Gretchen thanked him and jogged across the maze of hoses. Shane followed her and stood behind her as she stopped by the fire chief. “Chief Mancini? I’m the Extinguisher, from Just Cause. I’ve been trying to help your crews, but my teammates are trapped inside the building, and I want to do more to help.”
Chief Mancini was a stocky, muscular Italian with a luxurious salt-and-pepper mustache and an unfiltered cigarette stuck in the corner of his mouth. “You’re the young lady who the lads said was shutting down sections of the fire, eh?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I never heard of you before.”
“I’m new. But I have powers.” She raised her hands and made a tiny bubble of vacuum appear around Mancini’s cigarette. It went out with a small popping sound.
Mancini’s bushy eyebrows rose up so high that they disappeared beneath the brim of his cap. “So that’s how it works, eh? You can put out fires?”
“Well, I can make the air around them disappear. But when I was working earlier, it seemed like every time I put a section out, it would flare up again.”
“Problem is there’s so much heat in the structure,” explained Mancini. “Ambient temperatures are high enough that stuff reignites once air is present again. What we really need is to not only smother the fire, but to draw away heat from it.”
“Hey, what if we pulled the fire away from the building? Wouldn’t that accomplish the same thing?” asked Shane.
“Who’re you?” Mancini lit a match and held it back to his cigarette.
“I’m just an assistant. She’s new. They, uh, they assigned me to her.”
“To draw the fire away, you’d need some kind of powerful draft, and then you’d risk igniting something else. Bad idea, kid.”
“What if I pulled it straight up?” asked Gretchen. “There’s nothing up there to burn. Wouldn’t it just kind of stop?”
“It might,” said the chief. “So long as we could get the building itself cooled down quickly enough. I get what you’re thinking. Create a vacuum over the building and the fire gets pulled up to it, right?”
“Something like that,” said Gretchen.
“How big a pocket can you create?”
Gretchen chewed on a knuckle, hesitating. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I’m really wiped out, but I’m willing to try anything.” An idea occurred to her. “I work best when I’m kind of upset or panicked. Scared.”
Mancini raised an eyebrow. “If you’re not scared of this fire, you should be.”
“What about drugs?” asked Shane. “Like a powerful stimulant or something?”
“Come with me.” Mancini led them to a rescue truck. He requisitioned a syringe from the kit and showed it to Gretchen. “Adrenaline. This’ll kick in your fight-or-flight response. Think that’ll do it? I’m against the idea, but this fire’s kicking our asses and I don’t have high hopes for your friends stuck inside.”
Gretchen nodded. She looked up at the burning building. She was going to save Pony Girl with whatever it took. She pulled her collar down to show a thin arm to Mancini. He hollered for a paramedic, who ran over.
“Inject her with this, on my authority,” he ordered the medic.
The medic swabbed her arm, knocked the bubbles free of the syringe, and injected the dose.
It only took a few seconds. Gretchen’s heart started hammering. She felt like everything was moving too slow and she was too fast in it. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. “Hold me up!” she hissed to Shane. “I can’t… breathe …”
As red tinged her vision, Gretchen raised her arms. Her hands fluttered at the ends of them like imprisoned birds. A murky, shadowy void started to form in the smoky haze over the building. The power danced in her mind, eager to show itself off. Firefighters paused to watch the strange shape as it grew larger.
“Going to be loud,” said Gretchen.
“Jesus, she’s right,” said Shane. “Like the worst thunder ever.”
Mancini got out his bullhorn. “Cover your ears, everyone,” he ordered. “All hoses to full pressure. Get ready to soak this beast.”
“I can’t hold it anymore!”
The void imploded. A wallop of sound shattered windows all around. Wind blasted past them, knocking over men and any equipment not tied down. Gretchen felt like she’d been punched in the chest and head simultaneously, and staggered to her knees. She didn’t know where Shane had gone. But as she watched, the fire spiraled upward from the building along with the wind as it filled the vacuum she’d created. Firemen struggled to gain ground in the momentary advantage she’d created for them. She didn’t care if she saved or destroyed the building, just that Pony Girl and Lionheart would have a chance to get out alive.
