Paul Heller Stood on the pier and waited. His rental car sat alone in the rental beach houses driveway. The pier came with the house, and so it occurred to him that he stood upon a rental pier.
There was a time, he mused, when he wouldnt have been so careless as to bring his enemies down upon him. Among the Olympians, he had been one of the most clever. Perhaps only Aphrodites protégé, Eros, was more clever. Or perhaps swift Hermes. (Ah
poor Hermes no sentient being, mortal or immortal, should face such a fate.)
The cigarette was comfortable in his hand. Its smoke rose and circled his head and enticed him to put it to his lips and draw its full, rich tobacco flavor into his lungs.
Such creature comforts held power over him now. Perhaps taking human form and remaining such for so many years had rooted him in the role. If he tried right now, could he return to his former, glorious self?
Still, he had been wise to use the last of his waning divinity to take this form. His peers had largely squandered their last energies making desperate, useless displays of vanity before a human race that largely considered them to be abstract aspects of the collective consciousness, which left many of them little more than vague suggestions of the splendorous beings they once were. The catastrophic events that soon after had rocked their world all but sealed the eventual extinction of the Olympian race.
So he had left the universe of his origin and came to this Earth to begin a new life. A different kind of life. A life among the mundane, ordinary finitely-lived humans.
Why had he decided to settle in the Rogue Isles, he had no idea.
He glanced at the house sitting on the hill above the sandy beach. There was still only one car in the drive.
Two-hundred feet to either side of the house was another house just like it smallish, with blue vinyl siding, sitting on stilts. Further south, Myrtle Beach was a loud, gaudy, ocean resort; the kind of trashy town that mobsters loved to go to for a quickie weekend, or a weekend quickie; a town that hosted biker gang conventions, with all the amenities the open road barbarians demanded. But here, on the north end of the Grand Strand, things were smaller, slower. Rentals and campgrounds and mom and pop motels.
In the distance a pack of motorcycles rumbled down the highway.
The god of light put out his cigarette tapped another out of the pack.
Angelina would be here soon. He couldnt wait to see her. He just hoped he had time to tell her that before the other gods gathered.
Okay. This is weird.
Last night I was singing opera to this woman. She was giddy about it. She was kissing me all over my face and hugging me and I thought she was going all cougar on me. But then she started crying. That was pretty scary to be honest because she was really going through Kleenex and waving that .45 around.
Maybe Ive got Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe Im thinking there is some sort of chemistry between us, but when I hugged her and asked her what was wrong, she just looked at me kind of sad and psi-zapped me to peaceful oblivion. Again.
Somehow shes dampened my powers. (Ive had it happen before when fighting Night Widows. Id really love to learn that technique.) So Im pretty helpless right now. And right now is me laying in the back seat of a rental car, hogtied and gagged while she drives past palmetto trees and listens to Vikki Carr on the mp3 player.
Shes been talking to people on her cell. Im not sure who, but it seems to involve an ambush. The victim of that, now, I am pretty sure of.
Over the past couple of days, she has told me why she is so enraged at Paul Phillip Heller. He made her husband gay.
I know, that doesnt make sense. None of this makes sense, but thats what she said.
Carli was straight until he went hunting for Paulie!
Thats exactly how she said it, accompanied by dramatic hand flourishes that involved waving her pistol around. Millions of dollars were involved also. Family business is complicated to say the least.
She just turned off the music. It was in the middle of It Must Be Him, so something is probably about to happen. Something bad.
Its always something bad lately.
((so uh...i just wanted to pop in to say i liked these stories, bit complex but i don't care they're cool!))
[ QUOTE ]
((so uh...i just wanted to pop in to say i liked these stories, bit complex but i don't care they're cool!))
[/ QUOTE ]
((Thanks! That was a very nice thing to say. 
))
The ocean breeze blew in, bringing with it dark clouds and the smell of sea foam. The dying sun set behind the tree line on the shore, giving the ocean a surreal look in the twilight. In the distance a pack of motorcycles roared toward destiny.
Two people stood facing each other at the end of a long pier. One of the people held a gun.
