by Nick Svolos
Ultiman leaned forward. He knew where I was going with this. “I would call a debriefing.”
“That’s what I thought. You were smart to have the camera just on you, trying to hide your numbers, but she knows you too well. She knew the team was sitting here.” I looked at each remaining team member. “She could have just told Ultiman to meet her at the Coliseum in an hour and said all that stuff to his face. That whole monologue was for your benefit. She doesn’t have to kill you guys to destroy the team. She just handed you the dirty laundry and stepped back to let you destroy the team yourselves.”
I turned to the hero of West Hollywood. “Bill, you can leave and I don’t think anyone would blame you. But if you do, you should know that you’re giving the woman who killed Phoenix Fire exactly what she wants.”
Bill stood by the elevator. The doors opened, and then closed. “Okay, I guess I’m still here.” He returned to his seat and glared at his team’s leader. “This isn’t over, though, Ultiman. Once this thing is done, we’re all going to have a discussion.”
“Understood,” Ultiman said. He added quietly, “Thank you.”
Herculene leapt to her feet. “I’ll go talk to Mentalia.” She ran to the elevator. As it opened, SpeedDamon stepped out. His face was bandaged, but he was in good spirits. “Hey guys, I heard there was a meeting. What’d I miss?”
Herculene laughed. “That’s my cue to leave.” She entered the elevator and the doors closed behind her.
The confused SpeedDamon joined us at the table and we quickly brought him up to speed. He considered the situation carefully and asked, “Okay, so we assume Gale knows we’re all coming. How do we do this? Do we have a plan?”
“We were just about to get to that when you came in,” Ultiman replied. He turned to Steve, asking, “Do we really know Archdemon is gone? Are you sure Gale cannot hear us?”
The tech thought for a moment, “Well, I’m pretty sure about Archdemon, but I’ll feel more confident when the day shift gets in and verifies my work. I can disable Archangel’s microphones. That’ll keep her from listening in. I’ll do the cameras, too, in case she can lip-read. But Galestorm’s people have had unrestricted access to this place for years. They could have put listening devices anywhere. Could be I’m paranoid, but maybe we should be. Ben, when was the last time you guys swept for bugs?”
Ben was already reaching for his walkie-talkie. “About a week ago, maybe two. I’ll get a team up here.”
“How long will that take?” Ultiman asked.
“Probably too long. A room this size could take a while.”
Ultiman got up and looked out the window. “Very well. Mr. Higgins, please continue your excellent work. Remain here and wait for the day shift. Make sure the Tower is secure. Mr. Jefferson, have your people get started sweeping the building. Take what forces you can spare and go to the Coliseum. Make sure the area is clear of civilians. Lieutenant Dawson, any assistance you can provide in keeping the area clear of innocents would be appreciated. Angels, please meet me on the roof of that building.” He pointed a couple of blocks away. “If someone could let Herculene and Mentalia know where we have gone, that would be helpful.”
He turned back towards us and continued. “Gentlemen, I cannot express how sorry I am for all of this. My sins have come back and they have been visited upon you. I have allowed myself to become complacent. All of this,” he gestured at the room around us, “Has been a trap, set by my enemy. I never saw it coming, and you have paid the price. I owe you better than this. I have no right to expect it, but all I can do is ask for your forgiveness.” He turned and flew out the open window.
Three Dollar Bill got up and watched him leave. “Looks like I’m going to need a helicopter to get over there.”
Suave got up and walked to the elevator. “One never notices how reliant they are on conveniences until they are gone. Vamos, Bill. Let’s see if we can hail a taxi.” Bill joined him and Steve Higgins in the elevator and they were gone.
SpeedDamon walked to a cabinet on the wall, withdrawing several energy bars. He unwrapped one and quickly ate it while stuffing the rest into a pocket. When he was finished, he grinned at us and said, “Time to go save the world. Good luck, fellas.” His feet blurred as he rubbed them on the carpet to build up a static charge and zipped out the window, running down the side of the Tower.
Ben was just finishing up with issuing orders to the security team, and Dawson was on the phone arranging police support at the Coliseum. I went around the table, collecting up the evidence and putting everything back in the envelope. I folded the package and stuck it in my pants pocket. We all met at the elevator and shared the ride down.
