Then the video panned up to Neha’s face. Despite being bound and injured, Neha did not look frightened or in pain. The emotion that was on her face was pure fury. She glared at the unseen person who made the video. If looks could kill, whoever had made the recording was surely dead. I had seen her mad before, but nothing like this.
The video faded to black after less than a minute. I had Isaac play the video again a few more times. It almost physically hurt to watch it, but I forced myself. I wanted to see if there was proof in the video indicating it was the Sentinels who had taken her so we could hand the video over to the Guild. I did not spot anything. Neither did Truman or Isaac. The video could have been shot by absolutely anybody. Even the email address the video had been sent from was not a Sentinels’ address. The video had been sent from the email address of the chairman of the Guild’s executive committee. Obviously Mechano had hacked into the chairman’s email to send me this video. It must have given Mechano quite a chuckle at our expense.
I went back around Truman’s desk and slumped into the chair there.
“Neha must hate being held prisoner like this,” I said. I felt old and impossibly tired.
“Who wouldn’t?” Truman asked.
“Neha in particular hates this. Being helpless and needing someone to come rescue her?” I shook my head at how Neha must feel, knowing her as I did. “It’s eating her up inside. She doesn’t like feeling weak. She hates being forced into the role of damsel in distress.”
“Speaking of being helpless,” Isaac said, “how do you suppose they’re preventing her from turning into gas and freeing herself?”
“It must be the metal that’s binding her,” I said. “A similar looking metal was used on me during the Trials to suppress my powers. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Metahuman suppression technology had been invented by Mechano. So much tech the Guild relies on was.”
“Well, we’ve established the Sentinels do indeed have your friend. The question now becomes, what do we do about it?” Truman said.
“There’s no time to go to the Guild,” Isaac said. “Even if we had evidence to convince the Guild of the Sentinels’ crimes—and we don’t—by the time the Guild acted, Neha would be dead.” Isaac turned to look at me. “You have to give them the Omega weapon. At least for now. Once we have Neha back, we can figure out what to do next.”
“Do you really think the Sentinels will simply hand your friend over in exchange for the Omega weapon, say ‘So long, and be sure not to talk about all the kidnapping and murdering we’ve been doing,’ and let the four of us go on our merry way?” Truman shook his head. “It’s far more likely that once they have the Omega weapon in their possession, they’ll kill both Theo and Neha, both to keep them quiet and to free the Omega spirit up to enter someone who might be more compliant than Theo is. I don’t believe for a second they’ll leave him alone. He knows too much. As do you and I. Once they dispose of Neha and Theo, they’ll come after us. Even if we don’t have proof of what they have done, I can’t imagine the Sentinels letting Heroes with direct knowledge of their wrongdoing continue to walk around, potentially making trouble for them.”
“We’re going to have to take that risk,” Isaac insisted. “If we don’t, Neha will die for sure. How these three Sentinels have behaved in the past indicates they’re not bluffing about killing her if we don’t do what they say.”
“Enough,” I said, tired of all the yammering. I had said it low, almost to myself. I was so mad at the Sentinels, so afraid of what they might do to Neha, and so sick of evil people getting away with being evil.
“Let her die,” Truman said. Isaac looked at him like Truman had gone crazy. “I know it sounds harsh, but you’re letting the fact she’s your friend cloud your thinking. Smoke is a Hero. She knows the risk of putting on a cape and costume. It’s better to let one person die than let something as powerful as the Omega weapon fall into the hands of these Sentinels. The kind of mischief they’re already capable of is considerable. What terrible things would they do with the Omega weapon to boost their already considerable power? Even the rest of the Sentinels combined with the Guild might not be able to stand against them. We have to look at the big picture, not focus exclusively on the welfare of a single person.”
“Enough,” I said, louder this time. My anger was a grumbling volcano that threatened to erupt. First Dad, then Hannah, now Neha. I was sick and tired of people being hurt because of me.
