The Handler made it into the room with the monitors. He had to enlarge the screens’ fonts to read the words through his double-vision.
One intercepted phone call to Griffin Tower, Agent O’Farrell’s phone. He played the audio track and heard Stormhead relay the address for Satell Enterprises to Alex.
“They’re coming here.” He picked up his phone and pressed a speed-dial button. “Flayer, where are you?
“Outside Lincoln Tunnel.”
“Did you see the New York Guardians?”
“I passed a weirdo on a purple motorcycle in the westbound lanes. He had a crossbow.”
“Good. Change of plans. Occupy Griffin Tower. Trash it and kill everyone inside. I want their destroyed home on my monitors when they try to arrest me.”
“Eh? Remember how that building covered itself with steel plates last month? How am I supposed to get in?”
“Think of something.” He hung up and pressed another button. “Puca, did you distribute your passengers to their location?”
“Right as rain ah did. It took tahme tah git …”
“English, Colleen.”
Puca coughed. “God ah feel bloody awful. But I did it. Ah got dem scattered to each point.”
“We need chaos to cover the first wave. Plant some bombs.”
He looked over the monitors. The news channels had metahuman battles. From Boston to Philadephia, minor villains faced local heroes in the streets, in the air, and around major landmarks.
“Superheroes, always trying to save the day.” The Handler spat. “Goethe said it best. ‘I know of nothing poorer under the sun than you, gods! You barely sustain your majesty with sacrificial offerings and exhalated prayers and would wither, were not children and beggars hopeful fools.'”
Alex, Knockout Rose, and Pinwheel made it one block before running into a villain, a hulking brute in a furry suit with a mask that was practically the whole head of his namesake animal.
“It’s Wildebeest,” said Alex. “Typical stock-heavy superthug. It's been a while since anyone saw him.” He raised his shotgun. Before he fired, Pinwheel released a flash of light that hit Alex.
“Damn it, Steve!” Alex rubbed his eyes.
Knockout Rose dropped to one knee, straightened her arm, and released a jet of capsaicin spray. Wildebeest charged through the cloud without slowing down. She barely rolled away.
Pinwheel shoved Alex aside but couldn’t dodge Wildebeest’s grabbing hands. The brute grabbed Pinwheel’s jacket and lifted him straight up.
Alex blinked. He still couldn’t see.
Knockout Rose punched Wildebeest’s lower back repeatedly. The electricity in her gloves didn’t get through his hide-suit.
Pinwheel wriggled furiously enough to rip his jacket. He wriggled more furiously when Wildebeast raised him high. He was in for a painful bone-crushing body slam on a New York street, but couldn’t get free.
Wildebeest put his arms back. In the split second before he snapped them forward, an African-American midget in a purple-and-yellow leotard jumped across the street. Her gold-tipped braids made a halo when she landed a solid punch in Wildebeest’s breadbasket.
Pinwheel rolled free.
When Wildebeest doubled-over, the woman followed through with a solid right hook. “I always win against big game.”
Alex blinked the spots from his eyes. “Atomic Annie. Thanks for coming through.”
Atomic Annie waved a purple-gloved fist while Knockout Rose helped Pinwheel back to his feet. “Your boy was in a jam, and I didn’t want him to become jelly.”
Alex raised his shotgun.
Atomic Annie raised her hands. “Geez! That joke sucked, but you don’t have to …”
Alex fired over Atomic Annie’s head. A spray of intense pepper hit Wildebeest’s face. The force from stunned Wildebeest. Then the burning sensation set in. His bellow echoed through the streets when he ran away.
“Nice shootin’, Tex,” said Atomic Annie. “Next time, use your words.”
“We have to get to New York-Presbyterian. How about an escort?”
“Sure, an escort mission, nothing’s more fun than that. So can I ask you a few dozen questions, like why a MAB agent is hanging out with Young Sentinels and why you’re going to the hospital in anything but an ambulance and where the New York Guardians are and …?”
Alex pointed down the street. A man in brass goggles and a flowing leather coat soared between buildings with a winged jetpack that pumped steam contrails. He fired a bell-ended rifle at two policemen, who took cover behind their car.
