Vanguard: Season Four: A Superhero Adventure

by Percival Constantine

  The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened out into a large office with wide, bay windows looking out onto the city. Bradshaw walked over to his massive desk and took a seat with a contented sigh. He pushed a button on his intercom and asked his secretary to bring him a cup of coffee. As he waited, Bradshaw started up his computer and began reading through his emails.

  His secretary entered, carrying the coffee over to him. She set it down beside his desk and he took it by the handle, not even glancing up at her. The secretary activated her smartwatch and it generated a HUD on the lenses of her glasses, projecting the information into her retina.

  “Sir, if you’d like, I can go over the day’s agenda with you.”

  Bradshaw took a sip of the coffee and set the mug down, not looking away from the monitor. “Give me about twenty minutes, Cheryl. I want to get through all this email, first.”

  “Certainly. Just let me know when you’re ready.” Cheryl pivoted and approached the door. She opened it, but before walking out, she stopped and turned, looking back at him. “Oh sir? One important thing. Someone from Cerberus requested an urgent meeting with you.”

  Bradshaw looked up and removed his glasses. “Urgent? When? What’s it about?”

  “In…about ten minutes. He said it’s classified.”

  “Couldn’t have told me about it before I arrived?” asked Bradshaw.

  “The call came through about twenty minutes ago. I sent a message to your smartwatch.”

  Bradshaw checked the device on his wrist and saw an unread message from Cheryl. “Look at that. You got a name?”

  “General…” Cheryl paused and tapped her watch, refreshing her memory. “Ellis.”

  “Cerberus brass, great. Send him in once he arrives.”

  “Of course, sir.” Cheryl exited the office and closed the door behind her.

  Bradshaw continued his morning ritual, checking and responding to emails. A few minutes later, right on target, the door opened and his first appointment for the day arrived. Bradshaw turned off his monitor and stood upright. He took in the man in the Gunsmith armor who approached, noting in particular the cybernetic eye. There was something in the man’s face that Bradshaw found very familiar.

  “General Ellis, right?” he asked. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  “Dr. Bradshaw.” Gunsmith approached the desk and reached his hand across. Bradshaw accepted it and the two shook.

  “I’m a little surprised you came in the armor.”

  Gunsmith flashed a grin. “I like to be prepared for anything.”

  Bradshaw realized Gunsmith was still shaking his hand. He tried to pull it away, but Gunsmith maintained a firm grip. A grip that was growing stronger, to the point that he was actively hurting Bradshaw’s hand.

  “Umm, General? Could I have my hand back, please?”

  “Oh!” Gunsmith gave an innocent laugh and released the hand. “My apologies. You know these days, almost all my interactions are conducted with a Kotharian salute. Can you believe it’s actually been years since I shook someone’s hand?”

  “Is that right?” Bradshaw’s chuckle betrayed his nervousness. He rubbed his hand and motioned to the chair in front of the desk as he returned to his own seat. “Anyway, what is it I can do for Cerberus today?”

  “We recently took in some prisoners and they were transferred to a research facility,” said Gunsmith. “I’d like your help to find out which one.”

  “That’s…strange. Why not just put in an official request?”

  Gunsmith sucked air through his teeth. “I’m afraid it’s classified.”

  “Right, of course. Must be related to the Codex project.”

  “That’s…I can’t really confirm or deny that. But between you and me…”

  “Got it.” Bradshaw gave him a knowing smile.

  In truth, Jim had no idea what the Codex was. But he made a mental note to keep it in mind. And if pretending that’s why he was here made it easier for him to get the information he needed, then he’d happily do just that.

  Bradshaw’s fingers hovered over his keyboard. “Who are these prisoners I’m looking for?”

  “Two females. Victoria Asano, AKA Talon. And Reina Davis, AKA Ink.”

  Bradshaw stretched his fingers and moved them from the keyboard. He set them calmly on the desk and looked Jim in his remaining eye. “Now that’s interesting, General.”

