welshman_EU

Monday 22nd December
50 miles north of North Platte
Nebraska

The wind whipped lightly across the snow that had fallen to the north of Lincoln County, and across a single car that had parked to the side of Highway 83. Its occupants were no-where to be seen although an experienced tracker would probably have just caught the faint sight of boot-prints fading into the white as they headed westwards across the empty landscape.

“Why are we here?” The parka wearing Wolf Blade enquired, speaking into her headset.
“We’re here because of Crey.” Hunter replied.
“And they’re here because?”
“They own it.”
“Oh. All you said was meet us at North Platte regional.” She looked at the others, similarly attired as they were. “What’s going on?”
Markham filled her in.

Wild had discovered the full extent of Reclaim. Over the last few years Crey had begun losing its place at the pinnacle of technology, with other companies like Benedict tech and Mercator electrics chipping away at their stranglehold. Half of the products they made, Crey had discovered, were adaptations of things Crey themselves had made or the technology involved was similar. So Crey, in their usual ruthless way, had a plan to reclaim their throne. A simulated EMP burst over the city from high altitude and everything not protected against EMP is rendered useless. Technology rendered inert. Hospitals go dark. Pacemakers stop. Trains collide. Cars die. War walls drop and heroes fall from the sky.

“But that’s crazy!” Blade replied. “Everyone would know it was them!”
“Knowing and proving are two different things, Wolf.” Hunter replied. “And Crey have been smart. Got a call from an associate yesterday with the final piece of the puzzle. He found it in King’s Row.”
“Who?” Markham asked.
“Detective Daffyd Mason.”
Markham rolled her eyes behind her glasses. “That idiot’s here in Paragon?”
Hunter nodded. “Hero liaison. He hit a Freaks warehouse yesterday. On the trail of some who’d been doing ‘off-the-books’ work for Crey. Tech chapter. He found their payment. Hardened Electrics. This goes up, their enemies get fried, and they don’t. Then Crey blames them, sics the protectors on them and comes up looking just another victim with foresight.”
The group of four continued trudging up the slight incline.
“So, why are we HERE?” Blade repeated.
“Four years back, there was a missile silo under here.” Markham advised. “Crey bought it. Or, rather, one of their subsidiaries did. Seems a good place to launch from.”

Tygerboy, still wearing just his normal armour as he claimed he didn’t feel the cold, again volunteered to take to the air to search. Hunter turned him down on the grounds that he could be detected up there. “So how do we know where to go?” He asked.
“Satellites show cabins about a half mile ahead.” Hunter replied into his Fur-lined hood. “They’re where we’re headed.” He checked his compass again as he continued to crunch snow. Wolf Blade slipped slightly but kept herself upright. “M’okay.”
“Wasn’t asking.” Tyger remarked.
“God, I could go for a Brandy now.” Markham replied.

A half hour later, they came across the complex and dropped to the ground. A fence surrounding it with guard towers that hadn’t been in the satellite photos. “They’re new.” Markham remarked. “And kinda inconvenient. How do we get in?” Hunter considered things. “Distraction. Worked before. You and Tyger give me an’ Wolf thirty minutes to move to a different section then attack that Watchtower.”
“And the Fence?” She asked.
“Probably Electrified. Better you hit it before Tyger.” She smiled a frosty smile.

Hunter and Blade made their way around to the left, staying out of sight of the base at all times as they moved. Blade had gloves on her hands and her swords around the gloves. It wasn’t a feeling she liked, her connection to the swords broken. But, she considered, it was better than a PERMANENT connection to the swords. And, to think, this time yesterday she’d been in Hawaii. She’d even bought them presents. Then she’d had to hop a fight to Denver as only Denver served this frozen state’s airport regularly. Not the way she’d planned to end her holiday. And what WAS the deal with Markham and those glasses?

Hunter spent the time moving around thinking about Coffee and Mulled wine.

Tyger spent the time wondering about what he was supposed to get Juniper for Christmas and, far more worrying to him, what SHE was getting HIM for Christmas. He was dreading a repeat of the light blue, padded, battle armour she’d bought him last year. He’d had to wear it out for a week. Then he managed to slide it into a wardrobe. And, hopefully, out of sight was out of mind. What was it she’d wanted? Some sort of pony thing, wasn’t it? Never mind. He’d get it wrong again. She’d giggle.

Markham thought about punching Druids like she’d been doing last Christmas.
Ten minutes later, Markham charged the fence and grimaced as 50,000 volts flowed through her as the fence broke. It would take her a few minutes to recover and Tyger sped over her form as she lay, spread-eagle on the fence. She decided she'd make him pay for that later, as the furry young warrior assaulted the first three guards he saw. His shrouded right fist went in low on the first guard, shattering his left kneecap before Tyger brought his elbow straight back into the groin of the man behind him and striking out at the third with his left. Markham began pulling herself off the fence as the alarms began sounding.

Hunter and Blade watched most of the guards running across the complex. “Fly us over.” He asked Blade.
“You kidding?” The teenager asked. “You any idea how much you weigh?”
“Yes, but I’m not telling you.” He pressed a button. “Half gravity generator. Should make it easier.” She lifted him over the fence and dropped him. “You realise we’ll be on cameras?” She asked.
“Of course but then…” The rest of Hunter’s reply was cut off by the tannoy.
<<Emergency launch procedures initiated.>> The voice said Hunter stopped before he entered the main patch of ground. <<All forces to security zones.>> The ground shuddered and Hunter jumped back as the ground cracked and juddered. I silo lid opened itself against the snow. Without looking too far down, Hunter could see it was far larger than it should be for a normal missile. The nose tip also looked a lot like an Ariane 5 rocket. A further glance down showed a gantry. With three protectors looking back at them.
“Oh fu..” Once again, Hunter’s words were cut off by the tannoy. <<Launch in T Minus Five minutes.>> It warned.

Saturday 20th December
Galaxy City
The Warehouse.

“You realise this plan of yours is too risky?” Elisabeth Markham told Hunter. “You’ll be exposing yourself to great danger?”
Hunter shrugged and sipped his coffee. “If I didn’t want the danger, I’d probably take up knitting and stop throwing myself off rooftops. Besides, we’ve planned this now.”
Captain Markham walked around him to the console he was pointing at. The console with the schematic on it. The layout of the Founders Falls base. One of Crey’s flagship buildings. She turned the display off. “You need a bodyguard.” She pointed out. Hunter smiled.

Monday 22nd December
Founders Falls.

Snowfall glistened in the sky as it came down towards the ground in a seasonal display that delighted and worried people throughout the city. The young saw the chance for sledging, the elders saw the snowed in vehicles. People slipped and skidded and played and laughed and most of them avoided the ‘gifts’ that were strewn on the street and remembered the fear of years past when Jack Frost had frozen the water and plagued the land.

Hunter, currently decked out in a business suit, moved to one side as the children pushed past him, whooping and staring open mouthed at the Paragon Protector that was standing in the corner, seemingly watching everything. He walked over to the reception desk as an older woman tried to corral the children. “Bit noisy here.” He said to the receptionist in a lilting, welsh, accent. “Wasn’t quite expectin’ this.”
“School visit,” replied the large, blonde, woman behind the desk. Was she, Hunter considered, a Protector in mufti? She had the build. “Kids & teens. Christmas thing. And you are?”
Hunter looked taken aback, then realised. “Oh!” He pulled out a card. “Mark Reynolds, Reynolds exporting. Also Founder of Reynolds Electrical Systems in the UK.” He smiled. “Current boss heard I was here, arranged an appointment with a Miss Alexandra for 1000. Wants to establish…”
“Wait over there.” The Amazon pointed to a settee on the other side of the reception area. Hunter looked around. There was a nearer settee. He made for it. “They know where to pick you up from where you’re sitting.” The receptionist told him sternly. “Over there!” Hunter made his way over to the other settee, smiling at the children.

Outside, in the expensive car that had brought the Hunter to the base, Markham chafed inside her Chauffeurs outfit. This had not been what she had in mind. She pulled herself out of the vehicle and glowered at a Crey thug who was looking her way, her gaze somehow made harder by her glasses.

After the children had gone inside with a man in a blue suit, a lady approached, her shoes clacking on the red tile floor as she came. Black executive trousers, white shirt and a black jacket betrayed her managerial status to Hunter who was, not co-incidentally, wearing the male equivalent. “Mr Reynolds?” She asked, holding out a hand.
“Hmm?” Hunter replied. “Oh, yes.” He stood and shook the hand. “Very nice to meet you. Miss Alexandra, I take it?”
“Ms.” She corrected.
“Of course.” She headed back across the reception area. “You could have used this settee,” she said, “saved me walking.”
“I think I irritated your receptionist.” Hunter replied as Ms Alexandra swiped her card and opened the door. Hunter followed her through into the main area.

Five minutes later, they entered a small security office and Ms Alexandra gestured for Hunter to be seated on one side of the desk. “Drink?” She offered. Hunter declined. “So, what is it you think…” - she checked her sheets again – “Reynolds Electrical Systems can do for Crey?”
Hunter leaned in and kept an eye on the monitors on the wall. Kids being escorted, the car park and the hallways with people moving. “We can offer a manufacturing base in the UK and another in the Isle of Man which is, as you may know, a tax haven island. We have engineering contracts with a number of large scale manufacturing concerns and Donald is planning on branching out into home electricals.”
She looked him straight. “Crey is already taking steps to establish itself in the European market. A base there could be of use to us but dealing with management could be an issue, eh, Mr Hunter?” The door behind him opened and two large scale security guards entered. “Did you really think we were that stupid?” She asked, her voice sharper. “You raid our Skyway office under the guise of ‘helping’ a young hero and then think you can just walk in here?” One of the guards moved around behind Hunter whilst the other kept station by the door.
Hunter leaned back. “As you seem to ‘ave me at a disadvantage,“ Hunter replied, “Care to tell me what ‘Project Reclaim’ is?”
She smiled. “No.” She remarked sweetly. “It’s your turn to answer questions. What are you doing here?”
“I’d have thought that was obvious, luv.” Hunter’s smile faded to a hard gaze. “I’m giving you something to look at.” On cue the alarms went off.
<Intruder in the secure wing!> One of the guards’ radios stated. <All security needed! Possible hostile intent!>
Ms Alexandra looked confused, then angry. “Your friends won’t get anything from there!” She gestured for one of the guards to follow her as the other was made to remain. Hunter smiled as the door closed.

“Report!” Miss Alexandra barked at the researcher who had the intruder cornered. She looked at the ginger haired, callow youth and wondered what all the fuzz was about.
“Found him in the chemical labs.” The researcher commented. “Making smoke bombs.”
“For THIS you called a security alert?” She asked.
“He knew our security codes and, when he saw me, he took off like a rabbit. Figured I’d better call in back-up.” Alexandra nodded. “Security alert over.” She said into her radio. “One for the cells, I think.” She gestured to the remaining protector and the researcher. Take him.
“Wait.” The boy said, standing up. “There’s something you should know.”
Alexandra snorted. “And what’s that?” She asked. The boy threw a punch at the researcher. Somewhere midway between the start and the finish, the fist changed, sprouting orange and black fur as the fingers tapered off into small bone claws as black energy trailed behind it. The researcher took the blow full in the face and dropped. “I hit women.” Tyger replied. So saying he punched Alexandra and engaged the Protector, who was sprouting bone spurs. He felt his shirt rip as one of the poisoned spikes entered his shoulder. His punch landed solidly on the hidden mans’ chin. He felt like shouting his happiness as the alarms went off again.
Outside, the car moved off.

Three hours later .
A cafe in Talos

Hunter looked up from his latte as Tyger walked in and sat down. “You could have changed, you know?” He asked the pale looking youth.
“Fur attracts attention. Wish I didn’t have to use the ‘hospital plan’ route.” Tyger replied, seating himself. “I’ll have an Irish coffee.” He declared to the waitress. She glanced at Hunter. “He’ll have a coffee, hold the Irish.” Tyger grunted, and then relented as Hunter slipped a tiny bottle of Macallan across the table as soon as the waitresses back was turned. “Oh, and a lemonade for my sister.” Hunter remarked, drawing the waitress’s attention back as a young brunette entered the café. She looked around, sighted them and came over. “You get it?” Hunter asked.
“Benefit of being a shifter.” Wild Child replied happily. “They left me alone for a few minutes with those alarms going off. I know what it’s about. And why it needs stopping.”

Friday 19th December
Somewhere else entirely.
The hooded figure ran along the torch-lit passageway, trying to flee the oncoming force. The two invaders were taking everything that could be thrown at them. Fire troops, Earth troops, mages and guides. All had confronted them. All were now broken and transported. He was not going the same way. He was… He felt the heat as the behemoth picked him up. It stared him full in the face, threatening to burn his face with it’s internal heat. “You run from two?” It asked, it’s voice booming off the walls. “Do you doubt the power of the circle? Our right to rebuild this world in our image? “ It pulled him closer. “For this you should suffer an eternity of ignominy.”
“And that begins with smelling your putrid breath?” Elizabeth Markham asked from a little way down the corridor. She had been wearing a jumper before coming down here but there were merely threads of that left now. Her shirt was likewise torn but her skin underneath was showing barely a mark. Her impervium enhanced bra was intact, though, as were her glasses. She beckoned him in. The behemoth threw the guide over his shoulder and Markham heard a crack as he landed badly. The creature roared and charged.

Markham broke his jaw with her first punch.

Galaxy City
The Warehouse.

