Blackjack Dead or Alive (The Blackjack Series Book 3)

by Ben Bequer

  Apogee looked at me.

  “Fellow’s name wouldn’t happen to be Bubu?”

  “Persistent little fucker, he is,” she said. “Must’ve called every available number, until they passed him on to me. Do you know what time it is?”

  I finished getting into the robe and Apogee secured it with a tight knot.

  “I’m sorry if he woke you, Ruby,” I said. “But it sounds like it’s an important message.”

  “It damned well better be. He said, ‘tell the bro – check his email right now,’ and now I’ve done it. Good night to both of you.”

  She paused as she regarded both Apogee and I, shaking her head, “Must be the sense of humor or something?”

  Apogee laughed, “Night, hon, and thanks.”

  “I need a computer,” I told Apogee and she turned to one of the solid-light walls, reconfiguring it, a monitor and keyboard popping into existence within easy reach. I went to our private email server, logged in and saw I had fifty-nine thousand emails waiting for me.

  “Jesus,” Apogee said, as I scrolled through. Most of the emails were random fan mail, or junk offers for penile enlargement. Bubu had attached this email to the social media accounts and somehow it had gotten out.

  I opened one at random. It had an attachment, and the title, “WE WANT TO FUXX YOU!!!!!!!” and inside was an image of a girl – a nice looking blonde who was a bit too tanned and had huge fake boobs, along with her friend who looked like a photocopy. They were naked, sticking dildos into each other. It was the most interesting selfie I had ever seen.

  “Classy,” Apogee said.

  “Flexible,” I added.

  “You want to look for Bubu’s message now?”

  I giggled at her squeamishness, “What’s with you, anyway?” I gestured to the robe. “It’s not like Ruby’s never seen – “

  “This,” Apogee said waving her hand over my whole body, “belongs to me. Get it?”

  “A little jealous, huh?”

  “A lot,” she said, shoving past me and taking over the keyboard – she was keyed into Superdynamic’s system where I, as a visitor, wasn’t. The wall reconstituted itself, shifting the keyboard in front of her.

  “First we delete the twin bitches,” she said, erasing the message.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Girls like that are persistent.”

  The look she shot at me would have curdled the blood of a lesser man.

  “I’m kidding!”

  Her lips pressed into a humorless line but she turned back to the console, fast-forwarding until she saw Bubu’s most recent message. It read, simply “Watch this video” with a link to a private YouTube account. I didn’t need to be fully awake and healed to recall the username, and who it belonged to – Brutal.

  There were only two videos on the account – the first of which I had already seen.

  “Open the second one,” I told Apogee and she double clicked on the link.

  Brutal filled the frame, the setting exactly the same as the previous message. He was sipping at a drink. The bar’s dark ambiance cast him half in shadow, over his shoulder, people danced to the sound of electronic dance music. It was loud enough to give the impression that Brutal was part of the festivities, though it was obvious he was in an area cordoned off from the rest.

  “Are we ready?” he said, and put down his drink. Apogee gave me a severe look, almost as if expecting some sort of hidden betrayal.

  Brutal sat back on the couch and took a deep breath before smiling.

  “Hi,” he said, pausing then growing suddenly concerned. “I understand what happened,” he went on. “When those guys attacked us, I thought they were with you. I mean, you’re the one that likes to keep the company of others, no?”

  Apogee scoffed, “Fucking psycho.”

  “Anyway, I’m sorry,” Brutal said. “I’m sorry for my reaction to all of it, I’m sorry for thinking you were involved – though you have to admit, the whole having a double running around mucking things up has to be pretty fun, right? I mean no greater form of flattery.”

  He paused, eyeing the drink, “Though I guess this one’s trying to kill you, so maybe not so much.”

  Brutal was tense, more serious than he had been before – almost as if he was somehow embarrassed. Well, no apology was going to erase the deaths of thousands, maybe tens of thousands.

