by Tom Andry
I circled the SUV and peered into the opening. It was deeper than I suspected. The train tracks actually descended far into the earth and terminated at huge, fifteen foot tall, double doors. Parked in front of the doors, noses toward me were two more black SUVs identical to the one I'd already examined.
Crap. This was a lot more than I had expected.
I looked down for Nineteen but she wasn't at my side. I circled the SUVs and found her sitting on the ground, listless and barely responsive to my frantic whispers. At least her eyes were open. I was almost out of time. I had to find Ted and the others. I picked her up and crossed to the right side of the opening. I ran my hand along the cut stone. If what Mind said was true, there would be...
An audible click greeted me as I found the small latch. It was invisible to the eye and I never would have found it without Mind's specific instructions. I wiped the sweat from my brow, replaced my hat, and slowly pushed on the stone. It was easier than I’d expected, especially considering how long it'd probably been since this particular door had been opened. It slid open with only the slightest grating of sand, still audible in the quiet night air. I held my breath, happy there were no additional creaks or squeaks, not so much as a groan from the hinges.
Inside was a small antechamber. The walls were green and there was a large mirror to my right. I turned and pushed the door closed behind me with my back, noting the lack of handle. Across from me was another door without a handle. The room wasn't large to begin with, but the complete lack of light was claustrophobic. I clutched Nineteen tighter, her breathing regular and quick. We waited in the dark.
We waited.
And waited.
After what seemed like an eternity, the room was flooded with light. I put a hand in front of my face at first, the light far too bright for my night-adjusted eyes. In the glaring light, the mirror was revealed to be, in reality, a window. Through the window, I could see a desk or some sort of panel with two microphones on thin, adjustable poles in front of two raised chairs. No one sat in the room. Behind the chairs were devices with lights, reels, and spools with paper. Everything was covered in dust and dotted with blinking lights. A mist started to fall through grates near the ceiling. It smelled of vanilla and ancient water - like an old heater that hadn't been turned on all year. A few long minutes later, the mist stopped and the door in front of us clicked. A small crack appeared. I jammed a few fingertips into the crack and pulled the door toward us.
Apparently, this part of the missile base hadn't been reopened by the supers as everything had a thick layer of dust on it. That was good for us. It meant that our entry would be unnoticed. It also meant that we weren't anywhere near where they expected the battle to take place. The downside was that we very well may have a lot of walking to do.
I glanced down at Nineteen. Sweat had beaded up on her forehead and her eyes were flickering closed. Next to me, a phone rang sharply. I jumped.
"Hello?"
"You have to hurry. I'm keeping the henchmen busy, but I don't have control of all the systems." Mind's voice was all business, "They are searching for technology and I can misdirect them when they access the computers, but not their physical searches."
"What about The Raven?"
"No sign of him yet. Though he's destroyed many of the satellites."
"Satellites?"
"Space-based devices the Super State uses for monitoring."
"Space-based? What the hell? How come I never heard of anything like that?"
"That's Level 5 clearance information. Very few know about them. I'm monitoring the area as best I can."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Do you want to go down twelve floors to the security level and boot up the rest of the security systems?"
I looked down at Nineteen. Her eyes were open again, but it was hard to know how alert she was without an iris to look at. "I don't think she has much time."
"There is a stairway at the end of the hall. Take it down three levels and then enter the door. Take an immediate left. You'll be in a large room full of cubicles. After the second hallway, make a right. Head to the end. I'll make sure the hatch will be open for you. It'll lead to a long hallway that will lead you to one of the upper levels of the launch tube. That's where the supers are gathered. The henchmen have spread out looking for weapon stashes I've added to the maps. I think they are starting to get suspicious though, so stay alert."
"Fine. Got it. But I need one more thing."
"Yes?"
"Ice."