Hunter found his mind drifting as he waited for Wild’s report on what he’d found yesterday. That boys’ comment had gotten under the skin . Can you train me? It was all he’d said. It was a desire to get better. To improve. To save lives. To leave childhood behind. It hadn’t been a choice he’d ever had, he realised. Forever with a different teacher, a different city as his parents moved around, driven to improve. Not improve themselves but improve him. Using their money to create someone who could fight like they never could and fight those they never would. He’d joined the army and found himself distant from them and able to temper their enthusiasm with the knowledge of how to REALLY fight, how to pick your battles and how to build things for the future. Now he was rich, having found the ‘Fortune’ he was ‘Hunting’ for. Sales of his book on heroing and the prices paid for it had sold well in Britain and BFPO shops. Here in the USA? Not so well as it competed with the better known heroes for shelf space. Ah, well.

Orenbega

“So,” Tygerboy asked warily as he rejoined the Captain who was holding the Behemoth up and slapping him around the face, “What’re we here for?”
“One’” {SLAP!} “Moment, Tyger.” She head butted the creature, dropped it and kicked it in the ribs before slapping a teleport tab on it. “To the M.A.G.I. cells with you.”
“Do M.A.G.I have cells?”
“Buggered if I know.” Markham shrugged. “Hope they don’t just sling them in the zig. Anyhow. You asked why we were here?” You remember about three years back, that time when someone managed to rob everyone of their powers?”
“Three years ago, Juniper and I were in the year 2055.” Tyger grunted. “Fighting a squirrel invasion force from space.”
“Oh.” Markham replied, utterly dumbfounded. She shook her head. “Anyway. Manticore and the Phalanx managed to get everyone their powers back by way of faith and magic. Two days ago, an Oranbegan got a message to a friend of mine…”
“Hang on,” Tyger interrupted. “Aren’t ALL Circle Oranbegans and vice versa?”
“No. Pay attention. The Oranbegans are from a world where the thorns are cuddly, puppy hugging, pacifists.”
“Oh.” Said Tyger, utterly dumbfounded.
“Anyway, he tells my contact that, if magic gave everyone their powers back, perhaps a SIMILAR spell exists that can grant permanent grafts of power to people en masse. Imagine the Thorns with an army of Statesman types. Our one advantage is that their library is so vast they don’t really have a clue what they have in here. So we’re on a bring and burn mission.”
“Bring and burn?”
“What we can’t bring out, we burn.”

Galaxy City

<I have those results you wanted.> Said the prancing pony on the screen. <And get your feet off the console!>
Hunter swung his feet off the console and onto the floor before he considered how stupid it was that he was taking orders from a 12 year old girl who hid her ID from unwanted hackers with a ‘prancing pony’ motif. “What’s the score?” He asked.
<1-0 to me, I think. Oh, the test results you mean?> Hunter knew she was smiling behind that Avatar. <Well, the blueprints are really interesting. It’s not so much what they’re doing but what they’re doing it to. I’ll show you.> The first blueprint came up on screen. It was a chip. Hunter knew that. It looked… well… chippy. <It’s a modified chip.> Wild advised him.
“Modified how?” He asked.
<Modified to resist EMP. Logical in this city. It regulates power supply. Several of the other blueprints contain chips that do other things. They’re all re-enforced too. Now we’ll play ‘can you guess what it is yet.> Several of the chips appeared on the screen, connected by lines and drawings as a 3-D image began to appear. It fleshed out into the chest piece of the armour worn by their Volt tanks. “Understandable.” Hunter mused. A second appeared. Hunter guessed it was a car. He guessed right. <Third one’ll get you.> Wild ventured. It appeared. The layout looked odd. Bizarre even. Hunter guessed it was a firearm. <Nope> It panned out a little. A Television? <Nope> Further. Hunter admitted he couldn’t guess. The picture pulled out to it’s furthest distance and Hunters’ brow creased as he looked at…
“A toaster?” He asked. “Are you being serious, Wild?”
The horse nodded. <It’s a $12 toaster. The chip costs $20. So the question becomes ‘why are Crey protecting their toasters against Electro-Magnetic Pulses?>
Hunter mused. “I think we should ask them, don’t you?”

Thursday 18th December
Skyway City

The boy ran through the hallway, breathing hard as his cape dragged behind him and his wounded face left a trail of small red dots behind him. The creature behind him roared as it gave chase, stomping the tacks he’d thrown down as though they were Tic Tacs instead. The youth headed down a corridor and skidded to a halt. Four doors. All locked. He focussed and tried a telekinetic blast on a door. It didn’t budge. Not even slightly. The Ogre appeared at the end of the corridor. He pointed a finger. “You dead, hero. Maybe they patch you at hospital but they have to try hard!” He advanced towards the boy.

Ice spread around his feet, holding the Ogre in place as a Cryo pistol did its’ cold-hearted work. As he stared down at his feet, a third foot took out his legs at the knees and, without the ice keeping his feet locked in place, he would have gone down. So he was still upright for the roundhouse kick that ended the non-fight. The boy looked at his rescuer. “Th-th-thanks.” He said to the man in the army outfit.
“Don’t thank me.” Fortune Hunter replied. “I only saved you for the next one.” He looked at the boy. “What’s your name?”
“T-thoma…”
“NOT your REAL name!” Hunter interjected angrily. “I don't need to know that and you should NEVER tell it to someone you just met! Your licence name!”
“M-mental Empathy.” The boy stammered.
“Right.” Hunter remarked. “By the sound of it you have healing abilities and some minor psionics?” The boy nodded. “So what the HELL convinced you to try and take out a troll attack solo?” Hunter shouted. “God! Save us from people who fight like Rowan Atkinson and think they’re Chuck Norris! You got powers – however you got them – and ‘just wanted to help?’ The boy nodded again. Hunter closed in on him as the troll boss vanished. “And you didn’t, obviously, think that your healing powers would come in useful at hospitals where you could ease the pressure on three or more doctors AT A TIME? “ The boy recoiled and thought about sending a TK bolt at his new ‘attacker’. He decided against it as Hunter turned. “You’re just lucky I saw you come in here. If you want to continue in this business, Mental Empathy, you need to remember one thing.” He paused for effect. “You WILL get your skull fractured. You WILL get your ribs broken; you WILL break bones, tear muscles and puncture organs. If you want to survive in this business, find a group. Let the tough ones take the punches with the knowledge that you’ll keep them up. And study for something beyond. When you grow up you may want to do something else.” He walked to one of the locked doors and kicked it in.
“Th-that’s breaking and entering.” The boy stammered.
“You owe me.” Hunter replied, putting a shuriken into the security camera before making his way over to the safe in the corner. He placed a small, ashtray shaped, device on the table top and it’s top half he stuck to the lock mechanism. “Latest from R&D,” he said by way of explanation as the boy heard a small fizzing noise. He looked on in surprise as a segment of lock appeared on the dish and the door swung open. “I always like to know what Crey’s up to.” Hunter explained, “It’s never good.”
“B-but…”
“Good PR, kid. Good PR.” He looked at several of the folders. “Project: - Reclaim. Why do I not like that?” He opened the folder. There was little inside it except for a few blueprints. They looked technical. “Wild better see these.” He pulled out a handheld scanner and ran it over the pages, committing them to the devices memory. He closed the file after scanning and put it back in the safe. He closed the door and smiled. “I love this bit.” He said. That fizzing sound again. The device vanished from the ashtray. Hunter pulled the other half free. The safe was in one piece again. “You clear out now,” he advised the boy, “I’ll cover you.”
“C-can you train me?” The boy asked.
Hunter paused for a few seconds, recalling his childhood. “No.” He said bitterly. “I’m no trainer. You’ll find a group. Usually around Atlas or Galaxy.” He got in his car and drove off.

Prologue ends...

Thanks Doc. Captures her thinking (that's she's more dangerous than she is!)

You can use my toon Wolf Child. I'll mail you a link to the piccies.

Epilogue
A few Days Later
Talos Island General Hospital

Tygerboy coughed and noted there was still a bit of blood in there as he lay in bed. Using a superfast attack at Superspeed was dangerous to him as his top half tended to move at ten times the speed of his lower half. At normal speed it meant that his lower half was doing 5mph and his top 50 mph. At speed, it was 50 miles an hour and 500 up top. It kind of tore him up. It was only the presence of the sorcerer and his innate healing factor that had saved his life. Now, here he lay, wondering when he was going to get out.

There was a huge bunch of flowers on the side unit, a 'gift' from his sister who'd made sure they'd all had their scents muted. A number of well-wisher cards dotted the unit along with a book on Tai-chi from Hunter and a new pair of boots from Markham. Wolf had... Just walked in, he realised as he smelt Cinnamon sticks, oil and Henna. He opened his eyes.

"Heya." He said in welcoming.
"Noon, Tyger." She replied, looking at the few, garden picked, roses she'd brought and the Bouquet. She placed them amongst the mass and took up the sole visitors chair. "Figured you'd like to hear the things going on out there?"
"Wh-what happened to the bo..." Tyger re-considered saying 'bomb' in a hospital. "Device?"
"Hunter removed the trigger. Crey are currently investigating the 'theft' of their materials used in making the device." She leaned in closer. "We expect several scientists to commit suicide in the next few days, saying they'd betrayed Countess Crey." She whispered.
"Of course." Tyger grunted. "Got a worse record than Heroing, haven't they?"

Wolf looked at the cards that had been placed from various well-wishers. One from Stateman, she noted - in a card that was a picture of himself. Several from friends and colleagues. One, she noted, bearing I-Ching's on the front. She picked it up and read that it was From Fire Striker and the writing inside wished him a speedy recovery. "The I-chings say 'Get well so we can kill you with honour'." She said in translation.
Tyger chuckled. "Those Tsoo. Such kidders." He paused, looking past her to the elevator where a large, purple, teddybear was making it's way out of the double doors. "Oh, balls. There goes my rep!"
Wolf looked around and saw the being holding the bear. Small. Young. Rat tail, Tiger striped hands, spotty face and wildcat ears in a pink trenchcoat. She recognised her. "Hey, she goes to Croatoa Uni! In the genius class."
"Yup." Tyger coughed.
"She made a miniscule nuclear reactor that powered the science lab for a week..." Wolf paused, thinking of the various gadgets Tyger had been using including the laser eyes. "And she's your sister, yeah?" She smiled.
"I am!" Said the newcomer, in a light voice. "Name's Juniper." She smiled a bright smile, placing the giant bear on Tyger's bed. He kicked it off irritably. "The press call me Wild Child." She offered a hand.

Wolf took it and stayed for a while.

((For now, anyway.))

For two days they scoured Talos and Oranbega, Wolf and Markham taking the underside city and Hunter and Tyger taking the topside. Hunter found he could use the ‘confused tourist gambit’ fairly often if approached and floor people when that failed. He stayed mainly around the warehouse districts as Tyger swept through the skies, his over-sensitive ears focussing on words spoken as he’d been trained during his enforced military service. No words he heard helped. Nothing that told him of the bomb or who they’d be fighting as he turned south and buzzed New Sparta. He’d lived here for a while, with his sister, and he still liked coming here every now and again. He enjoyed visiting the same shops where he got overcharged over half the time, the same parks where he often considered – but never got around to – feeding the ducks. The nightclubs he’d never gone into and the police station he’d visited several times, half the time to visit friends. Good memories, still pulling at his emotions. Not enough time.
<Want a hint?> Said a chirpy voice on Hunter’s commline.
Exhausted by two solid days of movement, Hunter replied. “You got a lead, Wild, then give it!”
<Don’t take it out on ME, Mr Hunter!> The voice commented petulantly. <Not MY fault they’ve got a bomb! I’m told there’s' been sounds of heavy duty machinery and hints of Nemesis soldiers in one of the buildings behind Exarch Industries. Figure you may want to check it?>
“Of course, Wild. And sorry for shouting.”
<Ok.>
“Where’d you get the information?”
<Internet talk board. People post sightings. Someone called ‘BigGangsta’ just posted it. First post too.>

An hour later, the crowds had begun to assemble less than half a kilometre from the eventual epicentre as the four fighters overlooked the building that seemed to be their target. “You realise that, if it’s buried in concrete, we ain’t gonna get to it, yeah?” Tygerboy asked. No-one answered him.
Hunter kept an eye out through binoculars. “Nemesis forces confirmed. And Malta. Warhulks and Zeus titans amongst all the others.” He lowered the binoculars and sighed. This’ll be close. And we’ve no evidence we can bring to the table to convince other groups to assist.”
“Who said we need the licensed?” Tyger asked. He nodded down and Hunter looked and understood.

