Vanguard: Seasons 1-3: A Superhero Adventure

by Percival Constantine

  Thorne nodded. “Good, get to it.” He didn’t have to look at McCabe’s face to feel the disappointment that radiated off his colleague.

  CHAPTER 3

  The corporate headquarters of Low-Mart, a low-cost retail chain across the world, were located in the state of Arkansas. The spacious building was only a few stories tall, and Anita stood across the street on a higher building, wearing the red and white uniform of Paragon. The wind caused her cape, red on the outside with a white interior, to billow slightly. A crowd of protestors had gathered out in front of the Low-Mart building, many of them holding placards. Like the Big Belly protestors, they were against Low-Mart’s low wages.

  “All clear on this area.” When she spoke, her words were picked up by the tiny communicator plugged into her ear. She cast her eyes towards the clouds, expecting to see some sign of the Icarus, the team’s personal aircraft. Of course she couldn’t see it, but the pilot’s voice came through her ear.

  “I’ve been maintaining surveillance of the vicinity and can also determine no immediate threat,” said Zenith. “Shift?”

  Erin stood among the crowd, using her shapeshifting powers to assume the form of a simple girl watching the protest occur. “The people out here seem pretty pissed, but that’s it. We figured with Low-Mart always being in the news for low wages, their CEO would be next. Maybe we were wrong?”

  “Maybe,” said Paragon. “There’s no guarantee when Zephyr will attack. It could be this guy, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen today.”

  “One consideration is that she desires an audience,” said Zenith. “This would seem to fit.”

  Shift eyed some of the police who had been called in to keep the peace. They were dressed in riot gear, complete with clear shields. Just looking at them made her a little nervous. “You’re not down here, Zen. I doubt the guy will even show his face. In fact, ten bucks says he’s probably working from home today. Who’d risk it given what happened? I know I wouldn’t.”

  “Yeah, I think she’s right,” said Paragon. “Our killer’s not here.”

  High above in the Icarus, Zenith stood in the cabin, his body surrounded by holographic screens streaming a variety of black and white feeds. “Zephyr may not be here, but I have tapped into the surveillance cameras. And I can confirm that Robert Hamilton is indeed in the building today.”

  “You sure about that?” asked Paragon.

  “It is sometimes difficult to see him given the size of his bodyguards, but yes, I am certain.”

  “As long as he’s in there and those protestors are out here, we have to be prepared for any eventuality.” Paragon sat on the edge of the building, allowing her legs to dangle over the side. She started to let her mind wander, particularly to her conversation with Thorne the other day. “Hey Zenith, have you ever heard of an organization called the Red Fist?”

  “Cannot say that I have.”

  “What I mean is you’ve got access to a lot of sources, right?”

  “I do.”

  “Could you see if you can turn up anything about them?”

  “‘Red fist’ seems a fairly generic term, Paragon. Furthermore, after Wraith’s insistence I search for a seemingly innocuous term, I have become increasingly sensitive to phrases that may turn up some inappropriate results. ‘Red fist’ could fall into this category.”

  Shift scrunched her brow. “What term was that?”

  “Don’t ask,” said Paragon, shaking her head. “Zenith, the Red Fist is a terrorist organization. Their leader is a man called the Khagan.”

  “Is this the same terrorist organization you were a prisoner of?”

  “Can you do it or not?” asked Paragon.

  “I can, although perhaps it would be best to consult with Colonel Thorne. He might potentially have more information that could help perfect my search.”

  “I just want to know what you can find.”

  “Very well, I can attempt a search, but it may take some time to sift through the results.”

  “Uhh guys? Things are suddenly getting kinda heated.”

  Paragon huffed and smiled. “Don’t worry, Shift. I’m just a little stressed is all.”

  “No, I mean down here! I didn’t see what happened, but now the cops and the protestors have stopped staring each other down and are starting to act really pissed!”

  Paragon slid off the building’s edge, falling right into a hover. “Shift, get away from there now.”

  On the ground, one of the officers shouted into the face of a protestor. “I told you to back away now!”