“Are you insane?” Isaac shouted. His face was red. He thrust it into Truman’s in anger. “We’re not going to just sit here and let them kill her. If you knew her, you wouldn’t be so willing to throw her to the wolves.”
Truman did not recoil from Isaac’s indignation. “The welfare of the many is more important than the welfare of a single person,” he insisted firmly but calmly.
My anger churned in my stomach like lava. The volcano mounting within me exploded. I shot to my feet.
“I said enough!” I shouted. I wasn’t sure if I was talking to Isaac and Truman, or to the wider world that allowed innocents to be hurt and killed. I slapped my hand on top of Truman’s desk in anger. It boomed like a clap of thunder. Truman’s thick wooden desk split in two. It collapsed in on itself with a crash like a demolished building. The computer, books, and files on his desk fell. It all made a racket as it hit the floor. Papers went flying like confetti.
Inadvertently, I had obviously let a bit of my new power slip out of me, like an adolescent boy who’s not yet accustomed to his growing body’s newfound strength.
Isaac took a step back. He stared at me as if he had never seen me before. Even Truman, normally unflappable, was startled. He looked at me, down at his now ruined desk, and then back up at me. Finally, he shook his head.
“I never liked that desk anyway. I’m glad to be rid of it,” he said. “Now that you’ve finished redecorating my office, what are you doing to do about Neha?”
“I’m going to do what I have to do to get her back,” I said.
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized I did not just mean get her back from the Sentinels. I also meant get her back into my life. Other than the Omega weapon, I had gotten something equally powerful from the Omega spirit’s test: Crystal clear memories of my romantic life with Neha. As if the events actually had happened, I remembered us dating, me shopping for an engagement ring, me proposing, her saying yes, our wedding, our wedding night, the night our son James was conceived, the morning he was born, and so many other wondrous memories. Though they had not really happened, it felt like they had. I would cherish them until the day I died.
The memories of my married life with Neha reinforced to me that I loved her with all my being. I had been a fool to not reconcile with her before now. I would rescue her from the Sentinels. Then, I would make new memories with her. Real ones.
But first, I needed to tie up a loose end.
25
Antonio stirred a bit on the floor. Though his eyes were closed, I had been monitoring his pulse with my telekinetic touch. The rate of his pulse had just spiked. It told me that Antonio was now conscious and just playing possum.
I reached out with my telekinesis and nudged him. He yelped in pain, rolled over, and sat up. From his perspective, the nudge likely felt like a swift kick to the ribs. I was sick of playing games and pussy-footing around. It was not too long before I needed to meet with the Sentinels.
Bleary-eyed and confused, Antonio looked around. He rubbed his side where I had prodded him. He had on faded blue jeans, moccasins, and a red plaid shirt. His too-tight shirt stretched out over his belly, making him look like he had swallowed a cannonball.
“Where the fuck am I?” he demanded in his surprisingly high-pitched voice. He had put on weight since I had last seen him in his apartment what seemed like forever ago. The extra pounds appeared to all have landed in his belly. He obviously hadn’t shaved his head in several days. There was a wide crescent of stubble on the sides and back of his
head, and none from his forehead to his crown. Antonio must have gotten into the habit of shaving his head so people wouldn’t know he was balding.
Though Antonio was as big and scary-looking as I remembered, it was hard to be intimidated by someone with male pattern baldness who looked pregnant. Harder still when you wore the Omega suit.
“You are in a place high up in the middle of the Himalayas,” I said. “It’s called The Mountain.” Thanks to the Omega suit’s malleability, I had fashioned a cowl that covered my head and features. I also had on a white cape. More often than not, a cape got in the way. Wearing one now seemed appropriate, though, like a judge donning his robe before he presided over a sentencing hearing.
Antonio unsteadily got to his feet.
“How the fuck did I get here?”
