Business Unfinished is a story set in my Champions world. The characters have been with me for a long time. Most of the characters have dual identities. The general tone is such as you would find in modern comic book. There is some language that deviates from that. There are scenes with sexual overtones.
Questions are more than welcome. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.
Warren - Tuesday 10:53 A.M. New York
He stood, looking out the window towards the runway, waiting for the flight from Miami. He checked the time on his wristwatch, again. Not late. Never late. Maybe a bit too early, even for him. He put his hand back into the pocket of his navy blue windbreaker, his fingers wrapped around the comfortable weight of his cell phone. Remembering...
"Leah is coming in. She wants you to meet her," Kate said.
"Why me?” He smiled, looking deep into his wife's blue eyes and feeling the sense of wonder again. Why me? Feeling lost and yet finally, totally complete, in the love reflected in her eyes.
"Why you? Because you fell mindlessly, helplessly, totally in love with her best friend.” She moved closer to him, taking his hand in her own. She reached up and she brushed a lock of brown hair back. Standing up on her toes, she kissed him. "And because I told her you would.” She looked down at the roundness of her stomach as she settled back on her feet and laughed lightly. "You know, I never really felt short, but I swear, Warren, the bigger this baby gets the harder it seems I have to try to kiss you."
"I love you, Kate," he whispered, bending forward to kiss her again.
"What about Kris?" she asked as old fears reared their head.
Mom warned me about this. "Kris is a friend, Kate. Yours as well as mine. She's a friend. A sister. Anything more I wanted or hoped for with her ended when I found you. I love you."
"But I'm fat!"
Laughing, he picked her up gently in his arms. "You aren't fat! You're pregnant and we're going to be parents."
She held tightly to him. "You need to go. Her plane is due to land in about 3 hours. You should change."
He carried her from the kitchen, and set her gently in the recliner. "Mom said she'd come sit with you, if you'd like. Give a call up to the house.” He kissed her again and stood. "See you soon."
...now...
"Warren!"
He turned toward the sound of his name. Gray eyes searched through the people coming down the causeway. He saw her hand waving over the crowd. His eyes took in her full brown hair hanging down her back to her waist. Leah laughed as she threw herself into him, hugging him.
"Well, Farm Boy, you look like you're keeping in shape! How's my sister? I mean besides knocked up. You look like you've been spending time out in the fields. Or is that windburn?"
Sisters...
"I do keep in shape. Your sister keeps me running. What was I thinking? A poor farm boy like me marrying a spoiled city girl. She's fine. Doc says the baby is coming along just fine.” Breaking away, he checked her out. "You look... white."
White pumps added three inches to her height. She wore white slacks, with a white jacket over a pale blue silk blouse. The sleeves pulled up to her elbows. A loose silver and black bracelet adorned her right wrist.
"White is cooler in the tropical sun."
"Tan lines?" he asked, playfully leering at her, falling into old patterns of their friendship like slipping into a comfortable pair of shoes.
"Wouldn't you like to know?” Leah laughed at the joke.
"No," he responded seriously, "not really.” Noting the lack of even a simple carry on, Warren frowned. "No luggage?" he asked.
"I had to leave in a hurry. Just me."
Jason, Ashleigh and Marlene - Tuesday 9:24 A.M. California
"...So the meeting with the board went about as well as expected. They aren't exactly happy, but with my knowledge of the inner workings, since your father depended on me so much and with your endorsement, they'll come around. Hopefully before too much damage is done. They just aren't happy with a ‘jumped up secretary’ being put in a position of real authority. Are you sure this is the best way?"
Her high heels thumped on the floor. Marlene stretched her legs onto the coffee table and crossed her ankles. Her black skirt showed off her well-toned calves. She reached up and took the glass her companion offered, ice clinking in the amber fluid. Her green silk blouse contrasted her strawberry blonde hair.
"For the company, Marlene? I don't know. For me? I was never comfortable..."
Cutting him off, she raised her voice above his. "You are never comfortable. Not here. Not doing whatever it is you do when you aren't here! Not with your friends!” Not with me... Old arguments left unspoken.
"Marlene," turning his back to her, he said, "it isn't that simple. Too many things are pulling me in too many different directions. I need..."
The office door slammed open with a bang.
"...You can't go in there!"
Five feet five inches of anger turned on the secretary and silenced her with a glare. The secretary looked to her superior trying to find a way to explain.
"It's okay, Jessica. Miss Parks has been kept waiting too long."
"You got that right, Jason Scott! Dammit..."
Jason waved her to silence. "Jessica, have maintenance check the door after I'm gone.” The sound of the doorknob bouncing off the floor punctuated the statement. "And have the knob replaced, please."
"Yes, sir," said Jessica, quietly closing the door.
"What do you want, Ash? What answer do you want that you think I can better give you in person that hasn't already been passed though Theresa or Mentor?"
A flash of anger smoldered in his eyes. Ashleigh tried to calm herself before she started in.
Gently, Ash, Marlene thought to herself.
Voice straining to remain calm, she answered. "Jason, we've got a job coming up. It's important. We need you."
"Ash, I don't play the game anymore.” With a sigh, Jason sat his glass on his desk. Condensation rolled down the side of it to make a ring around its base.
"’Game’? It isn't a game, Jason! People's lives are in danger!” Heat touched her voice. Her sapphire eyes flashed dangerously. Anger at being kept waiting. Anger at having to make the trip. He had to understand! He had to see!
Turning away, he looked out the window. Sunlight played through the leaves of the trees. "People's lives are always in danger, Ash. Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. When does it change?” His head hanging, he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. His palm pressed flat against the coolness of the window. "When do I get to stop worrying about everyone else and get to worry about me?"
She crossed the room to stand closer to her friend. "Jason...” Ashleigh started. She reached up, not quite touching him. She was unsure how to cross the gulf between them. "Jason, we need your help. Things are going to be ugly out there when this mess starts. Leah..."
"No!” His voice cracked like thunder through the office.
Neither of them noticed the opening or the closing of the door.
Warren and Leah - Tuesday 12:32 P.M. New York
Raindrops formed rivulets running across the car's window as she looked out. Too many times, too many turning points in her life were punctuated by gray clouds and rain. Will the sun ever shine for me again? She wondered.
"Warren?"
"Yeah?"
Nervous, not quite sure she wanted the answers to the questions, but needing them. "How is he?"
He glanced at her, her face still turned towards the door. "I don't know. We haven't talked lately. Honestly, Leah, the only one he talks with much is Theresa. You know how the situation with her started. I don't think she'd tell anyone about what they talk about. She doesn't offer. I guess we don't ask, either."
"Will he be there? When we get there, I mean."
"Don't know. I hope so. We told him when. Every time we sent a message we got a reply through Theresa or Mentor. Same response. 'No.' Ash decided she'd give it one last try," he said, chuckling lightly.