  “So I hope we have that settled,” he said. “And I hope you understand what I had to go through to get your attention – so we could even have our meeting. I went through a lot of trouble, you know? Doing this kind of thing-” he gestured at the camera, “requires people with expertise in things I know nothing of. And you can imagine that it’s hard for me to find people who want to work with me.”

  “Throw one little tantrum and the whole world freaks out,” he giggled, finally succumbing and taking a long sip.

  “One little tantrum, he says,” Apogee said. “Wait until you have my hands around your throat and-“

  “Apogee,” I stopped her. “He can’t hear you.”

  She was about to snap at me, when Brutal started again.

  “They didn’t freak out enough to put me back on top of the list, though,” Brutal said. “Somehow you’re still on top. Can you believe that?”

  “Now maybe you understand,” he said. “I kill all those people, and they don’t care one bit. You kill one guy and you’re on everyone’s hit list. Pity Senator Asshole doesn’t have any more kids.”

  “Crazy sonofabitch wants to be number one on the list,” Apogee said, bewildered that Brutal could be motivated by something so banal.

  I shook my head, holding my tongue, waiting for the video to finish.

  “It’s all a sham, you know,” he said. “It’s a sick joke. Like Tennyson said, ‘Though much is taken, much abides; and though we are not now that strength which in old days moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are.’”

  He smiled, satisfied.

  “You get it, don’t you?” Brutal said. “You of all people get it.”

  Pausing the video, Apogee said, “I was a basketball player in college. Can you explain this shit to me like I’m five years old?”

  “It’s from Ulysses,” I said. “He refuses to see himself as a victim. Instead, he’s saying the only way to respond to the irony is with one thing: an unbreakable will.”

  She shook her head, not following.

  “According to him, there are worse people than him out there, worse than me, but they are fixated with making us pay. He sees it as an inequity of reputation. He means to do us both a favor and kill Ashbourne.”

  Apogee regarded me for some time before turning back to the video and letting it play.

  “Without us to fear,” Brutal went on. “People might actually start worrying about their pathetic lives, and how hard the man is screwing them in the arse.”

  He paused for a breath, his dark eyes wide.

  “Don’t you see? It’s always been that way. We were too powerful to contain, too strong to keep bottled up. Some of us were actually saying things that might damage their status quo. So we had to be put away. They had to get rid of us at any cost.”

  “Then there was the Soviet menace of the late sixties and seventies. They didn’t care about us that much then, did they? Well, except when your buddy Retcon stole the Soviet’s missiles. They turned on Retcon, Blackjack – can you believe that? Without the scary red threat, we couldn’t spend a five hundred quid on a bloody hammer could we?”

  Brutal drained his drink and waved to an off-camera waitress but wasn’t able to get her attention. Instead, he put his glass down on the table, sighing in defeat.

  “I know, I’m insane,” he said, full of giggles. “But you know what I’m saying is true. After the Soviet Union went down, we cultivated the enemy of terrorism, didn’t we? Did you know your government’s CIA were helping and training the same guy that brought down the towers? Same with Saddam Hussein – that guy was our ally until we needed a villain.�
�

  “Now it’s you, Blackjack,” he said. “Because you’re easier to control. Why do you think they let you keep the pretty girl, huh? So they can manipulate you, and now that’s how they’ll control you, with your cock, mate. Well, I’ve had enough of it.”

  The waitress passed by behind him and he saw her too late, shrugging at the lost opportunity to get a fresh drink.

  “I wanted you with me,” he said. “You of all people understand how fucked up everything is, and how there’s only one answer to the madness.”

  He stared into the camera, nodding finally.

  “I’ll see you around,” he said and the shot faded to black.

  Apogee and I stared at the dark screen for a moment, both lost in thought. I wondered if she was worried about me, worried if I was tempted by Brutal somehow. As if following that psycho was even an option just because things weren’t fair. Despite all the years and all of his experiences, it was impressive how much of a petulant child he was – and it broke my heart to think of myself in the same sorry state, during my romp in Australia. I guess it was easier to blame others for one’s mistakes and shortcomings.

