“How do I do that?”
“Well, that’s actually why I’m here,” said McCabe, now turning slightly to include Victoria in the conversation. “I represent an organization that helps people like Erin learn to master their abilities.”
***
Koji Asano dove beneath the pacific waves. Since the incident in Waikiki a few months earlier, he’d learned to cope with his newfound abilities. Koji had discovered almost all his senses had been enhanced to superhuman proportions.
That was only the first step. When he finally left the hospital, having grown accustomed to the new senses, he returned to his work as a surfing instructor. A particularly strong wave knocked him off his board and while he was under the water, he noticed something strange.
He wasn’t holding his breath. In fact, he was breathing as normal.
Koji had since noticed other changes. He started to feel a…craving whenever he was beneath the waves. Particularly a craving for seafood. Koji had memories of growing up in Hawaii, trying to catch fish by hand when he’d see them while swimming. They were always too fast for him, or if he had managed to grab them, too slippery. Now though, he found he could move far quicker than them, even maintain a firm grip.
In his dives, Koji had noticed a shift in his physiology. His skin had become gray, not to mention shiny—almost leathery. Claws appeared at the edges of his fingers and he was able to tear into live fish without any difficulty. It was a temporary transformation, and so far he’d only managed to make the change while in the water.
Koji swam to the surface, bursting through the water. He’d shifted back from his shark-form and now swam towards the shore. Once he reached the shallow area, he stood and walked the rest of the way. An older man with a thin white beard stood on the shore watching him. The man wore swimming trunks, a Hawaiian floral shirt, and a fisherman’s cap, with sunglasses and a white nose indicating the application of zinc.
“Something you need, Grandpa?” asked Koji.
“Actually, I was hoping to speak to you,” said the man. “My name’s Howard McCabe.”
Koji picked up his towel and patted himself dry. “Yeah well, if you want a surfing lesson, I’m not so sure you could handle it. No offense.”
“I tried surfing once when I was younger,” said McCabe. “Couldn’t stay up for more than a few seconds.”
“So what do you want?”
“How’d you like a drink?” asked McCabe. “My treat.”
Koji wiped the water from his face and stared at the elder man for a few moments. Then he smiled and said, “sure, why not? I could use one.”
“Good,” said McCabe. The two men walked from the waterfront to a small hut on the beach where a bartender was on duty. McCabe spoke first. “Can I get a Mai Tai? And for my friend here…?”
“Rum and Coke, don’t skimp on the lime,” said Koji.
The bartender nodded. “You got it, Koji.”
“Must be nice, living out here,” said McCabe.
Koji shrugged. “Guess I never really thought about it. Parents came here before I was born. Hawaii’s pretty much the only home I’ve ever known.”
The drinks arrived and McCabe paid the bartender, plus a healthy tip. He held up his glass. “Cheers.”
The edge of Koji’s lip raised slightly and he clinked his glass against McCabe’s. “It’s not often some old dude buys me a drink. Just so we’re clear, I don’t swing that way.”
“Hah!” McCabe sipped his Mai Tai. “Don’t worry, Mr. Asano. You’re not exactly my type.”
“Good,” said Koji. The bartender gave him two lime wedges instead of one and he squeezed them both into his drink, then left them on the counter before tipping back his glass.
“Actually, I’m more interested in something that happened a few months back. In a Mexican restaurant,” said McCabe.
Koji stopped mid-sip and lowered his glass. He glanced down at his hand, flexing his very-human fingers. “What about it?”
“I know about you, son. About how you slept in a sensory deprivation tank for close to a month. About how you’re more comfortable in water than on land.”
Koji slammed down his glass and stood. “Who the hell are you? What do you want?”
McCabe lifted his hands, palms towards Koji, fingers held up. “Easy, son. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”
“Got a funny way of showing it,” said Koji.
“How about we go for a walk?” asked McCabe. “If you don’t like what I have to offer, then you never have to see me again. How does that sound?”
Koji looked down at the older man for a few moments. He was almost ready to start a fight here. But he knew that would be a mistake, so he took deep breaths to calm himself down.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s talk.”
***
Dominic Vaughn stepped from the shadows into his penthouse apartment on Manhattan’s Park Avenue. He was dressed all in black, including a mask to disguise his features. The jewel thief reached for the mask and pulled it off, smoothing down the jet-black hair that reached just past his chin. He reached for his belt, where a small satchel hung and removed it. Upon opening it, he placed his gloved hand inside, feeling the uncut diamonds contained within.
“Good evening, Mr. Vaughn.”
Dominic spun, but saw no one. The voice sounded like it was altered by a voice modulator of some kind. It was tinny and unearthly. He stepped closer to the wall and hit the switch, but nothing happened. Dominic tried the switch a few more times, still to no avail. Instead, he took the small flashlight attached to his belt and turned it on, shining the light around the room.
“You won’t find me that way, Mr. Vaughn. Mostly because I am not really here.”
“Who are you?” asked Dominic, rapidly turning from side to side, flashing the light wherever he could.
“A friend. Or at least, I hope that is what you will consider me.”