The door buckled and tore from its hinges as Markham pulled it free with a roar. Guns inside opened up and she took the brunt as Tyger waited for them to reload before speeding in and taking all the weapons off the eight soldiers inside. Wolf and Fortune moved in quickly before they could recover and engaged the enemy. Wolf headed straight for the Malta contingent and the tac ops officer as he deployed his auto turret. She vaulted over the deadly drones’ line of fire and rolled until she was upright again, bringing her blades up in a quick slash from the officers’ right hip to left shoulder. She took the control device off his hands and turned the drone on the other Malta troopers before they could react. “900RPM versus slow moving slugs with body armour?” She muttered to herself. “No contest.”
Hunter was dealing with the Nemesis contingent. He could feel a blade slice through the skin of his shoulder but found that the pain helped shed the tiredness he was feeling better than the stimulant he’d taken and better than the coffee too. He punched one hard in the midriff and roundhouse kicked another in the side of the head as Markham hefted a stone and threw it with uncanny accuracy at the remaining Nemesis. He wasn’t remaining for long. The far door opened and then the wall exploded as the Zeus made an unwelcome appearance. Wolf, winged boots flapping furiously, met it head on as Markham stomped through the room after her. A second wall ruptured As the Nemesis equivalent made its appearance. The bubbling engine of steam punk hate called a Warhulk. Tygerboy stared hard at it. “I can’t take this thing alone, boss.” He warned.
“Then it pains me to say, hero, that you do not stand alone!” The voice almost surprised both of them. Hunter turned. A new force was entering the room. Their leader – or at least the one speaking – stood lithe and about five feet ten inches in height. His top half was unencumbered by clothing and covered with tattoos.
“Fire Striker!” Tyger called happily, ducking a blow from the Warhulk as he did so. “Wasn’t sure you’d show!”
“Our land is imperilled, short one. You think we would let it fall to ones like these? And we of the Tsoo do not come alone. Others wish to assist. For once.” He sent a fireball crashing into the Warhulk, obscuring its vision for vital seconds as, through his Tsoo forces, Mace Warrior Samson lead his force of Warriors into the battle. “We all shall hold these.” Striker advised. You two must move into the cellars.” He pointed at one of his troops. “Sorcerer! Go with them! Ensure their safety.” With allies like these, Hunter thought to himself. Still, they needed the help.

Hunter led the way down into the underground complex, having reminded Tyger that super speeding in caves only led to hundreds of trips and untold flattened faces. “No guards.” Tyger noted.
“Tyger.” Hunter said a little irritably, “You’ve got an Atom bomb about to go off any minute. You’re not REALLY gonna hang around to see it, are you?”
“No. Still can’t believe the mayor didn’t believe you.”
“No. But torture isn’t really a highly regarded method of getting information in western law enforcement. Can’t argue it before a judge.”
“Shoulda killed him. Though I suppose that, by taking both his trigger fingers, you sort of did.” Tyger sniffed as Hunter scanned with his radiation detector. The adult pointed left and Tyger nodded. “Four of them.” Tyger commented. “Want me to deal with them?”
“When in visual.” Hunter told him. They edged closer to the cavern. A medium sized cavern in front of them. Four Malta operatives – gunslingers all - and one bomb behind them. “My turn.” Tyger said quietly. He grimaced. “Gonna have to take them as quick as I can. Super-fast punches at super-speed. Tears me up but I can get ‘em. “Won’t be much good for anything other than breathing after. You can defuse it?”
Hunter nodded. “A year with the bomb squad in Bosnia. I can handle it. Go.” He felt the incredible suction as Tyger left and, before he felt the effect cease, all four gunmen were on the ground. As was Tyger, retching up blood and other fluid items. Hunter crossed to the device. A timer. As he’d thought. With two minutes to go. A cylindrical detonator, embedded in a metal cocoon. When it came down to zero, spikes would spring out and complete the circuit by touching the exterior wall.
Remove the detonator. Hunter told himself. One minute forty means you don’t have time to check for movement sensors, just get it moving. Steady hands to turn it, steady hands to pull it out. Boy, his shoulder was painful. Boy, that timer was ticking down slowly. Pull it; pull it, steady but fast. Fifty seconds. All the time left in the world. Tyger’s dying, Liz and Wolf are fighting for their lives, the Tsoo and Warriors are united, which may not be a good thing, the crowds are assembling above, the detonator that someone must have stolen from Crey as it had their logo on it was still counting down as Hunter pulled it ever further out. Twenty seconds left and it was so heavy. He could feel his sweat coming down as the dial crossed twenty seconds in a bad direction. How long was this thing? If it was too long then he’d never…
“It’s out, y’know?” Liz Markham asked, looking haggard and battered as she carefully grasped its underside. “Has been for ten seconds.” She relieved him of the detonator and hurled it as far away from the device as she could. “In case it goes off.” She advised.

In another part of the city, a man walked into a boardroom and turned to face the heavily built individual seated at the far end. “They got the hint?” The seated individual asked. The associate nodded. “You wonder why I sent the message to them?” He asked. The other nodded again. The seated man shrugged. “Call it a crisis of conscience in a win-win scenario.” He advised. “We hired Malta to wipe Talos from the map for a good reason. The success of that zone was threatening our finances in a way we could not tolerate. Their… intransigence and unwillingness to acquiesce to our demands had to be dealt with. But we had to cover ourselves as well. Hence we paid Malta $20 million to act as though unifying certain gangs was their idea. Then if, say, a hero group got ontta them, well… Malta, Nemesis, Trolls… All of them have gotten in our way an’ threatened our operations. Now Malta forces have been decimated an’ Nemesis has lost a good percent of his new Jaegers. Even the Dockers got damaged on the isles as Recluse got clued into their part. They ain’t gonna be bothering our Peregrine or Skyway operations again for a while AND we got their money in an account ready for us to use. Like I say. Win-Win. Just wish we’d gotten the Carnies involved. But you can’t have it all.” He leaned forward, into the light, showing his white suit and shining head. He smiled. “Like I always say, crime’s a Family business.”

End.

Sunday 2nd November
2471 Platinum Street
Founders Falls
1750hrs.

Wolf leapt backwards over the operations officers’ fire and stuck her blades into the back of a Gunslinger who’d been drawing a bead on Tygerboy as he assaulted no less than three Tactical officers at once. Markham and Hunter were on the floor above, having taken the express route to the higher floor. Wolf and Tyger were the other operatives in a pincer strike. Four nights of broken bones, repaired organs, blood and internal injuries had brought them here, to where operative Zero-Kappa-seven was hiding. He was a teleporting assassin with a record as long as Wolf’s arm and a trigger finger as short as Tyger’s temper. She recalled Tygers cape had been burnt off in the last battle and he’d taken it out on a Zeus titan, beating it until it toppled. With his fists. It had taken two hours for his hands to regrow.

Wolf turned sideways down the corridor and waited for the first thing to poke its’ nose around. It was the turret. Her enchanted blades cut it in two. Can’t harm flesh, she recalled for the fiftieth time this weeks, can cut steel like marmalade. Frikking enchantment. She took the operations officer out and turned as the Gunslinger fired a shot at her. It hit her helmet and she felt a dizzy experience as it spanged off into the wall, the tear in the plastic exposing the titanium underneath as she charged the 'slinger. She hit him hard in the stomach, winding him and making him drop his guns. She back butted him in the chin as he doubled over and ran him through with the blade, inflicting their, suddenly psionic, damage on his gut. “Done?” Tyger asked.
“Dusted.” She replied as a Hercules Titan fell past the window.

Elizabeth Markham watched it go before she turned. Hunter had his hand on a Sapper’s weapon, she noted. The rest of him was above it, putting a steel toed combat boot into the guns owners’ masked face. The eyepieces fractured as Hunter’s toes felt cheekbone and teeth give way under it as Hunter’s full weight swung itself the rest of the way over and landed on the floor to deliver and extra sweep kick and take his opponents feet out from under him. A tactical got off a shot as he jumped high in the mans’ direction, bringing his foot down square in the enemy’s forehead before somersaulting backwards. Markham watched him land before she returned her attention to her own underling and threw him through the nearest window. Malta, she noted, were NOT an Equal Opportunities Employer. Still, wouldn’t be as much fun hurting them if they were. An auto-turret opened up and Hunter found himself diving behind the wall as Markham walked slowly towards the item. Bullets flared off her, breaking skin and fabric as her strength carried her through. She reached out a hand, balled it into a fist and exploded the turret. “I’m NOT Super-woman, you know?” She called back to Hunter. “I DO bleed!”
“Not as much as me.” Hunter replied, pulling himself off the floor and helping himself to a few knives from the Malta ops belt and the sapper gun from the Sapper before he got zigged out. “I hate guns.”

Tyger and Wolf made their way up to meet their senior colleagues and found themselves near the window that the others had come into by cable from the opposite roof. The harpoon and steel cable Markham had thrown were still just visible in the wall, having penetrated the room beyond before it stopped. “She was banned from the Olympics, wasn’t she?” Tyger asked.
“Hmm.” Wolf smiled. “She impaled a judge in the Javelin. He was judging a swimming competition half a mile away.”
Well, Wolf considered, they’d been here. Move on. She followed Tyger into the corridors beyond. He’d scented Malta. They were this way. Tyger was first into them, having cheated and torpedoed them with his super speed. Wolf swung in as fast as she could but Tyger was ahead on the night’s takings by ten Malta scumbags. The thunder of cannons brightened Wolfs’ evening. A Hercules! This was worth FIVE grunts! She leapt into the fray and laughed.

Hunter roundhouse kicked his opponent and he fell. Markham punted hers and Hunter wondered if he’d come down in the next building as the man exited a window. He was sweating under the weight of the sapper gun but considered it well worthwhile. He watched Markham move and admitted to himself that he was jealous. He’d been forced to work all his life to gain the skills he had now. Markham and the others had been born with a genetic quirk – more pronounced in Tygerboys' case than the others – that meant they were either invulnerable or healed faster than normal. He was just a man. But he endured. He was skilled, smart, well off and responsible for others welfare. What more could he want? Super strength, he thought idly. This HAD to be last room. There were no more floors.

The others joined them as Hunter hid himself as best he could. “Neat decoration, Hunter.” Tyger observed as Wolf sliced through the door. She kicked the door open and took two in the chest as Zero-Kappa-Seven opened fire. She fell backwards, her mutant power working fast to repair the damage. He managed to add another before Markham charged him. He teleported – and rematerialised in front of Hunter. He hit the firing pin on the Sapper gun. He almost felt sorry for the boss as the minty blue light enveloped him, draining his power so he could hardly move. Still he managed to spin and fire, just missing Hunters head with an ice bullet. Hunter stepped closer and swung the Sapper gun into his chin. He looked down at Wolf, still fighting the bullets, and dropped the weapon before kidney punching him, Cobra striking him in the throat and Crane kicking him into the room.

When he came to, he found himself strapped into a chair with his hands trapped by manacles on the table. “Evening.” Hunter said darkly, walking around the table with a revolver in hand. “I hate guns.” He said. Tyger had the sapper gun now and bathed Seven in its light again. “But I can still use them. Y’know, Captain Markham would happily beat you with any number of Cudgels, truncheons or…” - He raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth as she stood over the now seated Wolf. “A concrete banana. But we just don’t have the time. So I’m just gonna ask it out. Where’s the Atom Bomb?”
He laughed. “Like I’d tell you?” He asked. “Go on, shoot me! Shoot me now!”
Hunter shrugged. “Ok.” He said, before placing the revolver just above the first phalange joint on the mans’ left hand third finger and fired. Bone and blood spattered the table as the bullet tore through both finger and table. Seven yelled his defiance aloud.
“Any room in Malta for a gunslinger that can’t pull a trigger?” Hunter yelled into his face.
“Screw you!” He replied.
“Wrong answer!” Hunter replied loudly, choosing another finger at random and blowing it in two. “Now, we’re hunting an Atom Bomb that’s somewhere in this city and we don’t have the time OR the inclination to play nice! I can keep doing this until you lose all twenty fingers AND toes but can you!?”

“So,” Hunter replied, throwing the gun away into the darkness. “Now we know. Talos. And we know when.”
“We do?” Markham asked confused.
“In three days time, Statesman’s opening a new, multi-million dollar medical centre for the homeless there. Big photo op. Crey putting the shine on. It’s his only public engagement on the schedules. We have three days to search a zone the size of the island of Jersey with more underground tunnels.”
“Happy day.” Said Wolf, spitting out a couple of bullets.

Monday 27th October
Thirty feet under the British Consulate
Atlas Park
0900hrs.

He was uncomfortable, sitting bare on the stone floor in the bare room. He’d lost track of time he’d been here so long. His armour had been stripped from him and his hands cuffed behind his back by several troops he’d recognised as British Royal Marines. That confused him somewhat. Teleports just plain didn’t have intercontinental range! The room they’d thrown him into was black. Just… Black

The door opened and he blinked against the pale incoming light until a shape blocked most of the light. It walked in and the door closed. A second or so and the light switched on. Tears filled his eyes but receded so he could see the woman from Saturday. About five eight in height with a ridiculous straight laced red haircut and wide brimmed glasses. She was wearing a different black suit this time. The rest of the room was just bare stone except for the hanging butcher’s hook. He wondered what that was for. “I understand you’ve not been fed since we caught you?” She asked, laying out a few items on the small table in the middle. He made no reply. “Hmm, well, it just proves that government doesn’t work weekends. Or at least the catering staff anyway. You look smaller than the last time I saw you. You wear platforms when in armour? And rolled up socks?”
“My Lord will…”
“No, he won’t. This is Britain. Attacking us means an international incident. We protest to our friends in the U.S. and pressure increases on the U.S. army to over-react and do their usual ‘wipe out’ tactic. Besides. You’re not staying. You’re just stopping long enough to tell me all you know of Nemesiss… Nemesese… the tin clad pillocks’ operational plans in Europe, his manpower here and what you were doing with that Uranium.”
“No.” He replied, spitting his defiance.
She smiled. “Defiance is not advised.” She stroked a truncheon. “But look at you! All sinewy and all. Pretty as a picture! Matter of fact…” She crossed the room behind him, even as he tried to scurry away. She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Pictures don’t move(!)” She admonished him before picking him up with no real effort. “This will hurt somewhat, I imagine.” She lifted him further up and he felt his arms being pulled upwards behind him even as the rest of his body was released. His muscles contorted and he found himself uttering a cry of pain that lasted several seconds. She walked back around to the front as he struggled against the hook on the handcuffs. He roared again. “Sometimes it’s the simple things that make life so interesting. Now. For one answer that this” – she patted a small device – “doesn’t believe, I’ll break a toe. Then I’ll move onto a knee, an arm… no, I don’t need to bother with them, do I? Or, if time’s pressing, I’ll go to a more sensitive area. Oh, and the poison tooth’s been removed by the way.” Through the pain he heard her words. He looked at her. “Oh, didn’t know about that one, eh? Naughty Nemmy. So, we begin. Where’s Nemesis got his European head of operations?”
“Screw you.” He replied.
Markham sighed. “Whilst that’s not a lie,” she said, picking up the 80’s police weapon, “it wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.” She crossed to him and hit his ribs with a powerful blow. He gasped. “A lot of people use power tools these days.” She admitted. “I prefer the hands-on approach. It’s far more… intimate and personal don’t you think?” She smiled. “Wanna try again? European base? European contacts?” She tweaked his little toe on his left foot. He squirmed.

