. “Chris’s something special, for sure. And yeah, she’s right. If I’m going to give a shit about this now, I’ve got to admit I need your help to stop Hardware here.”

  “See, that wasn’t so hard?” Flashing a playful smirk at the two of them, I wasn’t as surprised as I maybe should have been at the tugging in my core towards both of them. They were both strong, dedicated, passionate men, not to mention incredibly handsome. As they grudgingly nodded at me, I managed to put my passion in a box … for the moment.

  We still had a day to save and all.

  “I will destroy my communicator as soon as I finish dealing with the police,” Robert said, cutting through my thoughts. “They may not realize it yet, but they will let me take this android into custody. I’ll take it to S.O.S. and let Archimedes get to work on it. Perhaps we can track it back to Hardware.”

  “Now you’re thinking, Washington,” John chuckled. “Where are we going to hole up, then? I can take you guys to the armor, but we should do it with full forces. We can’t assume we’ll beat Hardware there, not now.”

  “I’ll take you to the manor,” I said as I plucked the earbud out, crushing it between my fingers. “Sure, Hardware knows Robert hangs his cape there, but it’s got the best defenses. A heck of a lot better than my apartment or the Sentinel.” As the two men looked at me with concern, I shrugged. “Look, again, we have to admit that Hardware knows more than we think. Best to assume he knows my secret identity, and that makes both of those places dangerous. We can’t put more innocents in the crossfire.”

  Paragon nodded with a broad smile. “Again, you impress me, Christine. Benedict will show you the safe rooms under the manor. Go there and wait. I don’t think I’ll be long.”

  John scoffed. “You stole my line, bud, but that sounds like a sound strategy.” The sirens were loud now, definitely parked down at the base of the building. “We better scoot. Which makes me wonder how we’re doing that?” He arched an eyebrow over at me, curiosity spiking through him.

  “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” I flashed him a grin as I opened my arms towards him.

  “As long as I’m not falling from them, I’m good.” John took a tentative few steps forward as Robert positioned himself at the door to intercept any especially eager officers.

  “Good.” In one deft movement too fast for the ex-Marine to protest, I scooped him up in a bridal carry. Quelling the little tingle in my spine and the thought of taking him like this to my bed, I smiled at his surprised look. “Just hold on tight.”

  Paragon gave me one last back glance, one eyebrow arched. “Be careful, Christine. Be safe.”

  Smiling back at him, I slide open the window opposite the front door. “Always, dear. See you soon!”

  “Can the flirting,” John snarled. “We’ve got to move.” Despite that snark, John did indeed grab me about the neck, not too proud to hold on tight.

  With a last nod, I stepped through the window to the ledge, and from there, with John gripped tight to me, I leaped out into the city with one mighty bound, hitting the next nearest rooftop. He caught the gasp of amazement in his throat from the first jump, and by the second, this one arcing us a clear three city blocks, John was whooping, sounding just like I did when I first did this myself.

  Despite the danger that was hounding our steps, I beamed with the feeling of freedom as my jumps became more and more like short flights. “Next stop, Halcyon Bluffs!”

  19

  “While I don’t begrudge your needs as a guest, Major Munroe,” Benedict said calmly, hands folded behind his back, “I suspect Master Washington would not approve of you field stripping your firearms here in the safe room.”

  While our bounding trip across from Happy Heights to the Bluffs had been nothing but peaceful bliss, things had gotten quickly down to business once we got to Washington Manor. Workmen were still hard at work as dusk approached to fully restore the front hall and ballroom, so I landed us atop the center most tower, hoping that Robert had gotten word to Benedict somehow to expect us.

  While I seemed to be only growing in strength, I sure as heck didn’t want to see what kind of security system Robert could afford.

  Fortunately, Benedict knew not only to wait for us but met us at the exact tower I aimed for. I don’t know how, and I didn’t feel the need to ask. From there, he led us directly through a series of bio-metrically locked doors into a secure, interior staircase that led down to what he called the safe room.

  I would have called it an underground base of operations that would have made the President jealous. The walls were still the natural rock of the bluff below the mansion but reinforced with metal supports, and the complex had to be at least a dozen chambers, from a fully stocked kitchen and pantry to an elaborate computer set-up linked to the mansion’s security system. It had everything you could imagine and then some, all powered by a fusion reactor that could keep the whole complex running for, well, probably forever.