“Yeah well, friends don’t break into friends’ houses and stay hidden like a coward.”
“But I already told you, Mr. Vaughn. I am not in the room with you.”
Dominic stepped backwards, slowly. He knew every square inch of his apartment, and so stepping to the right to avoid the white leather couch in his living room as he backed towards the balcony window was second nature.
Light filled the room once the television turned on, and Dominic stood right in front of it when it did. The sudden brightness dazed him and he raised his arms to block out the light, tripping as he did so and falling onto the glass coffee table with a loud crash. Dominic sat up, brushing the broken shards from his body, and he saw nothing but white static on the large television screen.
“I apologize for this slightly impersonal introduction, Mr. Vaughn. Unfortunately, you are a very difficult man to get ahold of. Especially given your extra-curricular activities.”
“
Dominic quickly moved to the television, pulling the plug from the power outlet. The TV went dark. Then a ringtone came from another room, specifically Dominic’s study. He rushed to that room and on the desk perched in a charging station was his cell phone, and the display showed an incoming call from an unknown number. Dominic answered the phone and slowly brought it to his ear.
“Mr. Vaughn, it does not need to be this way. We can speak face to face. I believe that would be easier on both of us.”
“What do you want?” asked Dominic.
“Just to talk.”
“Where are you?”
“Go to the balcony.”
Dominic lowered the phone, but kept it in his hand. He opened one of his desk drawers and took a small pistol, holding it carefully as he returned to the living room. He aimed the gun at the doors and raised the phone to his ear. “Okay, I’m there.”
“Come out onto the balcony, Mr. Vaughn. Please.”
Dominic cautiously moved closer and closer to the large doors. With the phone still held in his hand, he unlatched the door and pushed it open, still pointing the gun forw
ard. Dominic moved onto the balcony and turned from side to side, aiming the gun the whole time.
He was alone.
“What is this, some sort of sick joke?”
“Not at all, Mr. Vaughn.”
That inhuman voice came through not only the phone, but Dominic could hear it nearby. From above. There was a bright, blue glow and he turned his head upward. Hovering above was some sort of metal, humanoid being. Its reflective, chrome frame was highlighted by glowing blue lights, particularly the eyes, but it had no mouth that Dominic could make out. The strange robot landed on the balcony right in front of him.
“Good evening, Mr. Vaughn,” it said. “My name is—”
Dominic opened fire, emptying the small gun’s ammunition. The bullets had no effect and the strange being just looked down at itself, and then back at Dominic.
“That was rude.” It reached out and took the gun from Dominic, crushing it in its hand like it were paper. “As I was saying before your interruption, my name is Zenith. And I am here to—”
Dominic darted back inside the apartment. Zenith sighed and followed. “Mr. Vaughn, please, I am not going to hurt you.”
With the shadows as cover, Dominic vanished into nothing. Zenith raised his arm, generating a small orb of electricity and used it to illuminate the apartment. His sensors moved around but could find no traces of any lifeforms. But there was a strange form of energy present.
***
Dominic appeared on the roof of the building adjacent to his, stepping from the shadows. He chuckled a bit at his good fortune at having escaped the strange robot. Just what was that thing anyway? Why was it after him?
“Mr. Vaughn.”
Dominic froze as he heard that same, bizarre voice coming from behind him. “No, this can’t be happening…”
“I am not here to hurt you, Mr. Vaughn, I promise you that,” said Zenith. “But I need—”
“Get! Away!” Dominic spun on his heel and held out his hand. Some sort of ebon energy fired from his palm, completely engulfing Zenith. The blast had no effect, but Zenith could detect something odd in the energy. Dominic’s eyes went pitch-black when he fired and once the blast ceased, they returned to normal.
“What…what the hell just happened?” he asked, staring dumbfounded at his hand.
“It would seem that your abilities extends beyond mere teleportation.” Zenith rose from over the edge of the building, hovering closer towards Dominic. Once he landed, Zenith raised his arm, pointing it at Dominic. Almost instantly, parts around the arm shifted, until it formed into a small cannon with some form of energy crackling around the barrel.
“I do not wish to hurt you, Mr. Vaughn. But I grow weary of these attacks on my person when all I want to do is talk.”
“Talk about what?” asked Dominic.
“About what has happened to you, about what you can do, and about how I can help you,” said Zenith.
Dominic chuckled. “Yeah right, help me. I’m young, rich, and have superpowers. How the hell can you help me?”
“I know all about you, Mr. Vaughn.” Zenith lowered his arm, the cannon shifting back into his hand. He slowly approached the dark-haired man. “I’ve been monitoring reports of jewel heists all over the world. Security systems being mysteriously circumvented. No signs of forced entry, or any entry for that matter. The only evidence that a crime even occurred being the missing jewels.”
“What does that have to do with me?” asked Dominic.
“I managed to investigate some of these sites. There is an unknown form of energy lingering in the atmosphere. I found a way to track it, and thus, it led me to the apartment of one Dominic Vaughn, son of wealthy investor Michael Vaughn. I’ve done research on you, Mr. Vaughn. Thrill-seeking is something of a hobby of yours, is it not? And what greater thrill can one get than theft?”