Angelina.
Paul.
You look beautiful.
Dont start that. You always do that and it always makes me feel like crap.
Fair enough. Wheres the boy?
Hes safe.
What are you going to do with him?
Im taking him back to the Isles, where he belongs.
He doesnt belong there. Hes not cut out for your kind of amorality.
Dont tell me what hes cut out for! Hes mine now! He goes where I say he goes! Hell do what I tell him to do!
Angelina, please
youll kill him.
Hes a strong one. Lots of life in him. Hell make it. Your odds, however...
You dont have to do this.
Yes. I do.
You never loved Carli. Hes happier now, believe me.
What do you know about happiness? You with your cow of a wife!
I never loved her either I admit that.
So
you came alone like I said?
Yes.
With the money?
Whats left of it.
I guess we should do this then.
Yeah. Guess so.
Are you going to do it yourself?
I had thought about it, but
I cant.
Then why do it at all?
Oh, it has to be done. You have to pay. Not just for Carli, but for betraying the Family.
To whom are you giving the honor?
Someone who cant be traced back to the Marcones, the...
What was that? Between the surf and those bloody motorcycles, I didnt hear you.
I said a biker gang, the Gods of War.
Thats what I thought you said. You know, that might have been a bad choice
The ocean breeze blew in, bringing with it a dark god...
Ouch. Automobile glass is hard to break. I thought the back glass would never come out. Probably should have tried the rear door glass it might have been easier.
Angelina left me in the car and walked away. Not long after that, the motorcycles came. Not long after that, the dampening effect she has on my powers faded. I was able to use my TK to quietly push out the back glass, and then it was simple matter to cut my bonds on the twisted metal window framing.
Im standing in the driveway of a beach house. There are two others on either side. The tiny front yard is filled with big bikes. They spill out of the yard and onto the edge of the road. I can hear the sound of boots walking on wood behind the house. Its the sound of death marching.
I wish I had my stealth suit, but when I went out to that bookstore, I wasnt planning on doing anything requiring special equipment. Actually, I wasnt planning on being out that long. Im lucky I happened to have my medication on me or Id have that problem to contend with also.
Angelina has been great about giving me my injections. Shes taken much better care of me than your average kidnapper would.
Even without my stealth suit, Im very cat-quiet, and the sun is nearly set, so its no problem to sneak around to the back.
Theres a pier out here. A long one. There are like two or three dozen bikers Gods of War, their vests say marching down it. At the far end I can barely make out Angelina and
That man. That has to be him.
I feel like vomiting. Theyre going to kill him! These brutes must be who she was talking to on her cell.
I dont know him. But if Im ever going to get a chance to, then Ive got to save him.
I forget all about sneaking and charge headlong into the mob.
Angelina Marcone kissed Paul Heller on the lips. Actually, on the lips wasnt exactly accurate. She kissed him deeply. She kissed him with her body. She kissed him with her soul. And when she was done, the heat was stifled by the ice in her veins and she said, Kill him.
The thirty-four members of the Gods of War Motorcycle Club parted like a pack of animals giving way to a deadlier predator, and then closed again around Paul Heller. When they moved, the sound of heavy chains rattled mutely under the roar of the surf. Their victim could scream all he wanted to, and no one would hear him.
Ill pay you, Heller said, his voice calm and level. Ill pay you ten million dollars to just walk away from here.
Ten million? one of the Gods of War said. And you have that in cash?
Before Heller could answer, a logging chain smashed through the speakers skull, pushing his eyeballs and teeth out of his face. The man fell at Hellers feet.
Heller followed the chain from the mess of blood and brains to the giant hands that held it. The fellow was at least six-feet, nine-inches tall, with a shaved head and a handlebar mustache. He was buff, with biceps bigger around than his head and forearms to match. He wore nothing under his leather vest and his bare chest was covered with tattoos of dragons and skulls. A large, black, intersecting GW was over his heart.
The Marcones have been good to us, the brute said. They ask a favor, we give them the favor. You think ten million dollars is enough to buy our loyalty? You think were for sale?
