by P. S. Power
"Hello, is this the moron in charge of the monumental fuck up about to happen?"
A voice growled back at him.
"If this is Brian Yi, you need to surrender now or else my men..." This got a laugh from Brian, a dark tone that sounded more than a little like a growl.
"No, you're listening now. This is Brian Yi - Proxy - Federal Agent, IPB and person with a lifespan probably measured in months or weeks, anyway you slice it. Your men attacked us in a terrorist action yesterday and kidnapped me with the intent to kill today. We're done with legal games. Pull back now, right now, back to your station, without exception, or I personally will bring a war down on your heads that you will not believe. I'm armed with weapons you can't even dream of having and they're pointed at you personally right now. Truth? I can't get you all. But I can get a lot of you. You think you're above the law... And you know what? You're probably right. But so am I, mother fucker. I'm dead anyway, which trumps your ability to get away with shit in court, don't you think? Now choose which of your men you want to die with you today to prove that you're all die-hard terrorists, because that's how this is going to play on the news tonight, I assure you. You have five minutes to comply fully, anything less than that and we see if I'm full of hot air or you're full of hot lead."
After hanging up Brian laughed, everyone staring at him like he was insane.
"I'm full of hot air or you're full of hot lead? Sorry, I didn't mean to say that, it just popped out. Talk about cheesy. Man... I think I'm a little loopy from lack of sleep. Anyway, go, get inside, because I wasn't kidding." He pulled a fragmentation grenade and pulled the pin, but held the handle down so it didn't arm. "Go on now... and don't try to jump me. Sorry about the threat but... well, I can't trust most of you. Not the best way to part company maybe, but it's where we are."
They all walked out of the area behind the berm, he didn't know how far away they went, but hoped it would be out of the path of any stray bullets. Being careful to get it right he returned the pin to the grenade, keeping it right by his side in case anyone came back. Then he aimed at the center of the group, the men, part of them just milling around, half of them in shooting positions, aiming at him. All the activity must have alerted them to his position.
That was less than perfect. If he had the element of surprise it would have bought him an extra ten to twenty seconds of firing while people got into position. Taking a deep breath he stilled, forcing relaxation and clearing his mind. Trying to get ready to die.
As good a day for it as any.
At four minutes and thirty seconds, his finger just beginning to squeeze the trigger slowly, planning to hit them twenty seconds early if they hadn't started to move - to regain the element of surprise a little - they started to scurry around, jumping into cars and driving off quickly. Watching he felt shocked... not elated.
A little let down really. Honestly, them just leaving hadn't really seemed possible to him. It took a couple of minutes but they were going so he gave them the time. After they left, waiting for their trick or trap, Brian wondered what it would be. They'd be back, their manhood had been too challenged not to. Low IQ people with egos that size couldn't let something like this go.
Brian didn't think of himself as having a huge problem that way and he still kind of wanted to finish things. After a few hours he heard someone behind him and spun, handgun ready, expecting it to be one of them. Mark stood there instead, out of the path of any bullets, holding a plate of food.
"Dinner! I don't think they're going to be back by the way. This made the TV and the news trucks followed them back to town. Someone tapped the line and leaked the phone call to their chief on the Internet already. It probably means someone has the director's phone monitored all the time... Anyway, didn't know if you'd eaten, so... hamburger and fries?"
After handing the plate over, Mark vanished. Hurrying back using his abilities, Brian guessed, probably just in case bullets did fly. In stasis mode or whatever, the guy could walk around bullets and even take them from the air with his fingers. He'd described it once at lunch. It sounded really cool.
At true dark he went in, because he couldn't find any night vision goggles in the armory. He knew they were there, they had to be, but without them he'd be safer inside. Harder to sneak up on behind closed doors underground.