  The protestor stood his ground. “You keep pushing back our line, we’re not moving any further than this!”

  The officer held a canister in his hand and he raised it. “I’m giving you your last warning, get back or face the consequences!”

  “We’re not letting you bully us any more!” shouted another protestor.

  “You back off!”

  The officer saw movement from the corner of his eye and immediately reacted, taking aim with the canister and firing a burst of pepper spray at one of the protestors. The crowd went insane at the attack and their shouts became louder.

  Shift let her arms drop to her sides. She was beginning to lose the form she had changed into, her skin reverting to its natural pale green color, and the sclera of her eyes turning yellow. In her ear, she still heard Paragon’s warnings.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “We can’t just let these people be harmed.”

  The pepper spray had escalated the situation and the incensed protestors were now deemed a threat by the riot police. They reacted in kind, pulling out batons, pepper spray, and tasers to pacify the crowd. Shift held out both arms and her fingers elongated, snaking out from her hands like miniature tendrils. She tried to grab as many of the weapons from the police as she could, but just trying to control the various appendages was strain enough and she had difficulty navigating.

  But her actions did cause the crowd and the police to pause in surprise and freeze for a moment. Shift dropped the weapons and the tendrils retreated, transforming back into regular fingers. She now found herself being stared at by well over a hundred people or so, none of them quite sure what to make of her. All of them had doubtlessly seen the footage of Vanguard defeating the Exemplar in Chicago, in addition to the reports of other specials appearing all over the world. But seeing it in person still proved a massive shock.

  “She’s one of those freaks!” shouted one of the cops. “The ones who killed that CEO!”

  “What? No, that’s not how it happened!” said Shift.

  The cops disregarded their non-lethal weapons and instead drew their firearms, pointing them at the young girl. “Don’t move! Don’t! Move!”

  They didn’t need to tell her that, just the shock of having the police pointing guns at her was enough to cause her to completely freeze in place. Shift’s eyes had grown wide with fear, and a million thoughts ran through her head at once.

  From high above, Paragon spoke into the earpiece as she began her descent. “Zenith, bring the Icarus in as low as you can, we’ve got a situation!”

  Paragon flew down, landing between Shift and the riot police. She stood tall, the scowl on her face a prime indication of what sort of mood this situation had put her in. “I’m only going to say this once: lower your weapons.”

  “Don’t interfere! Your kind has caused enough trouble already!” shouted one of the officers.

  “I repeat: Lower. Your. Weapons.”

  One of the officers responded by firing. The bullet flattened against the invisible field that surrounded Paragon’s body, barely even causing her to flinch. She turned her gaze to the cop who shot at her, staring him down. “What did I just say?”

  The wind suddenly kicked up, blowing from above, combined with the sound of machinery echoing amidst the square. All in the crowd turned their eyes up to see the Icarus hovering above them, and a large gun under the plane’s nose pointed directly at the cops. Zenith�
��s mechanical voice echoed over the speakers.

  “You will lower your weapons immediately or you shall face the consequences.”

  “These people have a right to protest,” said Paragon. “I suggest you leave them in peace.”

  ***

  “It’s quiet.” Sharkskin had his arms folded. He and Gunsmith were located underground in a sewer system in the state of Oklahoma, with Sharkskin staring out the grate. There were no high-rises for them to take a vantage point on, and so they had to go lower. The sewers were rank even without the enhanced sense of smell Sharkskin had in his transformed state, which was why he remained in his human form. He turned to Gunsmith. “We sure this is the right place?”

  Gunsmith held his arm bent in front of him, a panel on his gauntlet flipped up and exposing a small keyboard that he entered commands on. The results were transmitted to him through the lens over his right eye, flashing the data over his retina. “She’s after high-profile targets, and given the Supreme Court’s recent ruling about CraftWorld’s health care policy, they would qualify.”

  “Yeah, but no protestors.”

  “I think that’s why it’s more likely,” said Gunsmith. “Security won’t be as tight.”

  Sharkskin stared at the open panel on Gunsmith’s armor. “What are you doing anyway?”