* * *
I pressed the tea towel full of ice on Nineteen's forehead as I crouched down next to the circular hatch that led, presumably, to the actual missile launch tube. I needed to keep a low profile and the dripping from the ice wasn't helping. Nineteen had stirred when I put the ice on and now looked at me with half-closed eyes. I gulped back my worry and reached up and tried again the circular wheel that would open the hatch, much like those on a submarine. It was a strange door to have in the middle of a sea of cubicles. On either side, there was extra space, as if there were once guards that would have been stationed to protect the hatch. I could imagine how it might have looked with actuaries and accountants working side-by-side with armed guards.
"Damn it, Mind, where are you?" I whispered. It had said that it would have the door open. Or at least unlocked. I glanced around. There were phones all over. If it wanted to, it could call me. This level was also bathed in emergency lights, so maybe it couldn't access the hatch? No, that didn't seem right. It hadn't had a problem when we entered. Maybe I went to the wrong level when I made the detour for the ice?
"Damn," I cursed again and shifted the ice to the back of Nineteen's neck. I looked down at the girl, "How you feeling? Better?"
She smiled weakly. I smiled back, visibly relieved. All she had to do was hold on. Hold on until The Raven got here, was defeated, and Ted could fix her.
Was that all?
I looked around again. Tried the door. Nothing. Crap.
I stood and started down the long aisle of cubicles with walls barely higher than my waist. I must have gone to the wrong floor. I would have to backtrack to the original floor and then check. Worst case, Mind could call me again and tell me what the hell went wrong. And where the hell was The Raven?
I shook my head at myself. Wishing for The Raven? Where had my life gotten so messed up that I was hoping to find the most powerful, most psychotic super on the planet?
It was a click. Just a click. But in a room this size with this little in it, so little background noise, it carried like a gunshot. I froze, Nineteen still cradled in my arms, water from the melted ice running off her neck, down my arm, and pooling in the elbow of my jacket. Across the room to the left, by the door where I'd entered but could now barely see, I saw a couple of moving points of blackness. Forms that moved silently, but couldn't hide that they were walking in front of the lights. Was it the supers or Siddeon's henchmen? I glanced back at the round hatch, now three cubicles away. I wanted to know but I couldn't chance being seen. I ducked into the nearest cubicle and pushed close to the wall, making as little noise as possible. Nineteen was looking up at me, brow furrowed. I shook my head and put a finger over my lips. I hoped she understood more than to just be quiet.
I waited in the dark, trying not to move or make any noise. The ice in my hand continued to melt and I wished I had put it down. The last thing I needed was for it to start popping as whoever it was came near. Finally, a figure came into view, mirroring my original path. It was dressed in all black with a large belt, combat boots and a huge gun. The figure passed with three more following in short order. They wore some sort of goggles with small lenses on one eye and black hoods that covered most of their faces. One of them was holding a glowing device. They made surprisingly little noise as they walked. A moment later and I heard them checking the door I'd just left. The one that Mind was supposed to have opened.
"Fuck!" a man cursed softly. "Locked."
My eyes tightened as a wave of red clouded my vision. The henchmen. A group of four supers wouldn't have had problems opening doors. I kept my breathing soft but my hand ached to pull the plastic box free. It sounded like they were all together near the door. If I threw it and it broke, could I get them all? Might it even kill them? Where the hell was The Raven? These guys were supposed to be the distraction.
A woman, her voice commanding and strong, "According to these maps, there is either a missile launch tube or a huge weapons locker behind here."
"Shit," the same man.
A third voice, deeper, "Which is the newest map?"
"Weapons locker."
A fourth voice, gravely and hoarse, "I am displeased with our progress."
Shuffling feet, the first man, his voice only slightly shaking, "It's not our fault. The maps. They contradict each other."
"I am aware of that,” the hoarse man growled. “You should know that excuses are not accepted in this organization."
The first man again, "I know, I know. But..."
A sound like a camera flash warming up.
"Wait! No..."
A soft pop followed by a sound that resembled a heavy sack of laundry crumpling to the ground.
The hoarse man again, "Take his equipment and toss his body in the cubicle over there. And you, I'll not be outdone by the other groups. Find me something we can use. I'm starting to get…frustrated."