  “Today is June 15th, right” I said.

  Apogee nodded.

  “Let me get that,” I gestured to the computer. I wasn’t linked to the system, so I had to use the keyboard. It took a quick web search for me to find the right Wiki page.

  “Search: “Dartmouth Incident”

  It came up, detailing the accident that led to the Original Seven traveling across time and space to a Bok globule, where they met the Lightbringers. On their return, they had powers like the ones that Apogee and I have. Today was the sixtieth anniversary of the day that altered humanity forever.

  “See?”

  Apogee pushed me aside and fast searched events taking place at the university and found that Dartmouth was celebrating the event with a huge rally on their campus lawn. They weren’t just commemorating the discovery of the supers, but also the discovery of the quantum energies they brought back with them. These energies were the focus of the Barrett Ashbourne Physics Wing, named for Senator Ashbourne’s son.

  Pulsewave.

  “That’s it,” I said, moving away, intending to get dressed.

  “Hang on,” Apogee said, and a second later, she had the Senator’s itinerary on-screen. “He’s not appearing at the event, Dale. He’s got some fundraiser at his home.”

  “What?”

  “Look,” she said, working the screen with quick swipes. She was right, according to his schedule, the Senator was slotted that entire day and night for an event at his Rockville, Maryland mansion, including hunting in the nearby woods with several big money donors to his party. He might’ve been retired from public service, but Ashbourne was still as politically active as ever.

  “Fine,” I said. “So we go there, instead.”

  I walked away and threw on some slippers.

  “Are you sure?” she said, leaving the computer, which faded back into a normal solid-light wall. “Why don’t you let me handle this one?”

  I shook my head, “Brutal’s going to hit him today. I know it.”

  “Let me go to the White Council,” she pressed. “I’ll talk to them.”

  “What’s a White Council?”

  Apogee grinned, “It’s what Superdynamic is calling it. It’s a meeting of all the bigger names. Let me go, you’re not yourself yet.”

  “White Council,” I said, fighting the urge to laugh.

  “I know,” she said, still smiling.

  I drew a pretend sword, “Lord Blackjack’s coming to see the White Council.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A pair of guards flanked the White Council’s door, unarmed, but wearing the standard issue Tower uniform, a less advanced version of the one Superdynamic had gifted to me. Theirs were blue, a little darker than mine had been, marking them as security, but they stood watch over a collection of the most powerful beings in the solar system. One of them actually smiled as I came within proximity of the door and nothing happened.

  Like the hard light hospital room, and the computer, the door didn’t recognize me as a friendly. I looked from one guy to the other, but they stood impassively as I gouged my fingers into the door deep enough to get a grip and wrenched it aside. It didn’t buckle or even bend sliding backwards on its rolling mechanism, a small grinding whir and a puff of smoke the only signs it was being forced at all.

  A chorus of hushed conversations stilled as I entered the room. I wore the gown Apogee had forced on me, with a thin white robe over it, my bare feet clomping gracelessly over the floor the only sound in the room for a second. Then, as one, the assembled group of heroes took loud exception to my presence, a thunder of voices, merging into a singular bolt of lightning meant to smite me.

  Superdynamic had spared no expense with his Tower of Babel, and this room was the central hub, the nerve center of the whole place, located just above the command center and open to the sky through a glass domed cupola that, by itself, was a marvel of engineering. The room was wide and vast, an amphitheater from the 24th century mixed with the practical utility of the UN's Security Council, with a similar open horseshoe table seating the primary members of the body and chairs radiating outward to accommodate others, stopping at a sloped wall that rose to a gallery that would fit about a hundred other spectators.

  The walls were glass panels past that, circling the whole room, allowing passersby on multiple levels to look down on where all the council's business took place. A cylindrical hard light display floated above the central horseshoe table, rotating with various readouts and video footage, including a list of the top ten villains - conspicuously missing my name. What I found interesting was the name that topped the list, Lady Jayne.

