The Prospects (Book 2): Nothing Poorer Than Gods

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The Prospects (Book 2): Nothing Poorer Than Gods Page 7

by Daniel Halayko


  “What’s yer plan?”

  “Slick Shadow knows it. Follow his lead.”

  “Ah would if that slimy wog would show …”

  Puca didn’t notice the rubber-boned oily creature crab-walking across the roof feet until it stood in front of her and smiled menacingly.

  “Never mind,” said Puca. “He’s here and grinnin’ like a dead hare.”

  “Malone has the supplies,” said Slick Shadow. “You need to get in range for your helmet’s audio amplifiers. I’ll stay close. The Handler has it all worked out.”

  The Handler said, “Damn right I do. When all is done, we’ll be back in the shadows.”

  Alex checked his phone twice as he walked out of Legal Sea Foods.

  Trista said, “That won’t make Agent Breugnon call you back any faster.”

  “I know, but it makes me feel like I’m doing something. How do you like Boston?”

  “It’s smaller than I thought it would be. Can we visit Harvard?”

  “No, we’re going to where Wykedblade died and then straight to the chopper. You can visit Harvard on your own time.”

  Trista rubbed her stomach. “I always wanted to travel, but with the baby I won’t be able to. Every now and then it hits me that I’m going to be a mother.”

  “I went through that when Emily told me she was pregnant. I had that ‘Arms Wide Open’ song stuck in my head for days.”

  “What song?”

  “Forget it. Creed sucks.”

  “I’m not ready for this. I don’t have a job or an education or my own place to live. All I have is a criminal record.”

  “I know how the Catholic Church feels about abortion but, given what happened, you might get an exception.”

  “No. I put it to Father Monaghan in a hypothetical situation. At this point, it’s God’s will. Killing the baby would be a sin. But I can’t help thinking bringing it into the world could lead to more sins.”

  “I’m the wrong guy to ask. I’ve killed more people than the average supervillain.”

  “That’s different. For you, it’s jus ad bellum.”

  “Just add what?”

  “Latin for ‘right to war,’ the idea that violence can be acceptable. You fit the criteria. You’re a member of a government agency, you only fight to re-establish peace, and you don’t resort to violence until it’s necessary.”

  “Why do you know that?”

  “I read some church doctrine with you in mind.”

  “I’m not a religious guy.”

  “Pope Francis says even atheists can go to heaven if they do good things. You’ve saved far more lives than you’ve taken. I’m sure you’re more likely to go to heaven than me, and I wouldn’t want to go there without you, Alex.”

  Trista’s hand brushed his.

  Alex jerked his hand away and faced Trista.

  “We have to talk about our relationship.”

  “Here? On the sidewalk?”

  “It’s this simple. I love Emily. When she dies, I go where she goes.”

  “Did you think … no, I didn’t mean ...”

  “We need some distance. You can’t call me at home, you can’t sleep on my shoulder during late-night missions, and you can’t call me Alex. To you, I’m Agent O’Farrell.”

  “You let Jenny call you Alex.”

  “Jenny is an official New York Guardian. She’s an equal. I’m your trainer since you’re still a Prospect.”

  “I thought we were friends.”

  “When I met you, you had no one on your side but Charlene. Now you’re back in touch with your family, your new teammates like you, Chaplain Monaghan is your personal spiritual advisor, and you’re in therapy. You have a more active social life than I do.”

  “You said you would stay with me through everything.”

  “But I want to get you to the point where you’re strong enough so you don’t need my help anymore.”

  On the roof across the street, Puca caught every word of the conversation through her helmet’s enhanced parabolic hearing receptors.

  “Bloody hell, ya git. Don’t kill her before we get a chance.”

  Several block away, Trista looked at the walls of the garbage-strewn alleyway. “Why are we here?”

  Alex looked at the crime scene report on his smartphone. “This is the place where Wyckedblade lost his last fight. Forensic investigators found blood splattered all over the walls. It must’ve been nasty.”