Dominic shook his head. “You can’t prove shit.”
“As a matter of fact, I can,” said Zenith. “And now that I have analyzed your energy signature, it would only be a matter of time before I am able to circumvent it and neutralize your means of teleportation.”
Dominic slowly backed away from the robot. “So what is it you want, huh?”
“I am not acting alone, Mr. Vaughn. I work with certain people who are quite interested in your unique abilities,” said Zenith. “They propose a partnership.”
Dominic was close to the shadows now. Once he moved inside them, he would be able to transport himself somewhere else. But he knew if he tried, this thing would just follow him again. Just like before. His only opportunity was to hear the robot out.
“What’s in it for me?”
“Well for one, the evidence I have linking you to your crimes will never be unearthed,” said Zenith. “And two, the type of partnership they propose would no doubt lead to the sort of excitement a man such as yourself craves.”
***
“Just so we’re clear on the nature of your report, Lieutenant…” The man who sat at the table in front of Anita Jordan had a higher rank than she’d ever seen before, at least up close and personal. He and two other superior officers sat at a long, wooden table in an otherwise empty room and Anita stood in front of them, in military dress uniform.
“According to your statement, your convoy was attacked by militants. No survivors, but somehow you came out unharmed. You then awoke in captivity, a prisoner of some warlord who called himself the Kurgan.”
“Actually sir, he referred to himself as the Khagan,” said Anita. Smart, she told herself. Correct the man whose job it is to decide whether or not you committed treason.
He stared at her over the rims of his small glasses, the light from above shining off his bald head. “Yes, the Khagan. A man who leads an organization called the Red Fist. An organization which, mind you, we have no record of and has a base of operations inside of a hollowed-out mountain.”
“I never said it was hollowed out—”
“You will only speak when you are given permission, Lieutenant, do I make myself clear?”
Anita shut her mouth and nodded.
“So this Khagan, he shoots you and nothing happens. The bullet somehow flattens against your body. He invites you to join his organization, you refuse and he orders your death. Without any sort of body armor or cover, you are able to withstand the force of several enemy combatants firing on you with automatic weapons and even managed to survive an attack from a rocket launcher by, and I quote, ‘flying through the roof of the fortress.’”
The officer shut the file and removed his glasses. “This has got to be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read in my entire life.”
“It’s all true,” said Anita.
The officer turned to the other two men at the table. Both of them held similar skeptical visages. One of them, who still had hair, leaned forward, folding his hands and laying them on the table.
“Put yourself in our shoes. What seems more likely? That someone of your background—”
“My father was Muslim and he’s been dead for ten years,” said Anita.
“Betrayed her squadron to terrorist forces within Afghanistan—”
“And I should also remind you that I am an American citizen by birth,” she continued.
“And has been caught and comes up with some outrageous tale of secret societies and—”
“If she betrayed her squad, why would she return? And why wouldn’t she have a better cover story?”
The men at the table had incredulous looks and were staring past her. Anita turned as well and at the door saw a man in uniform with a silver mustache, hands clasped behind his back.
“You’re not authorized to be in here, this is a closed session,” said the man at the center of the table.
The newcomer walked past Anita and took a folded piece of paper from his inside pocket. He handed it to the man in the center. “Colonel Leonard Thorne. This order from the Commander in Chief says I have every right to be in this room, and that this case is now under my pur
view.”
The man in the center stared up at Thorne, his brows arched. “You can bet I’m going to follow up on this.”
“Be my guest. In fact…” Thorne reached inside his pocket and took out a cell phone. “You can use my phone.”
***
Thorne closed the door after the three officers left. He walked to the front of the room and leaned on the edge of the table. “Sorry about that whole thing. Guys like that find it hard to believe what else is really out there.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I have no idea what’s going on here,” said Anita. “Things went crazy in Afghanistan, then once I return to my base and submit my report, I’m immediately whisked away back to the States and then thrown in front of those three? This wasn’t an investigative hearing, this was an interrogation, wasn’t it?”
Thorne nodded. “It was. Truth be told, they would have interrogated you at some blacksite if they had their way. We were able to get you back over here, but they got to you before I could arrive.”
Anita sighed and closed her eyes. “Just tell me, please, what is going on?”
“The world’s different, Lt. Jordan. Things are changing rapidly, and things are going to come to light soon, things that we’ve spent the better part of the past year trying to keep secret, at least as long as it takes us to make preparations.”
“Preparations for what?” asked Anita.
“You’ve been through quite an ordeal, and the last thing I want to do is to add to it,” said Thorne. “I’m sure you’d like nothing more than an honorable discharge and return to civilian life, find work as a doctor somewhere, am I right?”
Anita nodded. “After what happened over there, I’d say that’s a pretty sound assessment. All this happened against my will, and now I’m being held under suspicion simply because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Thorne turned slightly and picked up one of the folders left behind. He opened it and flipped through the details of Anita’s report and, without looking up at her, said, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Vanguard: Seasons 1-3: A Superhero Adventure Page 5
