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

by Percival Constantine

  Sparks flew as the machinery was ruined. And in the cages, the specials felt their abilities returning to them. Anita reached for her neck and tugged at the collar, rending it into scrap. She smiled and gripped the bars, pulling them apart enough for her to step through.

  ***

  On the deck, Gunsmith was at the mercy of Zero. The assassin had his knees on each of Gunsmith’s stretched-out arms. There was only one chance to escape and he wasn’t sure it would even work.

  The grapple in Gunsmith’s gauntlet shot out, latching onto the remains of one of the ships he’d destroyed with the Icarus. When the grapple retracted, Gunsmith was pulled out from under Zero, just as the assassin brought down his claws and scraped them on the deck.

  Gunsmith released the grapple and got up to his feet. But then something hit him from behind. And then again in front. And in every direction. His legs were then encased in a block of solid ice and he couldn’t move one bit.

  Coldsnap stepped from the shadows with Spark by his side. Zero joined them and flickering into view was Blindside, deactivating her cloak. And then another man joined them. Gunsmith struggled against the ice, but no use. Nathan Callus regarded him with a sneer.

  “I’m very disappointed in you, Ellis. You had a chance to be part of something greater than yourself. To stand up for your race.”

  “I’m not going to stand by and let you use people—one of my friends, no less—as your personal slaves,” said Gunsmith. He heard Wraith’s voice over his comm-link and knew what was coming. Just had to stall Callus for a few moments.

  “People.” Callus scoffed. “You’d throw in with these freaks of nature.”

  “They’re no different from us,” said Gunsmith. “Maybe if you’d done the research, you’d know that the Event changed everyone. The gene may be dormant in us, but it’s there all the same.”

  “And just what did you expect to gain by this one-man assault?” asked Callus.

  “Because it’s not a one-man assault,” said Gunsmith. “I’m just the distraction.”

  Almost on cue, a portal opened on the deck, courtesy of the Ferryman. Callus and the Hellhounds spun to see the captive specials standing there, the collars no longer around their necks.

  “Take ‘em out,” said Wraith. And the battle began.

  As the Hellhounds and the remainder of the Cerberus soldiers fought the specials, Anita flew over to Gunsmith’s side. She bent down and drove her powerful fist into the ice, breaking it into shards. He kicked off what remained and nodded his thanks to her.

  “Wish we could’ve met again under better circumstances,” she said.

  “What, this isn’t good enough for you?” asked Gunsmith with a grin.

  ***

  Pyre dove at Coldsnap, who brought his arms up and unleashed a torrent of ice. Pyre countered it with a fiery jet-stream from his palms, the two nearly canceling each other out. But whereas Pyre’s powers were natural, Coldsnap’s were technologically based and that technology had its limits. He was already pushing his suit to the limits of its power consumption, yet Pyre’s heat continued to rain down upon him. The suit sputtered out and Coldsnap was engulfed in Pyre’s flames. The material of the suit protected his body, but he could do little else to fight back.

  Tuwa’s tremors kept Spark off her feet and Zephyr battered her with powerful winds. Without any sort of footing or the ability to aim, Spark’s electric bursts just flew harmlessly around. Zephyr killed her winds for just a moment, enough time for Fuerte to deliver the final blow, a punch with so much force that it almost took off the Hellhound’s head.

  Gunsmith rejoined the battle with Zero, now getting used to the assassin’s movements. He deflected the blade strikes and delivered strategic shots with his blasters when he could. But it was the sudden appearance of Wraith that caught Zero off-guard. The former thief appeared behind him, using his shadow blasts to engulf Zero and leave the man a quivering mess, huddled into the fetal position.

  Blindside was another matter, though. With her invisibility cloak, it made it impossible for Paragon to get a proper bead on her. Paragon rose into the air instead and shut her eyes, trying to concentrate hard on her powers. This was the only chance she would have to locate the woman and she had to try and pick her out from the sheer number of people onboard the deck. Even amidst all the chaos it was difficult, but finally Paragon located her. She shot down to the deck like a rocket, slamming into Blindside with such force that the impact left a small crater.

