Vanguard: The Complete Second Season: A Superhero Serial (Vanguard: The Collected Seasons Book 2)

by Percival Constantine

  “And you think Callus is that person.”

  Jim glanced at Zukov. “Would seem to fit, don’t you agree?”

  Zukov sat forward, elbows on the armrests and his hands interlocked with his chin resting on his fingers. “So what do we do now?”

  “You still have contacts in the FSB, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Reach out to them, see what you can find out about Nathan Callus, Cerberus, anything that we may not be aware of.”

  Zukov sat up. “That’s quite a tall order.”

  “Never said I liked to do things the easy way.”

  ***

  April Roque entered her office on the carrier and shut the door, locking it behind her. She sat at her desk and turned on the computer, placing a secure call to the Olympus space station. The face of Director Nathan Callus appeared on the screen.

  “We have Clarence Black,” she said.

  “Excellent work, Agent Roque,” said Callus.

  “Not quite. It wasn’t my team who found him, but Jim Ellis and Abram Zukov.”

  Callus paused. “Did he say anything?”

  “Ellis let slip that Black said some information that deserves further investigation. When I pressed him on it, he fed me some crap about being worried that the Red Fist was rebuilding.”

  Callus sighed. “We can’t let those two figure out what we’ve been doing. I want you to keep a close eye on both Ellis and Zukov. These men are dangerous to our interests and our mission.”

  “Yessir.”

  “I also have another job for you. A special I need picked up. I’m transmitting the dossier now.”

  “The Hellhounds will be ready,” said Roque. “Don’t worry, Director Callus. I’ll kill Jim Ellis myself if I have to.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Jim knocked on the door before opening it. He approached the old man sitting in front of the window in a wheelchair, staring out over the well-manicured lawn of the retirement home.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  Wayne Ellis turned his head and gave a smile. Jim grew up idolizing his dad, the big war hero. Enlisted to make him proud. But the past several years hadn’t been kind to Wayne, his once-strong body was quickly withering away.

  “Jimbo!” Wayne’s face brightened up with a smile and Jim walked over, bending down to give his father a hug. He pulled a chair from a small table nearby and sat beside Wayne. “What brings you here?”

  “Thought I’d come and see how you’re doing,” said Jim. “Some things are happening at work that are making me wonder if I made the right decision.”

  Wayne sighed. “Now listen to me, son. Sometimes, you just gotta do the job. I know you don’t like working at that movie theater, but you’re gonna need that money for prom.”

  “The theater…?” Jim sighed and shook his head. “No, Dad. That was when I was in high school. I haven’t worked at the theater in years.”

  Wayne frowned. “Did you quit? C’mon, boy. Thought I raised you better than to be a quitter.”

  Jim reached out and gripped his father’s hand. “Dad, I’m not a teenager anymore. I graduated high school, remember? Then I went into the service. Just like you.”

  Wayne’s face seemed to go completely blank for a few moments, but then he gave a few blinks. “That’s right. I remember now.”

  “That’s good,” said Jim. “How are you doing here? They treating you well?”

  “Oh yeah, they’re great. Tomorrow’s movie night.”

  Jim gave a half-smile. “Good to hear.”

  “What’s this problem you’re having at work?”

  Jim sat back in his chair and stared out the window. “I think they might not be on the level. Involved in some shady dealings.”

  “Then you gotta find another job.”

  Jim chuckled. “Not so simple. Whatever they’re up to, I think I’m the only one who can stop it. I just have to figure out how.”

  “Y’know, your mother made the world’s greatest spaghetti and meatballs.”

  Jim had learned to deal with his father’s sudden shifts in topics. His mind wasn’t what it used to be and he had difficulty keeping track of a conversation.

  “Yeah…” Jim had a half-hearted smile on his face as he reached over and patted his father’s liver-spotted hand. “She sure did.”