“So, what are you gonna do, Conway?” Dawson asked.
I pressed the button for Mentalia’s floor. “I’ll go tell the ladies where the rest of the team went. Don’t wait for me if you’re ready to go. I’ll find a way to the stadium.”
“Alright. Meet ya there. Good luck.”
The elevator stopped at the thirty-fifth floor and waited while the reactivated Archangel announced our presence. After a moment, the door opened.
Ben said, “Don’t push Mentalia too hard, OK. She’ll do the right thing, but she’s gotta come around to it on her own.”
“Gotcha.” I left the car. “Good luck, guys.” The heavy doors closed behind me and I heard the two women quietly talking in the bedroom. The door was closed, so I decided to wait. The couch was still askew from our rescue effort earlier that morning, so I pushed it back into place and took a seat. To keep myself busy, I got out my phone and texted my editor, telling him where I was and requesting a photographer to meet me at the Coliseum as soon as possible. After a few seconds, Harry texted me back to tell me a shutterbug was on the way.
I leaned back and closed my eyes. I was very tired but couldn’t let myself fall asleep, so I stood up and paced about the room, trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation in the other room. I stopped to admire the view out the window, and a few minutes later, Herculene poked her head out of the bedroom door. “Oh, it’s you.” Her eyes were red from recent crying. She walked over to join me. “It doesn’t look good. She’s pretty torn up about all this,” she quietly commented.
“I don’t blame her. How ‘bout you?”
She sighed. “The same, I guess. I can’t believe he would be so stupid. On the other hand, I’m not so angry that I’m going to stand by and let Gale win.”
“In that case, you should know that the team is meeting on the roof over there to plan their next move.” I pointed towards the building Ultiman had selected. “We think the Tower might still be compromised.”
“Hmm. Think Galestorm might have planted some bugs?”
“Exactly.”
“OK. Let me tell Mentalia and we’ll go.”
I looked at her in surprise. “Not gonna tell me to stay here?”
“You wouldn’t listen if I did.” She shrugged. “Besides, it should be a heck of a story. Be right back.”
Herculene went into the bedroom, and the two women spoke quietly for a moment. She emerged and pressed a button beneath one of the windows. It slid aside and a warm breeze blew in.
“This should be fun,” she said as she knelt down. “Climb on.”
My stomach tried to claw its way past my lungs “Are you crazy? We’re thirty-some stories up!”
She smirked. “Don’t be such a big baby. I can jump off the roof of this thing.”
“Have you ever done it with a passenger?”
Herculene giggled. “That’s the fun part. Just hang on tight and turn your head if you have to barf.”
She wasn’t leaving me much in the way of choices, so I climbed onto her back. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I shrugged my left arm free of the sling, ignoring the pain and wrapped my arms around her neck, held on tight and closed my eyes. Herculene placed her arms under my legs, stood up and started forward.
I heard laughter behind me. I turned to see Mentalia standing in th
e bedroom doorway. “Herc, let the poor guy off the hook, already.”
Herculene was giggling as she turned her to me and said, “Gotcha!” She released her grip on my legs and let me drop to the floor.
I boggled at Mentalia. “Wait, you’re coming?”
“Of course, I’m coming. I’m pissed, but I’m not stupid.” Mentalia snorted between peals of laughter. “Oh God, you should see the look on your face.”
Herculene chortled. “I’m sorry, Rube. I just couldn’t resist.”
I joined in the laughter. It was a pretty good gag. “Okay, I know when I’ve been had. Good one.”
“Glad you’re a good sport, hon. Our girl here has a thing for practical jokes.” Mentalia added with a sly grin, “You’ll have to get used to that.”
“Hey!” Herculene looked a little embarrassed.
“Sister, please. I ain’t blind, honey. Now, let’s get going.” Mentalia encased us in a telekinetic bubble and we flew out the open window. I looked back to see it slide closed behind us.
I focused very hard on not looking down. Flying over the city in a purple bubble of psychic force was a better way to travel than the “Herculene Express”, but not by much.