He took two extra hand guns and ammo, and two knives. Not knowing what might come, he took the grenade and brought two more with him. Because it was just too fun not to. Grenades inside seemed suicidal, sure, but the threat had worked once today, who knew what else lay in store. He entered with a gun in his hand, safety off, just in case of attack, Lady Glory or her friends for instance. Sleep wouldn't be easy, not now. Gun in hand Brian curled up in his soft white chair, ready to shoot when they came. Ready to die.
Morning came with a knock on the door. Wearing the same clothes he'd slept in, black fatigues, shoes on feet, gun in hand, he answered it. Marcia noticed the weapon but didn't care, which made sense. What was he going to do, threaten to ruin her outfit with bullet holes? Even a grenade probably couldn't actually do much to her, if anything. Pushing past him she moved to his bed, plunking herself down causing the whole thing to bounce slightly.
"Director wanted you to go to a press conference about all this shit. I told him to bend over and blow himself. He didn't like that too much, but hey, after what happened last time, I'm surprised you haven't taken that gun to anyone yet." She didn't give any expression for him to work with, face just blank, empty almost.
The chair felt more comfortable after standing for a bit, the memory foam cushion resetting itself felt funny after the last night without moving from it. Marcia didn't move, just lying back on the bed, breathing, deep breaths, slow and measured. After a while she sat up and shrugged.
"Fuck it. We all die, but today we can make a difference. Maybe. Let's go make it happen."
Standing she took his left hand - the one without the weapon - and they went to the second floor, Marcia leading and making certain Lady Glory hadn't shown up before he walked in, actually peeking her head in all the way when he asked her to. Yeah, he was being a paranoid freak, but she backed his play fully anyway.
Then again, it wasn't really that over the top was it? Not given the previous days.
Handgun out, but pointed down, Brian flowed in. The reporters looked scared, but he did have a weapon out. He searched the crowd, waiting for assassins or to be mobbed by undercover police. The Director stood at the podium and stared at him as he approached, eyes wide and uncertain. Brian nodded to him and the man introduced him like it had all been planned. Smoothly and sounding relaxed, as if everyone came to press conferences armed to the teeth.
The man had skills, Brian thought, respecting them even as everything else fell apart.
"Good morning. As the director said, I'm Brian Yi, Proxy. Federal Agent, IPB and all around nice guy. The weapon," he held it up for everyone to see, then set it back down on the podium, "is for my own protection and not a threat to anyone here, as long as you haven't come to try and illegally kidnap or murder me. If so, please raise your hands now... Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?" No one moved, though a few people seemed reassured by the playful banter. Brian sighed hugely, playing to the cameras. "I didn't think that would work... So, here's my story..."
He told them... everything. Starting with the first time his ability showed up to the dinner Mark brought him the day before and how he'd slept in his clothes, gun in his grasp, afraid that people would be coming after him.
"Any questions?"
They had questions. Lots of them.
None of them about anything important.
Did he really take Prime hostage? Yes, but Prime was his friend and realized that Brian felt backed into a corner. He could have disarmed Brian at any time, obviously. He was freaking Prime after all.
Did he try to kill Lady Glory? No. He had hit her in a scuffle, but she wasn't hurt as far as he could tell. Still, he felt pretty frustrated there, she k
ept almost getting him killed and they weren't even dating, so no pay off for him in it at all. That got a laugh.
Did he know that using a fifty caliber weapon against personnel was illegal even in war? No, he hadn't known that, but asked if using a rocket launcher or a car bomb against people was If so, he'd have to go turn himself in right now... Looking at the man that had asked the question he let his face go serious for a moment and explained. It was all he had at the time and he reacted to the imminent threat. That the man had been targeting Lady Glory just showed that the police all knew who the real threat was to them there. No, he told them, he didn't know why Lady Glory didn't like him, but he suspected his looks.
"I mean, come on, they hide me in the basement here for a reason, right?" Waving at his face got another chuckle. Not too loud though. He still had bruises though and no make-up, so he knew that he didn't look TV ready.
Did he think that this thing with the police could be resolved peacefully?
"Oh... No... Not at all. If something else doesn't kill me first, they will. I'd be surprised if - what's the date?" he asked, looking around. A man in the front row called out, sounding a little amused.