  So, while I thanked Benedict for showing us down, John sat down on one of the comfy-looking leather couches, set his duffel on the coffee table, and started unloading. He didn’t pull out a spare set of socks, though. John’s bag probably had all that too, but the first things he pulled out were a first-aid kit, a deadly-looking, well-kept assault rifle, and a gun cleaning kit. Without a word to anyone, he wrapped up his broken knuckles, only grunting an assent when I began to help him with that, before taking the gun apart and working on it.

  After Benedict’s comment, John glanced up with a faint glower. “First, Jeeves, I’m not a major. Not anymore. Second, I don’t care that much what Bob thinks. He can turn a wall into water and punch through a comet.” He scoffed as he turned back to his rifle. “Some of us can’t do that, so we need to use ugly little things called weapons, right?”

  I folded my arms over my chest and gave John a glare of my own. “John, come on. Benedict is just trying to do his job and treat you with respect. Whether you think so or not, you do deserve that.”

  “Really, Ms. Klein, it’s quite all right,” Benedict tried to say, but John cut him off before he could finish, raising a hand for silence.

  With a frown, his brow knit in consternation, John sighed. “No, Jee … Benedict. Chris’s right.” He looked at the elderly butler sidelong. “You’re a working stiff like most of us. You don’t deserve me giving you grief. I’ve just … my world’s kind of in an even worse tailspin than it was before. I’m a bit testy.”

  Benedict nodded with a bit of a twinkle in his eye. “Oh, I most certainly understand, Mr. Munroe. Please, carry on with your work. I will see about sending down some refreshments shortly.” He glanced over at me. “Is there anything else I can do for either of you, Ms. Klein?”

  “Just let me know when Robert gets back or if any word comes in about either the S.O.S. murder or what happened in the Heights,” I said, biting my lip in thought. “While I’m not worried about us now, I’m not happy leaving Hardware to his devices. He could hurt a lot of people before we stop him, something we’re not doing down here.”

  “Of course,” he nodded at my request. “But do keep up the faith, ma’am. I’m confident you and Master Washington can thwart this vile fiend before he does too much damage.”

  Flashing him a smile, I nodded. “I hope so. Thank you, Benedict.”

  “Of course.” With that, he retreated up the stairs, the vault door closing with a pressurized hiss.

  John’s thick fingers never stopped their work, expertly disassembling and cleaning the weapon, even as his eyes flitted towards me. “Sorry, Chris.”

  I let out a little huff of a sigh as I peeled back my cowl and shook my hair free. “It’s okay. You have every reason to be upset.” I smiled at him, settin
g a hand on my hip. “Honestly, I should be the one apologizing to you for dragging you into this.”

  “Eh,” he grunted as he looked back to his work, “Maybe he tracked you, but he would have found me any way you slice it.” His lips curved into a smile. “I mean, a reporter and a rich guy found me out fast enough, didn’t they?”

  I laughed as I eased myself onto the couch next to him, letting myself actually relax for a moment. My thigh was bruising where the android had smooshed my leg, but honestly, I was feeling a lot better than I should have for the tumbles I took.

  “I think you’re understating the facts, but you’re basically right.” I slowly and carefully put a gloved hand on his shoulder. “I’m still worried about you. I’m sorry … well … I’m sorry that I let you disappear like you did.”

  The bubbling annoyance, worry, and amusement that had been dancing in John were swept away by a dark cloud. “Why? I’m the one that did the disappearing. Figured it was for the best. You’re too much of a class act to get mixed up with me, not back then, and sure as hell not now.”

  “That’s not exactly what I was talking about,” I said, feeling the heat rise inside me.

  “But that’s part of it.” John shook his head as he began to clean the rifle’s barrel. “Look, I’m not jealous that you and Mr. Clean have hooked up. I might think he has a stick up his ass from everything I’ve heard, but he seems like a good man.” He was lying, at least a little. Pangs of jealousy were there, egged on by self-loathing. I was determined not to let him slip into that.

  “John.” My firm voice must have impressed on him my desire for him to pay attention because he put the barrel down and glanced over at me. “You’re a good man too. Even now, when you really have no reason to, you’re going to do the right thing. They say it isn’t what you do in the sun that shows if you’re a good man, it’s what you do when things are their darkest.”