  Trista shrugged. “I’m not getting anything. The streets outside looked like somewhere I’ve been before, I got a weird craving for oregano from that pizza place up the street and a real nasty vibe from the abandoned house two blocks away, but this is the most unfamiliar place I’ve seen so far.”

  “So his mind must have been transferred before he died. It’d be hard to forget being brutally murdered.”

  “Is there an autopsy report?”

  Alex flicked his smartphone’s screen. “Agent Breugnon didn’t upload them. Pretty sloppy work. I always scan all documents related to investigations.”

  “What’s next?”

  Alex looked at his smartphone’s clock. “I’ll get in touch with Agent Breugnon tomorrow. If we head to the chopper now, I can be home in time for dinner.”

  Several hours later, on the roof across the street from the Hilton Boston Downtown, Puca asked, “You know what I hate about this line of work?”

  Slick Shadow took a solid form. “Watching people dine at fancy restaurants while we starve?”

  “All that and yeah, but what really gets me is the lack o’ recognition. We got to rub out a superhero and make it look like no one did it.”

  Slick Shadow’s crooked mouth parted. “Would you rather be at sea killing the real famous ones?”

  “God no. Nothing’s worth puttin’ up with Doctor Hellgrun’s slimy monsters. Let them do the dirty work. Love to see how the Handler covers that one up.”

  The tinny voice in her earpiece said, “I have it all worked out.”

  “Oi! You’re listenin’ to me?”

  “You can’t turn your helmet’s ears off. I heard every word you heard, including Agent O’Farrell’s painful dinner conversation with the girl.”

  Inside the hotel’s restaurant, Trista absent-mindedly twirled linguini noodles around her fork.

  Alex said, “You don’t like Boston’s Italian food?”

  “I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  “If this is about earlier, I need to fix my relationship with Emily, and your name came up in marriage counseling.”

  “No, it’s … wait, my name came up?”

  “If your husband got calls from another woman every night, would you like that?”

  “I’ll stop calling.”

  “And apparently I said your name in my sleep.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “I don’t know, I don’t remember my dreams. It doesn’t help that I’m with you for the second night in a row instead of back at home.”

  “The helicopter’s engine malfunctioned. These things happen.”

  “I need to spend more time with my family. But you didn’t tell me why you’re not eating.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about Candilyn.”

  “She’s not our problem.”

  “She won’t do well in prison.”

  “You did. No offense, but she’s tougher than you”

  “I was a part of a gang, I respected the correctional officers and the powerful inmates, and I avoided fights. Candilyn is going in alone, has no respect for anyone, and always gets in fights.”

  “You were in a gang?”

  “I was an Ultra-Genius. We watched each other’s backs. If not for them, prison would’ve been hell.”

  “Candilyn has a healing factor. She’ll survive any beating she gets.”

  “Years of abuse will make her evil.”

  Alex finished his steak. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  “I want you to do for her what you did for me.”


  “I didn’t know what to do for you, which is why I called in Chaplain Monaghan and a therapist. Given the way Candilyn treated the martial arts experts I brought in to train her, I don’t expect much cooperation.”

  “You made me believe I could be saved. No one ever did that for Candilyn.”

  “You’re a better person than she is, even with a worse criminal record. You didn’t act of your own free will and you still faced the consequences. Candilyn did what she did of her own volition. If she commits any more crimes, that’s on me.”

  “Jail will make her more likely to commit crimes.”

  “I’ll arrest her when she does.”

  “Is there anything we can do for her?”

  “No. End of conversation. We have too many other things to worry about.”

  In the hotel lobby, Malone looked comical with his muscular bulk crammed into a Boston Celtics jacket two sizes too small, but years of experience as a commando and a bodyguard taught him how to blend in. As he held a plastic grocery story bag, families and businessmen walked past him as if he were a piece of furniture. So did Alex and Trista.