“You fought that guy before, right?”
“Ah, yeah,” said Atomic Annie. “That’s Steamfly. One of Count Clockwork’s goons. Stupid Victorian-retro punks.”
Pinwheel threw off his torn jacket, put his hands together, and extended his index fingers. A laser beam shot out. He adjusted his hands to make it hit Steamfly’s goggles.
Steamfly reflexively turned his head. The jetpack veered with him.
The police officers noticed he wasn’t shooting. They popped up from behind cover and opened fire. Steamfly twitched each time his armor sparkled. One bullet hit his jetpack's rocket. It sputtered a thick cloud as he careened through a building's flat-glass window.
“Seriously?” said Atomic Annie. “I bounced like a pinball from building to building the last time I fought that chump. I could’ve taken him down with a laser pointer?”
“Surprised you didn’t think of it,” said Pinwheel.
They ran down the street. Alex was so focused on the road ahead he didn’t notice a man with huge coiled boots and a helmet with black goat horns land in front of him.
“Klipspringer,” shouted Atomic Annie. “He jumps and that’s it.”
Klipspringer grabbed Alex’s shotgun. The two of them wrestled for control before Knockout Rose uppercutted him. Alex had no trouble ripping the shotgun free from Klipspringer’s unconscious hands.
“Thanks.” Alex flipped Klipspringer over, pulled his arms behind his back, and handcuffed him. He handed Knockout Rose a zip tie. “Tie his boots together.”
Knockout Rose slipped the cuffs through the straps in Klipspringer’s boots. “These are adjustable. Hey, can I have these?”
“Let Doctor Von Dyme figure out how they work, and they’re yours.”
“Forget it. I don’t want to talk to him again.”
Alex yanked Klipspringer up. “Then why do you hang out in his lab?”
“You’re not the only one with complicated relationships.”
They dragged Klipspringer to the bullet-ridden police car where Pinwheel crouched.
Atomic Annie said, “It looks like a straight shot to the …”
Shouts of “Run!” from the police officers drowned out his words. Alex saw the headlights of a truck coming straight for the police car. He grabbed Pinwheel and Knockout Rose and pulled them away from the collision.
“Did anyone get the license number?” said Atomic Annie.
The truck crashed into the steel plate over Griffin Tower’s front entrance with enough force to bend it. The driver got out. Metal whips shot out from under his coat’s sleeves and ripped the truck’s back door open.
“Damn it,” said Alex, “Emily and Calvin are in there.”
“Should we turn back?” asked Pinwheel.
Alex watched a motley crew of villains and monsters pour out of the truck.
“There are a few times more of them than there are of us,” said Atomic Annie. “Weren’t you going somewhere else?”
Alex grit his teeth. “To the hospital. Fast.”
“But, Agent, what about your family?” asked Knockout Rose.
“We can’t take on that many villains. We must stop the Handler. Besides, Griffin Tower has a security system. And Jenny.”
As soon as he said that, the sounds of the mounted machine guns firing echoed through the streets.
Alex forced himself to turn. He ran towards the hospital so quickly Pinwheel, Knockout Rose, and Atomic Annie
struggled to keep pace with him. He raised his shotgun and shot pepper at any villain who got within range. The blowback – and the nagging feeling that he abandoned his family to their doom - made tears stream down his cheeks.
He ducked behind a parked car across the street from the hospital. Four human-dinosaur hybrids stood in front of the hospital’s entrance. They roared aggressively at the police officers on all sides of them.
“It's the Dino-Tribe,” said Alex. “A bunch of scientists who injected themselves with mutagenic dinosaur DNA. They ended up with walnut-sized brains so they can’t change back.
“Knockout Rose, punch out the velicoraptor-looking one. Watch out for his claws. Pinwheel, hit the iguana-looking one with a long tail. Be careful you don’t flash-blind any of us. Atomic Annie, can you handle the triceratops-man?”
“That’s a styracosaurus, but yeah, no problem.”