It took several more inducements before he gave up an address in Luxembourg and an address in Cadiz. He swore that was all he knew. She wrote them on her pad, glanced at the desk and decided she believed him. “Ok.” She shrugged. “Was hoping for more than that but never mind. Guess he keeps things compartmentalised. Right. Next order of business. Where’d you get the Uranium from?” He looked scared but defiant. “Not gonna talk?” She asked politely. He shook his head.
“No. You can kill me all you want and you’ll get nothing.” He nodded to the device. “And that’s an old Game Boy with a few extra bits.
She smiled. “Wondered when you’d work that out. So, violence won’t get me anywhere?” She asked. He shook his head.
She sighed and grasped two items. “Sure?” She asked. His eyes widened as she picked up a concrete banana and a brillo pad.

Twenty minutes later she emerged from the room and spoke to the commander of the British Forces outside. “Commander Graham.” She observed.
“Captain Markham.” The other officer replied, returning the salute she’d not made.
She gripped his saluting arm, brought it down flat and slapped the notepad into his palm. “Get the information to the European Justicierie Force quickly so they can move. Tell them it came from MI6.”
“Ma’am.”
“And get him cleaned up, dressed and tp’ed to the Zig.”
“Ma’am. When can we expect the next occupant?”
She shrugged. “When we catch a Tsoo boss, I suppose. Or someone equally international.” She left the way she’d arrived.

Wythenfields Industrial Estate
Galaxy City
20 minutes later

Markham stood in front on the others, relaying what the officer had told her. “Basically they’re working together on this one.” She told them. “Nemesis, Family, Trolls, Sky Raiders, Crey and others, sending their money to that bank account in return for items that would attract too much interest if shipped together. They get what they pay for. Who pays most gets the most expensive part. Then they assemble them in a central location and things go mushroom shaped.”
Wolf looked confused. “Why buy when they could steal the items anywhere?” She asked.
Fortune, still looking like a walking bruise, educated her. “It’s not the money. It’s the working together. Someone’s promised them a piece of the pie each if they work together. Question is… Who?”
<Want an answer?> asked the prancing pony on the screen. <Someone’s just made a withdrawal on that account.>
“Who?”
<Well,> the voice admitted, <it took a lot of digging but it eventually led back to a company account in…You won’t like this.>
“Tell us.” Fortune told her.
<Valletta.>
Hunter put his head in his hands. “Malta.”

Saturday 25th October
Chesterfield Apartments
Galaxy City.
1500 hrs.

Hunter was still in bed but he was still in bed for a very good reason. He could hardly move after the early morning escapades. He wasn't likely to get up before the next morning anyway. It was, he thought, a good thing that his left arm still worked. He could reach the remote control for the television. Although it was kind of a mixed blessing as it was American Daytime television. He'd watched a DVD earlier and it had been a five minute trip to the shelf opposite his bed. A look in a mirror had shown him a bruise looking back out of the reflective surface.

Something tringed next to him. A message on his laptop. He clicked on the link.
<Still in bed?> Wild's voice said knowingly.
"How did you know?"
<I have my ways. Plus the fact you were active this morning and...>
"I'm only human?" Hunter interrupted. He figured he'd look cross if he could move his facial muscles. It was a constant annoyance to him that years and years of training only gave him similar abilities to the lowest ranking mutants. It was the same problem that had kept him out of the specialised Task Force the British Army had set up, using their mutants against the enemy to 'save' the normal troops. It had offended both sides and had been dropped after a couple of months and five operations.
<Something like that.> Wild admitted.
"Tell." Hunter coughed. "Tell me how you knew that truck would leave at 0400 after one night?"
<One night?> Wild chuckled her synthesised chuckle. <I ran the CCTV tapes for the entire week. Camera to the west saw no truck but the one further down the road always showed the same truck passing by at three minutes past Four in the morning and it's two minutes from the target address. Therefore...>
"Something left the area between at Four. Neat."
<Stupid of them. How'd you figure it to be Nemesis?>
Hunter grunted as he reached for a glass of water. "I looked in the window. Dressed as a Hellion, I took a look through their skylight. And then in the room itself."
<You spied through the keyhole?>
"No." Hunter admitted, laughing a laugh that gave him pain. "I saw them as I was going back up the rope to the skylight as fast as I could. The thing was alarmed. Anyhow... What happened in Perez?"

Three hours Earlier
Perez Park

"Gardvard SMASH heroes!" The greenskin roared, pulling a chunk of wall out and throwing it at Wolf. She dodged to the side as it impacted on the floor and chippings flew up, glancing off her helmet as they went. She sprinted inand put her blades through the Older Trolls' abdomen. The Ghost Sabre magic being what it was, this wasn't a killing stroke but it was enough to take him out of the fight.
"Talk English you &^$£ing Hulk reject!"
"You should do the same." Said a voice behind her. Tygerboy. She turned. He still had a troll ganger by the throat and on his knees.
"Hero not swear." The troll said, punch drunk.
"Will you finish that ar$ehole so we can move on or are you planning on taking him on a date?" Tyger punched him out. The two headed for the stairs. The lifts were out of order. Typical troll maintenance, Tyger thought to himself. It it ain't broke, break it. Then hurl a boulder at it to fix it. "Up or down?" he asked.
"Trolls don't fly or use helicopters." Wolf pointed out. "Down." So saying she jumped the bannister and ropeed. Tyger followed suit. He slowed to a hover and noted the wings on Wolfs' boots flapping for all they were worth.
"Still got that altitude problem?" He asked.
"Sometimes." Wolf admitted. Almost impaled a blimp once when I wasn't wearing the boots. Anyway, door."
She pointed to a door opposite on the ground floor and Tyger sighed. "My protective aura doesn't stop ALL pain, you know?" So saying he stood on the ground, focussed himself and hit the door at about fifty miles an hour. It crashed outward and Tyger spun and stumbled after it in a stunned state as the trolls behind ran in.

Wolf liked trolls. It was difficult to avoid being shot when facing a lot of the groups who relied on their firepower above all but the Trolls, with only a few exceptions, liked to prove their intense physical fitness by getting in close. This was great for Wolf and Tyger. "Trolls smash heroes!" At least two yelled.
"Trolls get new record." Wolf replied, scattering her supply of Caltrops - some bought, some taken of an unco-operative Tsoo Eagle - and watched them slow her attackers. "Trolls also get shoes." She added, boot wings keeping her off ground level as she hacked and slashed.

Tyger came around and noted the combat. He chose the ones he wanted to engage and engaged them, fists flying as he used his power over the negative to boost his attacks. One swung a blade which cracked on his armoured jacket. He grasped the arm with his left hand and brought his right down onto the exposed elbow hard enough to break it. He swept the legs out from under his opponent and palm striked him between the eyes. His hands closed into claws and he pulled several deep scars down the Trolls face before kicking him back. A second came in with a mallet strike to his chest and Tyger felt a rib go. Blood entered his mouth. That'd take a few minutes to heal. Just release enough healing power to stay up for now, he thought as he knew the malleter was coming again, a blow to the head on his doubled up form would be a bit difficult to deal with. Tyger just managed to dodge the downward blow and snapped the mallet handle with a downward kick as it landed on the stone floor. An upward punch from Tyger brought the Trolls head back up. Tyger grasped him and pulled him back down, impaling the Trolls chest on his shoulder spikes. The Troll gurgled then fell sideways as blood began to spurt. Tyger slapped a mediport Zig tag on him and watched him fade before he decided to heal himself and heard his rib snap back into place. Not a sound he liked..

Wolf kinda wished the Sabres would allow her to do things like that. She'd defeated her opponents and her own accelerated healing was dealing as best it could with her injuries. She looked around. This seemed to be the last room available to them. A small stockroom. Trolls, she reminded herself, are thick but not stupid. And they tended to 'magpie' things they liked. There were boxes here from Crey, Buchanan, Ostermann and other tech companies. She had no idea what they were... "Heheheh.... Stupid heroes." Said a voice from the floor. She turned. "It gone. Our part done."
"Part of what?" Tyger asked.

Galaxy City.
1500 hrs

"Part of what?" Hunter asked.
<Electronics he said.> Wild replied. <Which isn't good. All the payments to that account were payments FOR something. When added up, you get over ten million dollars. You found Uranium and now we have electronic parts. From the shipping list that Wolf found I'd say they were parts of a detonator and, in lieu of something else, I'd say we have to move fast.>
"Agreed." Hunter replied darkly. "Someone's building an Atom bomb."

Atlas Park
Argosy Industrial Estate
Saturday 25th October
0330hrs

Darkness reigned throughout the city, embattled only by the sea blue glow of the war walls in the hours before the sun pushed itself above the horizon. Few civilians walked the streets at this hour so few criminals ventured out to mug them and, thusly, few heroes were around to investigate and arrest them. The city was mostly quiet. Those who did venture out, to places like the all night coffee shop, tended to be on the tougher side of indomitable and generated an aura that they only used this sort of place because it was open, not because their coffee made life worth living. Mostly, truth be told, even the proprietor would acknowledge that the best his coffee could hope for was to be hot and knock the edge of the impulse to commit suicide. The black suited woman he’d not seen before paid for the two coffees – both for her, she’d said – and left his establishment and made her way to the 4x4 opposite.

“Coffee ok?” She asked, handing Fortune his coffee. He was wearing an army camouflage jacket and a similarly coloured cape with a half mask covering his eyes and an army Beret covering his hair. Light, camouflaged, gloves protected his hands with Steel tipped combat boots and camouflage trousers completing the look.
“Better than their tea, I suppose.” He admitted grudgingly. He tasted it. “But not much. You put sugar in this?”
“Nope.” She slugged back her own coffee and gasped. “Hit the spot.” She remarked, looking at his boots. “Beats me how you do your karate [censored] in those.”
“Practice.” He admitted, ripping open a sachet of sugar from a pouch on his belt and adding it to the coffee before stirring it with a spare spoon.”. “LOTS of practice and a few adjustments to the boot. “He put the spoon back in the glove compartment and took a drink. “Bearable now.” He admitted.
“So,” Markham asked, changing the subject, “Nemesis, eh?”
“Yup.”
“Kids here?”
“Nope. Tyger’s on a night off. Wolf’s in school.”
Markham looked at him like he was crazy. Which, considering his outfit, he couldn’t take as totally untrue. “School? At 0345 in the morning?”
“Croatoa night school. 2300-0600.” He shrugged. “Crazy but it’s Croatoa. And I don’t want her here anyway.”
“Why?”
“That old master she trained under? The one I trained with? He was killed by Nemesis. She’s kinda sworn a blood oath against him. And I’d rather take the base leader alive if possible.”
“Right.” She paused. The pause yawned into a gap. One minute. Two. “Nice 4x4.” Markham commented, desperate for conversation to break the silence since she’d taken offence to the night time DJ and ripped the stereo out.
“Yup.” Hunter drank the rest of his coffee and dropped the cardboard cup into the back of the vehicle. “You REALLY didn’t notice that each of our teleport points is a secure place with a garage?”
“Can’t say I bother looking. I just head wherever I’m needed.”
Four AM struck and, like normal, one of the doors began to open.

“Shall we knock?” Hunter asked rhetorically.
“I never do.” Markham replied.
“I’ve noticed that,” Hunter sniped, turning the key, and flooring the accelerator. “It would be nice if you could knock on the bathroom every now and again.”
“Four O’clock truck, right on schedule!” Markham replied as a small lorry began to become visible in the white light under the door. The 4x4 hit the stop strip before they had lowered to let the truck out. All the tyres blew. Then repaired themselves. “Nanotyre technology!” Hunter shouted. “God, I love being a multi-millionaire!” He laughed as the troops began moving behind the truck. The door began lowering. His face became serious. “It means I can afford armoured trucks.” He muttered.

The impact threw the stationery truck back several feet as the metal door fought with the roof of the vehicle, the doors buckled but the armoured glass held in the windshield. The front was crumpled beyond repair and the struck truck was spilling fuel. Bullets began stitching the air. Markham ripped her door off and exited the vehicle fast, stomping towards the stairs beyond and drawing fire as Hunter followed her, his own door too mangled to open normally. She’d made the stairs. He followed, keeping opponents heads down with shurikens. Normal for the troops. Explosive for the Jaegers. Markham reached the nearest soldier and he tried to stab her with his bayonet. It cut along her suit, drawing blood as she shifted to avoid it. She brought her arm down, through the gun, breaking it in two before hitting him with a backhand that took him off his feet, over the banister and out of the fight. Possibly permanently. “Take the door at the top.” Hunter ordered. He showed her an explosive shuriken? She looked at him, puzzled but decided to follow him idea as bullets continued to pinprick her. These guys were annoying, she decided. She made her way through the door. Hunter launched himself through. “Close the door!” He yelled, rolling under a desk and pulling it over. She did so as an almighty explosion rocked the base, followed by a string of gunshots that never seemed to stop and shattered the door around her and impacted on everything, including the desk. The Shuriken. She smiled a grim smile as she guessed what he’d done. He’d ignited the gas and thus the truck carrying the newly made Jaegers. And their ammunition.
“You killed them?” She asked.
“Technically they killed themselves.” Hunter remarked, getting off the floor and dusting himself down. “I just supplied the means. Besides, some may well have survived.”

