Black Tie: Book One of the Sparrow Archives

by Kieran Strange

  The emergency ladders which had been punishing his spine finally paid their dues, as his free arm was able to crook itself tightly around one of the rungs. This revelation occurred not even two seconds before another hollow boom (which made him think of a subwoofer), which caused the beam of energy to retract rapidly from around his waist and leave him clinging to the side of the shaftway for his life thirty-four storeys up.

  It’s the falling, and the dying. Craaaaaaaap.

  “CABE!” Ronnie was yelling at him from above, and when he threw his head up, he could see her leaning out from the side of the elevator car. Her face was lined with worry amidst the curtain of short, dark hair, her doe-like eyes huge and panicked. “Are you okay!?”

  He looked down, looked back up again, looked at the drives grasped awkwardly between his fingers against his ribcage, and said the one thing that really summed up his entire attitude toward the whole situation.

  “... I really fucking HATE these shoes!”

  Climbing one-handed was uncomfortable, but not impossible. It was something he’d been trained to do, and had done in the past under the strain of broken limbs. Retaining possession of the drives for Elliot was priority to him at that moment, coupled with an urgent desire to get his ass back with the group as quickly as possible.

  Somewhere on the recurring floor, he heard rapid gunfire. Semi-automatic. At first, he’d thought it was Ronnie, but considering she was still leaning out of the car waving him frantically up, he had to presume it was Elliot or that Dasilva had finally arrived fashionably late. He heaved himself rhythmically from rung to rung as quickly as he could given the fact the Oxfords refused to offer him any kind of damn grip, leaning out to pass both drives to Ronnie as soon as he got close enough to try.

  Awesome as always, she scooped them both into her satchel so swiftly he doubted anyone else – especially given the chaos that sounded like it was transpiring up on the landing – saw the trade-off.

  “Are you okay?” she repeated herself as she reached out to clasp his arm and help him vault back into the elevator car. He rolled into an unceremonious heap on the carpet with a grunt, rocking the structure on its counterweights as he tried to figure out which way was up and which way the fight was.

  “As far as I’m aware,” he panted back, quickly coming to terms with how starved for breath he was. “I need to –”

  He didn’t get the chance to finish what he was saying, his priorities hastily shifting as a dart of bright blue light thrust into the elevator from the fray just inside the lab. Both he and Ronnie had to physically throw themselves out of the way to avoid it hitting them, and it charred the carpet and wood where they had previously been crouching together on their knees.

  Laying half-in and half-out of the elevator, Cabe was able to see why the doors were jammed, having been literally bent outward by sheer force until the sliding and locking mechanisms were too damaged to function. With a groan, he rolled onto his stomach and eased himself begrudgingly to his knees. Every muscle in his body (and most of his ribs) resented him more and more the further he pushed them, but unfortunately, the majority of the ones that were bruised and beaten were crucial to getting him and his party out of this situation alive.

  “Ronnie – stay here! Watch my back!” he demanded, as he allowed himself maybe half a second (if he was being generous) to assess the situation in front of him. Almost all of the glass walls between the rooms had been shattered and smashed, the furniture battered, dented, and burned in places that had gotten a little too close to some of the action. There were several bullet holes in the walls, in one of the filing cabinets, and the smooth wooden floor had been cracked open in at least three different places.

  The entire lab looked liked a bomb had hit it. And that was probably because, after a fashion, several had.

  It was hard not to notice their Assailant first. The blonde valkyrie seemed to be burning even brighter still, the intense and radiant glow consuming more and more of her skin as time went by. From the waist up she was a portrait of white light, the interweaving blue lines painted across and around her bulging biceps and taut pecs. Her eyes were a brilliant teal color, her pupils entirely absorbed by the brightness of their luminescence.

  Tracing their line of sight, Cabe came across Elliot – and just at the right moment, too. He wasn’t entirely sure what the young business executive was doing throwing himself headfirst into the middle of combat like this, especially given how he’d reacted to the gunshots in the Rockies. His suit was torn and his bowtie was missing, his shirt scorched and tattered in places as it hung messily from the waistband of his trousers. There was blood on his lip, blood on his face, blood on his clothes – too much, far too much blood for Cabe’s liking. Something on the back of his left hand was crackling, sparking, as if generating or holding some sort of current.