  The Hellhounds were finished, their unconscious bodies lying around the deck of the ship. Pyre and Zephyr were ready to take it a step further, but Gunsmith held up his weapons.

  “Kill them and you’ll be next,” he said.

  “Are you out of your damn mind?” asked Zephyr.

  “He’s right,” said Paragon, flying over to Gunsmith’s side. “It’s not how we do things.”

  “We’re not you,” said Pyre.

  “You have no idea what they put us through for months,” said Zephyr. “We’re not just going to let them walk away.”

  “I’ll handle the rest,” said Gunsmith. “And be grateful that I’m letting you go free.”

  Pyre grumbled but shot up into the sky without another word. Zephyr stood her ground and then Wraith and the rest of the specials sidled up beside Gunsmith and Paragon. If she wanted to push the issue, she’d have to take on all of them.

  “To hell with this.” Zephyr raised herself with her aerokinesis and flew off over the Atlantic.

  “That takes care of that,” said Wraith, looking at Gunsmith. “So what happens now?”

  “Now Callus is going to—” Gunsmith stopped and looked around the deck. “Dammit.”

  “What?” asked Paragon.

  “Callus must’ve escaped during the fight,” said Gunsmith. “Can’t find any trace of him.”

  “Cerberus will probably send a clean-up crew here soon. No doubt this caught some attention,” said Wraith. He looked at the wreckage of the Icarus. “And we don’t have a ride.”

  “I can take care of that,” said the Ferryman. “Get you all somewhere safe.”

  Gunsmith nodded. “Do that. I’ll stay.”

  “What?” asked Paragon. “But why? They’ll pin this on you!”

  Gunsmith shook his head. “This was just one part of the job. By now, Zukov will have presented all the evidence we gathered on Callus’ operation. He’ll be on the run and someone will have to answer questions about what happened here.”

  “You sure about this?” asked Wraith.

  “Go. I got this.”

  Wraith nodded and he and Paragon joined the rest of the specials. The Ferryman opened a portal for them all and they walked through it, the portal closing after they passed.

  Gunsmith looked up in the air and saw planes approaching. He holstered his weapons and lowered himself to his knees, clasping his hands behind his head.

  EPILOGUE

  Jim Ellis stepped from the shuttle and into the airlock of the Olympus space station. He was helped out of his space suit and then escorted from the airlock up to the command deck. One man stood in the center of the bustle of activity, with operatives milling about in Cerberus uniforms. Jim walked up to him and he turned to face him, holding out his hand.

  “It’s good to see you again,” said Abram Zukov. Jim shook his former partner’s hand and smiled at him.

  “I can’t believe they appointed you the interim Director of Cerberus,” said Jim.

  Zukov gave a nod and turned. “Apparently my record speaks for itself. Especially in light of all the information we provided on Callus’ illegal activities. Although I was surprised they didn’t offer you the job given your role in exposing him.”

  Jim smiled. “Who says they didn’t?”

  Zukov looked at him in surprise and Jim just gave a knowing wink. They both looked out at Earth through the observation window.

  “Not really my thing anyway,” said Jim. “There’s still a lot of work to be done.”
/>
  “Agreed.”

  “Any word on Callus?”

  “No, he’s still in the wind. But that’s not why I called you here.” Zukov turned to Jim, his demeanor becoming quite serious. “There’s been some unusual activity detected from Vanguard’s former base.”

  Jim looked at him in surprise. “Atlas? But it’s been decommissioned. Shut down.”

  Zukov shook his head. “That’s what we thought. But apparently we were wrong. We’ve also only begun to break into Callus’ files. It seems he’s been involved with a lot more than initially believed.”

  Jim sighed. “Guess our work’s just beginning.”

  “Indeed it is.”