The power spent at last, Gretchen succumbed to exhaustion, and collapsed.
Chapter Twenty
July 14, 1977, 4:00 AM
Faith and Lionheart huddled together in exhaustion. The shaft was growing hotter and hotter and breathing had become difficult. They’d dressed again, because as Faith had said, whether they were rescued or not, it would be better to preserve their dignity.
Sweat matted Lionheart’s fur and soaked Faith’s costume. The temperature seemed to climb another dozen degrees every couple of minutes. The water running down the shaft was evaporating quickly and it felt like being inside a sauna.
“Rick,” said Faith. “Thank you.”
“Likewise,” he hissed, his tongue lolling out as he tried to cool himself down. “At least now we know.”
“Maybe if things were different.”
“I know. I understand.”
Faith wanted to say something else, but the loudest noise she’d ever heard drove all thoughts from her mind. It was like an explosion multiplied by thunder. If she’d stuck her head inside a jet engine, it would only begin to compare to the decibel level. Too late, she and Lionheart clapped their hands to their ears. The elevator shaft quivered around them and the light from the fire went out as a terrifically powerful wind roared through the shaft.
With a bang and a whistle, one of the elevator cables snapped and Faith avoided its fall only by her superspeed reflexes. Her ears ringing, she groped for Lionheart in the darkness. She found his hand and clutched it. The shaft was still sweltering hot, but now a stream of cooler air brushed past her face.
“Are you all right?” She had to scream just to hear her own voice.
“Yes. Are you?” roared Lionheart.
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“It must have been Gretchen,” Faith said.
A rhythmic pounding came from somewhere over their heads. Lionheart picked up a piece of fallen debris and banged it against the wall of the shaft in response.
For a few minutes, Faith and Lionheart sat in tense silence. Then overhead they saw a shower of sparks and heard the shriek of metal upon metal. In a moment, a powerful flashlight beam stabbed down the shaft. “Pony Girl, Lionheart, are you all right?”
“Yes,” called Lionheart. “Get us out of here.”
The firefighters lowered down a sling on a rope. “You go first,” Lionheart said.
Faith was too tired to argue, so she sat herself in the sling and called for them to raise her. The ascent seemed interminable, but at last the strong hands of two young firemen pulled her safely into the basket of a ladder truck, parked far below.
They insisted upon her waiting in the basket while they pulled Lionheart from the shaft. As she leaned against the railing, she looked down at the building below. It still burned, but the fire was much less severe than when she’d first arrived, and the fire crews seemed to be winning the war.
In a few minutes, Lionheart joined her in the basket and the firemen lowered the ladder so they could reach the ground. Faith felt like falling to her knees and kissing the pavement as she stepped from the basket. Instead, she was almost bowled over by a crying Gretchen.
“I’m so happy you’re all right,” cried Gretchen. “I was so wor
ried.”
“Miss, I really think you ought to be resting,” a paramedic said to the young woman.
“I know, I will.”
More paramedics escorted Faith and Lionheart back with Gretchen to the temporary triage station they’d established across the street. They began to check over the recently rescued heroes.
“I understand we have you to thank for our still being alive,” said Lionheart to Gretchen. “Thank you very much. I never thought I’d appreciate breathing the air of New York City as much as I do right now.”
Gretchen fidgeted where she sat. After being dosed with a signifcant amount of adrenaline, she was suffering the aftereffects. “I’m just glad you guys are all right.”
“Well, I’m going to personally testify on your behalf,” said Lionheart. “You deserve more than fair consideration for your actions tonight.” He growled at the paramedic poking and prodding him.