  He looked at his phone’s text message. Puca listened when the front desk gave Alex and Trista their cards and sent out their room numbers to the rest of the team.

  Slick Shadow turned himself into a thick liquid and flowed through the hotel’s narrow ventilation system. He kept pace with Trista and Alex but stopped above the hallway to their rooms.

  Alex opened the door to his room. Trista peeked in.

  “You have two beds?”

  “I asked for one. Your room is next door.”

  “Wait. Can we share a room?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “I understand you want more distance, but I have a hard time sleeping with no one else around. Every sound I can’t pin on someone else reminds me of Sergeant Hammer coming into my room at Griffin Tower. I mean, Kayleigh spent last weekend at her parents’ house, and I watched movies for two nights in a row.”

  “I don’t have a change of clothes, and I’m not sleeping in these suit pants. Good night.” Alex closed the door.

  After midnight, Puca appeared in the ice room with an echoing pop and Malone by her side. Slick Shadow poured in through the overhead air condition duct and reformed his body.

  “Dat’s what I mean by boredom,” whispered Puca as she met with Slick Shadow and Malone. “Four soddin’ hours waitin’ for them to go to sleep.”

  Malone handed her the grocery bag.

  Puca pulled out a clear bag full of cloudy fluid. “Slick, hold dis.”

  Slick Shadow look inside the shopping bag. “Let’s see, empty vodka bottle, empty bottle of sleeping pills, and suicide note in forged handwriting. I still say I should take care of the girl. She couldn’t escape my black hole psychic defense technique last time.”

  “You’d slash her to pieces. Less blood Flayer cleans up, less piss da Handler takes out of us. And Malone can handle a wee lass.” Puca handed Malone a circuit-covered keycard. “You first.”

  Malone put the keycard in Trista’s door and pulled a white canvas sack from inside his jacket. He opened it and slipped into her room without a sound.

  Slick Shadow put the bag down, assumed his viscous form, and slipped into a vent.

  When Puca heard a muffled whimper from inside Trista’s room, she knocked on Alex’s door.

  No answer.

  She knocked again.

  On the other side of the door, Alex said, “Trista, is that you?”

  In the other room, Trista emitted another muffled whimper.

  Puca waited for the door’s peephole to darken. She pointed one finger at the bag and the other at the middle of the door.

  The bag went limp when she teleported the sleeping pills dissolved in vodka directly into his stomach.

  Alex doubled-over. He felt like a heavyweight boxer slugged his belly.

  Slick Shadow slipped through the heat vent and landed behind Alex. His boneless arms wrapped around Alex’s elbows and knees.

  Alex wrestled against Slick Shadow’s soft oily arms. The harder he fought, the faster the alcohol and tranquilizer entered his bloodstream. Before long he felt too light-headed and groggy to even be afraid.

  Malone opened the next room’s door. Trista’s head shook furiously under the bag and her wrists strained against the handcuffs that kept them behind her back.

  Puca opened Alex’s door with the circuit-covered keycard. “Dis was easy.”

  Chapter Seven: Devils from the Deep Blue Sea

  Waves crashed against Pete’s stony feet as the sun set behind the Atlantic coastline.

  Pinwheel yelled, “Don’t go too far out. The island stops real abruptly. It’s a deep drop to the bottom.” He led Gary to the edge of the beach and pointed. “See those jagged lines on the horizon? That’s New York City.”

  It’s too far for me.” Gary’s compound eyes squinted. “Is that Rock Jock?”

  Pete didn’t turn around. “I used to be.”

  “I can’t believe you guys are here. I love the Young Sentinels. I watched your videos before I ran away from home. But, Pinwheel, what happened to your multi-colored hair?”

  Pinwheel rubbed his buzz cut. “That look wasn’t really me.”

  “Is Cantrip here? He’s my favorite.”

  “No.”