  Next…Under Siege

  #8 - UNDER SIEGE

  CHAPTER 1

  A Few Months Ago

  Colonel Leonard Thorne had just arrived at his room at the Dupont Circle Hotel and found himself face to face with a rogue special. With the ability to generate intense heat and flames, Clarence Black had been called Pyre, one of the super-powered operatives of the terrorist organization called the Red Fist. He was supposed to have been captured, along with the rest of the Red Fist’s numbers.

  And yet somehow, here he was. Standing in front of Thorne. Pyre said something about Thorne pissing off the wrong people. Said he’d been sent to kill Thorne and only agreed because if he didn’t, they would kill his family.

  Thorne’s weapon was useless. He tried to pull the trigger, but the gun just clicked impotently. Now all Thorne could think of was this was the end. And worse yet, he had a pretty good idea exactly who it was who sent Pyre after him.

  Thorne and Vanguard knew that Joseph Ramsey, the Secretary of Defense, had been the Khagan’s mole inside the government. They couldn’t prove it, but it was the only explanation that made any sense.

  Vanguard had been shut down by the new President but in its place would be a global peace-keeping organization overseen by the United Nations. President Lawson was going to appoint Thorne to the position of Director, although now that seemed unlikely. Ramsey had opposed the appointment, so it only made sense that he was behind this.

  “Sorry, but it’s not my call,” said Pyre. Even through the glow of his eyes, Thorne thought he saw something like pity in those eyes. It was clear the special was being forced to do this against his will.

  Sweat dripped down Thorne’s face. His shirt clung tightly to his skin. He threw the gun at the special and ran for the door, but once he touched the metal handle, he instantly pulled his hand away. Thorne held his hand in front of his face, inspecting the burn. The room had grown too hot and it only seemed to get even warmer.

  Thorne coughed. Smoke filled the room and he fell to his knees. He covered his mouth, trying to keep it away from him. He looked up, leaning against the door and saw Pyre approaching him. The flames covered every inch of the man’s body now. Streams of fire flew into his open palms, forming into large orbs.

  Pyre’s flames extended outward. Thorne pulled back and raised his arms in a futile move to defend himself from the fire. But before they reached him, there was a sudden flash of bright, blue light that blinded him to the point where he had to shut his eyes.

  The heat in the room had been extreme, and Thorne was surprised when he realized that the temperature had decreased significantly. He didn’t feel any pain and cautiously opened his eyes. What he saw standing above him was a man whose skin was nearly translucent from the blue glow that emanated from his entire form. He reached a hand out to Thorne. The Colonel took it, allowing the special to help him to his feet. They were in another room that looked nearly identical to the one Thorne had just been in.

  “What just happened?” asked Thorne. “What are you doing here, Zenith?”

  Zenith had been an artificial intelligence with a robot body. But through a series of events, Zenith now inhabited the body of an energy-manipulating special who had fought Vanguard—a man by the name of Terrence Gibson, or Lucent.

  “I was suspicious and felt it best to follow you here. It seems I was right.” Zenith turned to the door. “Wait here, I’ll go after Pyre.”

  “No, don’t.”

  Zenith looked over his shoulder, his brow raised questioningly. “Why?”

  “Pyre said he’d been sent by someone,” said Thorne. “My guess is this has something to do with Ramsey.”

  Of course it was Ramsey. The Khagan may be imprisoned, the Red Fist now nothing more than a few scattered operatives who had—so far at least—managed to escape the reach of the law. But Ramsey was still sitting comfortably in his position at the President’s side. Still playing his own little games. And whatever those games were, Thorne knew it had a lot to do with this new organization the UN was in the process of forming.

  “Then shouldn’t we do something about it?” asked Zenith.

  “What would we do?” asked Thorne. “Ramsey clearly sees me as a threat. If he didn’t kill me this time, he’ll try again. We can’t take that risk. For the moment, we let him think he’s won.”

  Zenith folded his arms over his chest. “And Pyre? If he has information—”

  “He’s a puppet, said as much himself. And he said he didn’t know who sent him, just that it was someone high up. Even if he did know something, it’d be his word against Ramsey’s. Pyre’s a known terrorist—he was working with the Red Fist. No one’s going to believe him over the Secretary of Defense.”