  By the time Cabe looked over at him, Elliot was mid-sprint down the hall toward the illuminated blonde Anomaly, though he came to a stop just as soon as he had started. He launched himself to one side, forming a fist with his left hand, and punched the steel filing cabinet in the room adjacent with what Cabe would’ve guessed was most of his strength.

  What happened next was nothing short of breathtaking.

  Whatever was glinting on the back of Elliot’s hand – which would eventually cause Cabe remember him donning that hexagonal silver ring hours ago in his bedroom – was what was creating that otherworldly sonic-boom he kept hearing, the one that pulsed through his eardrums and chest simultaneously and left him a little breathless each time.

  The instant it made contact with the solid surface, it gave off a small flash of pink light. At a speed that was quick but definitely slow enough for Cabe to see it with the naked eye, the pulse of electricity passed through the ring into Elliot’s hand, crackling around his wrist and forearm in tiny spasms of lightning that grew stronger and more pronounced and defined as they traveled up his arm, into his shoulder, and across his chest. Just about visible through his clothes, the bolts danced their way down his right arm toward his hand, snapping toward the point of his index and middle fingers, which was extended in front of him.

  It was like something from a comic book. It really was. And it was another example of why you just never questioned the science of anything you saw on the field until you were out, safe, and alive.

  With a grunt of effort – or perhaps pain – Elliot gathered the ball of electricity in the tips of his fingers and expelled it like some sort of tabletop dice-wielded magic at the blonde Anomaly. The corridor flashed bright white for a split second as the missile of fuchsia lightning rocketed through it, striking their Assailant hard in the chest and sending her rolling back several paces into the reinforced concrete wall.

  Elliot shook off his fingers, which were smoking ever so slightly, with a soft, muttered, “Ow.” He threw a look back across the lab toward the elevator, where Cabe was sprawled watching what had just happened with his mouth hanging wide, wide open.

  … if he ever stops scaring the hell outta me, I’ll know he’s been kidnapped and replaced.

  Dasilva found Cabe before he was able to locate her. Her hand was on the back of his jacket collar, hauling her younger partner roughly up off the ground with powerful, passionately-trained muscles. She had an assault rifle slung across her other shoulder, which was naked beneath the shimmering black evening gown. “Feet, Pigeon! What the fuck did I tell you about waiting for me!?”

  “Thanks for the boost,” Cabe tossed out one side of his mouth, finally getting the chance to liberate his secondary weapon from his ankle. “I... I honestly dunno if we can reason with this one...”

  “You really one-hundred per-cent sure about that?” Dasilva deadpanned, ducking low to avoid another rogue blast of energy that shattered a lone-standing cabinet behind her. “She’s off the deep end. Was it an escalation?”

  “Hugely. She’s getting worse, getting... crazier? She wants the drives and she’ll kill us to get ‘em.” Cabe glanced ove
r to watch Elliot sprinting toward them, sending another blast of electricity into their Assailant’s chest with a strained growl as she tried to get her feet under herself again. The blonde was acting less and less like a person as the fray went on, and more and more like a machine... hell-bent on doing its job, no matter what the consequences.

  “Sparrow... I think we have to disable.”

  Cabe’s had snapped sharply over so that he could stare at Dasilva. But despite his apparent shock, a part of him had known for a while that the more veteran agent may choose to make that call. The real reason Cabe had wanted Ronnie to stay back wasn’t because she was useless – far from it. Nor was it because he thought she might get hurt, or that he didn’t see her as an equal member of the team. It was because he had a nasty feeling things may wind up turning a little gruesome if he couldn’t think of any other way to... alleviate their Assailant of the hands that wielded the blue energy. He’d done some horrible, horrific things in his time, not as often to save his own ass as it was to save a multitude of people’s, and as much as he shared with his young handler, there were certain things about himself he wasn’t entirely comfortable with her knowing yet.