"September twelfth."
"Hey! It's my birthday! Well, I guess this is the party, too bad I don't have any cake to offer you. Sorry about that... Maybe we can scrounge something up? I kind of want a real party. Balloons and stuff. Anyway, to answer the question, no. The monsters of the world don't stop until stopped and they are that, monsters. Not all of them, but these? Hell yeah. If they weren't, they'd be doing something else, rather than committing crimes and hiding behind their badges."
The room went quiet so he continued.
"I fight monsters and demons. I know them for what they are. It may not be popular to say, but popular isn't the same as right."
He walked out then, not caring overly about the fallout. People shouted questions at him, but Brian just ignored them.
As he left the room, halfway back, he started tingling, then found himself stuck on a rock ledge. He laughed and wanted to clap when he got it, but didn't, to prevent a sixty foot fall to his death. Brian really hated those, he decided in the moment. For the first time the person wasn't being killed.
Yippee.
They'd just gotten stuck. He looked around and climbed up. It wasn't easy, lacking the needed skills, but not that hard. He wondered if the person he replaced might be a child? It took about ten minutes. When he came back people were still there, walking around. Waiting. He waved as he walked out, wondering what had happened to the gun and knife he'd had on him. It made him really glad he hadn't had a grenade. That would have freaked some people out, wouldn't it? Him vanishing, leaving that rolling under the chairs...
In the hall, standing in the middle and staring at the door, stood Lady Glory, glaring and fuming. Her body language spoke of a person ready for violence. Brian relaxed, ready to fight if she wanted. Normally he didn't like to hit girls, but if she forced it that would have to be what happened. Her glow intensified and she hit him with her full power, the intensity so great Brian cried, feeling everything keenly, love for everything, compassion for everyone. Everywhere. He walked past her moving smoothly, not overawed by the feeling any more. Not after the first few seconds. Looking around for the threat, the one always present when LG pulled this stunt. He found the Director staring at them instead and waved the man over.
Smiling and feeling the man's plight, how hard all of this had been to manage, how wonderful he'd been through it all, he spoke, really meaning it and feeling bad for making things harder for the guy at the same time.
"I'm trapped. I can't stay here and I can't leave. I... I think I have a solution. She needs to stop that now though." She didn't, even when the Director asked her to. Moore carried the gun he'd brought.
Good, he'd been afraid he'd lost it and that might inconvenience someone. Guns were expensive and they had to account for them being gone from the armory eventually, right? Smiling he took it back, the man not resisting or acting silly about it, which made him feel good about the guy. He really did try hard to keep everything running smoothly.
Brian could see that now. Everything was so clear.
Then in one fluid motion he clicked the safety off and put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger with his right thumb, sorry about the mess it would make on the outside facing wall.
It clicked, empty.
He looked at the director and asked him, filled with love, if he had the bullets.
Glory finally stopped hitting him. The feeling tore through him, half relief, half something so dark he didn't have a name for it. Death rage? Something like that might fit.
He turned on her and rushed forward as fast as he could. She just stood, as if frozen when he hit her - a tackle, inelegant, taking her to the floor - then he hit her over and over again until she stopped glowing. Brian stood up and demanded that they lock her up, at least until they could find out why she'd tried to kill him, again, after everything.
No one moved.
When he looked down, Karen lay on the floor, bleeding from the nose and mouth.
His stomach dropped.
She'd been spying on him? Or... He didn't know, but she'd pretended to be his friend and then tried to kill him? Why? Had he done something that wrong? How? All he'd done with her is go around a track and do some sit ups! She'd seemed nice... If she had a problem with him, why hadn't she come and talked about it? He would have listened...
Crying, tears streaming down his face, he walked away. He didn't know what to do now. Putting a gun in his mouth seemed like a good option. There was another one down in his room. He took the stairs, not trusting the elevators right now, they could be controlled remotely he felt sure. Slowly he descended, missing the ninth floor and needing to climb back up two flights to get the right door.