  “What is?”

  “You said you need these two prisoners for the Codex. But according to an email I’d just finished reading before you walked through my door, those two had already been processed.”

  “Really? Must have been a miscommunication somewhere.”

  “Must have been.” Bradshaw lowered his hands onto his lap, out of Gunsmith’s view. He tapped his watch a few times, issuing commands on it.

  “I’ll still need their location. Have to confirm all this.”

  “Actually, you might want to consult General Callus about that.”

  Gunsmith sighed. “You don’t remember me, do you, Doctor?”

  Bradshaw arched a brow. “Not sure I follow.”

  “Twenty years ago. Baltimore.”

  A sudden look of realization appeared across the scientist’s face. He began shaking his head and slid his chair away from the desk. Standing, he held his arms out in front of him. “N-now listen! Listen to me! What happened back then…it was a different world!”

  “Damn right it was.” Gunsmith slowly stood.

  “I was just following orders! I didn’t have any say in the matter!”

  “Following orders. Just like you’re doing now.”

  “B-but you!” Bradshaw pointed at Gunsmith. “We’re on the same side! We both work for the Kotharians!”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” Gunsmith jumped over the desk and landed in front of Bradshaw, who gave a yelp in response. With one hand, Gunsmith casually tossed Bradshaw’s chair across the room. He wrapped his fingers around Bradshaw’s neck and lifted him off the ground, slamming his back against the window.

  “P-please don’t kill me!” Bradshaw peered out the corner of his eyes, looking out the glass at the street far below.

  “I just want what I came here for.” Gunsmith leaned his face in close. Against his better judgment, Bradshaw found his eyes fixed on Gunsmith’s cybernetic implant.

  “I’ll tell you where they are! I swear! Just please, don’t kill me!”

  Gunsmith sighed. He’d hoped Bradshaw would put up more of a fight, give him a reason to knock him around. Jim still owed the man for the experiments he performed on him twenty years ago. But there was the mission to think about. And so Gunsmith shoved Bradshaw at his desk.

  Bradshaw hit the edge, doubling over as his abdomen, which had softened over the decades, struck the wood. He groaned and gingerly moved to his computer, bringing up the information Gunsmith wanted. Once the files were displayed on the monitor, Bradshaw stepped away from the computer and pointed at it.

  “Look, right there!” he pleaded.

  Gunsmith moved to the monitor. His cybernetic eye scanned the information, saving it to memory. Now he just had to meet back at the rendezvous point. He looked away from the computer and reached down for the teleforce gun affixed to his thigh.

  “Wait, you said you’d let me live!” screamed Bradshaw.

  “Actually, I didn’t. You just assumed I did.” Gunsmith raised the weapon. But before he could fire, his armor flashed a warning across his implant. Gunsmith spun towards the window just as some invisible force burst through the glass.

  He was hit immediately, thrown into the desk and knocking it over. Gunsmith struck the ground and groaned, trying to get back up. The armor may have given him increased strength and durability, but the man who wore it was still in his fifties.

  There were distortions in the air, but the infrared provided by his implant showed there was a person in front of him. The distortions occurred more until a figure flickered into view, a figure clad in armor that cove
red her body from head to toe.

  “General Ellis, the Hellhounds would like a word with you, sir,” said Blindside.

  CHAPTER 8

  Two Cerberus guards decked out in Gunsmith armor entered the lab, only to find it completely empty. They parted ways, each one taking a different section of the lab and examining it. One of the guards approached the two active pods. One was empty, the other had an opaque forcefield across the front. He looked at his partner.

  “Hey Harrison, weren’t there two prisoners scheduled for sessions in here today?”

  The other guard gave a shrug. “What do I look like, Evans? Azarov’s secretary?”

  Evans waved a dismissive hand at his partner. He moved from the pod over to the console and brought up the records. “Yeah, just like I said. Two prisoners.”

  “So what?” asked Harrison.