XV
The brief flight over to where The Angels planned to meet was uneventful. Terrifying, if you happen to have a thing about heights, but uneventful. There was no wind as we traveled—the bubble functioned much like a windshield—and when I touched it, its surface was smooth, like glass. Mentalia provided a flat platform on the bottom of the sphere, which allowed us to stand easily rather than stumbling around on the concave bottom. Mentalia hung at the center of the sphere, managing her task without much effort.
The trip only took about a minute. As we touched down, Ultiman and SpeedDamon were waiting for us. Three Dollar Bill and Suave emerged from the rooftop elevator a second later. Bill smiled to see Mentalia with us, and he walked over and gave her a big hug. “I’m glad you’re here. You could have saved us some cab fare, though.”
“Make Ultiman reimburse you,” she grinned mischievously. The rest of the team came together in a small circle on the helipad. I took out my phone and snapped some photos before I took the open spot in the company of heroes.
“Thank you all for coming,” Ultiman said. Without waiting for any response, he launched into a description of Gale’s powers. “Gale is one of the most powerful people I have ever known. As you might already know, she has complete control over the weather. She can generate winds in excess of one hundred fifty kilometers per hour, roughly the equivalent of a category two hurricane. She can also create rain out of the moisture in the air and generate lightning, so there will be a considerable risk of electrocution. She can fly, but I believe she will keep the fight localized to the Coliseum to minimize the risk of hurting civilians. She is also quite resilient. Back in Korea, she took a direct hit from an La-11’s cannon battery. She simply shrugged it off and knocked the fighter from the sky. I must confess, I do not have a plan to beat her. If you have suggestions, now is the time to present them.”
Herculene spoke. “You used ‘hurricane’ to describe her power. What’s it like if you get close to her? Are the winds calm, like in the eye of a storm?”
Ultiman considered the possibility, “That is a good question. I think it is worth trying.”
SpeedDamon observed, “If that’s the case, then directly above and below might be safe, too.” He shrugged. “Well, safer, anyway.”
Suave added, “I am concerned about the lightning. Those of us who cannot fly will be excellent targets. Do we have any way to protect ourselves from this?”
“Like a lightning rod or something?” Mentalia asked.
He shook his head. “No, I think a lightning rod would just get blown down, and with all the water around, it would probably not work, anyway. I am thinking of something more like an insulated suit. Do we have anything like that?”
Ultiman said, “I do not believe so, at least, I have never seen anything like that in our inventory.”
Mentalia said, “Well, I might be able to shield some of us, at least to some extent. Of course, if I’m doing that, I won’t be able to do much else.”
“It might work,” Ultiman said with a nod. “That is essentially the same tactic Sky Chief used to beat Tesloid in the 1930’s. Just remember to ground the shield, otherwise you could get hit with feedback. Start small and work your way up when you know what you can handle.
The team spent a minute or two outlining a plan. It wasn’t really a plan, more like a set of initial moves. I was surprised it wasn’t more detailed. I could only guess that they knew each other and what they could do so well, it didn’t warrant the effort. Besides, I got the impression that they didn’t think any plan they might have put together would last beyond the first punch.
Stormclouds began to gather to the Southwest of us, dark and heavy, loaded with moisture. Gail was getting set up at the Coliseum. It was time.
He looked each of The Angels in the eye before saying, “Thank you all for coming. Suave, you are with me. Mentalia, please transport everyone else. We will see you there.” With that, Suave hopped up on Ultiman’s back, and they flew off towards the gathering storm. Mentalia gathered the rest of us in her bubble and moments later we were hurtling south along the 110.
Herculene reached down and squeezed my hand. “So, where are you gonna be?”
“Drop me off with the cops. The Beacon’s sending a photographer, so I’ll pick him up and head to the press box. It’s got strong, thick plastic windows, so it should be the safest place to work.”
She nodded. “Good.”
I lifted her hand and kissed it. “You be careful out there, okay?”
She smiled. “I believe that’s my line.”