In my hand, the ice moved. As I listened, I had been unwittingly tightening my grip on the ice and it was finally too much. It was a small sound, but just as the door all the way across the room was clearly audible to me, the clink of ice against ice sounded like a crack of thunder to my ears. I froze again, not daring to breathe. I waited for the henchmen to continue their conversation, but was greeted only with a sharp creak of leather and then footsteps coming my way.
Damn. As much as I wanted to make these monsters pay for what they'd done to Liz, I couldn't take three on at once.
Or could I?
I looked down at Nineteen. Her eyes were wide and I could see a halo of blue around a light gray iris. Whatever she was doing, it was minor, supposing that the intensity of her returning eye color was a gauge. Which, of course, I couldn't really know. But, with her, I had hope. Hope that they wouldn't see me and I could take advantage. I reached slowly back toward my pocket, but stopped when I felt, more than heard, the fabric rubbing.
Shit.
I wanted to arm myself. Or maybe to push back, to move deeper into the cubicle for a bit more cover, but I didn't dare. If the ice moved again or if I ran into something, it would be all over. They'd have me. I couldn't even risk turning on my Inertial Dampener for fear the click of the switch would give away my position. Either Nineteen would have to protect us while I fought or we'd have to make a run for it. Whatever guns they were carrying didn't sound like projectiles that could be stopped by my Inertial Dampener anyhow. They sounded like some sort of energy. And that meant that all I had for protection was my clothing. They were treated to resist lots of forms of energy, but resistant, as Ted was fond of pointing out, was not impervious. A normal fire, snow, sticking my finger into an outlet...no problem. But when supers started to throw around fire, ice blasts, and lightning bolts, it was a risky proposition. That weapon, whatever it was, would probably tear through my jacket eventually, even if the clothes slowed it. And I'd tear along with it.
I braced myself. When they passed, I was either going to have to fight or run. I placed my hand as far into my pocket as I dared. The plastic box would make as good a distraction as a weapon. I had to choose my moment carefully. They were walking directly toward me; if I gave them the opportunity, they'd cut me down. Henchmen were a lot of things, but they were rarely bad shots.
A foot appeared in front of the cubicle opening, followed by another. A moment later and two more joined the first pair. Two of the henchmen stepped into view, their guns held at the ready. They swept their guns back and forth, scanning in front and to the side. I tensed, ready to set Nineteen to the side and grab the plastic box. If they lined up, maybe I could tackle the henchman closest to me and push him into the other and into the cubicle on the far side of the aisle. Then I could use the box on both. Or all three. If not, I could use the confusion to lead them away from Nineteen and toward the supers.
Or better yet, The Raven. He’d make short work of these assholes.
Just as I was ready to act, Nineteen touched my face. It jarred me. It broke my concentration. The henchman, I couldn't tell in the dark and in their outfits which one, turned his or her gun toward me. I stared up at the gun, waiting. I'd finally done it. After all these years of making it out of tough situations with supers, some henchman was going to take me out. I supposed it was fitting. Killed by a tippy, trying to save a super. Gale would never understand.
Gale. Wendi. I wished...What did I wish? Did I wish for our daughter, alive and well? Did I wish for Gale to meet Nineteen? Did I wish for one more night with my ex-wife? No. In a flash, I realized that all I wished was to go back. When Abigail was taken from us, stolen really, life had stopped. Gale had moved on, had done what she needed to do to heal and forget. But not me. I'd never moved. I still wanted her back, our life, our family. I still wanted to be back the way we were. The way our lives would have been.
An idealized life. My super wife, our special child, a house in the suburbs. She'd fly off to save the world and I'd...what? House dad? Kept man? The funny thing was; I didn't see myself in that picture. I saw Gale. I saw Abigail. But not me. The house, the white fence, the smiling family...and me? I was a ghost floating above it all. Watching it like I was some sort of spectral peeping Tom.