  “I may not have the same sensors as Zenith, but this suit gives me some monitoring capabilities. Right now I’m trying to scan the security channels, see if I can pick up anything out of the ordinary.”

  Sharkskin turned his attention back to the grate. “This feels like a waste of time, man. Don’t know if we’ll find anything out here.”

  “Think you might be right, Jaws.” Wraith stepped from the shadows and both Sharkskin and Gunsmith faced him.

  “Find anything?” asked Gunsmith.

  Wraith shook his head. “Everything looks like it’s in order. This is a bust, there’s nothing happening here. How about you?”

  “Nothing, security’s quiet,” said Gunsmith.

  “We can’t be sure of anything,” said Wraith. “There are tons of potential targets, how do we know that this is one of them?”

  “Zenith developed an algorithm that determined CraftWorld and Low-Mart to be the most probable targets,” said Gunsmith. “Still, you’re right. We’re basically fumbling around in the dark.”

  “We’ve been here for hours, maybe we should call it quits,” said Sharkskin. “Wait until we hear something more.”

  “You mean hope we’re too late to stop her?” asked Wraith.

  Sharkskin’s face took on a look of confusion. “What?”

  “You didn’t seem too broken up about her success with Smith. Maybe you’re hoping she scores another hit.”

  “Hey, I may not be wild about these scumbags, but that doesn’t mean I wanna see them dead!”

  “I just call ‘em like I see ‘em,” said Wraith.

  “Geez, what is your problem?” asked Sharkskin. “You’ve had a chip on your shoulder since day one.”

  “Maybe it’s got something to do with not being here by choice!”

  Sharkskin was silenced by that comment and the surprise on his face even more extreme than before. Now Gunsmith stared at Wraith as well. “What are you talking about?”

  “You think I wanted to be in this freak show? Think I signed up willingly?” Wraith scoffed. “Hell no. I was given a choice—work for Uncle Sam or face a prison sentence.”

  “Why?” asked Sharkskin.

  “I’m a professional thief. Zenith apprehended me in the middle of a job.”

  Gunsmith had an incoming transmission through his headgear and turned away, whispering into his comm-link. Sharkskin continued speaking to Wraith, trying to figure out what happened. “So why didn’t you just take the prison sentence and escape? Not like they could really hold you.”

  “Thorne said he has ways to keep me from using my powers. Was also told that they’d make it public,” said Wraith. “I wasn’t about to put my family through a media circus.”

  “I’m sorry, man. I had no idea.”

  “Yeah, no one does,” said Wraith. “So I play the game and after a year, I get a full pardon.”

  Gunsmith stepped back into the group. “I just got a call from Atlas. Apparently there’s some irregular wind patterns picking up over this area. They want us to look into it.”

  Sharkskin’s body instantly gained bulk and his skin became tougher and turned gray, his eyes changing to black and his teeth elongating and sharpening. “I’m on it.”

  Gunsmith allowed Sharkskin to move on ahead, but put his hand on Wraith’s shoulder to get him to hold back. “I heard everything you and Koji were talking about. I want you to know I’m sorry, too. When this is over, I’ll talk to the Colonel. But until then, I need you to work with me on this, okay?”

  Wraith pulled his shoulder away. “Just stay out of my way.” He moved into the shadows, teleporting through them.

  ***

  The winds she commanded lowered Zephyr onto the roof of CraftWorld’s corporate headquarters. She saw a parking spot right up front that had a RESERVED FOR CEO sign. Zephyr extended her arm and a pocket of wind erupted from beneath the car, throwing it up into the air. Zephyr manipulated the winds and threw the car directly into the building. The reaction was near-instantaneous with screams emanating from inside and people quickly running out the front doors. Zephyr began scanning the crowd for her target, but she was tackled from behind before she could strike.

  Sharkskin had her pinned down on the roof, his knee on her back and one of his clawed hands pushing down on her white helmet. “Thought it was gonna be easy, huh?”