  Zenith sighed and lowered his head. “So what happens next? What do we do?”

  Thorne scratched his silver-haired head. “We go back to Atlas.”

  “It’s been decommissioned. As we speak, representatives of the Pentagon are boxing up some of the most valuable equipment, such as the Icarus. How can we hope to reassemble the team?”

  “Not the whole team, let’s keep it small,” said Thorne. “We’ll need someone to help us out with the technology and since you can’t do that in your present state, that means we bring Lee Parker in, too.”

  “We can’t just leave the others out of this, Colonel,” said Zenith. “They’re our friends. They fought by our side. If Ramsey is responsible for this, then they’ll want to know about it. They deserve to know about it, especially after everything he’s been responsible for.”

  Thorne sighed. “I don’t like it, but we have to leave them out of this. If we start Vanguard up right away, Ramsey’s going to know something’s up. We have to let him think he’s won and monitor him closely. He and whoever he’s chosen as his puppet Director will slip up sooner or later. And when they do, we’ll be ready to strike.”

  CHAPTER 2

  The Present

  The black helicopter hovered over the Adirondacks. A large, red circle was painted on the surface with the silhouette of a three-headed hound inside the symbol. It descended, lowering into a clearing in the midst of several peaks.

  It seemed a strange place for a small airfield, but that’s exactly what sat there. The helicopter landed on the tarmac in front of the hangar and the blades slowed to a stop. Uniformed agents of the Cerberus agency emerged from the helicopter, dressed in black uniforms that bore the same symbol on the side of their vehicle.

  One of them held up a small palm device and reviewed the data that appeared on the screen. He shook his head. “No readings, as usual.”

  A sigh of frustration drew his attention to one of the two men who accompanied him. “Why the hell are they still bothering with this place? It’s been empty for months.”

  Munroe, the leader, shrugged and slid the palm into a pouch on his belt. “What are you whining about, Jackson? It’s a pretty cushy assignment. Take the chopper out for a spin, get some fresh mountain air, do a quick search and then we head back to base.”

  “And with the travel time, we basically kill a whole day. There are worse assignments,” said Thompson, the third man.

  Jackson shrugged. “I’m just sayin’ it’s a waste of time is all. You’d think Callus would give up on looking at this place. What the hell is so important here
anyway?”

  Munroe shrugged. “Hell if I know. I’m not paid to ask questions, just follow orders. Word around the water cooler is it used to be some kind of bunker for the top brass.”

  The three men entered the small building that led into the underground base. Munroe entered in an override code on the keypad on the wall. There was a few moments of silence as they waited for the door to open. Finally, the wall lowered, revealing an elevator.

  “Tech in here is such crap,” said Jackson. “Always takes forever for that damn door to open.”

  “Would you shut up already?” asked Thompson. “You wanna be doing paperwork or standing guard over some prisoner facility?”

  Jackson didn’t offer another word and the elevator descended in silence. The doors opened to a large room with monitors and computer consoles all around and a round table in the center. The three pulled on night-vision goggles to see in the darkened facility.

  “You know the drill, boys. Floor-by-floor sweep, then we can start heading back,” said Munroe.

  Thompson gave a nod and Jackson muttered something unintelligible under his breath. They both continued on to inspect the rest of the base. Munroe pulled out his palm device again and started another scan. He hummed to himself, walking around the darkened room and occasionally glancing back at the palm readings, but not really paying any attention to it.

  The device suddenly beeped. Munroe looked down at it in surprise. The display read, SPECIAL DETECTED. Munroe reached for the gun holstered to his thigh and held it up. He moved slowly around the room, checking in every hiding spot he could find. He looked up at the roof but saw nothing there.

  It beeped again. Munroe checked the screen instantly and now, it read, AREA CLEAR. He sighed and holstered his weapon. “Must be a glitch. Probably needs an update or something.”