Leah turned to look at him with a smile. "You laugh a lot more now."
"What are you talking about? I always laughed before."
Leah laughed with him. “No, you didn't. You always made sure everyone else laughed. You and Jason always quoting 'relevant' lines from movies! Or irrelevant ones!"
"Hey! They were always relevant to us. It wasn't our fault nobody else got it.” Glancing out his door window, raindrops seeming to fall in slow motion to his eyes, noticing... "Oh, crap."
Startled, Leah looked. "What?"
"Convenience store. Armed robbery. Young male. Looked like a .38."
"Do you want me...?”
Warren cut her off. "Take the wheel for a few seconds. Thirsty?"
A navy blue streak launched from the car. The driver's door slammed shut from the onrushing wind. Leah placed her hand on the steering wheel.
...Responsibility...
Raindrops suspended between moments. Warren moved.
Three seconds passed before he made it to the door of the store. Gently. The door swung open, not slamming, the glass not shattering. The cashier, Jimmy by the name tag on his vest, was holding a paper bag over the counter towards the perpetrator.
Four seconds. The perpetrator, blond, unshaven, details, black hooded sweatshirt, red baseball cap turned backwards, was taking hold of the bag.
Five seconds. Smoke spewed from the barrel of the gun. The bullet moved little faster than the raindrops to Warren. Gently. A blow sent the kid sprawling. Reaching out, Warren grabbed the casing spinning through the air and the bullet in one golden-gloved hand, too swift for Jimmy to see.
Six seconds. Warren moved towards the culprit and stopped his slide. A zip tie bound the boy's wrists behind his back.
Seven seconds. Warren opened one of the cooler doors and extracted two soda bottles. Cola. More glass unbroken.
Eight seconds. Warren picked up the paper bag and slowed enough for Jimmy to get a look at him. Blue cowl covered the upper part of his face. A blue bodysuit with golden lightning trim covered his torso. The paper bag, revolver, and two cola bottles appeared on the counter between them.
Nine seconds. Warren reached over the counter for a paper bag, dropping in the gun and the two soda bottles. A five-dollar bill appeared on the counter.
Ten seconds. The door opened. No glass shattered in his wake as he raced back to the car.
Jimmy picked up the bag of money and the five-dollar bill. Beneath the bill lay a small navy blue card. A golden lightning bolt, lightly glowing, bisected the card from corner to corner. Setting the bag of money back on the counter, Jimmy rang up the sale of two sodas and waited for the police.
"Wow. Twenty seconds. Slowing down, Farm Boy.” Leah smiled at him as he passed her a bottle and resumed control of the car.
"I dropped the gun with the patrol car heading to the scene. Leah, what happened to your ring?"
She looked to her hand and back to Warren somewhat abashed. "It broke."
"Have the stone reset. What's the big deal?"
Her voice caught as she spoke. "It was the stone that broke."
Shock registered on his face. "Leah, those stones don't break!"
"I know,” she whispered, her tears falling like the rain.
Ashleigh and Marlene - Tuesday 10:04 A.M. California
A light knock upon her office door broke Marlene from her musings as she stared out over the Scott Enterprises Silicon Valley campus. Sunlight reflected brightly off glass and chrome. She turned away from the view to the darkened interior of her well-appointed office. Bookshelves stood empty, waiting for her to place her things upon them. For her to finally lay full claim to the office that was her predecessor's. She sat, allowing the chair to accept her weight, and turned her attention to the computer monitor in her desk. The flip of a switch near to hand brought the lights up. The touch of another released the office door, allowing Ash to enter. Marlene turned her full attention to her guest. Ashleigh’s long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Small, plain gold hoop earrings pierced each ear.
Smiling at her friend, Ash opened, "So, he let you have the big office and the chair to go with it.” Ash sat in the chair that Marlene used to use so often when working with her employer. The light from the ceiling reflected in the lenses of the sunglasses resting on her head.
"Yeah, Ash, and all the headaches, paperwork, and b.s. that goes with them.” She smiled back. "It feels different sitting on this side of the desk."
Looking around at the bare paneled walls and noting the empty shelves, she asked, "When do you finish moving in?"
"I'm in. There's a portrait of Charles and Stacy that will go up there." She pointed at the empty space on the wall across from her desk. "Doesn't seem right, not having the old man keeping an eye on me all the time. There's some things sitting in a box from my old desk, but I've got so much more room now. I don't have all of Charles's technical manuals, since the science end of things wasn't part of my job description, but I'll find something to put on the shelves"
"I think he'd approve you sitting in his chair, Marlene. If it hadn't been for you and your more-than-able assistance, he'd have been where you are and he wouldn't have had as much time, if any, to spend with his playmates over in R&D."
"He did like his time over there. The board..."
Ashleigh raised her hand and cut Marlene off. "The board wants a Scott sitting in the big chair. There has always been a Scott at the helm since the company was founded. Times change."
"Jason is the last of his family," Marlene said, quietly.
"No, Marlene. Charles may have been the last blood relation that Jason had on this planet, but he's got a family. This brings me to why I’m here. How long has he been like that?"
"What? Dark. Brooding.” Lost... "I've known him longer than you, Ash. I can't say that I know him better. I don't have the same type of bond you and the others have with him."
"Have you ever seen him like this before?'
"A couple of times. I met his mother at a party he gave in high school. That's about how long I've known him. Stacy, she insisted we call her 'Stacy', instead of 'Mrs. Scott.’ Stacy was a warm, lovely woman so full of life. She had a rich, warm laugh. Always willing to listen. Never judgmental. She always had good advice. Two months after I met her she was killed in a car accident. He became moody, depressive. I think the only thing that saved him then was Sandy."
"Sandy Wilson?"
"Yes. Ancient history for you?'
"I know about Sandy. I know what happened. That was the year before we all got together."
Marlene took a deep breath, "Sandy never gave up. Never let him give up. His grades slipped and she pushed him. All the time they were together, they never fought. Oh, they'd have arguments, differences of opinion, but they never fought.
"Spoiled rich boy going to public school. The rumors that flew around the school about that. This teacher or that teacher that supposedly seduced him, trying to get close to the family fortune. The snobby girls that thought they were so much better than the rest of us made plays for him. He never laughed at any of them. He never mocked them. He just walked away from them. We had the hardest time trying to understand him. I think Sandy understood him first. He wanted to be accepted for what he was, instead of for what he had.
"There were a lot of surprised kids. Sandy was shy. Her family wasn't well off. Her dad had lost his job. Her mom worked as a waitress, trying to make ends meet. They met when Jason was having problems with advanced math and accounting classes. Sandy agreed to tutor him. Hard to point to when the 'tutoring' stopped and the dating started."