  “You think so too, huh?” Wayne’s smile remained on his face and he leaned closer with some effort, beckoning his son closer with a slight twitch of his fingers. “Hey Jimbo, why don’t you ask her if she can make it tonight? I know she wants me to cut back on red meat, but if you ask her to make it, she probably will. She could never say no to you.”

  Jim’s eyelids felt heavy and the smile faded from his face. “I-I can’t do that, Dad.”

  “Oh come on!” said Wayne, his voice nearly taking on a whine. “A little bit of ground beef’s not gonna kill me!”

  “No, Dad…don’t you remember? About Mom?”

  Wayne’s smile now turned into a look of worry. “What about her? She’s okay, ain’t she?”

  “Dad…Mom’s gone. For almost five years now.”

  “Oh…” Wayne looked away, staring at a framed photograph of his wife on his dresser. “I must’ve forgotten…”

  “It’s okay, Dad.”

  “I just…I forget things sometimes, Jimbo. Ain’t my fault…” Wayne covered his eyes with a hand.

  Jim stood and stepped to the side of his father’s chair, laying a reassuring hand on Wayne’s shoulder. “I know, I know.”

  “But!” Wayne suddenly had some spark in him again and a smile came on his face. “Don’t you worry, kiddo. I’m not gonna forget about your game this weekend. Promise I’ll be there, front an’ center.”

  “Yeah…I know you will.” Jim sighed and hugged his father, trying to hold in his emotions. “Gonna score a touchdown just for you, Pop.”

  “That’s my boy.”

  Jim felt a buzzing in his pocket. He pulled his phone from his jeans and looked at the message summary on the lock screen. SENDER UNAVAILABLE was all it told him about who the message came from. Jim unlocked his phone and went into his messages. The only thing it said was, “DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU’RE WORKING FOR?”

  Jim typed out a quick response with his thumb, inquiring about the sender’s identity and hit SEND. Almost instantly, a response came: “NOT SECURE. I’LL CONTACT YOU LATER.”

  He put the phone back in his pocket and looked down at his father. “Sorry, Dad. I gotta get going.”

  “Okay. Oh, and don’t forget your Mom’s birthday is coming up soon.”

  Jim sighed. He bent down and kissed the bald portion atop Wayne’s head, where the hair had receded. “Yeah, yeah I’ll remember. Got it marked on my calendar.”

  ***

  Anita Jordan stepped inside her Brooklyn apartment and closed the door, locking it behind her. She dropped the keys on the table by the door and walked inside, nearly collapsing on the couch. She looked at her phone, the time was after three in the morning.

  Ever since Vanguard disbanded, she’d begun working as an EMT. The hours were all over the place, but she didn’t really have much of a social life to begin with. Her mother was still living in Baltimore and while Anita considered moving closer to her, she also felt like she needed to be on her own.

  Anita rested her head on the couch’s armrest, her eyelids growing heavy. But then she felt something. A feeling that she wasn’t alone. Anita sat up and rubbed her eyes. She couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, making her wonder if she was just imagining things.

  She stood, closing her eyes and concentrating. As Paragon, Anita possessed telekinetic abilities that enhanced her strength to superhuman levels, gave her the power of flight, and projected a field around her body that made her nigh-invulnerable. The mental nature of her abilities also gave her a kind of psychic sensitivity, something she worked to develop after she was mentally controlled by the Analyst.

  There was definitely someone else in the room. She could now pick u
p the psychic reverberations of another person. But they were invisible to the naked eye. Anita tried to zero in on the location and once she found it, she flew at her window and threw a punch at what seemed to be empty air.

  But her fist connected with a face and was followed by a thump as the target struck the wall. The light ceased bending around the invader’s suit and Blindside stood in front of Anita.

  “How’d you know I was there?” she asked.

  Anita tapped her forehead.

  “Right, we should’ve assumed that,” said Blindside. “Too bad it won’t be enough to save you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said Anita. “Now get the hell out of my apartment.”