They moved on, down a corridor that led to a cave. “How many of these warehouse doors lead to caves?” Markham wondered aloud.
“Welcome to Paragon City.” Hunter replied.
“Shh.” Markham cautioned. She could hear something. Whirring, clicking. A new voice.
“What’s going on above?” A voice asked, demanding acquiescence by its very tone.
“Unknown, sire.” Another voice replied.
“Then lead your men and locate answers, commander! You run the risk of displeasing me and that is not a good choice for a long career!”
“At once, sire!”
“And start with those two in the next room.”
“Oh, [censored].” Markham said before Hunter ran past her into the next chamber. She recognised the move immediately. He was almost impossible to hit. But only almost. And there were eight of them. She followed him in to a cavern that she saw was the automated assembly line for the Jaegers. Not that it was totally unmanned.

Six of them were wearing the standard grunt outfit. Stupidly tall hats, red jackets, trousers and long weaponry. Another wore the markings of a leader. The final one. Well… He was kind of the ******* son of the Hulk and a steam train. About nine feet tall, with only his head sticking out of a mass of steam powered cybernetics. Pistons hissed and whined as he turned to face the incomers. “Kill them.” He ordered.
“I’ll take them,” Hunter declared, jumping into the air and kicking the first of his opponent’s clear in the face. “You take HIM!”
“Well, DUH!” Markham remarked, charging the Nemesis.

Sweep, duck, roll, punch. So the dance went, with new manoeuvres taking over from old at an instant’s notice as Hunter kept the attention of the grunts. It wasn’t easy. Blades had slashed his arms and chest and it was only the fact that no-one was stupid enough to fire into the melee that had saved him from far worse. He fired off his Cobra strike into an abdomen – he didn’t know who’s – and straight punched another.

“Better than you have fallen at my feet and begged for clemency!” The Nemesis bellowed as it threw Markham’s bear hug off and threw a fist into her cheek. Her vision swam for a second. She tasted blood. Her glasses survived. They always did. “You shall be denied victory by my power!”
“Will you… Shut up?!?” Markham roared, grabbing the hydraulic arm and twisting it. Metal screamed as she twisted it out of its’ normal way.
“You think you can break MY shell?” He laughed.
“No.” Markham said through gritted teeth. She put her hand into the elbow joint. “But I bet I can screw with your hydraulics!” She gripped several pipes and pulled. The metal warped and buckled, cutting into her fingers as they broke and she relented. “One arm down.” She gasped. “One to go.” He threw another punch that launched her across the cavern into the Jaegers on the manufacturing line.

Grunts down, Hunter thought as he tried to stay upright. Only their officer to go. Well, and the big guy. But he was out of Hunter’s abilities. Best leave him to the Captain. One to go. Where was he? The pull on the cape told it’s story as the officer attempted to assault from behind, his rifle lost somewhere in the fracas. Hunter touched his collar and the cape disengaged, sending the officer stumbling backwards. He’s an idiot, Hunter thought, all these weapons lying around and he tries to strangle me? Even with me seeing double, I can take this guy. He fired off a kick straight into the officers’ privates with most of the fighting strength he had left and powered his elbows down between the man’s shoulder blades as he doubled over. Then he handcuffed the mans’ hands and feet and placed a special tag on him. He looked over at Markham. “Want a hand?” He offered through the blossoming bruises.

“Do I LOOK like I need a ^&$%ing hand, Hunter?!?” Markham yelled as she put a deactivated Jaeger between herself and the descending blades of Nemesis’ good arm. The Jaeger impaled and Nemesis looked at it comically for a second. Markham took the opportunity and gripped the Nemesis at both ends of its chassis. Roaring her rage as her muscles strained to their endurance, she lifted the behemoth over her head and threw it twenty feet down onto the line. The line shattered, Jaegers sent flying into the air as Markham strode over and stood atop the Nemesis. “Gotta be a fake.” She said breathlessly. “No WAY Nem goes that easy.” She turned him so he was face upright. Then, before he could swing his arm, she fired off a punch that broke thirteen teeth and his jaw. The arm fell back. She looked up. Hunter wasn’t looking at her. He turned around. An empty box. With a radioactive warning on it. “Oh, [censored].” She mouthed. Hunter moved over with some effort and pulled something else out of his belt. “There anything you DON’T have in that belt?” She asked, recognising a radiation detector.
“Teabags.” Hunter replied. “Radiation’s background only now but still above normal. Analyser shows it as… Uranium.”
“Time to leave.” Markham decided, tagging the fake.
“Yeah.” Hunter agreed. The two left the cavern, Markham helping Hunter. “I’m gonna feel this in the morning.”
“It is morning.”
“I meant tomorrow morning. When you're interrogating that commander at the Consulate.”
“What you get for the lifestyle. You don’t heal any faster than normal people.” She paused. “And where the hell did you get a pocket radiation analyser from anyway?” Markham asked before the pair teleported out. In the rooms above them the police arrived, alerted by a large explosion some ten minutes before.

((This uses several of my toons that I've used over the years, including an NHU'er.))

Thursday 23st October
Swanson shopping centre
Seafront
Talos Island.

Four thirty in the afternoon in the island in the city. Children had left their schools an hour ago and were thronging the shops, some waiting for their parents, some having fun with their friends and some watching the mall cops and attempting to make sure they weren’t being watched by the officers in turn. They were hanging around the fast food outlets, the sports outlets and the comic shop, where one in particular was keeping an eye on her sports bag as she argued with a ginger haired teenager in a damaged leather jacket. “How the hell,” the cinnamon coloured girl asked her associate, “can you say that he’d beat him in a fight!?” She pointed to two characters on the comic book page as the proprietor of the store kept a close eye on them. “One punch and he’d kill him!”
“Ah, yes.” The boy responded, “But HE – points at the smaller of the two – knows the other would never do that. Plus, whereas he’s got the strength and the endurance, HE’S got the tactics and the skills. They match each other but you can bet he’s planned ahead and has some sort of trick whereas the tank relies on his ‘invulnerability’
“Yes, but…” The shopkeeper wondered if they were ever going to buy the magazine. Or realise that someone with a power ring could wipe the floor with both of the people they were talking about.

Adults were there too, of course, thronging the clothes stores and the hardware outlets, arguing over the prices of clothing and comestibles as much as the kids. One woman was examining a suit and wondering exactly how much of her weekly budget she could use to supplement her clothing budget and afford this. It seemed to be tailored. Not to her normal standard, of course, but she was wanting to look normal here. She was about five seven in height with red hair and spectacles. The attendant didn’t think the suit would work for this woman at all but, as usual, lied. She turned as she heard a noise outside. An old woman being helped off the floor.

Three more kids, rollerblading past the comic store with someone else’s bag. Confident, free, unencumbered by morals or the chasing mall cops. A small flash of silver lodged itself into the wheels of the left foot shoe of the boy holding the bag. He sprawled across the floor, loosing the bag from his grip and his ‘friends’ skated off and left him to the compassion of the locals in blue.

They paid no attention to the man in the coffee shop across the way, sipping one of the strange concoctions the Rhode Islanders called coffee. He ran an import/export business here amongst his other , less well known, escapades and he had been thinking over income and possible sales deals whilst he’d been sitting here but, now, he was mostly wondering how he was going to dig through this armoured foam without the spoon he’d brought. He’d been here for fifteen minutes now and he’d still not touched his Danish. Here he could see the entrance from the street as well as most of the shop fronts. Now he was looking at a new face entering the mall. About five feet and ten inches tall with black hair and a blue guards outfit. Well, it was close enough to a guard’s uniform. Close enough to make sure that no questions were asked but not enough to attract the attention of the guards themselves. He pulled his lapel slightly closer to his mouth. “Fox in the chicken coop. Do not respond.” He continued to drink his drink as he kept an eye on the man. “Now passing Miss Paragon.” He added in a low voice. The red haired woman moved out of the shop as the man passed by and waited a few seconds before she began walking in the same direction he was. The two teenagers were outside the comic shop now, examining cards as the target passed by, walking to the security door next to the shop. He tapped in a security code and entered the door, closing it behind him. “21479” the boy said aloud. “And now I need the toilet.” He added. “Same.” Said the girl, before the two moved off and the tall man from the coffee shop joined the red haired woman.

“Captain,” he said quietly, “If you please?” She nodded and tapped in the code she’d been given. The door swung open and the two slipped through into a lengthy bare corridor that sloped downwards.
“So, ‘fortune hunter’…” the woman replied before he interrupted.
“Can’t teleport them in here.” He told her. “It’s too narrow.” He smiled. “And, if you’re INSISTANT on code names, please say mine like it’s got capital letters, eh, Captain Markham? You’re not my ranking officer anymore.”
“And yet you still call me Captain.” She led the way down to the far doorway. They could hear machinery beyond. “I’d rather we could have avoided using teenagers.” She told him. “One seems to have been trained in military tactics, the other studied under a master I trained with. Neither is afraid of killing but understand we only go there when there’s no other way. That makes them good to have. Plus they know these streets better than we do.” He held a hand for silence and listened at the door. He could just hear talking. Voices talking of their next shipment to Europe. “Seems we were right about this place.” He said. “It’s an ocean front property, linking directly to the sea. Hidden harbour. Good place for the family to shift their goods. Safer than the rogues and quieter than their usual operations.” He stood back and observed the armoured door. “Elizabeth, the ‘keys’ please? He stood back as she balled a fist and crashed it into the door.

The door broke and fell off its hinges and the pair looked out onto a submarine dock. “Explains it.” Captain Markham grunted, picking up the door and using it to shield the two from the flying bullets. “Get the others in.” Her compatriot hit the recall button on the tech he was holding and the two teenagers arrived on the scene, neither looking much like they had a few minutes before. The boy had turned furry with golden yellow fur over his face and hands. His hair had turned more into a Lion’s mane. He was wearing red battle armour with light blue tribal markings and a similarly coloured cape. His shoulder pieces both had three nasty looking spikes coming through the pads. Tygerboy. The girl was wearing black and Purple with armoured pads underneath an open military vest and a swallow type cape. Her helmet looked plastic but Fortune Hunter knew it hid its strength well as did the twin blades she sported. The rapiers that were, paradoxically, called the Ghost Sabre blades. Wolf Blade. “Tygerboy takes the left, Wolf the right.” Fortune Hunter declared, readying a salvo of beeping shurikens. “Liz, clear us a path through the centre. Keep your wits, people. “Tyger almost didn’t see him move as Fortune’s free hand swept down into his other pocket, retrieved a normal throwing star and threw it into the arm of a Family hood to the left. A second to the upper chest. “Liz! He yelled, running into the fallen goon’s group mates. “Clear a path and sink that sub.” He dove full length as bullets stitched the air above him, rolled swiftly, rose to a crouching position and swept the legs out from two of his opponents. Long range fire scattered and stopped as an armoured door arced its way towards them through the air at speed and landed with an almighty crash amongst them.

Wolf Blade launched herself into the group ahead and to the left, slicing her way through her opponents, Chi strikes adding to her strengths as she tried to hit every non fatal weak point she could think of. Tyger, she noted almost enviously, had no such qualms. His style of fighting wasn’t so much Ballet as back street junkyard. No élan, no, class, just flying fists wrapped in that darkness stuff she’d heard about. No attempt to evade the blows of the others either, she thought as she parried a blow and rode another before sweeping low and cutting the tendons of an opponent at the knees. Captain Markham dove into the central group before they could reassemble themselves from the thrown door and commenced thumping as a white suited man with a distinct lack of hat or hair climbed walked from the office at the back. “This won’t do.” He said aloud as the last of his people fell. He closed his eyes and Wolf felt herself rise into the air. She looked around. Markham and Tyger were captured in the same trap. Where was Fortune... “You really thought I’d be caught this easily? He sneered. “You really thought that just four heroes could take ME down?”
“Could happen.” Said a voice from the submarine. Fortune Hunter pulled himself over the parapet and jumped down to the deck. He seemed to be glowing, Wolf noted as the constriction began to threaten her sight and Fortune moved off the sub altogether, jumping to the jetty. “I mean,” He added, “you thought we were after you, didn’t you?” Behind him the submarine broke in half as several well placed explosive devices detonated inside it. The underboss screamed his annoyance as he tried to trap Hunter. “Why can’t I hit you?” He asked as Fortune swiftly made his way up to the room.
“Because I’m more focussed.” The lanky hero commented dryly before Crane Kicking him ten feet to the left and fifteen feet down. He landed hard on the floor. “Sounds like a broken shoulder.” Fortune jumped down. “There will always be people like you.” He added. “Trying to fund terrorism via crime and extortion. Thus there will always be people like us. Hunting you. Hunting the money. Trying to stop the terrorism before the bomb, so to speak. Now, before you go to the Zig, I want you to remember that message. And send another too.” He walked away, up to the office as his three freed compatriots commenced delivering the message. The safe was easy enough to break. The funds would be easy enough for Tygers' sister to track. And, from there, she could backtrack. Locating more of these cells for them to hit. A good day’s work.