Marlene rocked back in her chair, her gaze directed to a place in another time. "There was a summer party we'd been invited to. Looking back, you'd really have to wonder how some of these people ever became friends together. Somewhere, somehow, during the party Jason and Sandy were separated. From what I understand, he'd gotten involved in a game of pool in the basement. She was talking with some friends. I don't know how it happened; don't think any of us are really sure what happened.
"Have you ever seen Jason angry?” Marlene asked. When Ashleigh nodded she continued, "My father used to get angry. He'd bellow and storm and rage until his anger gave out. I've seen kids get so angry that they have to hit something. Jason being angry scares me. People that become calmer and more focused the angrier they get? I'm not really sure how to deal with it."
Ash showed Marlene a wry grin. "Sharon's training. With the things that he's capable of, self-control is necessary. She trained him so that he wouldn't kill someone accidentally."
"At the party, Sandy ended up upstairs in one of the bedrooms with a guy, Arthur Rocco, and his gang. Jason ran up out of the basement and upstairs. Nobody had any idea what was going on upstairs, but somehow Jason knew that Sandy was in trouble. I remember hearing a door slam. There was yelling from upstairs, the crash of glass and what I can only assume was the sound of bodies hitting the floor. Mr. Stevens, it was his house, went upstairs first. They found Jason standing over Rocco and his gang. Sandy was sitting on the bed crying.
"So, I guess you can say that I've seen him like he is now before. His mom, when Sandy died, when Leah left, and now.” Marlene, fingers playing with the chain about her neck, took the pendant from her blouse. Looking at a stone set amid the gold, looking so much like a black star sapphire. The star itself seemed to glow red. "Sandy was the first person he ever gave one of these to."
Ash leaned forward, elbows on the black denim covering her knees, fingertips pressed together, and spoke, "Sandy was the second. His mom was the first."
"Do you have any idea how he makes them?"
Ash's pendant fell from the collar of her white polo shirt. "Blood and power. That's all he ever told anyone."
Looking to Ashleigh, Marlene asked, "What's going to happen, now? With Jason, I mean."
"I don't know, Marlene. You wind a spring too tight and it'll break. With as tight as Jason is wound right now, I feel really sorry for the next person that picks a fight with him."
Jason - Tuesday 10:10 A.M. California
Jason still stood gazing out the window where Ash had left him. Jessica’s voice came quietly from the intercom. “Sir, you wanted me to remind you of your appointment. Your plane is waiting at the airport.”
Pulled from his musings, Jason turned and pressed a button on the intercom. “Thank you, Jessica. I’ll be departing momentarily. Let Miss Palmer know once I’ve gone and inform the pilot that his services won’t be needed. I’ll fly myself. Have someone in New York have my car waiting when I land.” The press of another button silenced the intercom abruptly.
Retrieving his suit coat from the back of his chair, Jason noticed the imprint of the door in the plaster of the wall behind it and shook his head. Ash… His suit coat settled on his broad shoulders, he reached for the doorknob and found the door jammed. Ash... A sharp tug brought the knob loose in his hand.
“Sir,” Jessica’s voice was muffled by the door, “are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Jessica. The door is a little jammed. Don’t stand too close to it. I’ll have it opened in a moment.” Jason’s fingers slipped into the hole around the inner workings and he pulled. The door creaked and the bolt snapped under the pressure exerted on it. Finally, the door hung open, somewhat askew from the bent hinges.
“I’ll have the door repaired, sir. First thing.”
“Also tell maintenance that there’s a bit of plaster work behind the door, Jessica. Once you’re done with all that go ahead and take the rest of the week off. With pay. I don’t expect to be back before Monday and I don’t expect my personal assistant sitting here behind her desk not doing anything constructive with her time.” He gathered up his briefcase and started to turn away. “Enjoy your weekend, Jessica.”
Looking a bit like a deer in the headlights, Jessica responded, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Ah, sir? The New York office said that Mr. Asher came into town unexpectedly and signed out the Lamborghini. Everything was per your standing orders.”
“Thank you, Jessica. I’ll take care of the car situation.”
Lost in thought, Jason turned away and headed for the elevator. Once in the elevator, he pressed the button for the roof and the helicopter pad. On the roof, Jason traversed the distance to the idling Bell 230.
"Mr. Scott! Your plane is ready and waiting. Roan called in and bitched. Something about being pulled out of the seat. She's hot, sir. Just thought you'd like to know." Charlie Walker, a former Army pilot, retired, was the chief executive pilot for Scott Enterprises.
"Thanks, Charlie. Is there a woman in my life that isn't angry right now?" Jason and Charlie climbed aboard the 230.
"I don't know about that, sir, but Roan has been looking forward to actually being able to fly the priority bird. She just about threw a party when her number came up for this flight. To be honest with you, sir, I wouldn't exactly be happy in that situation, either." The rotor slowly built up to speed and Jason and Charlie put on headsets and keyed into the helicopter's systems. "She's a good pilot, sir, and I think you pulling her ticket on this flight might be bad for employee morale, if you catch my meaning."
"Charlie," Jason began, "were you always this circumspect with my father?"
"No, sir, sir. With your father, I'd just tell him he made a shit decision and call him on it."
"Thanks, Charlie. I really appreciate your candor." Jason keyed into the external communication system. "Scott Air, this is SE-Alpha-1."
"SE-Alpha-1, this is Scott Air. What can I do for you, sir?"
"Air, you've got Priority One ready and waiting without pilot. Give Ms. Shepperly her flight status for P-1. Tell her it was a miscommunication."
"Yes, sir. Anything further, sir?"
"That'll be all, Air. Thank you." Jason keyed back to internal communications and spoke, somewhat exasperated, “You ever been a passenger in someone else's bird, Charlie?"
"Yes, sir. That's some boring shit, sir."
Warren and Leah – Tuesday 2:29 P.M. New York
The silver Lamborghini sat nestled into its space between Dani’s red Miata and Theresa’s green Mustang Fastback, in the vault that was the extremely private parking area of the building known simply as Guardian’s Tower.
“I’d get your bags for you,” Warren quipped, “if you had any.” Leah barely smiled at the joke.
“Doesn’t look like much has changed.” Leah spoke quietly.
“Not much. Down here, anyways. We did give Theresa your parking space.”
Leah’s smile grew a bit wider. “I never drove here, silly.”
“Just because you didn’t drive here, didn’t mean that there wasn’t a parking space for you.” They approached the Guardian’s private elevator. “Do you want to talk about what happened? With the ring?”
“No,” Leah sighed, “not just yet. So much happened then. I’m not really sure how to talk about it, and I’m not sure how much of it is actually necessary to talk about.”
Light scanned both their faces. “Warren Asher. Codename: Lightning. Leah Capwell. Codename: Sparx. A pleasure to see you again, Ms. Capwell.” A computerized voice came from a speaker set into the control panel. The car began its ascent with barely perceptible movement.