Brian moved like a zombie, feeling detached. It would work, he knew, a solution to all their problems. No one here liked him, they just pretended to, to keep him going while waiting for him to die. He'd created all those problems the day before. If he would have just let the police kill him, everything would be fine now. So, it was a good plan. Walking to his room, he thought he heard something but he didn't, it must have been imagination. Going to his closet he dug out the second gun he'd hidden there. The weight felt nice in his hand, sturdy and solid.
Checking for bullets first, he clicked off the safety and put the handgun in his mouth again, the metal tasted bad, a little, but that wouldn't last long, he pulled the trigger. Nothing. His arms and legs were just strapped to a bed suddenly.
He howled.
Knowing it wouldn't to any good, he fought at first, but of course, nothing happened. This bed had been designed to stop people a lot stronger than him after all. He tried to convince his subconscious mind to get him out, but it wouldn't, foolishly choosing survival over the sensible course of action.
Brian cried.
Karen? Why?
After a few minutes someone came in and gave him a shot, which put him to sleep. He woke feeling cold. Not physically, but inside. No emotions, just logic. The restraints hadn't been removed, so he waited calmly. His ability, he knew now, worked in part on emotion. Too bad they hadn't figured that out two months ago. A life without emotion would have been hard, but better than what had happened. Except for the lives saved. The math there made sense. One life spent playing video games and packing toilet paper into boxes didn't equal the nearly forty he'd saved since then. If even one of them managed to do something with their life, even just have children, or help a stuck motorist, the equation balanced. Morally. Math wise it didn't work, the variables couldn't be balanced, too many things were subjective. But the made up math in his head worked perfectly.
After a few hours a doctor came in, one he didn't recognize. The woman smiled and asked how he felt, getting an exacting answer that made her laugh. She explained the drug that had been given, how it worked to shut down most of the emotion centers of the brai
n, and that it couldn't be used often without permanent damage.
"It's safe occasionally, but we try to save those uses for when it's really needed. Now why do you think you tried to kill yourself?"
Analyzing it without emotion left him feeling oddly clear about the whole thing. Why had he done it? Thinking for a minute first, a picture came together. Lady Glory had hit him over and over again with her power, probably stressing the neuropeptide production of both compassion and love chemicals in his brain. Self-sacrifice, his first mode, required some of the same brain chemicals to function properly. It left him empty after a while, his brain forcing itself into overdrive. Along with the events and the incredible stress he'd been under the last months, torturous things by anyone's standards, connections had been formed internally, linking the ultimate in self-sacrifice with the solution to all the problems being faced at the moment.
Depression also played a role, an imbalance created by half a dozen factors, most directly stress, but also Lady Glory, Karen, and the repeated assaults on his mind.
The doctor's eyes went wide.
"That's... insightful. Some of the science is a little off, but not that far. What we have to do is restore the balance. Unfortunately that's going to take time, about a week, and during that time, we can't treat you with Dipherial, the drug you're on right now. It's probably not going to be a lot of fun for you, in fact... well, it has to be done. On the good side, the Dipherial in your system right now will build a backlog for the next fourteen hours or so, which will give you something to work with as far as the needed brain chemicals are concerned."
She went over what would have to be done, that it would be hard, uncomfortable, and possibly deadly. That he'd have to be in restraints at first, and probably feel suicidal. She covered the medical portions, the I.V.'s to keep him fed and hydrated, the catheters.
Then she left. Sleep came, for a while, then pain. Inside, the world, everything he knew, collapsed in on him. She'd said suicidal, but that didn't cover it by half. Unable to move ,he tried to will himself to death. That didn't work, so he tried to chew through his own tongue so he'd bleed until he died. He thought he was alone, but someone had been watching, because he woke up with a plastic piece in his mouth, or at least it appeared and he didn't remember anyone putting it there. He let the saliva pool in his mouth for an hour and inhaled it, but they came and saved him again then too.