  Blindside gave a smirk beneath her mask. “How about you make me?”

  Anita flew at Blindside, but she quickly went invisible and used her enhanced speed to side-step the attack so that Anita’s arms grabbed nothing but air. Blindside circled around her and thrust her foot into Anita’s back, the suit’s strength enough for the special to feel the blow.

  Though she initially used her powers to find Blindside, Anita had to concentrate to do so. That was something she struggled with when her invisible attacker moved silently and swiftly around her, delivering quick, surgical blows.

  Anita lunged for the window, shooting through it. Her only option was to put some distance between her and Blindside so that she could concentrate and locate the attacker. And though Blindside’s capabilities were impressive, Anita assumed flight wasn’t among them.

  But the special quickly learned that Blindside wasn’t alone. She picked up a new signature just before it struck her from above with a thunderous blow. Anita plummeted, striking the roof of a building below her so hard that it left cracks in the stone.

  Her attacker, Bruiser, crashed down beside her, the building quaking on his impact. Bruiser grabbed her by the hair and jumped from the roof. At the apex of his leap, he hurled Anita with all the strength he could muster. She fell fast, hitting the empty street.

  Pain shot across her entire body, but still she tried to pull herself to her feet. Anita looked up but saw no trace of Bruiser. She tried to concentrate to find him, when electricity flowed through her body and she went into spasms.

  Spark cut off her attack and Anita fell to her knees. Once Spark got within reach, Anita shot up with a blow that knocked the Hellhound off her feet. Anita tried to push through the pain. She’d already been tired after a long shift and now this. Anita had been pushed to her limits and she couldn’t take on all three of these attackers at once.

  The only sensible thing was to retreat. Anita took off towards the sky, but she felt the temperature drop. Almost instantly, she was encased in a block of ice that caused her to drop like a stone back to the street. Coldsnap stood on a rooftop ledge, looking down at her.

  Zero and Blindside stepped from the shadows and approached Anita. Zero held up his arm and an inhibitor shot out from his gauntlet. It struck Anita’s head and the feedback caused her to fall unconscious.

  Blindside stepped over to her, staring down at their new prisoner. “I’m a little disappointed. I hoped the great Paragon would put up more of a fight.”

  CHAPTER 7

  The piercing ring of his cell phone caused Jim to stir in his sleep. He grumbled, burying his face in the pillow in futile attempts to block out the sound. Rolling onto his back, he opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. He sat up and reached over for the phone. An incoming call from a blocked number.

  “Ellis,” he said, answering it.

  “We’ve got a problem,” said the voice on the other end. It was garbled and unnatural, which meant the caller was using some kind of voice synthesizer to disguise their identity.

  “Who is this?”

  “A friend.”

  “Most of my friends are dead,” said Jim.

  “Not all of them.”

  Jim blinked and thought about who could possibly be capable of this. He didn’t want to risk blowing their identity in the event that the line was being monitored. “Is it secure?”

  “Seems like it, but you can never be too careful.”

  “Understood. So why don’t you tell me what that text was all about?”

  “I hoped we’d have more time to develop a plan, but Callus’ recent actions are forcing us to speed things up.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Jim. “What’s Callus up to?”

  “I know about the questions you and your partner have been asking. And if you’re not careful, Callus will target you next.”

  “So it’s true, Callus is using specials for illegal operations,” said Jim.

  “More than that. He’s been rounding them up. You gave him Pyre and his strike team recently took out a colony of specials on an island in the Pacific.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “After specials first appeared, Callus made it known to the Hayworth Administration that they posed both the greatest risk and greatest benefit to the security of the United States. No different from any other type of arms.”

  “That’s why he’s rounding them up,” said Jim. “He’s stockpiling weapons.”

  “Check your email, I’ve just sent you some encrypted data. Make sure your partner sees this, too.”