Heller looked at the brute. There was something in his eyes, his expression. Something familiar.
Very well then, he said, I have nothing to lose at this point anyway,
Then he raised his arms up high over his head and when he brought them down again, he held a flaming sword in each hand.
Lets have at it, shall we?
My feet hit the pier and Im almost to the bikers when out from the midst of them steps Angelina. She still has her gun in her hand and Im fairly certain shes going to use it.
Before she can mute my powers again, I unleash a psionic barrage that knocks her off her feet. She looks up at me, her eyes widened in surprise and I hit her with another, harder one.
Im angry. She has pulled me away from my life from Jessie and though there seems to be some strange bond or attraction between us I want to show her she cant push me around any longer. I will not be her toy, her tool.
Ahead, I can see flames swirling among the motorcycle thugs. Some of them dive off the pier; others fall down engulfed by flames. One, larger and taller than the others swings a chain in each hand, smashing through the piers railing, through his fellow bikers, through the pier itself in his attempts to kill my father. Above the battle and the waves I can hear the giant bikers maniacal laughter.
My father seems to be the source of the swirling flames, and for now, seems to be holding his own.
All that, I take in with a glance because Angelina may be down, but she is not out. She struggles to her feet just in time for me to lay her back down with another psi-bolt. When she tries to speak, I hit her with another.
Im relishing my dominion over her almost too much, and I know its the manifestation of the anger I keep subdued deep inside me. It occurs to me that I could kill her right here, right now, and that, though she showed me mock-kindness, still she would deserve it for the untold evils she has committed in her life.
Her body is limp, her arms thrown out to her sides and the pistol several feet away. Shes still breathing. I can see her chest rise and fall. Her eyes are open, though slightly glazed from the psionic beating she has taken. Her head probably hurts like hell. I know that one more attack could cause her brain to hemorrhage.
I do not attack again. Instead I tell her, If you try to rise from where you are, I will kill you.
Im sorry, Mickey
She said it so softly, I barely heard her.
Im sorry, Mickey. I didnt mean for it to go this way. Youre strong. Im proud of you.
I can still barely hear her above the noise of the battle and the waves. I kneel down closer, prepared to strike her again if this is a feint.
Im proud of you, Mickey
proud to be your mother.
High above the fray, from the night sky, Aphrodite watched events unfold. She was not happy.
Ares bloodlust was getting the better of him. He was going to kill Helios and forget all about the bigger picture. Though from the looks of things, Helios was holding his own, employing mortal magicks and fighting techniques to hold the war god at bay.
The biggest danger was that in possessing the giant biker her former lover might well expend the last of his essence and, even if they did somehow get what they needed from the demi-god boy and a meta-human female, theyre combined energies might not be enough to open a portal home. They could be stuck here, fading gradually into the mists of myth.
The plan had failed and it was time to come up with a new one, or to go out in a blaze of Olympian glory.
Paul Heller was beginning to tire. This human form had its limitations and Ares was pushing him past them. Simply avoiding the whipping chains was taxing, and maintaining the magical fire swords was draining his endurance even quicker.
The bikers were all down except for this one which housed he essence of the god of bloodlust. He had taken them down quickly so that he could focus on the one opponent. But as the chains ripped more and more of the pier away so that Heller was now surrounded more by holes than planks, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He had only one chance. He dropped to one knee
Quarter? he said.
Angelina Marcone raised her head and looked at her son. He was indeed handsome, like his father, but he was strong and ruthless in battle like herself. She smiled.
He was speechless at the moment -- confused, no doubt at the revelation with which she had just hit him.
Her own head was clearing her son packed much more pure power than she did, even if he still lacked finesse. She could think straight now, defend herself if needed, but she didnt think he would attack her again.
She wondered what kind of life he had now, without his memories of childhood. He had told her about his girlfriend, Jessie. Any time shed stroked his face or kissed his cheek, the conversation always went back to Jessie. She hoped the girl made him happy. She hoped the girl had made him a man.
Mother? the boy said. The word sounded wonderful rolling off of his tongue.