The medic went white as a sheet. “I think you’re going to need x-rays,” he said. “I don’t like the way your ankle is swelling, and you may have a broken rib. Maybe two.”
“A broken rib?” Faith whirled to face Lionheart. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He smiled weakly. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“You asshole.”
“My hero,” he shot back.
“Pony Girl, Lionheart, or, uh, Extinguisher come in,” said Bobby over Gretchen’s radio. Faith and Lionheart had lost theirs in the elevator shaft.
Gretchen handed the radio to Faith. “Audio, it’s me. We’re all alive and okay, although Lionheart is going to need a trip to the hospital.”
“Listen, the Feds took the Washington kid. They got a judge to sign off on it.”
“Jesus, where did they find one at this time of night?”
“I don’t know, but I think they will come after Gretchen next. I overheard them talking about it. And she hasn’t exactly kept a low profile.”
Faith looked over at Gretchen, who was yawning. “No, I guess she hasn’t. Lucky for Lionheart and me though.”
“I think you’d better get her back here pretty quick. Imp is back here safe and sound with her sister. Tornado went to go meet John Stone. Javelin’s running on emergency power but he’s going to see if he can spot the Feds in the area before heading in for a recharge.”
“Understood. Pony Girl out.” She turned to the paramedic. “You going to clear me and her to leave?”
The medic nodded. “There’s really nothing wrong with you that a good solid twelve hours of sleep won’t cure.”
“Lionheart.” Faith didn’t know what else to say.
He smiled. “Go. I’ll give ’em hell at the hospital.”
Faith stood and motioned to Gretchen and Shane. “Let’s go, you two.”
#
Agent Stull shifted the car back into Park. He’d placed it where it would be in shadow as the sun rose. The sky was already brightening to the east. They overlooked the plaza in front of the World Trade Center where they could potentially spot Gretchen on her return to Just Cause headquarters.
“What if she doesn’t come back?” asked Harlan.
“Then my hunch is wrong,” said Simmons. “But I got a feeling we’ll see her pretty soon.”
The agents got out of the car. Since he wasn’t cuffed or anything, Harlan got out too. These were his new friends; he didn’t even consider running from them. Stull opened the trunk and removed a long case. The simple black shell with non-reflective hinges and hasp made Harlan feel all shivery inside.
“What are you going to do?” he whispered.
“Deal with a parahuman murderer,” said Stull. “What do you think?” he asked Simmons.
Simmons pointed to a nearby building of only six stories. “That one,” he said without hesitation. “Good angle, clear field of fire.”
“Wait, you’re going to kill her?” Harlan asked.
Neither agent replied. Stull took a set of two-way radios from the trunk and handed one to Simmons.
“Well, I’m okay with that,” Harlan said. “I hate parahumans too.” He caught a gleam in the sky and realized they weren’t alone. “Give me your keys,” he whispered to Stull.
“What? Are you out of your mind?”
“Trust me,” hissed Harlan. “Trouble’s coming.”
Stull looked at Simmons, who shrugged. “He’s sharp,” said Simmons. “And you don’t need the keys up on the rooftop.”
Stull handed Harlan the keys. Harlan slipped inside the car and hunkered down in the footwell, taking out his Swiss Army knife and beginning to work on the car’s wiring.
With a roar and hot flash of plasma jets, Javelin dropped to the cement by the car. Stull was caught with his hands full but Simmons’ gun appeared in his hands like magic. “Hold it right there, hero.”
“What’s going on, guys?” asked Javelin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s got a sniper rifle in that case, and I can’t imagine what you might intend to do with one of them. Surely nothing bad, right?”
“Fly away, Javelin. This isn’t your problem.” Simmons pointed at him.
Javelin’s voice sounded like he was grinning behind his helmet visor. “I’m making it my problem. You guys got who you wanted, now get lost already.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” said Simmons. “We didn’t yet get who we came for. Now you’re interfering with a federal investigation. You think you’re above the law?”