So what did I want? I had no idea and no time to figure it out. The figure in the goggles was pointing the gun directly at my face and I'd focused my eyes on the tip. Shorter than a normal rifle, but bulkier and much more elaborate with dials and switches and a clip two times the length of my hand, the gun looked like something a kid would draw a picture of during detention. The barrel was triangular in shape and had some sort of venting slits near the end on all three sides. And glowing. The tip was definitely glowing faintly. I started to raise my free hand as the gunman swept the gun away from me.
My eyes shot down. Nineteen's eyes were only slightly bluer than before. Either my theory that the exertion of her power was connected to the intensity of her eye color was wrong or masking us from the henchman took very little effort. I exhaled, relieved and scared, my heart pounding in my ears. I swallowed, smiling weakly at Nineteen. She smiled back and then closed her eyes.
I nearly jumped as a muffled crash came from the far side of the room. It sounded far away, as if someone had slammed a door at a house across the street. Three distinct weapon clicks responded as one - two to my left from the henchmen who had passed and one to my right. I looked back down to Nineteen, her eyes still closed. I looked up and a tall figure, gun extended, stepped into view. It turned slowly and pointed its gun directly at me.
"Ah, there you are!" the hoarse voice whispered.
I started, again, to raise my hand, attempting to rouse Nineteen as I did. Her eyes didn't open. I raised my eyes to the man, my jaw clenched. The sound of a flash on a camera warming up rang out again as the orange glow on the tip of the gun became white hot. Under the figure's elastic mask, I could see his mouth stretch into a smile.
"Do you know what the difference is between a henchman and a super villain?" the man asked.
I shook my head, my jaw tight.
"We're not so stupid as to take prisoners. A super - they'll take you back to their base, they'll tell you all their plans, and then they'll give you all the time in the world to figure out a way to escape. Siddeon taught us many things. The first of which is that a dead enemy can never hurt you."
"Is that so?" I lowered my hand slowly, trying not to look like I was reaching for my pocket.
"Yep," the figure sneered. "I could take you, try to get you to tell us where the weapon
s are, but you know what? We don't need you. And even if we did, you'd save us a few minutes, hours even. But by the sounds of that?" He nodded over his shoulder toward the door from which we all entered, "My compatriots just blew the door off a weapon's cache. That means we're already getting what we came here for."
"Is that what you think that was?" I hissed. My voice almost shook.
The figure scowled at me. Over his shoulder, another bang, this one considerably louder and closer. It rattled the walls, shaking a fine mist of dust from the ceiling.
"Of course," the hoarse voice sounded unsure, "they're blasting into the rooms now. Just like we're about to do to that door." The figure lowered its gun slightly, "Why? What do you think it is?"
A third bang, this one close enough to shake the cubicle walls. I waited a moment, trying to time my statement. "Him!" I half-shouted, triumphant.
Nothing. No bang, no big entrance.
Supers - never there when you need them.
"Heh," the henchman laughed, "you almost had me there." He raised his gun again.
"Yeah, well," I stalled, watching the henchman for any sign of distraction, "Siddeon should have taught you about monologuing."
The henchman seemed to roll his eyes behind his goggles, "Oh, don't get me started on monologuing. The boss could talk!"
The explosion took down most of the cubicle walls at the far end of the room. There was no fire involved that I could see, but the sound of it nearly ruptured my eardrums. The henchman's shot went wide as he jerked on the trigger in time with the blast. I shot forward, Nineteen still in my arms, shouldering the henchman into the opposite cubicle. The henchman went down hard, gun flailing over his head.
"Kill him!" the henchman screamed as he fell. I was fortunate that the others had a more obvious target.
My vision went red. This man may have been the one to set the fire in Liz's office. In my mind, he was. Nineteen tumbled from my arms, momentarily forgotten. I jumped on the prone henchman, beating on him with the bottom of my fists, curses and spittle showering the man. The henchman raised his arms, but it was too late, I'd knocked his goggles askew, effectively blinding him. He flailed back, ineffectively at first, trying to protect himself and attack simultaneously. After a few moments, he succeeded in landing a shot to my cheek, sending sparks across my vision. I pulled back, stunned.