  “So only one of the pods is being used. Why’s the second pod empty? And why were we summoned down here when no one’s waiting for us?”

  Harrison ignored the comment, continuing to explore the lab. He opened the door to the storage room and walked inside. It shut right behind him and the sound drew Evans’ attention. He stared at the door for a few moments.

  “Harrison?” Evans stepped away from the console and walked towards the door. “C’mon man, quit screwing around. We’ve got a job to do.”

  No response came and Evans approached the door. He reached a hand for it and it suddenly opened from the other side. Harrison stepped out, staring at his partner. Evans moved back a few paces, feeling uncomfortable under the cold gaze through the Gunsmith helmet.

  “What the hell? You’re creeping me out.”

  Harrison’s hand shot out, the punch connecting with Evans’ face. Evans stumbled, falling over a tray and knocking the surgical instruments on the floor. Harrison drove an elbow into Evans’ face and he struck the ground. A stomp on his back pinned him there and Evans just lay there, not moving.

  ‘Harrison’ removed the Gunsmith helmet, revealing the face of Talon beneath. She looked back at the door to the storage room. “All clear.”

  Ink emerged from storage, dragging the real Harrison’s body out into the lab. She put him into the empty pod and activated the field around it, making sure to switch it to opaque mode.

  Talon stripped Evans of his armor, setting the pieces carefully to the side. Once she was done, she lifted the unconscious guard and threw him over her shoulder. As she was doing that, Ink had gone to the console and activated a third pod, which rose from a compartment in the floor. Talon placed Evans’ body inside while Ink donned the discarded armor.

  “Wanna go on record as saying this is a pretty crazy idea,” said Talon as she activated the pod’s forcefield.

  “I know, you said that a few times.” Ink pulled the gauntlets on and tested her arms a few times. “You wanna keep complaining about it?”

  “Actually no, I think crazy sounds pretty good right about now,” said Talon. “You sure you know how to work these things?”

  Ink gave a nod. “Seen ’em in action enough damn times. We wear these, get out to reception, get these damn inhibitors off, and then we make a break for it.”

  “And what if we run into a situation where we’re supposed to salute or something and we screw it up?”

  Ink drew the shock-baton holstered to her thigh and held it up for Talon to see. She activated the weapon, the tip sparking with electricity. “That’s what we’ve got these things for, isn’t it?”

  “Okay, guess this is as good a plan as any.” Talon raised her gauntlet. She raised a compartment on it with her other hand, exposing the suit’s controls. She entered a few commands, following the information displayed on her HUD. “On the plus side, this gives us a map of the entire facility. And fortunately, the hangar’s connected to reception.”

  “Good, we get rid of the inhibitors, then jack a ship and try and make contact with the Icarus.”

  “Something’s bothering me, though.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “Callus asked about Chronos.”

  “And?”

  “And how did he know that name?” asked Talon.

  Ink paused. That thought had been gnawing at her as well, but she’d tried to dismiss it. “Maybe they overheard someone call him by name when we attacked Proximo.”

  “Not only that, but he knew Chronos was a time traveller. Knew about the tachyon generator. How could they have known all that?”

  “The Analyst’s contact must have turned on us, only explanation that makes any sense,” said Ink.

  “Maybe,” said Talon. “But something still doesn’t feel right about it.”

  “We can worry about it later. Right now, let’s concentrate on getting the hell out of here.” Ink stepped up to the lab door. Before she opened it, she gave Talon one last look. “Keep any conversation to a minimum, okay? No telling what kind of surveillance is in these halls.”

  She stuck her head out the door, did a quick check to make sure the corridor was clear, and then exited with Talon following behind. They both programmed their HUDs to show the directions to receiving and proceeded to the elevator. The doors closed and Ink selected the ground level.

  Nervous feelings plagued the both of them. Ink wondered whether or not all this was because the Analyst’s mole turned out to be a double agent, or if there was something else at work. Obviously she knew she couldn’t be the mole. But anyone else in the team was a potential risk. Even the teenage girl who now stood by her side.