  “Too bad. There aren’t enough Jewish superheroes. You and Stardancer were a great duo. Remember that time when you fought Dragon-Dude? You said …”

  They said the line simultaneously. “His breath is worse than his bite.”

  Gary laughed. “And then Knockout Rose punched him so hard he did a backflip.”

  “Yeah, that stuntman was committed.”

  “What?”

  “We were actors. All our battles were staged.”

  “Really?

  Pete turned around. “I killed a little girl. That wasn’t acting.”

  “Easy, Pete,” said Pinwheel. “Agent O’Farrell said you did the right thing.”

  Gary said, “I don’t know what happened with Pig-Girl. One second she’s sweet, the next she pulls out a knife, licks it, and starts stabbing. Then the farmhouse blows up, and those other guys attack from all directions.”

  “It’s over,” said Pinwheel. “Let’s enjoy the sunset.”

  In the gym, Knockout Rose hit the heavy bag with her stun gloves turned off. Every time she did, the stripped-shut gashes in her cheek stung.

  Arbalest, also in full costume, entered the gym with his crossbow in his hands. She glared at him and punched the bag harder.

  Arbalest glared back and said nothing. He went to the window.

  In the medical building, Deon said, “Hey, Jenny, I can take you to the beach to watch the sunset.”

  Jenny didn’t look up from her Kindle. “I prefer sunrises.”

  “What are you reading?”

  “The Art of War.”

  “Is it better than the movie? You know, with Wesley Snipes?”

  Jenny raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m kidding. Is there anything in there about being nervous about starting pre-med school?”

  “Try not to run away, and if you do don’t pee yourself.”

  “You won’t let me live that down, will you?”

  Jenny went back to her Kindle. “Vijay would have a better comeback.”

  Ruby snapped her claws from her seat at the foot of Joey’s bed. “Don’t give up, dude. It takes persistence to get a girl.”

  In the middle of the island, Billy Two bleated and jumped around nervously.

  Steve looked back. “What’s his problem?”

  At the helipad near the airstrip, Stormhead pointed to the approaching helicopter.

  Magna’s eyes glowed a pale shade of blue. “I see ‘MAB’ on the side.”

  Harry said, “At least your telescopic enhancements are working. Maybe your x-ray emitters were burned out from the medical work.”

  “I cannot account for our helicopt
er. I scanned each component before it left. Whatever caused the malfunction must have occurred between here and Boston.”

  “We can survive one night without a helicopter,” said Stormhead. “Magna, let’s retrieve the prisoner. Harrison, stay here and make small talk with the agents.”

  Harry wrung his hands. “Small talk is a big problem for me.”

  Stormhead and Magna flew across the island to the room that held Noah. “Against the wall with your back to us.” Stormhead put his hands against the door and sent electricity into it before opening it.

  Noah stood against the far wall, still wearing shackles and a psychic nullifier. “Who’s the robot?”

  “Do not ask questions. Agent O’Farrell is not here to protect you.”

  Magna pulled Noah up the stairs by his shackles.

  “Where’s Joey?” asked Noah.

  Stormhead allowed electricity to crackle along his fingertips. “Away from you.”

  “Can I say goodbye to him?”

  Gary watched Stormhead and Magna lead Noah out of the cells. “Where are they taking him?”

  “Back to prison,” said Pinwheel.

  “Can I talk to him one last time?”

  “Stormhead told me to keep you away.”

  Gary tried to step around Steve but Steve held his arms out.

  “Please,” he said. “I know he was a villain, but I want to say goodbye to him.”

  “I can’t let you.”

  “Remember when you told Stardancer that you can’t be good if you aren’t nice?”

  “One of the worst lines I ever had to memorize.”

  Gary quit pushing. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “We’re taking you back to your parents in Long Island.”

  “I don’t want to go back. I flew away for a reason.”

  “You’re a minor and a missing person. You don’t have a choice.”

  “What about Ruby? She’s thirty-something.”

  “She can go anywhere she wants.”

 

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