“Great. I’ll take T-Rex.”
Knockout Rose looked at the capsaicin capsules on her wrist. “I don’t think pepper will work on reptiles. They don’t have the same pain receptors as humans.”
Alex and Pinwheel looked at Knockout Rose strangely.
“I took chemistry classes,” she said.
“Thanks for the tip.” Alex loaded lead slugs into his shotgun. “Let’s move.”
Alex slid over the car’s hood and opened fire on the tyrannosaurus-man. Each shot made an explosion of red, a small explosion in its thick-red skin compared to the thing’s bulk.
Knockout Rose ran at the velociraptor-man. She would have landed a devastating punch if it didn’t see her coming. It hopped and threw a spinning kick. Its large claws gave her a quick flashback of Slick Shadow slashing her face. She raised her gloves and ducked.
Atomic Annie vaulted over the car and tackled the styracosaurus-man’s horned head crest. She planned to knock it off-balance by making it top-heavy. Instead, the creature spread his legs to brace himself and swung his head. Only Atomic Annie’s enhanced strength kept her from flying off
Pinwheel contorted his fingers to direct his flash attack straightforward. The light blinded the long-tailed iguana-man, who spun and whipped his tail in all directions. Pinwheel didn’t dare to get any closer.
Alex aimed higher. The tyrannosaurus-man lunged. He jumped back and unwittingly swung his shotgun to the side. It went off in his hands. The slug hit the iguana-man in the hip. He fell with a piercing shriek.
The styracosaurus-man threw Atomic Annie off his bony shield with one strong swing. She flew through the air spinning. All four limbs landed superhuman-strong hits on the velociraptor-man before she ran into him. The impact was enough to break most of his bones while leaving the super-dense superheroine unharmed.
Knockout Rose jumped away from the falling velociraptor-man. She bumped into the dizzy styracosaurus-man. She spun and punched the back of its head with enough force and electricity to send it face-first onto the street.
The tyrannosaurus-man lunged at Alex again. Pinwheel put his hands together and let his fear and rage shoot out of his hands in the form of a powerful laser. The beam hit the tyrannosaurus man’s nose and took off a chunk of his mouth. Dagger-sized teeth vanished instantly. The creature stood stunned for a few seconds before falling unconscious.
Alex stepped back and looked over the defeated Dino-Tribe.
Pinwheel blew his smoking bandages. “Hotter than a meteor.”
Knockout Rose turned off her gloves. “Extinct again.”
“We kicked Jurassic ass,” said Atomic Annie.
Alex slung the shotgun over his shoulder, pulled out his MAB badge, and shouted to the police, “Get these things into the hospital.”
Atomic Annie pulled a phone from her boot and checked her text messages. “Hate to break up the party, but the Harlem Knights needs help.” She ran towards Centre Street.
One of the cops pointed at Pinwheel. “Hey, aren’t you a Young Sentinel?”
“I was.”
“Your former team is on the other side of the hospital. They’re getting slaughtered.”
“I told their manager to keep them off the street,” said Alex.
“Agent, please,” said Pinwheel, “I lost Pete. I can’t lose any more friends.”
“I thought you didn’t like them,” said Alex.
“But they don’t deserve to die,” said Knockout Rose.
“Heroes don’t choose who they save,” said Pinwheel.
“Then go.” Alex put his badge against the hospital’s front entrance. “Whatever happens, stay alive.”
The glass doors opened for Alex.
Flayer slipped the tips of his whips through the warped top border of the steel plate that covered Griffin Tower’s lobby doors. The metal creaked as it bent. He grabbed the turtle-shelled woman and shoved her through the gap. The machine guns fired. A few bursts later, there wasn’t much left of her.
“That ain’t good,” said Flayer. He thought about the mechanics of the machine guns. He also remembered he wasn’t getting paid to bring the lowlifes in his truck back.
He pointed to All-Beef Patty and raised the specialized microphone to his mouth. “You with the muscles, get this wall down. Who has ranged powers?”
Two mutants raised their hands. One had his hand covered in flames, the other had fingers like icicles.
