Full Metal Superhero (Book 6): Explosive Arsenal

by Haskell, Jeffery H.

  “Now’s my chance,” Kate says, taking off in a run.

  “Epic, what can we hit him with that won’t kill him?”

  Amelia, unless we disable him entirely there is no stopping him without killing him. Even if we aimed for the Gem and hit it directly, anything with sufficient power to destroy it would certainly kill Luke. The choice may not be yours for much longer, Amelia. If Carlos and Kate cannot stop him, a hit with the railgun or tank missile may be our only option.

  Kate leaps through the air, vanishing from sight for a second and reappearing on top of Luke. She lands on his chest in a crouch, hands on either side of his face. She screams as her fingers burn. Her boots sag with heat, the rubber in the soles melting as it breaks it down almost immediately under the assault.

  “Luke,” she screams. “Come back to us.”

  For a second, I think it’s going to work. Luke reaches up for her and his hands stop, he shakes his head like he’s trying to wake up... then that evil laugh comes back and he bats her off him like an insect.

  “Kate,” I scream. Emdrives flare as I floor it after her. I pass Luke going four hundred miles an hour, grab her before she hits the ground, and roll, taking the impact on my armor as we slide to a halt in the dirt.

  Epic throws her vitals on my screen, letting me know she’s alive.

  Luke roars in rage as Carlos leaps at him, spear back. He jams it through Luke’s chest. “No!” I shout. The spear pierces Luke like a knife through water, knocking him back as lava-like blood spurts out of the wound on his chest.

  He kicks Carlos in the chest, knocking him back and away, then he pulls the spear and chucks it aside. The blood leaking from the wound burns the ground where it hits.

  “Match to you, Son of Apollo, but you won’t always be here to save them.” Luke takes two steps forward and leaps into the air. In a heartbeat, he vanishes off into the distance.

  The plane ride home isn’t a barrel of laughs. One bright spot—well, two—no US Marshals were hurt and Lux is going to be okay. We picked her, Tony, and Teddy, up on our way back to Phoenix. Which is good for Kate since she suffered third-degree burns on her hands and feet.

  Teddy wrapped them up pretty quick. Between her already accelerated healing and Teddy’s power, she’ll be fine in a day or so. She sits next to me, her smile faltering a little as I review the footage from the fight. Once Luke emerged from the burning remains of the armored truck, I froze. I know it, they know it.

  “It’s not your fault,” Kate says, patting my hand with her bandaged one. I’m out of the armor—it’s nestled snugly in the belly of the plane, ready to go if I need it again.

  “I know,” I sigh. “It sure feels like it, though.”

  She shrugs. “We all blame ourselves for things we have no control over. It’s human nature.”

  “My people do that as well,” Lux interjects from the chair behind us. “Maybe it is just the nature of sentience?”

  I chuckle. “Good point, Lux. Maybe everyone who can judge and think will blame themselves when things go badly. Or at least good people, I guess.”

  Her laugh is like wind chimes in the sun. “Yes, good people. Bad people tend to blame everyone else for their problems.”

  Everyone chuckles at that. “Truth,” Teddy says.

  “It really isn’t your fault, Amelia,” Carlos says from across the aisle. He has his armor on still, but he’s removed his helmet, and his shield and spear rest on the next seat beside him. “That thing, I say ‘thing’ because it isn’t Luke, called me ‘Son of Apollo’... now, how would he know that?”

  “Isn’t Asclepius the son of Apollo?” Teddy asks. He would know; his brain is bigger than mine. “You’re not him, right?”

  Carlos laughs. “No, never even met him. I spent some time with his sister, Artemis, but he had no sons when I was there.”

  Kate leans forward to see past me; one delicate eyebrow raising up. “How much time?” she asks in an almost purr. The temperature in the plane skyrockets and Carlos’ face flushes beat red.

  “That—that’s not what I meant,” he coughs out.