Then something toward the end of the pier caught the boys eye. She turned to follow his gaze.
The battle had stopped. The big biker was just standing there like an idiot with Paulie kneeling in front of him. Why didnt the giant finish it?
Angelina growled in disgusted annoyance, then quickly got to her feet. As she ran past it, she scooped up her .45
Angelin -- Mother, no! the boy the boy shouted.
The sound almost stopped her, but no. She would not stop. She looked back at him and, before he could gather his wits, knocked him cold with a mental blast.
One way or another, Paulie Heller had to die tonight.
Wake up.
The voice came from inside me.
Get up.
I find myself getting to my feet.
You can stop this.
I dont know who is speaking to my mind, but I feel compelled to do as I am told. Besides, it seems to me that it is in my best interest to stop my parents from killing each other if I am ever to get to know them.
Im a bit dizzy, but still I sprint the length of the pier to where my mother has the gun leveled at my fathers head.
You took him away from me! You took my baby away from me!
We both agreed it was in the best interest of your chosen career with Arachnos.
I was young! I didnt know any better! And Carli
Carli never gave me a baby!
A week ago I had no past whatsoever. Now, Im hearing details I could live without.
Mother? I say, my voice soft and moderated. Im here now.
She looks back, over her shoulder at me, and my heart breaks for her when I see grief.
Still, the .45 is aimed at my father.
Touch her.
And I do. I reach out with one finger and catch one of her tears.
Whatever entity had been inside me, guiding me, speaking to me, flows through the touch from me to her. Then the tears really start to fall.
Oh, Paulie
we should have got married.
I hope my father has sense enough to
Youre right, Angelina. Giving you up is the biggest regret I have in life.
That might do it.
We would have been good together. I would have given you children, lots of children
The bikers been just standing there smirking, listening like it was his business.
Come out of her Aphrodite, he says. Let her shoot him.
Angelina sort of shudders and her voice changes a little as she says, I cannot, my energies are depleted. Here, my essence must stay. And then she shudders again and its like shes Angelina again.
My father takes this all in stride like hes seen it before.
He says, Its not too late, Angelina. Youre young enough. We can still have children.
I blink. Not from what he says, but from what he means. All this, Were going to take your blood and use it to plant your seed into the belly of a meta-powered female human
Cassi said my father was a god. But now he seems to be confined to a mortal body. A demi-god like me. With a meta-powered mate.
The biker growls. NO! I demand blood!
Angelina shoots him.
It doesnt kill him of course. It probably would have, but since Ares is borrowing his body, all it does is knock him down and make him hurt. That seems to calm him down a lot.
Mom and dad talk for maybe another twenty minutes while Ares sits and waits for his wound to heal. I think they really do love each other, but gods and mobsters arent really that good at expressing things like that. Still, its good to see them together. I just know that once we get to know each other, they will both reform from their criminal lifestyles and move to Paragon City with me.
Then Ares has to go and spoil the moment.
We should go. We should work together to create a portal home.
Home? Wait
heres home
Yes, youre right. Ive been here for far too long. One cannot avoid ones fate.
But
They do some sort of little choreographed thing with their bodies. I cant explain it to you. Its
weird.
And then their portal opens, a ring of light with a dark center, like a corona around an eclipse.
Wait
Ares doesnt stop. He steps on through. Mom and dad, they stop and turn toward me.
Go home, Mickey, my mother says, This is where you belong. You cant go where we go.
Shes right, Mick, my father agrees, This is where you belong. You are a child of this world. Like us, you cannot avoid your fate.
Butis this all I get? Is this all you have for me?
Im so freaking angry! Im being abandoned! After all theyve done to me!
What do you want?
I dont know
really
I dont
My mother kisses my cheek and hugs me tight, then kisses my cheek again.
There. You will have love in your life, no matter how difficult that life may be. That is my gift to you.
Then she steps through the portal.
I have a gift for you too, my father says, I give you this.
He touches my forehead.
They called me the god of light. More correctly, I was the god of illumination of truth. I give you the power of truth. You may use it once, at your discretion, to either reveal, or to hide.