I could have told him that I had flown from Astor City to the small village in Italy Truman had told me Antonio was hiding out in. With my powers augmented as they were by the Omega suit, the journey had taken me a tiny fraction of the time it normally would have. I could have said that I then located Antonio and knocked him out with my powers before he or anyone else spotted me. I could have told him that I then flew him from Italy to The Mountain. It had all been child’s play thanks to the Omega suit.
I could have said all that, but why bother? Instead, I simply shrugged.
“I’m a Hero,” I said.
“And who the fuck are you?” If you eliminated the F-bomb from Mad Dog’s vocabulary, he likely would be at a loss for words.
“My name is Omega.”
“And that’s supposed to fuckin’ mean something to me?”
“We’ve met before, though I don’t expect you to recognize me.” With a thought, the cowl slid off my head and melted into the rest of the Omega suit, like dry ground sucking up raindrops. My face was now fully exposed to Antonio. “My name is Theodore Conley. I was a friend and co-worker of your girlfriend Hannah Kim. My friend and I spoke in your apartment to you about her before you murdered her.”
“Murdered? I didn’t murder nobody.” I didn’t need my powers to tell me he lied. It was written all over his face. My powers did confirm, though, that he was in fact lying.
“It doesn’t matter what you say,” I said. “I know you killed her. Which is why you’re here.”
For the first time, Antonio seemed to realize that thick, transparent glass separated me from him. Antonio ran his hands over the glass, tapping on it probingly. Then he backed up and opened his mouth wide. He looked thunderstruck when nothing happened. I had put him in the Metahuman holding cell Isaac and I had discovered during our earlier visit here.
“As you can see, your powers don’t work here. I’ve placed you in a cell that neutralizes them.”
Antonio pointed his open mouth at the glass several more times. It reminded me of a gaping fish out of water. Clearly he did not take my word for it that his powers wouldn’t work. And here I was, a licensed Hero with a costume, a cape, a lair, and everything. Insulting.
Finally, Antonio gave up. He pointed a thick finger at me. “Let me out of here!” he demanded.
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Let me out of here right now you little piece of shit. I got my rights!”
“Not here you don’t. As far as I’m concerned, you forfeited any rights you had when you killed Hannah.”
“I’m telling you, I didn’t kill nobody.”
“And I’m telling you I don’t believe you. Besides, even in the unlikely you’re telling me the truth, you still used to beat her black and blue. Plus, I know you committed a bunch of other crimes over the years you managed to escape punishment for.”
“So what are you gonna do? Turn me over to the cops?”
“And have you or the Esposito family bribe you out of this mess?” I shook my head. “No. I’m not handing you over to the police. I’ve grown to be less than impressed with the Astor City justice system. I’ll take care of you myself.”
“Take care of me yourself? What’s that supposed to mean. Kill me? You say you’re a Hero. Heroes aren’t supposed to kill people.”
“We don’t.” I thought of the Sentinels. “Well, most of us don’t. Back when I was in Hero Academy, I was taught that a Hero shouldn’t play the role of judge, jury, and executioner. I think my teachers were right. Heroes are too powerful to be allowed to take people’s lives. So, as much as you deserve it, I won’t execute you. I will happily be judge and jury minus the executioner part, though. Somebody’s got to sit in judgment of people like you since the judicial system won’t.”
I took a breath. “For the crimes of the murder of Hannah Kim, the assault and battery of Hannah Kim, the rape of Hannah Kim, multiple instances of use of Metahuman powers by an unlicensed Meta, and various other crimes perpetrated on numerous people over the years, I hereby sentence you to life in prison with no possibility of parole. Your sentence shall begin immediately. Welcome to your new prison cell. It’s got all the comforts of home. You’ll see that I stocked it with canned foods that will last you until my next visit, plus bottles of water. That large can over there with the lid on it will have to serve as a toilet for now until I have a chance to install a proper one. Later, I’ll bring you’re a change of clothes. Perhaps an orange jumpsuit. That’s all assuming I survive my encounter with the people I need to deal with after I finish with you. If I don’t, since no one else knows you’re here . . .” I trailed off. I shrugged. “Suffice it to say that in the event of my untimely demise, your life imprisonment will last as long as your food and water do. There are worse ways to die than starvation and dehydration. Having a hole blown through you by the man who professes to love you springs to mind.”