  “Uh-huh,” she says with a smile. “I’m sure it was all just battle training and martial exercises. None of that debauchery the Greeks were known for—of course not.” I can tell Kate is teasing him, but Carlos can’t. His face burns bright red and I’m worried he’s going to burst a blood vessel. She holds his eyes for a second before turning back to me. The plane has gone silent and she continues.

  “My point is, Amelia, you’ve done everything you can do to help him. What the thing in the Gem does isn’t your fault any more than it is Luke’s,” she says. When she’s right, she’s right, but it doesn’t change how I feel. It does give me the strength to smile at her for a moment.

  Amelia. You need to see this. All of you do.

  “See what?” Tony asks.

  The big TV screen in the front of the cabin flares to life. The volume ticks up until we can hear the newscaster speaking. The scrolling ticker on the bottom of the screen fills us in while the person reporting finds their words.

  — Superhero battle in Seattle. Several dead —

  Oh no, no, no. Smoke on the screen clears and I can see the bodies. Whoever has the camera is as brave as they come to get that close.

  “Epic, reroute us to Seattle!”

  It is already over. Amelia, this is a replay of events that happened a few minutes ago.

  My mind reels.

  “Wh— what?”

  Standing over the bodies of the three versions of Triple Threat and Enforcer, is... me. Or at least armor that looks like mine. She’s holding Emerald Knight by the throat and snaps her neck while we watch helplessly. The running news feed at the bottom changes to, Arsenal goes rogue, murders innocent super team.

  “Where’s Weather Witch?” I ask Epic.

  She is alive but in critical condition. Keep watching.

  The armored figure—who looks just like me—drops Emerald Knight to the ground. Her body falling in a heap. My stomach threatens revolt just as the temperature in the plane drops ten degrees. Monica switched to her elemental mode to keep from puking.

  The not-Arsenal turns to the camera, gives it a nod, then braces herself. The whine of the Emdrive fills the air and she blasts off into the air.

  “That’s not good,” Tony mutters.

  “You think?” Carlos asks him.

  “The only reason you’re not in jail right now is that the Governor of Arizona and the State Attorney General are vouching for you—combined with your ‘alibi’.” Special Agent-in-Charge of Superhuman Activity Brown actually raises his hands up and makes air quotes with his fingers while he talks to me. We’re in Sulaco, the smallest of our conference rooms in the Spire.

  Since I am only allowed one other person in the room with me, I chose Kate. I figured her abilities would come in handy. What I didn’t know was Agent Brown would be wearing a breathing filter to block out her pheromones. He’s sharp, I guess. Except for the part where he thinks I actually murdered the Northwest team. This is an unofficial-official interview. Agent Brown is recording it. If he’s looking for me to say something and slip up he’s in for a long wait. I may only have Kate with me, but I’m wearing my glasses. Epic is analyzing everything Brown says and his body language, and running advanced computations on any possible response I could give, then feeding me the best answer with the least likely chance of me ending up in jail.

  I would think being innocent would be enough, but I’ve learned the hard way over the last few years that the truth has little to do with... well, anything.

  “Please tell me why I should believe that wasn’t you in Seattle?” he asks.

  His body language and tone suggest that he is not at all open to the possibility of the assailant being someone else. Keep your answers short, simple, and truthful.

  I glance up at the camera in the corner of the room and give Epic a raised eyebrow. As if I wouldn’t be truthful.

  “Because
it wasn’t me. I was in Colorado, apprehending the Armory. I have my team as witnesses—and the US Marshals who accompanied us.”

  “Uh-huh,” he says. He looks at Kate, then me. “You think I’m stupid?”

  I open my mouth to say ‘yes,’ when Epic flashes a large “Red Alert” symbol across my vision. I sigh instead. “No, I don’t. You’re an FBI agent. That requires a level of schooling stupid people can’t achieve. You are a Special Agent, so you have years in the field. You’re also wearing a mask to filter out any atmospheric toxins, which makes you aware of our abilities and ready to counter them. Clearly, you’re well trained and motivated,” I say to him while looking him square in the eyes. I find people tend to get uncomfortable after about seven seconds of eye contact.