“Hello, Mentor. When did you become so formal with friends?”
“You’ve been gone, ma’am. Things change. I was not entirely sure of the current situation and decided to err on the side of formality. I meant no offense.”
“None taken, Mentor. As far as I’m concerned, whatever else happened, we’re still friends.”
“As you say, Leah.”
“Mentor,” Warren broke in, “who is currently upstairs?”
“Currently in residence are Theresa, Dani, and Warstar. Mr. Michaels assured that he would be available for the meeting and expressed great interest in seeing Leah again. Sharon and Dr. Tyler both indicated that they would be present for the meeting. I understand that Dr. Tyler won’t be accompanying the front team, but will be leading the medical team.”
“Sharon?” Leah asked, trying to mask the disappointment and trepidation she felt that Jason was not here.
“Sharon Anderson. Jason’s one-time sensei. Dani’s mom.” Warren answered.
“Huntress.”
“That be her. Is it a problem?” Warren asked.
“No. My contact with her was always uniform only. I wasn’t really interested in what she had to teach. I figured she’d be retired by now.”
“Considering what she has done and what she still can do, she’d still be active, but has ‘chosen’ to step aside for us young’uns. She’s there if we need her, but she’s looking to see what else there is. As young as she looks, she’s done this a lot longer than us and she’s lost more friends than we have. Charles was just the latest.”
“I couldn’t find out much about it. How did Charles die?”
Warren gave her a sad look. “An agent of Warmonger managed to get through security at a press conference.”
The car stopped and the doors opened quietly to a carpeted hallway.
“Hungry?”
“A little, Warren. I could use a sandwich or something.”
Warren led Leah down the hallway to the kitchen area. A large table with many chairs around it occupied the dining area. The kitchen was well appointed with a large refrigerator, microwave, and other necessary appliances.
“Have a seat, Leah. What would you like?” Warren moved behind the appliances.
“Is a club sandwich possible?”
“Sure, Pretty Lady. Give me a minute.” Warren moved. An impression of the fridge opening, closing, and sounds that were not quite definable came from the cooking area. “Do you want chips?”
“Potato chips. Baked, please,” Leah responded.
“Us, too, Warren!” The speaker was a short blonde whose smile reached her green eyes. “Hi, Leah!” Dani charged and Leah barely made it to her feet before being hugged.
Leah looked at Dani’s companion. Theresa Gardner was taller than Dani, but only by an inch or two. Her red hair was hanging past her shoulders. Her clothing, while similar in style, darkly contrasted Leah’s own look. Black silk in place of pale blue and no jacket. Black slacks and shoes in place of white. Theresa’s pendant hung loose and in the open outside of her blouse. The look she gave Leah was cold.
“Hi, Theresa. How have you been?”
Theresa gave a slight nod in acknowledgment of having been addressed. “Leah. Warren, how’s Kate doing? Sour cream and cheddar chips for me, please and thank you.”
“Sure thing, Trese. Kate is fine. Round, but fine. Only another couple of months.”
Leah, looking to Dani, started to ask, “Did Jason…”
Theresa’s head snapped to face Leah. She spoke very abruptly. “Won’t be here. He doesn’t want to see you!”
“Theresa!” Warren barked in warning.
“What, Warren? Everybody is so upset that Jason doesn’t want to be here with her here, but nobody gives a damn about why! This slut wasn’t even gone a week before she climbed into bed with someone else!”
“How?” Leah, shock on her face, moved away from Dani and closer to Theresa. “How do you know that?”
“Five days! Five goddamned days after you left your stone shattered about two in the morning!” Theresa was almost screaming at Leah before she turned and ran out of the kitchen. Tossing a look at Leah, Dani chased after her friend.
Tears streamed down her face, too ashamed to look at Warren. “How did she know?”
“You honestly don’t know, Leah? I thought with your relationship with him, he’d have told you.” His left hand rested on her shoulder and the fingers of his right hand brushed her tears away. She shook her head silently to give him his answer. “The stones. They’re a mixture of his power, his blood, and our blood, whoever has one. He will always know where we are. Any intense sensations we experience, any strong emotions we feel, and he feels a reflection of it.”
Leah looked up at Warren. “What are you saying, Warren? That anything we feel, he feels? Is that what you’re telling me?”
He looked into her eyes; red from the tears she had shed that day. “He felt his mom die. Sandy, in a very real sense, saved him. Thinking things through before, I always thought that the four of us coming together, once I had an idea of what had happened, had the same general effect on him when Sandy died. Now, I don’t know. I think I was wrong.
“Theresa knows, I guess, because Jason talked to her. He needed to open himself up to someone. She was more than willing to be there for him.”
Leah drew away and collapsed into a chair, her head down, and her face hidden by her hair. “What did I do, Warren? To him? To us?”
Resisting the urge to comfort her again, Warren resumed making lunch. “You made a decision, Leah. He reacted to it the only way that he knew how.”
Her sandwich and chips appeared on a plate beside her on the table. Wiping her face with a napkin, she picked up a chip and started nibbling at it. “What did he do after I left?”
Warren set three more plates with sandwiches on the table and took a seat across from Leah. He looked her in the face and gauged in his mind the choices and possible answers to her question. “Well, not knowing everything and not knowing how he’ll react to me answering that question if he finds out, do you want the Cliffs Notes version or essay-like answers?” Picking up his own sandwich, he took a bite.
Noting the seriousness in his voice, she looked back into the eyes of the man her best friend had married. She reflected on the cost that the decision she made to leave had incurred. “Did he date?”
Warren gave her a half smile, “That isn’t the question you want answered. He got angry, Leah. We had a run in with some of the Blood Guard. Jase damned near killed Black Jack, Bolt, and Moray. Ash had to stop him. Kris tried. That was when she decided that focusing on finishing school was a priority.” Warren took another bite.
Leah picked up her sandwich and studied it. “He got like that?”
“Leah, we got hold of Darque’s notes on the community. He pretty much pegged Jason. ‘Of all the Guardians, he is the one most prone to using violence.’ Can’t really say that’s changed much. That is one of the main reasons he removed himself from the situation. There’s a lot of conflict that has been avoided because he isn’t here.”
“Brad?”
“Yeah. Not sure what the problem is between them, but I’ve seen matches and gasoline get along better. As for Jase, did you see the report on the nuclear missile accident that happened last summer out at the test range?”
Leah, chewing on her sandwich, nodded.
“It wasn’t an accident. We baited Warmonger after Charles was killed, and he took it. There were twelve of us there and we almost lost. We did manage to put him down. Kris tried to call in support, but all emergency channels were jammed. We assumed it was something Warmonger had done.” Warren picked up a chip and moved the others around his plate with it. “It was Jason. He co-opted a medium range tactical. Warmonger was ground zero.”