  There was something unsettling about some of the terminology they used at times like this. Perhaps it made it easier to take down a threat that couldn’t be reasoned with, contained, or knocked out if they talked about it like they were disabling part of a weapon. Maybe it was just less distressing to think about the fact that they were doing whatever they could to bring their assailant in alive... if they didn’t think about some of the things they had to do in order to separate some Anomalies from what appeared to be the source of their unfathomable and often overwhelming abilities.

  “Gab’...” he said softly, but the bruise that was slowly turning his left eye black wasn’t helping him persuade her any. Before he could say anything else, Elliot was screeching to a halt beside them with a lot more finesse and grace than Cabe ever could in those damn fancy-pants shoes.

  “The drives?” asked Elliot urgently. Cabe nodded at him without any hesitation.

  “Safe. Secured.” The way Elliot looked over at Ronnie in what was left of the elevator car told Cabe that the intelligent executive understood exactly what he meant. “We need to get to the ground floor, the elevator doors are busted up, or at least stay alive for the next, like, five minutes.” Cabe raised his voice a tad to talk over Dasilva, who was radioing in to Flint downstairs after his voice in their wire told them W.A.R.D. back-up agents were now on the scene. “What are we dealing with?”

  “Whatever level of science this chick’s running on, I’m drawing a blank,” muttered Elliot, pivoting sharply with his left hand clenched and right hand extended as a groan from behind them heralded their assailant getting up... again. “Honestly, Sparrow, for all I know, the shit I’m doing’s just making her stronger!”

  Cabe’s gun was also trained on the staggering, stumbling silhouette of fluorescent white and blue. “And what about your level of science...?”

  Elliot smirked. “Piezoelectricity, and a little magic of my own. I’ll explain it when we have more time. Honestly, Peaches, aren’t you supposed to be the professionals here?”

  Cabe nodded, still somewhat breathless. “Well, I don’t like to brag, but I’ve been told that it’s my forte.”

  “I can think of a couple other things you can do better.”

  Scowling, Cabe tossed his head in his partner’s direction. “Gabby?”

  “Back-up’s on the way.” The Latina agent turned her attention to their client, despite the fact that she was slowly moving further into the lab to allow herself the opportunity to flank their opponent with her partner. “Mr. Wright, I’m going to have to ask you to head downstairs with Agent Moss via the stairwell. We have agents in the lobby waiting to escort you off-premises.”

  “Oh, you do?” Elliot brightened. “That’s excellent.”

  With what sounded like a much more labored noise of effort, he dropped and slammed his fist into the hardwood floor, aiming a considerably smaller whip of lightning at the Anomaly, knocking her back against the wall but not off her feet.

  “Science Girl, you heard ‘em! Downstairs, now!” Elliot rose from the ground with a visible wince, flicking his right hand back and forth as the stone in the ring on the left crackled ominously. As his vivid blur of fingers slowed to a stop, Cabe was able to make out blistered burns at the very tips of the index and middle ones.

  Ronnie looked like she was going to protest. Or at least, she looked like she wanted to protest, but thought better of it, considering she was being given a direct order by a highly-esteemed client when she was currently in possession of the very thing their Assailant was in search of. Before the rogue Anomaly could figure out where the hell the drives had gone, Ronnie needed to get them out.

  “NO...!” Her face little more than a glare of hot, white energy beneath her disheveled and disorderly braids, their Anomaly foe was sprawled against the wall, her entire body trembling with the effort it took to remain upright. There were a couple ragged, bloody bullet holes in her arms, chest, and shoulders, which were gushing a strange blue light which seemed to change from mimicking a liquid to a gas within just a second or two of being exposed to the air. For a scientist, it must’ve been a beautiful moment to question the evolution of life and just how divergent an Anomaly’s genetic and biological make-up could be from a human’s.

  Unfortunately, both of the scientifically-minded people in the room were a little too preoccupied to care about cytology as the blonde launched a tidal wave of energy in the direction of the elevator. With a noise that was somewhere between a grunt and a yell, Ronnie darted back into the lift to avoid the blast, which hit the side of it with enough force to shake the whole car.