  Zephyr could move enough to plant her hands on the surface and she channeled her powers through her palms, a burst of wind shooting the pair into the sky. Now free, she pivoted her body towards Sharkskin and aimed her open palm at him. Another blow struck him, the wind throwing him off into the distance. Zephyr returned to her goal and she saw that people were already piling into cars to evacuate. She waved her hands, the winds she generated throwing several of the cars out of control and causing a pile-up at the parking lot exit. She spotted Tom Palmer, the CEO of CraftWorld, and smiled beneath her helmet.

  A figure in black with strips of leather serving as a cape ran onto the scene, seemingly from out of nowhere. He stood in front of Palmer, blocking Zephyr’s path. His dark eyes and his gloved hands crackled with ebon energy. Wraith unleashed the energy at her and Zephyr brought up her arms to shield herself as it engulfed her. She lost her balance and fell back to the roof, her entire body seizing up. Every negative thought she’d ever experienced came rushing into her mind, and she felt numb all over. She found herself gripped by crippling depression and could barely move.

  The roof shook with a small tremor. Zephyr managed to look up and she saw Sharkskin was back, evidently not at all happy about his unexpected flight. He growled at her, baring his teeth and claws. “Ohh, you are so dead.”

  “Do you know what they’re doing?” asked Zephyr. “You want them to keep on telling us what to do? Driving us into bankruptcy? Telling us what we can do with our bodies?”

  “No, but killing them won’t solve anything,” said Sharkskin.

  Zephyr shook her head. “You don’t understand. You know nothing! They’ll never stop unless we stand up to them!”

  “Fine by me, but you’re only gonna make things harder on all of us. And the destruction you’re causing? You’re only gonna hurt innocent people.”

  She scoffed. “Innocent. Nobody in this building is innocent.”

  “Guilt by association. My grandparents went through that in the forties. You’re barking up the wrong tree, sister.”

  Sharkskin charged at her. Zephyr threw out a wind blast, but she was still weakened and it could only temporarily hold him back. He pushed his legs harder, fighting through the current and getting within arm’s reach. He raised his arm and brought his claws down. Zephyr spun to avoid it, but the talons still
raked across her back, drawing some blood. She stumbled forward, falling to her knees. Zephyr threw her hands down and the winds carried her up into the air, over the parking lot.

  Wraith and Gunsmith were working quickly to evacuate the people, with Gunsmith leading them into the shadows so Wraith could teleport them to safety. When they saw Zephyr hovering over them, Gunsmith drew his weapons and opened fire. Zephyr’s control had increased and she could evade them with the help of her manipulation of the air. She threw out another gust that knocked Gunsmith off his feet.

  Sharkskin pounced from the roof, getting close enough to grab her ankle and pull her down. Zephyr righted herself with the winds, and she pointed both palms at Sharkskin’s face. Zephyr unleashed a gust as powerful as she could muster, driving Sharkskin down into the ground, leaving a small crater. Zephyr now saw that Wraith and Gunsmith had managed to transport everyone to safety.

  “Fine. But don’t think I’m leaving here empty-handed.”

  Zephyr hovered higher and generated wind tunnels under the cars, catapulting them into CraftWorld’s corporate headquarters. If she couldn’t kill Tom Palmer, then she would at the very least destroy their base of operations. It would cause a massive financial setback for them, and she had to settle for that small victory today. With her handiwork completed, she then shot off into the sky, the winds taking her far out of reach of the team.

  Gunsmith and Wraith helped Sharkskin from the crater. He was in pain, but otherwise unharmed, and he shook off his disorientation. “So did we win?”

  Gunsmith sighed and looked out over the destruction. “I guess you could put it that way. Doesn’t feel like much of a victory, though.”

  “Least nobody was hurt,” said Wraith.

  “Nobody, huh?” Sharkskin groaned, pain shooting through his body with every movement. “Speak for yourself.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Thorne sat in his office, facing a video call from President Hayworth and listening as the President berated him for a good ten to fifteen minutes. “Did you see what your team was out there doing, Thorne? Attacking riot police! Interfering with their ability to do their jobs!”