“You did say he was responsible for Charles. I can’t say I blame him. Drastic situations requiring drastic measures and all that.”
Chewing slowly, Warren gazed upon Leah, locking her eyes with his. He swallowed. “Had all of us been in on the decision, it would have been one thing. We’ve always worked that way when it came to these types of decisions. You know that.” Leah nodded in agreement. “Do you honestly think Ash or Kris would have voted ‘yes’ for such a final option? It wasn’t a ‘we’ thing, Leah. Jason made the decision and all the arrangements for that strike. We didn’t find out until after we made a recon sweep of the area that all personnel had been pulled out that morning. Not even a skeleton crew. The whole base had been evacuated. Jason wrote off an entire SE research facility to take out Warmonger. Permanently.”
Full realization of the implications struck Leah. “Oh.” Leah was not quite sure how to continue with the conversation, so she turned her attention to her plate. “So, did he date?” she added with a nervous giggle.
Warren smiled at Leah. “Yeah. He’s dated. He did the ‘worthless playboy’ routine for a while. He went out with Angelique for quite a while…”
“Angelique!” Leah interjected. “That bitch?”
Jason – Tuesday 11:45 A.M.
“I said I was sorry!”
“Dammit, Jason! ‘Sorry’ was when you canceled dinner on me last month! ‘Sorry’ was when you couldn’t take me to that reception because you had to take that stupid, lousy, blonde actress because it would ‘be good for the corporate image’! ‘Sorry’ doesn’t even come close to this! I’m a pilot! And I’m a damned good one! You had no right to pull me out of this seat!” Roan glared at Jason, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat.
“Actually, Roan, as the owner of this plane and being fully qualified to fly it, I have every right to bump you if I so choose to do so. I had no idea who the pilot was to be! You just got your qualification rider for this plane! I haven’t been avoiding you and I wasn’t attempting to. I just have a lot on my mind and didn’t want any company.” His jacket and vest lying with his briefcase in the passenger cabin, Jason sat absentmindedly rolling up his shirt sleeves. His collar was unbuttoned. He stared out at the sky and clouds.
Roan’s red hair was held back at her neck. Her green eyes flashed as she looked back at the controls. “This is going to be a long flight,” she muttered to herself.
“Not really,” Jason replied.
“Our ETA to SE Long Island is a little over ten hours, sir! That puts your ass on the ground around one o’clock A. M. local.” Her eyes danced over the controls, checking dials. “Unless, sir, you have some magical way of getting us there faster!”
“Wait and see, Roan, and fly.” Throwing a switch to communicate with the ground Jason spoke, “Scott Air, this is SE-Alpha-1.”
“One, this is Air. Go ahead.” A voice crackled through the speakers.
“Air, do we have clearance to accelerate?” Jason asked.
“Affirmative One. FAA wants you high and clear before you go for burn.”
“There you go, Roan. Clearance to fly faster. Get all necessary information from Air and do what the nice people at the FAA want us to do to get us to New York faster.” He stood up.
“Just like that?” She looked at him, anger still flashing in her eyes. “Why wasn’t I informed we’ll be taking her up?”
“You should have been. Take it up with Air. I have an appointment around ten, New York local. I don’t want to be late.
“Now, I’ll be back where the passengers sit while the pilot does her job.”
“Yes, sir!” Asshole, she added silently to herself. She spoke quietly into the mike, communicating with Air.
Sitting back in the cabin, Jason flipped through the various movie options and slipped a disc into the player. The cabin lights lowered as the screen came to life.
“Jason,” Roan’s voice came through the speaker, “we’ve got full clearance. Revised ETA puts us at SELI around seven this evening, eastern. Climbing now.”
“Thanks, Roan.” Jason settled back to enjoy the movie. Robert Downey, Jr. ran helter skelter through a firefight in a desert. You’ve got it easy, Tony, Jason thought to himself.
Dani and Theresa – Tuesday 2:50 P. M.
“Want to talk about it?”
Theresa was sitting on her bed. Her arms were wrapped around a pillow. She had kicked off her shoes. One was lying in the middle of the floor. The other, somehow, managed to be hanging by the heel off the lampshade next to her reading chair.
“Why do you like her?”
“Why do you hate her?” Dani asked Theresa gently. “Trese, Leah isn’t the bad guy. Yes, she hurt Jason. Hell, girl! Jason hurt Jason a lot, too.” Theresa glared at Dani, standing in the doorway to her bedroom. “I know how you feel about him, but he isn’t as perfect as you seem to think sometimes. If he was, do you think Ash would be in Cali trying to talk sense into him?”
“She hurt him and there was no reason for it. It was only five days after she left!”
“And you would never do anything like that to him. Ever. So you can’t understand why she made the decision that she made to leave. You have absolutely no reference beyond what, I’m assuming Jason told you, as to why she made the decision to sleep with that other guy, whoever he was. All you know is that it happened because Jason told you it did.”
“Obviously it did.”
Dani entered the room and closed the door. She sat on the bed, folding her leg under herself. Reaching down, she took hold of Theresa’s ankle and gave it a gentle shake.
“Not like you gave her a lot of room for a denial and running off like you did, you didn’t give her any chance to explain. Assuming that any of it is any of our business in the first place, and that she’ll share with any of us, in the second. She’ll talk to Warren. Given the chance, she’ll head out to Nebraska and visit Kate. Knowing Leah, she’s probably still kicking herself for missing the wedding.”
“She didn’t deserve him.” Theresa gave Dani a weak smile.
“Or he didn’t deserve her. All depends on how you look at things. Nobody except Leah knows why she left. Everyone thought things were good between them. I figured they’d have been married by now. Probably before Warren and Kate managed it. Now, Kate is expecting. Warren is happy. Leah has been who knows where, doing who knows what…”
“And Jason,” Theresa cut in, “has been cut off and alone and totally miserable!”
“Trese, Jason pulled away from us. Honestly, he’s probably feeling a bit guilty about what he did to Kris. He’s always been driven by guilt. He blamed himself when Sandy died. Somehow, it was all his fault that he couldn’t save her.” Dani brushed her long blonde hair behind her ear. “I’d have thought with all the talking you were doing with your ‘big brother’ you’d have learned some of that by now.”
Theresa looked to her friend and pulled the pillow closer, a wall between them. “The first time I saw him was in that bar. All those men around me, I thought I was dead. There he was, just standing calmly, holding out a hand for me to take. He took me away from them.”
“Cute.”
“What?” Theresa asked.
“I just thought it was funny that you left out the part that Leah was there, too, and that Leah was the one that walked you out of the bar before Jason beat the hell out of everyone in the place. In case you hadn’t noticed, but violence seems to be Jason’s way of expressing himself.”
“Physically,” Theresa said.