Im stunned. What kind of gift is that? One time? I can only use it once?
He turns to step through the portal.
Wait! I have questions! Why did you wipe my memory? Can you give them back? I
Theyre gone. Only the ring of light remains. Im alone.
All alone.
Then a the black center shimmers and someone starts to emerge. Have they changed their minds? Are they coming back? All I want is just a little more time to get to know them.
A voice from inside the portal says, I still want blood! and Biker-Ares fist flies out of the dark and smashes into my face.
Moments later, I wake up to the taste of my own blood. Im still on the pier. Its still night time. The portal is gone.
Alias, Smith will return in What Doesn't Kill You...
((i shouldn't have laughed at ares' last minute KO blow but still, pretty epic ending scene))
((Thanks. ))
((lovin' this so hard, dude. thanks for the frequent updates ))
((Bump while ideas percolate and charater develops via rp.))
((Another bump.))
((Ok, I should learn my lesson and just not post in threads i like to read...cos as soon as I do, they fall off the map. Moar updates please, Heroid.))
((I have to get him back to the point where I can do a plot-driven story with him. Right now he's all tore up because he broke up with his girlfriend.))
Two things you should know before we proceed.
One Jessie and I are no longer Jessie and I. Circumstance has come between us, and Im afraid were just not the people we were a few months ago. Very sad, but one must move on, even though one wishes terribly that he didnt have to. As a result, my relationship to my friend Ben (as well as to several other friends I had made at Maggies Rock) is strained, and I find myself a bit isolated. Metamite whose true identity must be kept secret from the general public -- and Jenny, the little-girl ghost, still seem to like me. (Indeed, if ever Jennys smile ceases to lighten my bad moods, then I shall be a lost cause indeed. Shes the little sister I wish I had, and indeed, the closest thing to family I do have.)
And two it seems as though I am some sort of demigod. I havent done much research into it, mind you, and dont really plan to. Its all very confusing, with one sun-god blending identities with another sun-god until they all become associated with Apollo, who may or may not be my father, depending on ones interpretation of Greek mythology. To murk things up further, my father claimed to come from a neighboring universe, so Im not quite sure if he is of the same Olympians that certain denizens of Paragon City claim relation to or not. In other words, its entirely possible I am Statesmans fourth cousin or great-great step-nephew or some such. Or not. The gist of it is that my status as demigod seems to be the source of my powers, and more, I seem to have abilities which I am only beginning to discover.
All of that is, however, a personal matter, and in the carrying out of heroic duties, personal matters do not
er
matter.
So it is that none of this weighs on my mind as I answer a call to respond to a bank robbery in Steel Canyon.
Why anyone would attempt to rob a bank in Paragon City is beyond me. By the time I arrive at the bank three other heroes are already there a feral-looking fellow with long wicked claws, a giant in titanium armor, and a floating girl crackling with electricity. While they stand plotting a strategy foil the robbers, I activate my stealth suit, open the door quietly and only as widely as necessary, and go on inside.
Freakshow are behind this one. They have the tellers corralled inside the branch managers office while other of them have moved on to the safe with its treasure trove of lockboxes and moneybags. That is where I go, for that is where the leader of this band is likely to be found.
Find it! Find it! one rather hulking pile of flesh and steel shouts to his underlings. Its worth more than everything else in this vault put together!
That piques my curiosity, so I remain unseen and watch them conduct their search. They blast and strong-arm the safe-boxes open, going through each thoroughly. A noise from the lobby draws the attention of the thieves. The other three heroes have made their entrance.
Damn! the leader shouts, Time to cut our losses! Grab and go!
The Freaks drop the lockboxes and grab as many bags of money as they can carry and try to get out of the bank with them. I can hear the ensuing battle and can tell from the sounds of it that the bad guys do not fare well. I decide to try to discover exactly what they were looking for.
I know I shouldnt, but I cant help but think its important, so I go through the unopened safe-deposit boxes looking for the item of such high value. I find the usual stuff heirloom watches, deeds, stock certificates nothing worth the amount the Freakshow leader had hinted at. All right, what do I do next?