--------------------

Friday 24th October
Wythenshaw Industrial Estate
Galaxy City
The three Hellions had heard of this place. Supposed to be a lot on money moving in and out of here, a lot of goods in the warehouse. Good stuff from Europe and good stuff for Europe which they intended to make into good stuff for themselves and their pockets. The lock was a toughie and they’d spent a good ten minutes picking it before it relented and they entered the darker interior. Their escape driver backed his open trailer truck to the door, ready for the booty. The three inside started talking about the items they were going to take. DVD’s foodstuffs from the continent, German and Dutch electronics, Wines from the old countries for their girlfriends and so on. They paused as someone walked around the corner. “Ah.” The man said, standing about six five or six with a thin frame and light brown hair. He looked worried, they thought. Well, who wouldn’t be? They were rough and tumble gangers. They advanced. He backed off slightly. This, they thought as he fell over a box of Ginger nuts, would be fun. They started the beating.

A fist to the cheek. A kick to the stomach. A knee to the groin, it was mostly a blur of fists and feet as they assaulted the man on the floor, thoughts of profit lost in their desire for bloodletting. His lip split, bloodying the boot of the ganger who’d kicked him there. A knife drawn. A strike prepared.

A hand gripping the arm. “You guys wanna make much more of a noise breaking in?” Tygerboy asked. “Even without super hearing, I could’ve heard you next door.” He launched a punch so hard that the ganger’s feet left the floor as it struck his stomach. He collapsed to the floor, the knife skittering. “Next?” Tygerboy asked. The other two ran. Tyger looked towards one. Twin green beams left his eyes and drilled holes through the lower back of a fleeing ganger. “New trick.” He explained as the ganger dropped screaming. “Micro-filaments linked to Contact lenses.”
“Sis-sister’s idea?” Fortune Hunter coughed as he forced himself up as Tyger tagged the two fallen.
“Yup.” Tyger replied, not offering a hand. “How long were you gonna let them beat on you for?”
“About half a second more.” The older hero replied, limping slightly as they walked further into the warehouse. “Couldn’t exactly wipe the floor with them without blowing the secret about this place, could I? Office manager who happens to be a 10th Dan? Like THAT wouldn’t be suspicious?”
“Whereas cit gets saved by hero happens every soddin’ minute in this city.”
“Absolutely.” Hunter walked up to a wall and pressed on it. The wall swung in as it recognised his palm print and the two walked into a room unlike the rest of the warehouse. A teleport pad with four destinations, interchangeable as needed. Talos, Brickstown, Atlas and Kings Row. A computer with a fifty inch screen, a number of chairs and a medical station over in the corner with cupboards. A three seater settee on the back row already had Captain Markham sitting on it. “What’s the next target?” Tygerboy asked. “Hellions?” He added.
“No.” Hunter replied. “And don’t worry; I’ll get the medical kit.” He walked over to the cupboards, which were within Markham’s reach, and pulled out a small green box. He applied one of the gels to his still bleeding lip. He examined his face in the small kits’ mirror. “Great.” He said as he noted the black eye. “That’ll look good out tonight.”
“I’ll apply the make-up later. AGAIN.” Markham commented. “Now, what’s the next plan?”
“Let’s find out. “ Hunter moved across to the computer as Wolf Blade teleported in.
“Your escapees met with ‘accidents’ and had to go to the hospital.” She commented. “What’s next?”
Hunter looked around, exasperated. “Will everyone stop asking me that?” He said, spreading his arms. “I’m about to find out what we learnt from yesterday!”
“Sorry I spoke.” Wolf muttered, crossing her arms.
“Wild. You on?” Hunter spoke into the computers microphone.
<Of course>, said the animated horse Wild had chosen as an Avatar. <We got a fair bit from Ol’ Tony’s financial records. Several payments to accounts operated by ‘dubious’ organisations. Arachnos, PLO, Kosovo Liberation Army, Shining path… No Al Queida links though.>
“Least we have that.” Hunter mentioned sarcastically. “All we have to deal with are European assassins, a semi-legit terrorist organisation that needs funds and one of the deadliest militant groups in South America!”
<And Arachnos>
“Yes, and them. You tracked the funds back?”
The voice sounded offended. <Of course! Once I had a back door key, it would be rude not to use it, wouldn’t it? I have several locations for you, tracking back to operations based in Steel, Croatoa, Atlas, Mercy Island, Perez and Founders. Oh, also to a Crey lab in Skyway.>
Hunter thought, putting his feet up on the console. “Tyger, observe the location in Croatoa. You live there so you’ll be something they’re used to. Anonymity can help you be invisible. Liz, take Steel, you’re a shop-a-holic and they have the best shops.”
“I don’t know if you’re trying to insult me but…” A platinum card landed on her lap. “But I’m grateful you’ve got a lot of cash I can spend.”
“Wolf takes Perez.”
“Joy.” She muttered. “Vahz slashing.”
“I’ll take Atlas. Wild, see if you can observe the Mercy ones through the security cameras. Release the location to Longbow and, if it’s not one of his, to Arachnos. He may not appreciate them doing this under his nose. Skyway… I’m not ready to take Crey on yet as they seem to straddle a line, half on our side, half on the other side. Send them the details. Let them clear it if they’re legit. Send details to the Skyway Post and the Paragon Lancet so Creys' hand is forced. Let them know you’re sending the others the details.”
<Ok.> The horse whinnied. <I’ll send from the Icelandic server again. Then I’ll switch to…>
“Don’t need to tell me, Wild.” He wouldn’t understand it anyway, Wolf thought.
“Move out, people. Recon only.” Hunter commented before looking around. Tyger and the Captain were already gone. Wolf headed after them. Hunter flipped his mobile phone – he refused to call it a cell phone – and delayed his date with Candice for a night as he’d been assaulted and rescued by a hero. Then he too left the room, closing it behind him.

Jess looked at her opponent with respect masked by contempt. She was a warrior and facing her was a tall, thin, person in white. She knew it was dangerous, suicidal even, to underestimate an opponent such as this one. And it'd be good practise. She wanted to know how her focus would go against the holds. She'd fight to win but... This would be interesting.

She could see him running towards her as she crouched on the top of the crates and she waited until he was close to her before pouncing like the Ceta warrior she was. She landed behind him and spun around to knock him off his feet. Her foot went through his legs! Swearing, she recalled he was one of those who could summon spectrals to fight for him. And, she thought as he froze her in place, his holds were good too. She'd have to train on that. She focussed and broke the hold, turning and sprinting towards to opponent now she could smell him. He'd feel this! He summoned more of his creatures to defend himself but Jess still launched her crane kick and looked happier as he flew tn feet backwards under HER volition this time - and crashed to the floor. She felt the impact of the spectrals blasts of the phantasm army and tried to steel herself against his stun hold... Perhaps if she broke his jaw? No, this was a friendly, not a hunt. Lethal force was not available to her. But still.. Even though she knew she could no longer win without killing, she fought, knocking a few of the spooks over and winding Glare with a kidney punch (Which she ground in and twisted) before the slaves forced her to her knees and the fight finished.

Sam Looked down on his latest target and tried not to think about the last few months.

His mate had given birth to a lovely little fox/feline cross called Vixtina. In a sewer. She'd given birth in a sewer. Fortunately there had been a hero midwife on scene. Two weeks later, Artemis, Goddess of the moon and the hunt and granny, had come visiting and aged Vixtina to fighting age over her parents objections. Then they'd both gone missing and returned, joined with things called Peacebringers or something. Then they went away again. Fox had gone hunting and now knew that Ireland was at least 10,000 superjumps away and, next time, he was catching a boat there.

He'd met a Druid there who'd used his better magic than the idiot summoner to enable Fox to speak perfect English simply because he couldn't understand a word Sam was saying.

Sam considered the irony that now he was using broken English because that's what people here were used to and he didn't want people thinking he was some sort of shape shifting alien in Foxs' form. Still the animal languages were there and he used them to tell a cat singing "Moonlight serenade" off-key to get lost. The Carnival were down there and fox was waiting for the illusionist to solidify... They'd stolen several potent magic books from the Knives and Fox was looking to take possession. He just needed... Ah!

As the woman solidified, Fox whacked her with an arrow he'd got from a comic book speciality shop. He didn't know why it was there but a boxing glove arrow was more effective than a normal stun arrow. If floored her and he swung the bow upright to unleash one of his magical rains on the three below. The third arrow was his usual back up to the rain, an explosive arrow. No-one was around so Fox felt free to notch two of the stunblast variety. The fencer fell. The strongman looked irked. The illusionist looked up and got Sam's boot in her face as he jumped down. He ducked as the strongmanpulled a chunk of building out and threw it at him. Sam could see a lady in the bath now. He shook his head and thrust a punch into the gut of the strongman. And grimaced. NEVER hit a man in the stomach when he's wearing armour, Fox belatedly reminded himself as he felt the strongman pick him up and hold him above his head.

The strongman flipped him over and Sam punched his fist hard into the top of the helmet, dazing the man inside and breaking three fingers. The blinded strongman pulled his helmet free so he could see again. And saw Fox coming. And the truck he'd just borrowed before it hit him head on. The truck wasn't going to kill him as he had time to brace. But it did have the power to stop him as it smashed him against a lamp-post.

Sam hopped out and looked again at the lady in the bathroom. "Um," he said, taking no account of her nakedness, "You bill M.A.G.I. for repair, yes?" He asked, tossing one of the agengy cards through the hole.

He turned back to the books the Carnies had stolen. Xyistal would want to see these. A book on newt cooking, an introduction to Sanskrit, The red book of Necromancy, Hex weaving for idiots and... The Bunty annual 1973? Fox looked at it for a moment. "Huh." He said. "Always knew there was something odd about the Four Marys." He said before powering up the transporter to base and vanishing off the street.

Well, DC currently have two Supermen flying around (The one from Kingdom Come has somehow crossed into the mainstream DC universe) so aren't they admitting there can be more than one?

Kidding....

I recently had a case with a friend of mine. My character, Wolf blade, uses dual blades and, some time back, I decided they should be the blades of a fallen hero called Ghost Sabre so I call them the 'Ghost Sabre Blades'. I have no dominion over the name but, recently, a global friend asked if it was OK if he called his new toon Ghost Sabre. It was fine. Also nice to be asked.

<<Wolf>> HAL remarked as I passed by the computer room. I stopped and considered. HAL was greeting me? That was unusual.
"Hi, HAL, what's up?"
<<I have the information you were looking for on the Ghost Sabre Blades. Would you like me to read it to you?>> I shrugged. "Better than printin' it out." I remarked.
<<Very well.>> the AI remarked calmly. <<The Ghost Sabre blades were manufactured by an unknown mage in Japan somewhere around the tenth century..>
"So they're..?"
<<About a thousand years old.> HAL commented, interrupting my interruption. <<May I continue?>>
"Yep."
<<Thank you. The blades are capable of determining guilt and will harm people to the extent of their crimes. Killing is possible but, under the rules of the New Heroes Union, ill advised. The blades are passed from master - or mistress - to student through the ages. The last wielder of the blades, Hirshima Ngaya, vanished after he was dishonoured by a Tsoo boss in the 1960's. He was defeated in battle and the underworld boss let him and his family live in exchange for a service that resulted in the theft of billions of yen. After this, he vanished although..>> I could swear HAL was smiling. That was impossible, wasn't it? <<Although there have been unconfirmed sightings of him around the world travelling with a small girl. Report ends.>>
I thought it over. "Thanks HAL."

((After that, it drifts into a different plot that I'm not running!))

Thanks. Commentry is much appreciated. Critisism less so but I prefer it to no comment at all. So long as it's real.(!)

((This is one that was written on the New Heroes Union boards. Most of it's my own work but Cpt All your base and Fire Singer also contributed.))
((Wolf Blade is a 14 year old girl and has been enrolled by Fire in Croatoa uni's night-time academy. 11pm to 5AM Sunday to Thursday nights.))


Night school is just like school, only at night. Here in Paragon, that's from about 11 at night to 5 in the morning and it blows. Especially the uniform., I decided.

I picked at the red skirt I was wearing and cursed as the mark stubbornly refused to move. A lady looked at me in shock. Oh, like she hasn't heard a teenager use that word at that volume before? If it were up to me I wouldn't even be wearing this <edited for decency.>, loatheome, <edited again> piece of <ed... you get it, yeah?> skirt. My legs were bloody freezing! This thing get's caught in an updraft and it's hello, France for twenty paces! It's also impractical for sowrds as you can't do a decent sweep uppercut with your own fabric getting in the way! Who the <ed> designed these things and what were they on?

The school's in Croatoa and is attached to the uni so you see all sort of wierdies around, like the feline kid who insists on using two computers at once ((Wild Child goes to uni here)) or the guy in the joker mask with the crown on ((not one of mine!)) who insists on hanging around the campus. If he's a perv I'll do something to him that'll turn him from Joker to Harley Quinn, I promise you.

I also hate the rigmarole when I enter the school room. They take my blades off me! Then they put them behind the teachers desk and give me a pat down. So I'd brought an extra few blades the first night. Who wouldn't? My class consists of ingrates, inbreds, unluckys like me and... oh, at least one ghost. Forever there, in the back corner near the wall. Never does any homework but seems harmless. Unlike the guy next to me. Late teens, lank, floppy hair, pale eyes and pallid skin. First night we met he said he was gonna grow up to be an Arachnos goon. My reply of if that was the case I was gonna grow up to chop his head off and play with it like a soccerball until I punted it into the sea shut him up and he's not spoken to me since.