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you noticed? Jason gets physical. He uses what your mom taught him, rather than resort to powers.” Taking more interest in the conversation, Theresa lowered the pillow and put her legs in Dani’s lap. “You get him agitated or worked up and the first chance he gets he heads into the gym to work over the heavy bag.”
“So what is it about Leah you don’t like?” Dani prodded.
Theresa started to pull the pillow back up and seemed to realize what she was doing and looked at it. Then she gave Dani a sheepish look and set the pillow aside. “Everything he’s done for me and he won’t let me pay him back. He helped when I was in trouble. He helped get me away from my stepfather. I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for him.”
“Trese, we’re a team. He’s saved everyone here at one point or another. Everyone here has probably saved him once or twice. You’ve done a lot. If you hadn’t noticed, right now you are about the only person that he really talks to. He used to talk more with Warren about ‘guy things’ and he talked to me and Ash regularly about just about everything else. Now there’s just you.
“His dad did a lot to help you, too, you know. Took you in. Gave you a nice home. Let you finish school. Made you his ward. I understand his lawyers are still looking to finish up the adoption proceedings to make you his daughter. You owe as much, if not more, to Jason’s dad.
“Jason should have taken more from his mother. She was a lot more open with people.”
“I’m surprised that more people don’t know about him.” Theresa put her head back and rested it on the headboard.
“What do you mean?” Dani looked at Theresa quizzically.
“Being born realized. Can you imagine what that must have been like? Having your nursery lined with six-inch battleship plate? The only people you can’t hurt with your abilities are your parents?”
Dani shook Theresa’s leg again. “What? Instead of being like us and freaking out when puberty hit and we didn’t know what the hell was happening to us? Personally, I think I’d have rather grown up different, knowing exactly what I could do instead of burning down my grandfather’s barn the first time I was kissed.”
Theresa looked away from Dani. “I don’t like talking about the first time I manifested.”
“C’mon. Warren has finished making the sandwiches by now and I’m hungry.” Dani stood up holding her hand out for Theresa.
“Why do you put up with me?”
With a mischievous glint to her eye, Dani answered, “Because Jason buys me nice things when I send him my report of all the silly things you do.”
Theresa threw the pillow at her.
The Guardians – Tuesday 6:44 P. M.
Warren was dressed in his Lightning uniform. The cowl was pulled back and hanging at his neck. He checked the meeting table with the built in monitor bank and holotable to make sure everything was functioning properly for the upcoming meeting. Every monitor showed the face of Dan Thomas.
“Who are we expecting at this meeting, Lightning?” Dan, looking a bit like Bruce Willis, ran his hand across his short cut graying blond hair.
“In body, Huntress, Hellfire, Dove, Warstar, Nightwing, Psistorm, myself, Ash and Sparx. We’ll have a link up to Aegis. Probably Paladin on their end. Mentor will be making a record, as usual.”
Dan looked as if he were concentrating on something on his end. “What about Pulsar?”
Warren stopped to flip a switch at the workstation he was at. “Not at this time, Dan. He quit. Whether or not he’ll be back is strictly up to him at this point. We’ve tried. Pulsar isn’t interested.” He removed an access panel and checked several of the connections within. Lights flickered on the workstation panel.
“All right. What about reserves?”
“None at this time. White Tiger is in Hong Kong. Red Star and the Ghost are tracking down Wild Wind. Longbow is chasing after Bloodbath. Shadow Hunter is available, but for the usual fee.” He replaced the access panel and moved on.
“Let’s keep the mercs out of this if we can. Wildfire doesn’t pay the Guardian’s bills, but I’d like to keep things relatively simple. Has Sparx said anything to you?”
“Yes, Dan. She’s said quite a bit. Most of it personal. Whatever is relevant to this situation that she requested us for, she’ll bring up.”
“Sorry, Lightning. I’d just be a lot more comfortable with more information about this. She left the team and turns up not even a week later hanging around with Ulysses Madacar and his associates. I’d like to know why and I’d like to know why she thinks she can just call us up and expect us to jump. We’ve got our own people keeping an eye on Madacar’s operation, not to mention the FBI.”
Lightning stopped and looked at the nearest monitor. “She can call us up and expect us to jump because she’s a friend, Dan. Same as you. Like you pointed out, the Guardians are not the public face of Project Wildfire. She’s a friend and done nothing to violate our trust. We’ll help her. Same as we would help anyone else that asked.”
“I understand, Lightning. I just don’t like it.”
“That’s because your paranoia leads to your control issues, Dan.”
Dan’s faced showed something of a grin. “Yeah, Lightning, I know. I’m a product of my job training.”
“Hi, Dan!” Dani entered the meeting room. The overhead lights making it appear as if flames were moving across her bodysuit.
“Hi there, Princess. How are things going?” He smiled down from the monitor to his namesake.
“Not too bad. I’ve got a couple of auditions coming up in the next couple of weeks. One for the stage and a possible movie.” She took a seat at the table. “If I get it, I might actually be able to work with Hugh Jackman!”
“That would be something to see, Dani. I hope it all works out for you.” Dan said.
“I hope so, too!”
Theresa and Warstar entered into the meeting room. Warstar towered over Theresa. His high-gloss black and silver armor-like appearance reflected the light of the monitors as he took his seat. His red eyes took in his teammates and Dan Thomas.
Theresa, dressed as Psistorm, dark blue and red bodysuit, blue shooting glasses, and her black satin jacket with “Guardian” in yellow reflective letters on the back, took her seat next to Dani and checked the data feeds coming across her station. Dani reached across and gave Trese’s arm a gentle squeeze.
Dani’s face brightened. “Hi, mom!”
Sharon Anderson stepped into the room, high heels clicking across the floor as she walked. She looked more like her daughter’s sister than her mother. “Hi, Honey. Hi, Trese.” She gave Dani a kiss on the head and Theresa a gentle hug. “How are you doing?”
Theresa looked up at the dark glasses that covered Sharon’s unseeing eyes. “Okay, I guess. I just wish Jason were here.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Trese. Sometimes the universe has a strange sense of humor.” Straightening up, Sharon went to a chair by the wall, instead of sitting at the table.
The door swished open and Ashleigh and Leah came in together. Brad Michaels, dressed in the charcoal and black of his Nightwing gear, brought up the rear. “…And that, Leah, was how I stopped Taurus and Pisces!”
“That was really something, Brad.” Leah laughed. Ashleigh, unseen by Nightwing, rolled her eyes.
“Everything ready, Warren?” Ash asked.
“Yeah. I found the problem. A wire shorted. Fried the whole board. I got it replaced, so the table is fully functional. I dropped the board into the electronics bay. I’ll take care of it later, unless Mentor has one of the drones do it.” Warren zipped around dispensing drinks to everyone.
“Okay, everyone,” Dan’s voice came through the speakers, “is that everyone?”
Sharon spoke from her seat. “No, Dan. Dove still isn’t here.”