  He doesn’t.

  “And?” he asks.

  “And you’re biased. You don’t like superhumans, or you don’t like me, and you're letting that bias influence your investigation. You think I’m guilty and there isn’t anything I can say or do that will change your mind.”

  That catches him off guard.

  “Are you telling me there is no way that could have been you in Seattle?”

  “I’ve already told you it wasn’t. I can provide you electronic evidence—”

  “It’s well known you have access to advanced computers and alien technology. Anything you provide could also easily be faked by you.”

  “How about the testimony already provided?” I ask him.

  He leans back in his chair and looks at Kate. She has on the business suit she usually wears when she’s working for the team in an official capacity. “She can manipulate peoples emotions—anyone who has come into contact with her without proper precaution,” he says with a gesture toward his mask, “can’t be trusted.”

  I sigh again. “Then there is literally nothing I can do to prove my innocence—” His lips spread into a predatory grin and he’s about to speak but I go on. “And absolutely nothing you can do to prove my guilt.”

  I expected his smile to fade or something but it doesn’t. If anything, he looks happy at the conclusions I’ve drawn.

  “I don’t know about that. Now, I’m no scientist, but don’t you have the ability to remote control these ‘suits’ of yours?” He asks.

  This is most likely a trap. I advise you do not answer him directly.

  “That kind of technology is hardly advanced. Your kid probably has an RC car,” I tell him.

  He frowns. “So you do have it?”

  “Everyone has it,” I say.

  “But you specifically, do you have it?”

  I’m trying really hard not to let the frustration of the situation make me say something rash, when an idea pops in my head.

  “Define, ‘remote control’?”

  Now he’s frustrated—if his flaring nostrils have anything to say. “Don’t play games with me,” he says while glaring at us.

  “I’m not the one playing games. Ask stupid questions, win stupid prizes,” I say before I can stop myself.

  “So you can?”

  “Yes,” I say with a sigh.

  “Then what would stop you from sending one of your suits to Seattle and murdering the team that offended you while you were somewhere else?”

  “Nothing. Nothing would stop me from murdering anyone I please. Other than the fact that I’m not a murderer.”

  He smiles again as if he has me. “But you have murdered. You murdered an entire people. I think they call it genocide.”

  I shake my head. Not this again. “Agent Brown, unless you have any questions pertaining to your investigation, we’re done. You may leave,” I tell him pointing at the door.

  “Fine. Don’t leave town and I’ll be in touch,” he says as he stands. I give him my best ‘who me?’ look and smile.

  I don’t take my eyes off him until he’s gone.

  “What a piece of work,” Kate says. She didn’t speak earlier because she really was just there for moral support. I doubt there was anything she could say that would have made a difference anyway.

  “He isn’t wrong, though,” I say with a sigh. “I could’ve remote controlled a unit to do just what he’s suggesting I did. Hell, If I was willing to do that, I could do it to anyone... just about,” I say with a shrug.

  “But you’re not a murderer,” Kate says putting her hand on my shoulder for comfort.

  “He has no way of knowing that.”

  “You would think that saving the planet a couple of times would buy you some leeway,” she says.

  “You’re only as good as your last movie,” I say with a shrug.

  With no way to track Luke or neutralize him, and the Armory out of commission, that just leaves two things on my list: Frank Parker and Calhoon Strungel. Right now I’m at a dead end on both. Epic is running a search algorithm and as soon as he has some hits we’ll be ready. The questions is, ready for what?

  Frank Parker is the easiest to predict. He has to come to me, and probably soon. The kinetic manipulator he stole won’t work without me. As for Strungel... he’s an enigma. Somewhere out there he has a lab, a lot like mine, where he’s cooking up his next plan.

  I decide to call it off for the night. Too many late nights and early mornings are taking their toll on me. I lean over and check my foot. If it weren’t for Teddy’s ministrations I’d be in real trouble. I’m just glad I can’t feel the damage to my foot and leg—I’ve got one of those braces on my leg that make it look like I’m wearing an exosuit and my foot is still wrapped up tight. When I look up from my screen to wheel out, I see a swirl of condensed air like mist appear in front of me. Frank Parker falls out of it like he just jumped off a bridge. His body rights itself as he comes out of the portal, gravity asserting it’s dominance, and he lands silently on two feet. His face is a mask of rage and he growls at me.