There are other classes overnight and we occasionally meet up with them in the break time. One kid's about my age and going to the acting classes. Dunno why he's not in the day group but, hey. Met him the one night when he was being bullied for lunch money - corny but true and who the <edit> carries lunch money when there's nowhere open here at night? - by a git in his mid twenties. I'll call it self defence. How was I to know he'd attack me if I said his mother must be delighted to have a eunuch in the family? The boy introduced himself at Jason Grant. Not bad.

The train pulled in at Croatoa and I got off for the short walk to school through Salamanca. Dodged a few pumpkins, made soup of a few others and approached school. There were shrines there to missing children. Those who'd chosen to leave and those who'd had the decision taken for them. Old places kept by those who refused to believe their lost ones weren't coming back. Hoping for a miracle. I spared a second to wonder if there was someone thought that about me but let it drop. Not their kid anymore, whoever they are. There seemed to be a new one. A new picture attached to the pole of mourning. I clocked it. Didn't know him. I entered the campus and made it to the allocated room as rollcall was being taken. Wolf Singer? The teacher asked.
I opened the door. "Here!"



Fire Singer

“You know its quite unusual for one of are students of that age to bring quite so many weapons into the class room” The tutor looked at Fire over her glasses and gave her a look that spoke volumes of what she thought of Fires’ Parenting. Though parenting was the wrong word as Fire was not actually Wolfs’ parent but kind of her adopted guardian. By kind of she meant that Wolf had actually adopted her and Fire was just happy to have some company on her jobs.
“Well she is a registered hero…its sort of her job to carry them” Fire was not entirely sure how to respond to this civilian, as she did not seem to grasp the basic belief that some heroes carry sharp implements…just Wolf more then some.
“Well it’s not acceptable and she is often late, setting a bad example for the rest of the class” Fire lent back in her chair at this, she was still in her armour and it was covered in bullet marks and blood splatters.
“So anything positive to say about her” Fire managed to have the tone in her voice that spoke of a threat but still managed to sound like an innocent question. The teacher pushed her glasses further up her nose and looked straight at Fire.
“She’s a fast learner and gets one well with one of the students. The others seem… scared of her.” She picked up her cup of coffee and sat back before taking a long sip.
“You’re not her mother, are you?” Fire looked at her for a moment, then nodded slowly to this.
“Legal guardian?” Fire continued to look at her, then shook her head.
“I see…” The tutor leant forwards and put her coffee down.
“I am not going to argue over the legality of all this then. You did the right thing bringing her to this school. She gain an education and maybe a proper job.” She smiled to Fire
“No offence meant, its just this city has enough Heroes and it will give her a proper choice for the rest of her life… more doors open to her you could say.” Fire nodded very slowly to this. She wanted the best for Wolf and a life of fighting crime was not the safest of jobs.
“Look all I am saying is that maybe she needs a prod in the right direction…from her guardian”

The meeting went on for several minutes more and at the end Fire stood up and held out a hand.
“I can’t make Wolf change her mind. If I can get her to think about other careers then I will…you just make sure she’s equipped encase she does, ok?” The tutor nodded to this and shook Fires hand and lead Fire out of the class room.


Wolf Blade

Not a school night so what am I doing back up in the frozen north at half an hour to midnight? Truth be told, I was kinda having a look around. It's queer to say it, given that there's ghosts, goblins, witches, [censored] and other <edited> wierd things around here, but I had the feeling that something was still missing. Hiding almost. It was buggin' me.

The lecture after parents' night had been kind of how I'd expected it. Stop scaring the potential psychpaths, stop taking so many weapons into the classroom and here's a knife you can hide in your shoe. I knew my teach wanted me out of the hero biz and I couldn't really blame her for that. But I also knew that, whatever dream jobs she'd wanted during her life, she'd ended up as a teacher because she was good at it and because life had funnelled her that way. Same with me. Maybe it'd lead elsewhere later but, for now, it had led here. To the north side of Salamanca and halfway along. a lengthy wall around a green field between two buildings.

It wouldn't have taken my notice except I noted people walking along that side and... kinda 'bending out' towards the middle of the road before returning to the pavement next to the opposite house. I'd crossed to it and could feel the fear factor building. The area itself was repelling people. They may not even know it. But my life has been about fighting fear. Swallowing it down and <edited> it out to clear it. It only had pull if you let it and I wasn't one to do that.

I put my hand on the wall and moved along it, fighting the fear that was growing. Following it along to get to the heart of it. There was magic here. I could feel it. I knew from my travels that long lasting/permanent magic needed something to perpetuate it. An Icon or an I-Ching to focus and that was almost always close to the centre. Heartbeat getting faster. Closer to the centre of fear. My hand felt nothing under it. I could see, but not feel, the wall now. A perception filter? I drew one of my swords, stepped a few feet back the way I'd come, and ran the blade along the wall. I think I got lucky. I felt the fear drop away. I must have cut it. It was still there but lesser. And the scratch mark wasn't showing. Perception filter. Something big was hiding here. I prepared to strike again.

And that was when I heard a voice from the other side of the road calling me. "Wolf?" Jason asked, "Whatcha doing?"
I looked over at him and felt the fear lessen further. "Oh, I replied, putting the sword away, "just sharpening my blade!" I looked at him. Co-incidence he showed up now or..? "What you doing up so late?"
He looked back at me. "Solar Urticaria" He replied. Sounded alien to me. Or Italian. "Can't go out in the day. Fortunately Croatoa lives at night. Want a coffee or summat?"

I'm ashamed to say I went with him.

((Solar Urticaria exists. http://allergies.about.com/od/urtica...rurticaria.htm ))


Next sxhool night.

Some how it can almost be guaranteed that, when I try to be a good girl, my life goes [censored] up. Latest example. I'm heading to school at night, growling at people wolf whistling at me in my uniform and thinking that I'm growling a lot recently and mostly at paedos, when my communicator goes off. Great. A code 40. Local net alerting nearest hero to an emergency. I pulled up the details and asked HAL to vocalise. He's useful for that. I heaved the pack off my back and looked for somewhere to change as he relayed that Tuatha were holding people in Salamanca.

Which is how I ended up in the principles office some 45 minutes later explaining why I was late. She asked me if I thought continually being Tardy was acceptible behaviour. I didn't know what tardy was but I was guessing it had something to do with lateness. Or British Science Fiction. I responded that no, it wasn't but leaving those people in the hands of the Tuatha was even more unacceptable, wasn't it? She nodded at this but argued that I could have left it to another hero. I could have argued this all night but time in English was passing and we were off the picture books now. I had a pretty good grasp of the letters and didn't want to lose it now I had it so I agreed and said I'd do that next time if I knew there was another hero who could get there fast enough to stop people from dying. She sighed and allowed me to leave for class.

A few hours later came lunch and the sort of mass produced <edited> that's the second most hated thing about this country after President Pinhead. Normally Jason joined me for this spectacle as I reminisced on the lasagnes, Paellas, Hosins and everything else I could cook far better than a microwave. But not tonight. I looked around. He wasn't even in the room. Might be sick. I figured I'd call him on his phone - he'd given me the number - only to be told he wasn't in the local area. I shrugged. He'd probably gone on holidays, I thought. I'd see him in a week or so and smack him for not telling me.

Of course I actually saw him way before then. Home time, in fact. On a poster in the missing children shrine. He'd not made it home from that coffee he'd had with me.

Seemed I wasn't going home tonight. Time to hunt.

Later

Seems I shoulda known. I'd checked around for leads on Jason and the other missing kids and found summat was rotten in Ghost Central. Couldn't get many on the street to talk, of course, but the alley dwellers? They were a different matter. They were rarely seen and never acknowledged but they're the eyes an' ears of a community.. They look on as the world goes by and all of them - and I mean ALL of them - pointed me towards the place he'd met me the night before last. Idiot that I am. They'd often seen panicked kids being taken in there by people at night when no-one was watching. It was just the fear of the place that kept people away. No-one of importance saw, no-one knew and, more to the point, no-one listened. The homeless had their kids too. And they were vanishing, same as the rest. Jason wasn't a street kid. He would have been safe. if some idiot hadn't put a sword through the Fear symbol and broken it's power. My fault. My job to clear it up.

Entering through the gate didn't seem like a good idea so I opted for the different approach. I pushed off the ground and immediately wished the backpack had room for my winged boots as I torpedoed into the branches of a tree. Bodily scratches healed up quickly but my jacket would need more repairs. It was rapidly becoming a <edited> patchwork job. I pushed myself slightly to the left, from the woody embrace, and made my way across the skies to the empty field. Now, if I were a hidden house, where would I be, I wondered? And, more important for landing, how tall would I be? Hmm. At least three storeys tall I thought as I smacked my head into a wall. Hurt like... well, like I'd smacked my head into a wall but it seemed it was quiet. I brought my feet down and started feeling to see if I could find something like a window. Sometimes they don't booby trap these things with tricks like electric bars. Sometimes they do. They had with this one.

Which is the reason I wear gloves with a rubber layer. I pulled it out and steped onto the windowsill. Now I was half in and half out of the invisibility field. I could see in on a dormitory. One from hell, it seemed. Six kids, chained to beds. The noise had woken them and at least one was looking in my direction. Not Jason. I can see <edited> on the sheets. Someone was gonna pay. I put my finger to my lips to indicate his silence. He took the hint and told the rest to quiet. Not the cavalry they wanted, I thought, but the only one that could slip through this half open window. The smell was extraordinary. Some of the <edited> had dried. How long had these kids been here? I crossed to the door and drew my blades. Someone was coming. I'd planned on using the teleport tags on the kids here. The mistake would be seen at the other end and even the zig infirmary had to be better than this. Seemed I wasn't going to get the chance. Non fatal attacks only, I reminded myself. I also considered I couldn't afford to lose this so I did something I'd told myself I'd never do, something almost an affront to honour. I took my comm out. And hit the emergency button. Then I kicked the door in the face of the first guy through the door. A tsoo. Probably had a lot of help.

Yep, I thought as the door exploded, a LOT of help.


cpt all your base


The Chaotic Good was asleep in his apartment with this Com Unit next to his ear. After missing the Lady Arete thing he was determind not to miss another Emergency.

The Com unit screamed the Member In Distress Signal. The huge purple bulk barked a swearword as he fell out of bed with a loud thud.

Clutching his head where he hit it off the side of the bed he dashed off to Croatoa, while waiting for the Train he called a friend who lived in Croatoa. Magical Darren met CG at the station and headed towards the area that the Call had been sent from.

Wolf Blade


Great. About five of them. Or more. I wasn't counting, I was slashing as much as I could to limited effect. They must have a healer working the crowd and he was in the coridoor. Smart guy. How long had I been fighting? Felt like twenty minutes but the others would be here before that, wouldn't they? It felt like I was being punched seven ways from Sunday and I was doing my best to concentrate on the fight. I put my swords straight into a gut and felt the chi boost increase my strength as he finally fell over. I took a chance and swung into one of my best attacks, a swing to the right, a swing to the left and a straight up. The hilt caught the inker under the chin and I heard his jaw break as his eyes went up in their sockets. He was out of it. Another slammer to my head and I was almost seeing stars.

Travelling master had taught me how to withstand pain and stunning blows by concentrating inside myself by various means during our travels, making use of my mutant fast healing ability to teach faster. The lash had been his favourite. It was pain I could cope with. Kinda like this now. The shurikens weren't nice either. My jacket was looking kind of like an impressionist painting now. I was gonna need a new one soon. I was going backwards, I noted, into the room. Great, let more of them in to hit me. As long as the sorcerer made an appearance I could deal... There he was. Stupid hat and Pyjamas. Nice. Were those bunny slippers or was I concussed? Never mind. I let them think they'd dropped me to one knee. I couldn't hit the medicine man from here but... I remembered a trick I'd seen in a film - the Punisher and I KNOW I shouldn't have watched it - and decided I was happy to have adjusted Fire's 'flick knife in the heel' plan. I dropped one blade and drew the knife from the shoe. I think it amused them. They certainly paused for a minute. Unlucky for the healer, I though as I fired the spring loaded blade at him. I think I hit him somewhere in the high chest but I was too busy diving for my dropped blade to look. <Edited> but I was gonna feel this in the morning. Where were the guys? Then I thought. Invisible house. Aw <edited>, I was gonna have to take this outside. And I wasn't wearing the wings. I felt one of them grab me as I dove through the window into the garden. Halfway out I remembered there was a bit of a drop here and tried slowing myself. Not easy with a 120lb guy hanging onto your slacks and I landed on him. I heard something crack. Me or him? I looked down and grimaced. Him. Still, the zig could probably save him. I slapped a tag on him and turned to see the front door was open. <Edited> me, that was a <Editing> lot of Eastern bastards...


cpt all your base


CG turned the corner and saw Wolfblade and what looked like a Tsoo Warrior fall.