“She probably got hung up at the hospital,” Warren offered. “They’ve been busy, from what I understand, getting the new ward up. I never realized that we could be defined as ‘abnormal medicine.’”
“Dr. Tyler specialized. A lot happens through alteration and mutation, Lightning. Take yourself,” Dan responded, “your metabolism sped up, allowing you to move faster. Why do others that have similar abilities suffer from accelerated aging or dietary problems?”
“Clean living, Dan,” Warren shot back, “it keeps me from having all those problems.”
“Hey, Brad!” Dani threw in, “I heard you were telling Leah about how you stopped Taurus and Pisces. Did you happen to tell her that knocking the supports out from under that water tower was an accident?” Dani showed a big grin.
“C’mon, Hellfire, that was all part of my plan,” Nightwing retorted.
“So you intentionally let Taurus hit you that hard just to take out the supports? I mean, if it was really intentional, wouldn’t you have stayed conscious through it all?” she laughed.
Leah was laughing hard. “I can’t believe how much I missed all of this!”
Nightwing stood. “When do I start getting some respect around here?”
“About when you stop being a fly-by-night operator and the comedy relief.”
Everyone stood and looked to the door where Jason stood.
“Heard you weren’t coming, Scott,” Nightwing growled.
“What’s the matter, Michaels? Afraid that the first team will step up and you’ll be benched for the season?” Jason retorted mildly.
Nightwing moved forward threateningly. “Any time you think you’re man enough to take me, Scott!”
“Another time, junior.”
Ashleigh moved into Nightwing’s path of travel, stopping him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, Jason? You would have been here sooner.”
Jason sighed. “Because, Ash, I’m not here. I mean I am, but I’m not staying. As for traveling with you, nothing personal, but I really didn’t feel like being lectured about what I should be doing for the duration of the trip.”
Theresa stepped to Jason and hugged him. “Missed you.”
“Missed you, too, Trese, but I had work to do.”
“Must be hard work getting out of working, Scott!” Nightwing barked.
“Put a muzzle on it, Michaels. Considering your personal history, I don’t really think a preppy like you has any business telling me about work.” Jason looked around the room. “Hey, War. Car keys?”
“I’ll get them. Give me a second.” Warren vanished, creating a small breeze.
Dani moved in closer to Jason and wrapped an arm around him. “Thanks for taking me to that reception. I can’t believe all the people I met there.”
Jason smiled at her. “It was no problem, Dani. It was fun.”
“So, Jason, any chance we can talk you into helping out?” Dan asked.
“No, Dan. I have some things I need to deal with. I’m only here for tonight and tomorrow. Then I’m off to deal with a few more issues at another office.”
Leah took a few tentative steps closer. “Hello, Jason.”
He looked at her, seeing her for the first time. “Leah. You look good.”
“Jason, I just… I want…”
“Here you go, Jase. Didn’t get a chance to wash it or anything, but I didn’t scratch it or anything like that.” Warren handed Jason the keys.
“Thanks, Warren.”
The door opened again admitting Dr. Kris Tyler, her white wings taking up most of the doorway.
“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late. I was just…” She drew up short seeing Jason. “Jason. I thought you weren’t going to be here.” Her frown pulled the ugly scar on the right side of her face that marred her beauty.
“I’m not staying, Kris. Just came to get my car.” He moved away from the girls and turned to Kris, who immediately took a step backwards, away from him. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”
Kris moved into the room and away from the door, giving Jason more than enough room to leave. Jason took the hint.
Ashleigh whispered to Leah, “You want to talk to him, go after him.”
Leah gathered her courage, and walked to the door and went out.
“Jason!”
Standing beside the elevator door, Jason turned to Leah. “What?”
“I’d like you to stay. We’ve got a lot to discuss and I really think that we could use your help and…”
“No,” he responded quietly. “I have things that need doing and reasons not to stay.” He gave a look back at the door. The elevator door opened and he stepped inside.
“What happened, Jason?”
He looked at her. No emotion crossed his face as he spoke. “You left.”
“Can we at least talk?”
“Yeah, Leah, we can talk.” The elevator door closed, leaving her alone in the hall. She turned and walked back to the meeting room.
Dani looked up from her monitor. “So, what happened?”
Leah looked at Dani sadly. “He left.”
“Did you get to talk to him?” Ash asked. Leah just shook her head, no.
“I’ll bring him back!” Nightwing rose up from his chair and flew out the door and down the hall.
“He’s changed,” Leah said.
“Noticed that, did you?” Dani replied.
“What do you mean?” Kris asked. “His mood?”
“No. He’s taller, for one thing,” Leah said.
Several monitors changed over from Dan Thomas. Some showed the parking area. Others showed Jason in the elevator. Still others showed Nightwing flying down a shaft inside the building.
“The next idiot,” Ash said quietly.
Warstar looked at her. “What do you mean?”
Ash gave Warstar a small smile. “Just something I talked with Marlene about earlier today.”
“Do you want me to stop them?” Warren asked.
“No. I think they both need this. For different reasons.” She looked at the monitor that showed Jason walking from the elevator towards his car.
Kris spoke up. “Mentor. Give a comparison between the two.”
“Yes, Dr. Tyler. At last evaluation, Nightwing was stronger, being capable of lifting three thousand five hundred pounds compared to Pulsar’s one thousand eight hundred pounds. Under most circumstances, Nightwing’s reaction times were superior to Pulsar’s. Pulsar’s fighting capabilities are superior to Nightwing’s. Nightwing is classed as a ‘brawler,’ while Pulsar has actual training.
“That is assuming, of course, that Pulsar does not resort to using his powers. Nightwing has a top speed of four hundred twenty nine miles per hour compared to Pulsar’s top speed of two hundred sixty eight miles per hour. Within the confines of the garage flight should not enter into the combat.
“Nightwing still has little grasp of the concept of tactics…”
“While Jason did most of our planning.” Warren finished.
“’Do you know what your sin is, Mal’” Dani said.
Theresa gave her friend a grin. “’Ah Hell... I'm a fan of all seven. But right now... I'm gonna have to go with wrath.’”
Leah, looking confused, asked “Who’s Mal?”
Lightning put a hand on each girl’s shoulder. “You have done well, my young padawans.”
“Mentor, full sensor sweep of the parking area during whatever happens. Let’s see if we can’t get an updated idea of the current capabilities of Jason.”
“Yes, Dr. Tyler,” Mentor responded.
Dan frowned from the monitor. “Is all this really necessary?”
“’Necessary,’ Dan?” Theresa responded. “I wouldn’t say ‘necessary,’ although it is a long time overdue in happening. That was weird.” Theresa frowned down at the monitor.
“What was, Trese?” Kris asked.
“As soon as the sensor sweep started, Jason stopped for a second. You don’t think he might actually know that the sweep started, do you?”
“Powers?” Ash inquired.