I shook my head in disgust. I was disgusted with myself as much as I was with Antonio.
“I’ll be honest with you, Mad Dog. Keeping you here is a punishment for me too. Me breaking into your apartment and attacking you led to Hannah’s death. If it weren’t for me, she might be alive today. Your presence here will serve as a constant reminder of the mistakes I’ve made. My mistakes can get people killed.”
Antonio’s pig eyes had grown wide with disbelief as I spoke.
“You can’t keep me here. I’ve got my rights. It’s . . . it’s . . . it’s against the law,” he sputtered.
His chutzpah made me laugh out loud.
“You’re one to talk about the law.” I waved my fingers at him. “Hello pot. I’m kettle. Yes, what I’m doing is very much against the law. The problem you’ve got is that there are no cops or lawyers or judges up here for you to complain to. There’s no clerk of court here for you to file a writ of habeas corpus with. There’s just me and you. And believe me, I’ve been through too much, seen too much, and watched too many good people die for no good reason to give a rat’s ass about your rights. What about Hannah’s rights?” And Dad’s and Neha’s, I added silently.
I was tired of talking to Antonio. I wanted to get out of here and go face the Sentinels. To get Neha back. I said, “Just between me and you, I’ll let you in on a little secret: I’m not sure how much I believe in the law anymore. Too many people flout the law and get away with it for me to have a whole lot of faith in it. Sometimes I wonder if the law is just a smokescreen to keep the weak out of the hair of the rich and powerful long enough for them to be exploited and taken advantage of. My father never broke a law in his life, yet he had to struggle every day to barely make ends meet before a group of assholes put him into an early grave. Those same assholes are not only very much alive, they’re free as birds and well-respected to boot despite breaking the law left and right. How great can slavishly following the law be if that sort of thing happens?” I thought of the Trials, my life in Astor City so far, and how corrupt so many people were. The Sentinels, Pitbull, Brown Recluse, the Astor City Police Department, Mitch and the flunkeys under him who dealt drugs on my street . . . the list seemed endless.
I cut myself short, realizing I was speechifying. A side effect of
wearing a cape, maybe. If I put my fists on my waist and stuck my chest out, the pretentious picture would be complete.
I did not do that. Instead I said, “Even if my faith in the law is shaky these days, I still firmly believe in justice. Which is why you’re staying here. So make yourself at home. You’ll be here for a while.”
I turned to leave. Antonio started pounding furiously on his cell wall. I looked back at him. His face was mottled with rage.
“Look at you, with your fancy costume and fancy cape and fancy words,” he screamed at me. His spittle flecked the cell’s front wall. “It all means nothing. I see what you are. You do what you want because you have the power to do it. Just like me. You act like you’re better than me, but you’re not. We’re exactly the same.”
I paused.
“You know what? You’re right. Maybe I’m no better than you. But maybe that’s what the world needs—someone in the muck, right alongside people like you, to make sure you stay in the muck where you belong, well away from innocents.”
I had my fill of bandying words with this killer. I walked toward the portal leading back to Astor City. Mad Dog’s screams for me to come back fell on deaf ears.
26
I stood once again in the Situation Room with the Sentinels. Not everything was the same as the last time I was here. For one thing, the room was no longer pristine and glistening with shine. Now, much of the room was under construction. It gave me grim satisfaction to see all the damage I had caused when I was last here. Though the Sentinels had repaired some of it, they had not fixed all of it. All the monitors were dark as apparently Sentry was offline due to the damage. There was a huge hole in the ceiling, and one of the room’s walls was partially collapsed.
The damage was merely a good start as far as I was concerned. If it were up to me, I would cave the entire mansion in on itself. The Sentinels who weren’t psychopaths could then rebuild, this time hopefully without the murderous juju this place had.
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