  Jim climbed out of bed, keeping the phone to his ear as he walked into the next room and sat at his desk. He opened his laptop and started it up. Once his email client was active, a new message waited. Jim clicked on it and saw what his mysterious informant was talking about.

  “This is where he’s keeping them?”

  “At least this one. There could be others,” said the voice.

  Jim recognized the location. “I’ve been here. This is where we dropped off Pyre. Are you sure about this?”

  “International waters, miles from civilization. And there’s more. Earlier tonight, they acquired a new prisoner. One you’re familiar with.”

  “Who?” asked Jim.

  “Anita Jordan.”

  Jim nearly dropped the phone at the mention of Paragon’s real name, but he didn’t want to reveal too much about himself or her. “Why do you think I’d be familiar with her?”

  “Because I know all about you, Gunsmith. You and the rest of Vanguard.”

  “Who is this?” asked Jim.

  The line went dead.

  Jim sighed and looked at the phone, double-checking to make sure the call had ended. He dialed a number in his contact list and when the phone was answered, the Russian voice on the other end was just as groggy as he’d been.

  “Abram, sorry to wake you,” said Jim. “But we’ve got a problem.”

  “What’s this about?” asked Zukov.

  “I’m sending something to your email. It looks like Pyre was right—Callus is using specials for his own purposes.”

  “Where did you get this?”

  “They wouldn’t tell me who they are. But I think it’s on the level. And more than that, they’ve got one of my former teammates.”

  “Slow down, Jim. We don’t know anything about where you got this information. All we have to go on are some ramblings from a man whose mind has been toyed with and an anonymous informant. This could all be a trap.”

  “If it is, then Paragon’s already in it. I don’t have a choice, I have to do something about this.”

  “But we’re just two men. Even with your armor…”

  “You’re not coming.”

  “Believe me, I don’t want to. But I also can't let my partner do this alone.”

  “If you want to help, then I need you to take this information and anything else you can dig up directly to the Security Council.”

  “And you think they’ll believe me?” asked Zukov.

  “That combined with what I’m going to discover on the ship will be more than enough proof.”

  Zukov sighed. “But you’re still going in alone. Cerberus will treat you as an enemy combatant. Your armor’s impressive, but even you can’t fight an army.”
/>   “I know, that’s why I’m not going alone,” said Jim.

  ***

  Jim stood atop a building in New York City, clad in the Gunsmith armor. His eyepiece displayed the time and it showed that his contact was running late. Although he couldn’t really express any surprise at that. Jim opened the panel on his gauntlet to scan the location and the eyepiece flashed a notification.

  When Jim turned around, he saw a man emerge from the shadows, dressed all in black. His dark hair hung down to his chin and he wore a mask that covered the lower portion of his face, and strips of leather hung from his shoulders to form a kind of cape. But the strangest thing about the man were his eyes, which were pitch-black.

  “What’s with the cloak and dagger routine?” asked Dominic Vaughn, his eyes reverting to normal.

  “Good to see you, too,” said Jim.

  “We here to talk business or catch up?”

  Dom—or Wraith as he’d been called in Vanguard—wasn’t one for smalltalk. Jim wasn’t too surprised. He’d asked him here on very little information for fear that Cerberus might be watching them. But with Zukov tasked with the Security Council, Jim would need back-up.

  “Business,” said Jim. “I think Callus might be using Cerberus for his own purposes. Rounding up specials.”

  “I’ll try to hide my surprise. Told you this whole thing was fishy.”

  “Looks like you were right. From what Zukov and I have uncovered, he’s got a strike team armed with some pretty powerful technology.”

  “Like you?” asked Dom.

  “From the specs I’ve seen, their suits put mine to shame,” said Jim. “That’s why I need your help.”

  Dom shook his head. “Look Ellis, I don’t hate you as much as I did when we first met. But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to sign up for some kind of suicide mission.”

  “Callus killed Thorne.”

  That gave Dom pause. He sighed and lowered his gaze.

  “I know you two didn’t exactly get along—”