  Ink dismissed that thought from her mind and instantly cursed herself for having entertained it for even the briefest of seconds. It couldn’t be someone on their team, and especially not Talon.

  The doors opened and the two specials walked down the corridor, side-by-side. They saw another guard walking towards them. Ink chanced a glance at Talon, but she stared straight ahead. Neither gave any outward indication of the fear that they might do something to make this guard suspicious.

  “Nice night, huh?” asked the guard as he approached.

  Ink gave a curse nod. The two women made a path for the guard and he walked right past them towards the elevator. As they continued moving down the corridor, Ink risked a look over her shoulder and saw he hadn’t stopped or even slowed. Just continued right on into the elevator. She exhaled in relief.

  The HUD took them down another corner. Ink saw a security checkpoint at the end of the path. There was an entrance and an exit and between them, a uniformed guard sitting in a booth surrounded by a forcefield. Each exit was also blocked with a field to prevent unauthorized entry or exit. Ink looked at the doorways and saw that the tech was some kind of scanner.

  “Shit,” she muttered. “If those are what I think they are, they’ll be able to tell we’re specials.”

  “I’ve got an idea.” Talon approached a closed door and used her armor’s access code to unlock it. She stepped inside and beckoned for Ink to follow. Once there, Talon fixed her gaze on her. “Take off the armor.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “If that scanner is blocking our path, maybe we can make it look like a prisoner escort.”

  Ink sighed and disengaged the locks on her armor. She removed the various components until she stood there in the orange, prison jumpsuit. Talon reached for a compartment on her belt and drew a pair of shackles that she affixed to Ink’s wrists.

  “Not sure why I gotta play the prisoner.”

  “Because it was my idea.”

  Ink rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  Talon took her by the arm and pulled her from the storage closet. They walked up to the security checkpoint and stood at the exit. The uniformed woman inside the booth looked up from her console at them.

  “What’s going on here?”

  “Inhibitor malfunction,” said Talon, the helmet’s modulator disguising her voice. “Taking her to receiving to get it sorted out.”

  The technician checked the logs then shook her head. “I’m sorry, but there
’s nothing of record.”

  “Check out the logs for this prisoner, she’s supposed to be down with Dr. Azarov right now but her inhibitor started acting up. Now if you want me to go tell him that you’re holding up his research because of some technicality…”

  “N-no, you’re right!” The technician entered some commands into the console. Talon pulled Ink into the scanner and after a moment, the field dropped. They walked on, going from the checkpoint and up to a door labeled RECEIVING.

  “You ready for this?” asked Talon.

  “Don’t really got much of a choice, do we?” asked Ink.

  Talon shook her head. “No, guess we don’t.” She used her armor’s access codes and the door slid open with a hiss. Talon grabbed Ink by the arm and pulled her inside.

  The door shut behind them.

  CHAPTER 9

  Glass shattered. Gunsmith hung in the air for a moment just outside Bradshaw’s office, Blindside flickering into view after she’d just kicked him through the window. Gunsmith looked down and saw just what a steep drop it was. But fortunately, his armor had gone through some upgrades since the last time he fought the Hellhounds.

  At a cybernetic command, modular components on his back moved around, sliding into place. A hidden jetpack activated, steadying him in the air. He drew his handheld teleforce blasters and aimed them at Blindside, pulling the triggers.

  Blindside rolled and flipped to dodge the blasts, jumping out the hole where once was a window. In the air, her jetpack kicked into gear as well and she reactivated the invisibility cloak to hide her from view.

  She moved fast. Before Gunsmith had a chance to switch to infrared, Blindside slammed into him, her powerful gauntlets nearly tearing his head from his neck. He flipped back, the jetpack sending him in a continuous rotation. Gunsmith managed to right himself, but not in time to stop a kick that threw him from the air completely.