As we passed over St. John’s Cathedral, Mentalia dropped us low in a stomach-clenching descent, using the buildings to mask our approach. Seconds later, she dropped me off near a cluster of policemen, and with quickly exchanged “Good Lucks”, the bubble moved on into the stadium.
Dawson was standing at the center of the cluster of cops, issuing last minute orders to the uniformed men and women. “Remember, we’re here to protect the community. Keep people off the streets and in their homes. Let the superfolk deal with whatever happens inside the stadium.” The police officers trotted off to their assigned posts. He turned to me. “Conway. I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“How could I miss it? Say, I’m looking for a photog from the Beacon. Has he checked in?”
“He’s a ‘she’,” he said, “That’s her over there.” He pointed off towards the barricades where a young woman I didn’t recognize was hopping up and down, her arms in the air, trying to get my attention. Dawson waved her through. The shutterbug was wearing tan cargo pants and a black Megadeth concert t-shirt. She was Asian-Indian, had long black hair in a ponytail, and two cameras and her press pass dangled from her neck. She ran over to us and introduced herself, holding up her press pass for Dawson to inspect. “Ratna Banerjee from the Beacon. You Reuben Conway?”
We shook hands. “Yep. This is Lieutenant Dawson, LAPD.”
They exchanged greetings, and Dawson turned back to me. “So, any idea what we should be expecting?” he asked.
“Basically, a cat two hurricane. Heavy winds, rain, and lightning. Ultiman thinks she’ll want to keep the fight inside the Coliseum. Hopefully it won’t be too bad out here.”
He nodded. “Let’s hope it plays out that way. I got my people on the outside to keep the thrill-seekers out. Speaking of which, where’re you gonna be?”
“Press booth,” I said as I started toward the stadium gate.
He called out as Ratna and I jogged away, “Good luck. Try not to get killed. I got enough paperwork already.”
Ratna and I entered the gate and I led the way around to the press booth on the south side of the stadium. There’s an elevator on the ground level that takes you right up, and I knew the code from many trips here in the pa
st. One of the perks of being a local reporter.
As we rode up, I asked Ratna, “I don’t think we’ve met. How long you been with the Beacon?”
She was almost bouncing with excitement. “About a month. Been freelancing for a few years, though.”
“Welcome to the paper. You ever shot a superfight before?”
“No. Anything I should know?”
“Stay out of their way. Any one of them could kill us just by accident, so don’t risk yourself to get a shot. Things move quick, too, so just keep shooting when you’re not hiding. If you try to line things up for a perfect shot, you’ll miss it. Plus, while you’re lining up a shot, you might miss something coming your way and get hurt. Treat it like a war zone.”
She gulped. She wasn’t bouncing now. “War zone. Got it.”
“Good. Now, we’re just gonna try to stay in the press box. Should be safe, but if something happens, be ready to move. Take the stairs down, not the elevator, and rally where we met Dawson. Don’t worry about me, your gear or anything other than getting out.”
She started to fidget. I could tell that she was just starting to realize what she had gotten herself into. There was fear in her eyes.
“Take a deep breath. You’re scared, and that’s good. You should be. But you gotta stay calm. ‘Scared’ doesn’t get you killed. ‘Scared’ is how you know you’re sane. Panic is what gets you killed. Keep breathing, stay calm and you’ll make good decisions.”
She took a deep breath, held it and let it out. “Okay. Right.”
“Good,” I said as the elevator doors opened. “Just stay close to me. Nothing bad ever happens to me.”
She took in my torn clothes, the bandage on my face and the cast on my arm. “That’s not very convincing,” she observed.
I grinned and spread my arms expansively, “Would you believe I just dress like this to get attention from women?” She shook her head. “Well, OK, it’s been a rough couple of days, but I’m still alive. See, nothing bad happened!” I exited the elevator and turned left to the open press area where I planned to set up shop, pointing out the emergency stairs as we walked by them. We passed several locked booths where the broadcasters rented space. The press box had two levels, and we were on the bottom one. The general press area was an open space in the center of the bottom floor, bordered by television and radio booths on either side. It held five rows of stadium chairs, a water fountain and several holes in the rear wall where phone booths used to be. A clock on the wall told me it was almost eight o’clock.