  The raw fury rolling off of him reminds me of Luke, or the thing controlling Luke, and I wheel back to put space between us. Epic detects his arrival and initiates our plan. In a moment Kate and Carlos will be here to help me deal with him.

  “What’s the code?” Frank growls as he crosses the distance between us. “I need that code!”

  I shake my head. “Not gonna happen.”

  He looms over me, his fists shaking as he desperately tries to figure out what to do next.

  “Please,” he begs. The anger evaporates from him, shoulders sagging and his chest deflating. “Please,” he says again as he slumps to the floor. “I’m so close.”

  Ever since I returned and found out the government stole my suits, I’ve been putting safeguards in everything. All my stuff has a hardwired code built in now, nothing works without me or Epic. Like the mass driver rifle. No Epic, no worky.

  “Mr. Parker... Frank, talk to me? If your goals are just saving your wife and daughters, let me help. I know a little about this sort of crusade. I spent fourteen years of my life looking for my parents. Believe me, I want to help you. You haven’t murdered anyone that I know of, even the events in California were limited. You haven’t crossed the Rubicon yet,” I tell him with as much confidence and reassurance as I can muster. Sympathy too, because honestly? This could be me. If I’d been a little older, or a little more traumatized... I could’ve gone the supervillain route.

  He glances up at me, and even more of himself sags. He looks like a man who's lost all hope. The lines around his eyes and mouth seem out of place with the youthfulness of his eyes. He takes his rain hat off and runs a hand through his hair. Falling back, he lies on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, closing his eyes.

  “I’ve seen them die so many times,” he whispers. “Hundreds...”

  I don’t say anything, just let him continue. I really need a win here. If I can get him to stop running and let me help, it would be ideal. I signal Kate to hold off coming in, but be ready. I don’t want to startle him.

  “Tell me about it,” I say. “Why can’t you save them?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s not quite th
at I can’t save them it’s... They’re driving down the Pennsylvania Ave on their way to pick me up from work when the EMP goes off, killing their engine and that of every other car on the street. I was at the Capital building that day doing extra work because of the summit.

  The first time I saw it I thought all the cars would crash or explode or something, but no—the cars all just sort of coast to a stop like a river of metal. That’s not when the dying starts, though. All the lights go off, it’s the city at night, it’s never safe, but suddenly there’s screaming. A car explodes near them. My wife... Jasmine, she grabs the twins and runs. She’s smart like that.”

  I nod; he isn’t looking at me but it’s an autonomous reaction.

  “Those damn warbots come from everywhere, spilling onto the road shooting anyone that moves. She... she pulls the girls toward the White House thinking it will be safe. When the fighting worsens, she climbs into an overturned military vehicle. I’m sure she thought the armor would protect them...”

  Oh, God. The AFV Behemoth threw at me... there were people inside it?

  I let him lie there for a moment while I think wishing Kate was here to help me. I do all I can to keep from hyperventilating but I remember it like it was yesterday. I give my breathing a minute to settle down. I’ve given him enough time—I need answers.

  “Why can’t you save them?” I ask. He’s a time traveler—he should be able to.

  “I’ve tried, God I’ve tried so many times.” He sounds tired, weary, like man who's seen too much pain and suffering. Maybe he has? “I don’t have a lot of control over my powers. They didn’t manifest until after that event. I can go back in time and I can go forward in time and I can return to my starting point... sort of.”

  Interesting. I raise an eyebrow at how he said that. “You mean you don’t return to the moment you left?”

  He shakes his head. “This is my present. Let’s say I go forward in time ten years and I spend six months there. When I come back, six months will have passed here. I can go back to the moment I left, but I can’t change anything behind my present. I’m anchored here, tethered.”