  “DRIVES...!” came the Anomaly’s haggard shriek, almost nonsensical at this point. She was a woman possessed, driven by determination, or diligence, or passion, or... something else.

  “WRIGHT...” she continued, her throat hoarse and voice wearied as she stumbled away from the wall and toward the elevator, crashing into a desk to catch and support herself on the way. “RESEARCH... SERUM...!”

  Three of Cabe’s bullets and a short flurry of Dasilva’s pounded their Assailant in the biceps and flexors, causing her to buckle over onto the tabletop as more cracks and craters pierced through the shimmering white glow that enveloped her body.

  “STAND DOWN!” barked Cabe, in an authoritative tone Elliot likely never would have expected out of him. “Seriously, on the ground! I’m DONE here!”

  The woman’s radiant mask of a face turned toward Cabe with a snarl that wasn’t even civilized anymore – something animal and predatory and desperate. But instead of launching her assault on the human who had threatened her, the Anomaly spun back around and flung both arms in the direction of the elevator with a scream, quite literally twisting and ripping pieces of iron and steel and concrete from the wall and the ceiling and the car in the hoistway. One hand formed a claw even as Dasilva took the other’s power out temporarily with a well-aimed stream of bullets, seizing the entire elevator car within its luminescent blue grasp and dragging it savagely out of the shaft and onto the floor of the landing. Somewhere inside of it, Ronnie cried out as the car was slung forcibly over onto its curved side, just split seconds before another hail of Dasilva’s ammo momentarily rid the assailant of her second appendage as well.

  “I don’t think she takes too kindly to the diplomatic approach, Peaches –!”

  Cabe wasn’t sure exactly what Elliot was willing to sacrifice himself to protect – his newfound kindred spirit, or the prize she was currently safeguarding. But there was clearly something in that elevator car he cared about more than his own well-being, because he was rushing past Cabe in a black-and-white blur and vaulting over a desk toward the blonde Anomaly with a forceful and patent purpose.

  It wasn’t until he was within arm’s reach of the valkyrie woman and about to strike the desk with hi
s fist that she chose to unleash her abilities again with a shrill wail of exertion. Both arms, streaming blue mist from fresh bullet wounds, flung themselves aside from her chest; the barbed beams of light that burst from her hands each ensnared one of Elliot’s arms, wrenching him high into the air.

  “WRIGHT...” she spat, slowly drawing her hands apart a little further, and the groan of pain that tore itself from the depths of Elliot’s chest was enough of an indicator as to exactly how much pressure she was putting on his joints by stretching them from each side. “RESEARCH... S-S-SERUM... then... KILL...!”

  A pair of slugs from Cabe’s sidearm pierced her chest, jarring her body a little before melting into the glare of her skin. She was long, long gone. Whether it was the furious glow in her eyes or her anguished vocalizations as she fought to remain upright and conscious, some kind of signal suddenly rushed through all of Cabe’s supernatural senses, warning him that the corded, braided blonde woman he met upon first entering the laboratory was no longer with them. What was left in her place was a dangerous, desperate shell of a creature, hell-bent on executing what seemed like a critical, single-minded mission – whatever the cost.

  And nothing was taking her down.

  Another pealing yell from Elliot yanked Cabe brutally back into the present. He was going to die. Fair do’s, it was his own stupidity and his own brazenness that had brought them all to this point tonight, but he was going to be rent in two right in front of them all unless somebody did something very soon that didn’t involve squeezing a trigger.

  “Y’know, sir,” Cabe finally announced, words shaky with adrenaline and more for the purposing of drawing the Anomaly’s attention away from his client than for actual comedic effect, “it’s such a shame right now that I have absolutely zero sense of adventure –”

  His tightly-coiled muscles sprung into action, propelling him forward into a mad dash, and he fired off the last one, two, three, four, five shots left in the clip for cover as he vaulted the remnants of the wall and barreled knees-first into the tall filing cabinet beside her with all of the strength and speed and vigor he had left in him.