Harlan worked at a feverish pace, isolating current to one wire and feeding it through the firewall. He’d only get one chance at this, and wasn’t sure it would work. Javelin had been flying around a lot and certainly hadn’t had time or opportunity to recharge his batteries with the blackout. He must be on reserve power, Harlan reasoned. The Feds wouldn’t know that, but to Harlan it meant an opportunity.
He intended to exploit it.
“No, I’m not above the law. And neither are you fascist pukes,” said Javelin.
Harlan heard a gun being cocked. “Last chance, spic,” said Simmons.
Javelin’s voice grew cold. “I hate that term, asshole.”
“I will fire upon you, I’m warning you.”
“Your peashooter can’t get through this armor.”
“You’re not armored everywhere, spic. Spic spic spickety spic.”
Javelin growled. “That’s it!”
Harlan twisted the final connection and sat up so he could see. He jammed the key into the ignition, and cranked the starter. The engine turned over once and died, killing itself to fulfill its redesigned mission. A bright light flashed from the front of the car and sparks shot from all over Javelin’s armor.
“Motherfucker!” Javelin yelled. He fumbled with his helmet and tore it off.
Simmons stepped forward and smashed Javelin across the jaw with the butt of his gun. The hero dropped like he’d been shot.
“What the fuck did you do?” Stull stared into the window at Harlan.
“I shorted out his armor by turning the engine into a magnetic pulse generator,” said Harlan. “It only worked once, but that ought to be enough.”
“You what?”
“I knocked out his armor. Your car ain’t going to be no good now though.” Harlan shrugged. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right,” said Simmons as he approached. “We can always get a replacement. We’re government. Nice work, kid.”
Harlan swelled with pride. “So what do we do with him?”
“He isn’t shit without his armor,” said Simmons. “Strip him, bind him, gag him, lock him in the trunk.” The two agents proceeded to do exactly that after removing the rest of their gear from the trunk. Harlan watched in glee as they dumped Javelin and shut the lid. These agents did things Harlan would love to do, and they had permission because they worked for the government.
“So what do we do now?” Harlan imagined himself in a suit like that. With a gun. Powerful.
“We stick with the plan,” said Simmons. “Joe gets up on the roo
f. I take cover. You wait here. When the Just Cause types show up, you try to get Gretchen away from them.”
“How do I do that?”
“Fuck, kid, you said you knew her. Think of something. Just get her clear from the others and leave the rest to us.”
“Okay.” Harlan wasn’t worried; he knew he’d think of something.
After all, he was brilliant that way.
#
The sun was still below the ocean horizon, but the eastern sky was beginning to turn creamy orange. John was a gray shadow against the lightening street as Tommy circled and descended beside him.
“Hey,” said John.
“How was it here?” asked Tommy.
“Crazy in the subways. Several were stuck between stations. I had to wrench doors open and lead people through the tunnels. I went through all my flashlight batteries. What’s been going on that’s so terrible up here in the surface world?”
“Bad things. Rioting and fires. Irlene’s little brother is some kind of techno-engineering genius. He built this giant walking tank thing and took it to the streets, burning buildings and tearing things up. He hurt Gloria and seriously damaged the Soldier before we got him.”
“Jesus Christ,” murmured John. “He’s how old?”
“Thirteen. Can you believe that? He kidnapped his youngest sister and may possibly have murdered his mother too.”
“Oh no. Please tell me he’s in custody.”
“He is, but not ours. The Feds chasing Gretchen Gumm claimed custody.”
John shook his head. “NYPD won’t like that.”
“Listen, I’ve been trying all night to go check on someone. That girl whose life I saved earlier was supposed to meet us at the game. Since she didn’t, I really want to go make sure she’s all right.”
John nodded. “Things seem to have calmed down somewhat. I expect people will go crazy again in a couple hours after the sun is up.”
Just Cause Universe 3: Day of the Destroyer Page 26