  She and Global were the only remaining members of the Original Seven. All of them returned from Shard World with abilities that challenged the imagination, and though there were thousands of us out in the world, few could boast anything approaching their level of power. Lady Jayne’s psychokinetic powers were world ending, but she showed little inclination to use them as such. All I had seen and read implied that she was motivated by loyalty to Retcon and a deep belief in what he had been trying to accomplish.

  Her only crimes, really, were being too close a friend of Dr. Retcon and being wealthy and detached. Oh, and the fact that no one alive could possibly catch her made her a potential uncontrolled menace. I laughed at the idea, having met the woman once.

  Most of the people in this room understood on one level or another that Retcon had never been interested in world domination or wealth or status. All of his madcap schemes had been efforts to protect Earth from the Lightbringers and the destruction that followed them. His methods were extreme and misguided, but understandable given the threat the Lightbringers represented. Lady Jayne had been at his side for most of those escapades, but when faced with conflict, barely scraped her full potential.

  Standing in the middle of the room, holding court, was Superdynamic. His costume concealed the top half of his face, but I could imagine the surprised look on his face when I strolled in. They were talking about Lady Jayne, the file open in the top display for all to see, including all available video of her in action in thirty second loops.

  "Hi everyone," I said, noting that a few of the heroes were activating powers, closing armor facemasks or reaching for weapons. Barefoot and dressed in a hospital gown, half the council saw me as a threat. Epic remained seated, shaking his head with a sheepish grin. Others that I knew making up the primaries were Coach, Damage, Dominus and Mirage. Damage and Dominus were on-and-off again members of Apogee's team The Revolution, Coach and Mirage I was well acquainted with. The others in the inner ring included famous heroes like Paladin, Atom Lad and Brigade – a dude I had some history with.

  The last person I recognized was none other than my old buddy Atmosphero. I was honestly impressed by his presence among the most important members of the chamber. He s
tood and summoned up his powers, about to fire a stream of lightning at me, checked by Paladin - who sat as patiently as Epic. Paladin was an old timer in the council, powerful and respected. He had little to fear from me. He was a guy in the same category of Lord Mighty and Black Razor.

  "Dale, you can't be here," Superdynamic said and I understood his reasons for using my real name. They all knew me, and if the amount of raw data displayed in Lady Jayne’s dossier was any indication, their files were extensive. I was a villain, encroaching on their secret meetings. Superdynamic was trying to defuse any potential violence by humanizing me, a tactic that had been used against me in court where the prosecutors had referred to me only as Blackjack.

  "I don't have time to explain," I said, looking around. I waved at Atmosphero.

  "Apogee," Superdynamic said, as she approached behind me. "I asked you to keep him occupied."

  "Jeff, this is serious,” I said. “You have to listen to him."

  Things escalated quickly. Superdynamic held his arms out wide, vying for quiet as several fliers took to the air. The guards from outside hurried behind me, their suits augmented by plates of hard light armor and helm giving them a whole anime mecha look that took them from unimpressive to amazing in seconds.

  "Everyone relax," I said. "I'm not here to start a fight or show off. I'm here because I know where Brutal's going to hit next."

  "Brutal?" Epic said, finally standing. "Our Intel on Brutal is that he's off convalescing after a fight with you."

  I shook my head, moving past Superdynamic. He whispered, "Not now, Dale," but I strode on.

  "I never got into a fight with him," I said, leaning on the railing. "That was my doppelganger and Haha's team. You saw them, man. Tell them."

  Epic looked at me, with the same empathetic anguish he had in the Cretaceous room. “It’s true. Mr. Haha copped to the whole thing. It wasn’t just a clone, it was some lobotomized, cloned puppet.”

  “Well, that’s convenient,” Atmosphero said. “His old team mate cloned him? What does that even mean?”

  "It means he didn't attack Banco do Brasil," Apogee said. "It means he didn't destroy the Russian pipeline, or blow up the refineries in the Arctic."