If I found nothing usual of obvious value, then perhaps I should look for something unusual of hidden value.
I look again, searching for the odd piece something one wouldnt typically lock away for safe-keeping. The only thing I find is a CD in a clear jewel case. Its an old computer game, copyright 1994, called Adam Scotts, Choose Your Own Adventure: Hero City.
My five year old brother could do this.
Paley Whitmore is a wiseacre, but hes the best hacker in my small circle of acquaintances. Hes never liked me: in the beginning because we were on rival soccer teams in the city league, but now, I think it has more to do with the fact that he is currently dating Julia Kantner, a girl who had a crush on me not so very long ago. He isnt a student at the Rock, but lives nearby. His father owns a popular chain of steakhouses in the northeast. Paley is trying to open the game I found in the bank vault on his pc. I had tried it on mine, but it was written for a much older operating system.
Your five year old brother knows more about computers than I do then, I say.
Serious, dude do you even know where the on-button is? His voice, as it always is when speaking to me, is full of derision.
I know how to turn on a computer, I say and immediately know I phrased it poorly.
Ha! I bet you blow in its ear!
It is a stupid joke, but I had expected it, and it would not sting at all except that Julia is also present, a girl whose ear I had indeed once lightly blown into. I dont qualify it with a response. Julia, however, giggles.
I stand by quietly while Paley works. He accesses the games code, adds a few command lines, opens his machines registry, makes some changes that I recognize what he is up to makes me feel less like a digital moron. Once or twice I look over to Julia, and once or twice she is looking at me also. The eye contact makes us both visibly uncomfortable.
Voila! Paley suddenly shouts.
I turn my attention to his pcs monitor and there I see a close approximation of Back Alley Brawler and above him, like a banner, the words HERO CITY!
It was easy, Paley begins, and I listen because he has every right to brag about now. All I had to do was hey!
The screen begins to flash different colors and large numbers begin a countdown. With each flash a different hero races, flies, leaps across the screen with photorealistic graphics.
Whats it doing? I ask.
Its starting the game, dude! Whoa! Look at the detail no way this ran on a machine made in 1998!
A deep rumbling voice comes from Paleys pc speakers. It says, Hero City begins Now!
The monitor screen glows a dazzlingly bright white a white so bright it nearly blinds me! All I can see is Paleys silhouette as the glow speads out, engulfing the room. Then, the monitor goes dark and the glow is gone. And so is Paley.
Julia and I step forward hesitantly as if we are afraid we might get zapped also. Simultaneously, we look in Paleys chair. All that is there now is a piece of his finger with his class ring on it. Julia and I look up at each other in horror.
You killed him, she says.
Okay, kid. Ill level with you. I dont much think children should be licensed heroes.
Frank Howitzer is a portly gent, to say the least. Hes also a Paragon City Police Detective. He is the newest on a growing list of people who do not like me.
So why dont you tell me what happened to the Whitmore kid?
To Julias credit, she hadnt panicked when her boyfriend disappeared. Oh, she was upset, but I told her I didn't think Paley was dead -- just maybe teleported. I saw no reason for her to get into trouble on my account, so I promised her I would bring Paley back, and snuck her out by deceiving Mrs. Whitmore. (You know These are not the droids youre looking for.) And then I spent the next two hours trying to remember the codes Paley used to start the game. Of course, I was unsuccessful.
Around midnight, his mother came into his room to tell him that his friends needed to go home for the night. Thats when I told her Paley was gone. She assumed of course that I meant he had simply left. I let her assumption stand, and she believed me when I told her I was looking on his computer to try to find out where hed gone. She called the police right away.
I dont know. But if youll release me, Im sure I can find him.
Detective Howitzer just gives me that look that adults in authority love to give younger men my age; that look that says Im a pissant; that I dont know shoes from Shinola; that his wisdom is so far above mine as to make anything I may conceive of irrelevant. Im not going to tell him a bloody thing.
Im being nice, kid. I could have you arrested for obstruction of justice.