Flayer checked the list on his tablet. “Backburner, Icy Fingers, shoot out the guns. The rest of you, get in line. You’ll go in one at a time to draw their fire. Bristlespine, you’re first.”
The villains knew it was suicide, but the stimoceiver microchips implanted in their brains didn't let them resist his order. On Flayer’s orders, a man covered in porcupine quills ran into the bullets as the two projectile-powered villains fired at the exposed guns.
Junkyard Kat got in the back of the line. Only a lifetime of defying authority gave her the strength to hold back that far. The stimoceiver generated small shocks to keep any stronger thoughts from forming.
In the medical ward, Gale Force said, “We need to get to Agent O’Farrell’s family.”
“Why?” asked Gary.
“There’s a bunker under the basement. They’ll be safe there.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure they’ll trust you?”
“I hope they do. Where’s the bunker?”
Ujimushi answered. “Below the basement. Follow the line of LED lights on the ceiling away from the living quarters and keep going down.”
“How did you know that?” asked Gale Force.
“It’s how we got in last month.”
A burst of machine gun fire echoed through the building.
“Hey, question,” said Bosillos.”Why are those guns getting quieter?”
“I have no idea,” said Gale Force.
There was another blast of machinegun fire. It was quieter and shorter.
“Sounds like they’re not working anymore.” Bosillos yanked his handcuff against the bedrail. “Hand me my cigarettes? I want a last smoke.”
Gale Force looked over the assortment of tools on the table. “If I set you free, will you help me defend the tower?”
“I ain’t a fighter, gorda. I fix stuff, that’s it.”
She looked at Ujimushi. “Will you help?”
“Why should I help the ones who slaughtered my clan?” asked Ujimushi.
“Because if you don’t, we’re all dead.”
Gary said, “So, uh, should I go or …”
Gale Force looked at Bosillos’s tools while thinking of the elevator. “I remember something from The Art of War about holding a position that can’t be attacked.”
Traffic barely moved on the way to Lincoln Tunnel, but it was stationary to Deon.
Time slowed down when he approached his full speed. He could look back and forth through an intersection and dash through in the narrow space the taxi drivers left between the cars. Even bicycle messengers seemed sluggish to him.
His vision became sharper. Obstacles passed so quickly he cou
ld process glimpses. His brain synapses connected fast enough to allow him to process thoughts much faster than usual so he could process everything in his path and dodge it easily.
That ability was all that saved him when he saw a woman in ragged green fatigues with a rabbit-eared helmet vanish in a puff several blocks down the road. It was also the only thing that saved his life when he was only a block from that spot and saw the flames of an explosion spread in a plume right before he heard the deafening boom.
At close to a hundred miles per hour, Deon barely managed to dodge the shower of debris. He heard shouts behind him. Puca reappeared several blocks down.
Deon decelerated as he wove through the pedestrians on the sidewalk. To him, people moved so slowly he saw every muscle move as they raised their hands to defend their faces.
Puca shoved something into a garbage can and disappeared again.
A burst of speed got Deon to the garbage can in a split second. He raised the lid.
It had been almost two months since Lady Amazing showed him what Semtex looked like in a training session, but he recognized the block of gray putty with a digital clock on it in the time it took the lit-up zero-zero-eight to turn into zero-zero-seven.
The only other thing he knew about bombs was that Lady Amazing told him to never try to disarm one because there were thousands of possible detonator configurations.
The timer read zero-zero-six.
He looked around. He couldn’t see a place to put the bomb that wouldn’t possibly kill someone.
The timer read zero-zero-five.
Deon forgot every negative feeling he had about New York City. He was the only one who could save it now.
The timer read zero-zero-four.
Puca reappeared down the block with another bomb in her hand.
Deon ran faster than he ever did before.
The timer on the bomb he held read zero-zero-three.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Something Black in the Lentil
The MAB agents parted when Alex ran through the hallway with his badge out. He ran into the hospital room, took off his helmet, and unslung his shotgun.
The Prospects (Book 2): Nothing Poorer Than Gods Page 23