"Aw, <Deleted!>. What are the <OH NOES!> Tsoo doin' here?" Thought CG aloud.
"No Idea buddy, never seen 'em round here before" said Magical Darren, his hands lighting on Fire.
Several Tsoo warriors charged from the front door at the house towards Wolf Blade.
"Come on, bes' give the wee Lass a hand or two!" rumbled CG pulling his Axe from under his cape.
Wolf Blade was fighting fiercely, her blades a blur, Tsoo were dropping around her but one managed to evade her attacks and was about to smash her to the back of her head when a small fireball smashed into his face. Blinded and in agony his hands went to his face, Wolf span and her swords dropped him. Another Tsoo tried to lunge at Wolf Blade when CG leapt at him, his axe coming down hard on his spine, almost breaking it. Wolf Blade turned and saw the huge purple man and looked for a moment like she would attack, after all he did have the same style of tatoo. Thankfully for him a Tsoo leaped onto his back and tried to stab him with a poisoned Dagger. CG easily grabbed the back on the mans neck and threw him to the ground. Wolf made sure he was no longer a threat, she grinned at the big man and the regrouped Tsoo charged.
It seemed that the Tsoo would never cease there attack, they seemed to keep coming. CG was doing his best to keep up with Wolf Blade while Magical Darren hovered above them throwing Fireballs and shouting what was coming at them.
One Tsoo managed to get past CGs defences and cut him across the chest. He growled with Rage and grabbed the Tsoo by his head and threw him at a Sorcerer who picked the wrong moment to teleport in.

CG sighed with relief, Tsoo lay around in various states of conciousness. They were duly tagged.
"Good fightin' there lass" said Chaotic Good wiping sweat from his brow "Damn Good fightin'"

Wolf Blade


I looked up as boss landed. I couldn't tell what she thought of how I looked, all scratched, torn, bloodied and bruised and tagging a lot of Tsoo. Wasn't that great at reading her face yet. Would have to sort that out later, I supposed. She landed and looked around before asking me an' CG what the situation was. I told her. Possibly hundreds of kids chained to beds, many Tsoo on the loose. I could swear her eyes darkened but that was maybe in response to the fireball she <edited> two new Tsoo with. I watched as CG and his mate smacked them silly and I made a plan. Me. I'm the sidekick telling the architect what to do? Oddness abound. CG and his mate should go through the downstairs door now we knew where it was and Fire and I should go through the upstairs. They listened! They actually listened! Fire flew me up to the window and in. It seemed I'd sprained an ankle and it hadn't healed itself yet. Give it a moment... Plus she could somehow see the window from outside.

Fires eyes contracted and anger crossed her face, letting go of me with one hand she swiped at the window. White hot flames coming off her finger burned straight though the reaming bars and swung me inside. She flew over me andstraight at the Tsoo coming though the door. I was kinda glad I wasn't them. This was gonna be messy. She slammed them back into the corridor and I heard several bones break as the impacted the wall opposite. I follwed as boss headed right and we came to a junction. Again, I was about to follow but I looked down the other way and... Yep. More Tsoo. How many of these bastards were there? At least now I had more Firepower on my side. Heh. I made a funny.

Ten minutes further down the fight, I'd lost sight of boss but dound more trapped children than I could count. People trafficking, one said. To the factories out West. I'd heard of those places, places where Children worked in sweatshops for pennies and food whilst the bosses raked the cash in, hand over fist. Other kids they put to beg and Fagin on the street. Had I been born into that? Had I been one of them? No matter. I put my foot into the groin of a yellow ink man and whacked him on the back of the neck as he doubled. Wasn't going to waste him in front of already scared kids, was I? He hadn't gone limp before I hit him so he could easily have taken brain damage. Could. Not good enough but it'd do for now. I slapped a teleport badge on him and booted him in the stomach before he faded out. Move on. Free the kids later.

The next room had Jason in it. Naked apart from boxers. Someone had been having fun with a lash, I saw. He was tied to a pole and was on his knees. as the sun came in through the skylight high in the roof. Murky sun ,to be sure, but still enough to cause him pain so he was trying to... There was someone else in the room. Long black hair? Check. Goatee? Check. Kick [censored] tattoos all over his body? Check. Tsoo boss? Check.

"Two million to set up the organisation." He said quietly. "Three years of operation." He drew two swords. "Powerful magic enchantments." The swords swept with flame. Fire Dagger. Nice. "And a CHILD brings it down?" He laughed then stopped as I raised my own swords.
"Best laid plans of mice and men often get <Edited> up by Cats and women, <edited>-for-brains."
His teeth clenched. No, wait, I mean he clenched his teeth. How can teeth clench themselves? He seemed angry. "How does a CHILD possess the Ghost Sabres blades!??" He asked.
I shrugged. Didn't have a clue what he was on about but didn't need to let him know that. "Found 'em on E-Bay." He came at me. This guy was fast. Block, parry, strike. Keep the body moving. Never stand in one place for even a second and keep the fight from Jason without looking like I'm doing so and... oop, duck! A sword swished over my head and I struck for his gut with my blades, only to have him parry both blades with his one and attempt to disarm me of at least one of them. I twisted myself so I kept hold of them and grimaced as his other blade slipped into my leg. Grief, that was painful. The flame wasn't helping but it gave me a free shot with the hilt at his head so I took it, scoring a glancing blow that caused a shallow cut above his left eye. He struck at my stomach and seemed surprised the blade only made a light gash. There are advantages to being a Icon visitor. The Kevlar Tee-shirt design was one of them. I struck down, not at his abdomen but at his foot and scored a hit, taking off two of his toes as his blade cut a large slice into my arm. NOW I dropped the sword that hand was carrying. I focussed my healing ability but even that would take time to put back the chunk of flesh he'd taken then. Blood pumped, mine and his, all over the cold, polished floor. I swept low and he jumped the blade. I reversed it and caught his foot with my hand. He landed on his back but flipped up quickly. Glossy finish on the floor now. Slippery even. So I went for another trick I'd learnt on my travels. Even the most invulnerable of us has one weak point that can be hit by a fast opponent if they're fast enough. It's a finishing move to combat because only a very few will be able to stand after it's successfully applied. I charged at him. He stood ready to reply. And paused for a crucial split second as I dropped my remaining blade.

I dove for the slippery ground between his legs and slid under him as his blades swept down, just missing my feet. I twisted quickly as he turned and put my full power into a double kick to his knees. His kneecaps shattered and he dropped. Pretty good thing that it had worked as I was pretty out of it. Didn't have much left if it hadn't worked. But he'd dropped. And dropped his swords too. I wanted to kill him pretty much now. But I had to make allowances for the status I had now. Plus he looked a wimp now, screaming like that. So I put a blade in his side, cut up slightly through his tats and drew tha blade back. Not his turn to die today. But whatever he got from the tats wasn't gonna work now. They never did after being bladed. Then I smacked a Zig TP onto his forehead and set about freeing Jason as the crippled [censored] faded out, leaving just his toes. I called boss on the comm and asked her to clear up and free the kids here. I needed a lie-down. And probably some Tylonol. Medbay called. For Jason too. I held him close and took us both to the medical bay at base.

I'd be back later. I just needed to get that blood stopped.



Fire Singer

It took Fire a while to clean up, she had called in the PDD and they where already freeing the kids letting her have a poke around for any hidden Tsoo. It look like they had all fled, Fire watched several body bags go by some the size of men the others the size of children. After ensuring that the PDD had it under control she thanked CG and Darren for getting to Wolf so quickly and made her way back to the base.
It took a few minutes to get through the already growing throng of reporters but she eventually got back to the base and looked in on the medbay where a mess prevailed for now… Well wolf was more a mess than her male friend and Fire was not going to let her get away with that. Or leave the medbay before the auto doc could work on her.
“I don’t think you could have made a bigger mess of your self if you tried” Fire said while licking her thumb then rubbing the blood and dust of Wolfs face. Fire enjoyed looking after Wolf, it reminded her of looking after her younger sisters. Sometimes a bit too much with Wolf's stubbornness, She thought. Fire made sure that both her and the boy that she brought back received proper medical attention from the auto doc before handing Wolf a phone from the front desk and informed her that she should inform her friends parents that he is all right.
After a long phone call the boy was eventually teleported to croatoa general where his parents would meet him.
“You can sleep at the base today Wolf…you look tired” Fire handed Wolf a glass of warm milk and sat her down.
“You did very well today Wolf…I would not be surprised if you where given a medal for your actions today. Tell me what happened though”
"Basically," Wolf replied, trying not to scratch at the edges of the missing piece of her arm. "I went looking for Jason who'd gone missing. Found a hidden house and decided to recon. Pressed the red button when I got in. Lotta tsoo." She added slurrily, before lying down on the bed, the knock out drugs finally kicking in. "Cheater." Wolf murmured. Fire picked Wolf up in her arms and carried her to her room before lying her down in her bed. Fire smiled and patted wolf on the head.
“Well done cub, you made me proud” Fire left the room leaving Wolf to sleep.



I woke about 1930 that night and decided that warm milk did knock you out. Especially if it was drugged. I still had a few things to do so I swung myself out of the bed and fell over. Legs a bit like elastic, it seemed. The wedge that had been cut out of my arm was pretty much just a divot now amd I decided that, wise or not, I'd better be ready for school. First things first though and I asked HAL for any information he had on the 'Ghost Sabre' and his or her blades. Hal chirruped that he'd search his files and that, if I left the base, he couldn't be responsible for my medical welfare. I argued that he wasn't anyway and hit the streets to get a new jacket and go to Croatoa hospital.

Blue, I thought as I entered the medical centre. The jacket was like my old one but deep blue. It wasn't my best colour but... Two adults intercepted me. "Wolf?" They asked carefully. I checked them over. Blue eyes, pale skin, a look of cautious hope on their faces.
"Who's asking?" I replied. All of a sudden I was under hug attack. Ick. I couldn't breathe and my face was in a woman's cleavage. I could hear words echoing in my mufflered ears. "You daved him!" It said echoingly. "You brought him back!" Oh. Jason's parents. Ah nerts.

Aw [censored]. They were pulling out of the city. Wisconsin? What the <edited> is in Wisconsin? Relatives apparently. They'd made the decision last week and had been planning it for sometime in the future. Now they were off as soon as Jason was out of hospital. I couldn't say I blamed them. After all, it was safer there. I think.

Anyway, I made my way to school. Half the missing shrine posters were, heh, missing now. I changed in the unisex changing room - weren't these things illegal now - and mase my way to the classroom. I opened the door to applause and sighed before sitting myself down at my desk. I was here for learning, not applause. I didn't want or need applause.

((Also on the Buzz Around Paragon site - Ta, Romanov!))

CROATOA CARNAGE
By Chester Dumas

Croatoa is no stranger to violence but the extraordinary conflict that occured here early yesterday morning has stunned even the populace here.

Over the last few months across Paragon and beyond, children have been going missing from their homes and the streets without link and without trace. For many parents, hope was running low of ever seeing their loved ones again. That changed in the early hours of Valentine's day when a New Heroes union team including Chaotic Good, Fire Singer and teenage Vigilante Wolf Blade investigated a house that had come to their attention in Croatoa. Upon entry to the house, the heros discovered a scene from nightmares. Children chained to beds, malnourished, abused and forced to sleep in their own faeces.

Officers on the scene reported that these children were being stored here before being shipped to sweat shops and prostitution abroad. The zig reports that over fifty tsoo were sent to their medical bay after the encounter with injuries ranging from burns to stab wounds.

The PPD are now attempting to reunite missing children with their parents. Please contact the Croatoa station.

The NHU heros were unavailable for comment.

I was wondering when I subscribed to that!

((Well, I GOT a window joke in there...))

Fox sat on his setee and wondered what time it was. Star Trek had just ended, with Picard saving an alien planet full of humans with ridged noses from an erupting volcano by firing some sort of phase beam down into it. Personally Fox thought that'd just make the volcano more active but what did he know? He wasn't a script writer. At least this time they hadn't fiddled with the transporter settings or gone into that imaginary room of theirs that kept trying to kill them. He was bored. It was somewhere around o130 in the morning and it was that period between hunting and sleeping that he always found so annoying. He'd tried a topping on his rats this time and didn't think it had worked... All he had to do now was wait for Kitisha to return home.

The telephone rang and he picked it up. <Hello> Said the voice at the other end. A female one. <Is this Mr Sam Fox?>
"Yes and I not double D in anything." Fox replied.
<Please hold for Lord Recluse.>
"I not hold for..." Fox paused. His brow crinkled. "Hold for who?" He asked.
<Lord Recluse.> Said a deep, obviously masculine voice that stripped the earwax from Foxs' ear. <And I am not best pleased with your interference in my plans.>
"I happy for that. What want?"
<Just to tell you that I plan to kill you at my earliest convenience.> Fox turned down the volume as Deep Space 9 started.
"You call at this hour to tell that? Not keep office hours?"
<Being the leader and demigod of villainy is a 24-7 job.> Recluse hissed. <And the last time I had a window here, Statesman flew in through it. I have difficuly keeping track of... Why am I telling you this?>
"Not know. Maybe you need holiday? Two week in Bahamas? Unstress you."
<That was where Sister Psyche and Bahamas fisheries thwarted my plans to contaminate the world's supply of Salmon. Forgot to buy a licence, didn't I?>
Fox tutted. This was getting wierd. <Anyhow.> The voice concluded. <You will die at my earliest convenience.>
A little light went on above Foxs' head. "Is this Mr Hawton from 15b? I TOLD you do great Recluse voice but not believe it!"
<I...> Fox heard something click in the background. <Mental note, exterminate Mr Hawton from 15b, Grand Phippher Apartments, Galaxy City.> The click sound again. <Goodbye, Mr Fox.> He hung up.

And Fox woke up. Sprawled across his settee, dead rat hanging from his hand, drizzling what remained of it's life's blood over the floor. Picard was still firing lazers at the Volcano. And failing this time. Fox tried to place himself and held his head so the rat bounced off his nose. "Not ever try cheese on rat again..." He told himself.