Oh? Arrest me then. Arrest all of us capes. Then you can stop your own bloody muggings.
Thats always a sore spot with the PCPD.
You think youre a tough one? Ive pissed out kidney stones that were tougher than you!
Then piss off and quit wasting my time!
Indeed, Ive cooperated as much as Im going to. The chances of a city detective solving this mystery are slim to none. Finding Paley all depends on finding out exactly what that game really is.
I am about to take my leave when there is a commotion inside the precinct house. Howitzer who moves amazingly fast for such a big man beats me to the office door. There, in the middle of the main room, is a naked man. Police officers and civilians alike are running from him and diving behind desks for cover.
Oh, did I mention that hes naked except for the bombs strapped to his body?
Telekinesis is a basically useless power, made for parlor tricks and pranks. At times, however, it does come in handy, especially when youve been practicing creating high pressure bubbles. Naked Bomber Man doesnt know it yet, but Ive already built a bubble around him. If I can create and contain deep-sea pressures, then I should be able to contain his blast. That will keep him from hurting anyone but himself. Now I need to figure out how to stop him from hurting himself.
I have demands! Naked Bomber Man (NBM) shouts.
He looks almost comical to me, all scrawny gooseflesh with that Ive-got-the-upper-hand attitude.
First off I want the War Walls down!
You and me both, brother.
Second I want one million dNo! Make that ten million dollars!
Now hes sounding more evil.
And I want pizza! And a helicopter!
Hes watched too many movies.
The police are going into hostage crisis mode, except this time they are the hostages. I hear one of them under his desk issuing a call out on a police scanner.
NBM holds his thumb on a simple hand-held plunger device; similar to the controllers youd see on a slot-car race set. It is connected to the explosives simply by a wire. Said thumb is probably feeling a bit twitchy also. Its about to feel a lot more than twitchy. He made the mistake of wiring his detonator so that he has to push the plunger down as opposed to releasing it to set off the bombs. Bad mistake. Im going to telekinetically bend his thumb backward probably break it. I just have to be careful. If he feels my TK pulling at him or if he drops the plunger and it activates by accident
Then suddenly a whirlwind seems to blow through the precinct house and NBM is standing there without the bombs strapped to him, his detonator dangling impotently in his hand.
The police are amazed. But then again, they are easily impressed by certain displays of power. You can use super-strength to rip up a piece of the street to throw at a fleeing mugger and the cops think youre just the bees knees, no matter that you created a pothole big enough for the SWAT truck to disappear into. Or freeze an entire city block, breaking water lines and killing trees, just to discourage the Council from preaching on the street corner, its Hey! Wow! Good job! Here you can have a PCPD honorary gold badge! But stop a bank robbery or rescue a hostage with just psi powers? What was that name again? Is your brain registered as a weapon, because if its not Im going to have to write you up a citation.
Anyway, I digress.
As I say, the police are amazed. They and I know a display of super speed when we see it. I figure its Impact Wave (I wonder if shes dating anyone
) or maybe Speed Date (who is dating everyone) but no, its
Speeeed Taps the name, he says, and thats with three no, four! es in speed.
He looks bloody ridiculous. Hes in orange and green spandex with big fake-looking pads creating big fake-looking muscles. He has a mask with lightning bolts for ears. Worst of all, he has a cape! What super-speedster would even consider wearing a cape!?
NBM is booked and taken to the holding cells. Sp-e-e-e-e-d Tap is surrounded by groupie policemen, glad-handing him and patting him on the back, Frank Howitzer among them. Im about to leave them to their latest superstar when I do a double-take. Something about him
Despite the fact that he is wearing a mask, I can still see his eyes and I know them.
Paley? I think it; I dont say it.
As if he can read my mind he looks up at me and grins. Then he blurs and runs out the door, leaving behind his startled sycophants. Oh, and as he leaves he runs past me and sweeps my legs out from under me.
Frank sees this and says to me, Are you high, kid? Do I need to run you in for a drug test?
Im up and heading for the door as fast as I can. Ill whiz in your cup later, detective, I say as I go.
I know that was Paley in that mask! I just need to figure out what the bloody hell hes up to.
Why didnt you think of this?
Julias right. I should have. Instead of getting her and Paley involved, I should have simply googled Adam Scott. I would have found out that he was alive and well and living in Greenwich Village.
Shes a bit miffed at me because Paley hasnt turned up yet. Ive been telling her that Id take care of it, that Id seen Paley in guise of S-p-e-e-e-e-d Tap, but he hasnt turned up since. So when she called me and told me she had important information for me, I came straight home to the Rock to see what she had.
He has a website. An email address too.
She says this without a hint of snarkiness. Shes mad at me, but her primary concern is getting Paley back in one piece. Finding out the true nature of that software will go far in doing so.
Julia, I leave this to you. Youre a better detective than I am. Thats not a lie, I think. The more I get to know her, the more I respect her intelligence and diligence.
And youre going out looking for Speed Tap?
Yes. Though in a city of heroes, finding a particular one is like looking for that proverbial needle.
Luck, she says.
You too, say I.
Twenty minutes later, Im at the bank in Steel Canyon.
I use a combo of psi-powers and reflective stealth suit to make myself undetectable and wait for the safe to be opened. When it is, I go inside. I find the box from which I got the game disk and use TK to unlock it to look inside. Its still empty, so I close it back up and put it back into its place. I go from there to the branch managers office where a record is kept of every time someone accesses a safe-deposit box. I have repeated this process every day since Paley disappeared. The records only show a Mr. Smith having accessed the box and that was days before the Freakshow raid. Of course, everyone knows that Smith is an alias.
Im just about to leave when I hear the branch manager coming my way saying, Ah! There you are, Mr. Smith!
I spin around, at first because I think Im the Mr. Smith being addressed. Quickly, I realize the branch manager is speaking to the owner of the lockbox! I put everything back in its place as fast as I can and shrink back into the corner to see this Smith fellow.
My eyeballs almost fall out when I see him.
Hes about thirtyish. Tall, handsome, if you dont mind me saying. Brown eyes. White hair.
Holy effin shaz! Hes older me!
dun dun duuun! ....keep going with this! i love it!
The climax almost makes me pass out. At the end of it, I sort of go limp, my heart racing and my lungs straining for air.
I woke up in a seedy motel room in a tourist-trap town called Myrtle Beach with a former Night-Widow-turned-gangsters-wife named Angelina Marcone. Were all alone and I am desperately trying to keep her happy.
Oh god, youre good.
Angelinas compliments do not mean much to me, but I have to admit, I was good. Which helps with my goal of keeping her happy.
Though it would have been better if you had put more emotion into it.
I sigh in response. Still gasping for air, I cant talk yet, but if I could, Id tell her it would be easier to get into it if she hadnt forced me to perform by holding a .45 to my head.
Your father was good, but youre better.
That kind of hurts. I have yet to meet the man, and all she does is compare me to him.
Hell be here tomorrow, you know. Hes a smart one. I knew hed figure out where we were after I took you.
I knew it! I knew she was using me to set him up!
She touches my face again I hate when she does that and tousles my hair like I was a little boy.
I want you to do it again.
Oh god I barely made it through the first time
But try harder this time. More oomph.
I tell her, I could oomph more if you would untie me.
I like you in the position youre in, is her reply.
But this is so restrictive. Wouldnt you like to see what I can really do when Im standing up, putting everything I have into it?
Ooooo... Youve talked me into it.
She unties me and says, Remember I dont have to use ropes to restrain you.
Understood. All right, and I hope youre satisfied after this. Im not sure Ill be able to do any more tonight.
Youd better make it really good then.
I sigh, then take a deep cleansing breath and begin
Che gelida manina! se la lasci riscaldar.
Cercar che giova? al buio non si trova
I make it through Che Gelida Manina from La Boheme out of breath, but flawlessly. Im hardly a Pavarotti, but for an amateur, Im excellent!
Im just glad she didnt request Verdi I dont know any Verdi.