“If anyone wants to buy me dinner,” Theresa said, “I say ‘no’. Jason won’t use. He’s been denying that aspect of himself since he left. I don’t think Brad will be able to pull that out of Jase. He’ll probably be enjoying the beating he’ll be inflicting without them.”
Ashleigh looked at Trese. “That wasn’t what I meant, but you’re on. If Jason uses you buy me dinner. Whatever I want. Wherever I want. I think Nightwing might just push all the right buttons to get Jason into full combat mode.”
Jason stepped from the elevator and began the walk to his car. He paused and his eyes flashed red, imperceptible to the cameras, as the sensors began scanning the garage. His head turned slowly. He noted the locations of the devices and resumed his stride to the Lamborghini.
Nightwing emerged from the flight shaft. The wind whistled slightly in his passing.
“Hey! Asshole! The lady wasn’t done talking with you!”
Nightwing bore down on Jason with his arms outstretched in an attempt to lift his target on contact. Ducking low to the ground Jason threw a back kick. He caught Nightwing low in the gut. Nightwing doubled over from the blow. The momentum from his flight carried him forward. The force of the kick lifted him enough that he cleared the top of Theresa’s Mustang.
The Lamborghini wasn’t as fortunate. Steel crumpled and glass shattered with Nightwing’s impact. Rubber squealed as the car moved sideways into Dani’s Miata.
Jason stood ready as Nightwing got to his feet. “That was a lucky shot, Scott! We both know I’m better than you!”
“Really, Michaels? If I recall, you do three things really well. You’re moderately strong. You fly really, really fast. What was the third? Oh, yeah. You can see in the dark.”
Nightwing charged. “I’m stronger than you!” His fist flew towards Jason’s face and was caught in Jason’s grip. A look of surprise crossed his face.
“Not anymore.”
Three rapid-fire blows caught Nightwing in the gut and left him breathless. A spin kick landed him on his backside in front of the damaged car. Dazed, he slowly got himself to his feet. Jason’s fist met him halfway as he came erect, knocking him back to his knees. A kick lifted him up and he slammed down onto the front of the silver car. The front axle buckled and the tire fell flat under the car.
Blood trickled from Nightwing’s nose and the corner of his mouth. His breath was ragged and his eyes were glazed, staring at the ceiling.
Disgusted by the damage done to his car, Jason tossed the keys across the garage and began walking up the exit ramp to the street.
Nightwing moved uncertainly as he climbed off the remains of the car. “Come back! We aren’t finished yet!” His voice croaked and cracked as he spoke. His knees buckled and he collapsed. The twisted steel of the car’s trunk slid off and joined him lying on the concrete.
“Well, that was…” Dani started.
“…interesting.” Theresa finished. “That has to be just about the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone put Brad down.”
“Except maybe Brad.” Dani added.
“Warren! Med kit!” Kris yelled and took off flying for the shaft so recently used by Nightwing.
Lightning moved and was waiting by the entrance to the flight shaft with the med kit when Dove dove in taking hold of the kit on the way by.
“I think Jason needs to give up on Lamborghinis. That’s what? Three that he’s lost? And Brad! I seriously hope he didn’t damage my car!” said Dani.
“At least he missed mine!” Theresa grinned at Dani.
Warstar, voice deep, spoke. “Huntress. You knew Pulsar would be here tonight. How?”
“It’s a simple matter, Warstar, if you know enough. Lightning doesn’t own a car here. He runs anywhere that he needs to be. If he needs a car for any reason, he has full access to the SE carpool. He usually uses Jason’s. With the time that he spent visiting with Leah, he never bothered to take Jason’s car back. It only stands to reason that Jason knew that Lightning had his car. He would also know if it had been returned. It hadn’t, so he came here looking for it.” Sharon favored Warstar with a smile.
“I understand that,” he began, “but how did you know that he would be in the city tonight?”
“Stacy’s birthday!” Dani started lightly beating her head against the tabletop. “I can’t believe I forgot about Stacy’s birthday party!”
“Party? What party?” Ash looked confused.
“Stacy Deveraux,” Leah answered. “I forgot all about her. Her mom and Jason’s were best friends. She was named after Jason’s mom. She’s eighteen or nineteen now.”
“So,” Ash began, “you’re telling me that I wasted my day getting up early and flying out to Cali to convince Jason that he needed to come here today, when he already had plans to come this way anyways?”
Theresa hid a grin behind her hands. She was trying very hard not to laugh.
“Theresa! Did you know about this?”
Theresa started laughing. “I told you that a trip west wouldn’t be needed!”
“At least you got to see Marlene,” Dani said.
“Great, people.” Dan looked down from the monitor. “We’re possibly short an operative and you are all acting like you’ve found one of the great secrets of the universe. Dove! What’s Nightwing’s status?”
Dani looked at Dan and spoke. “Lighten up, Dan. It was just Brad. He’s taken worse before.”
A view of the garage showed Lightning and Dove with Nightwing lying on a gurney.
“Near as I can tell, Dan, minor concussion. He should be up and fully functional in the morning. I’ll do a more detailed diagnosis once I get him into the med bay and have a chance to have the scanners go over him.”
Lightning and Dove wheeled the gurney into the open elevator.
“As you all know,” Leah began, “about two years ago, I left. I didn’t say anything to anyone here about why. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. Not even Kate. I realize that I hurt a lot of you.” Her eyes lingered on Theresa. “I realize that I hurt Jason. It wasn’t intentional on my part.
“I was approached for a mission. I was not approached as Sparx. I was approached as Leah Capwell, former model. My mission was to infiltrate, if I could, into the organization of Ulysses Madacar. The Department of Justice wanted someone that had some training and enough of a name that they would not be seen as a potential threat by anyone in the organization.”
Leah stood and began walking around the table.
“I was sent to make contact with a member of Madacar’s staff in Monte Carlo. Make contact, get him interested, and do what was necessary.”
“Well, you obviously succeeded!” Theresa commented.
“Psistorm,” Dan said, “not now!”
“Thank you, Dan,” said Leah. “Psistorm, you and I, when this is all over, will talk. Either like adults or in the training room like Nightwing and Pulsar.”
“At least you aren’t calling those two adults,” Warren added.
Leah shot a look at Lightning. “The man that I was asked to make contact with was this man.” Leah pressed a button and the image of a handsome man with dark hair appeared on the monitors. “His name is Steven Bauer. He is Madacar’s assistant. When he speaks, it is with the voice and full authority of Madacar.”
“I’ve done business with Bauer,” Paladin's voice came through the speakers. “He is ruthless when it comes to business dealings people, and Miss Capwell is correct. From what I’ve been able to discern, if anything happens to Madacar, Bauer will be the man taking over.”
“Thank you, Paladin,” Dan said to the knight in shining blue and silver armor,
Continuing, Leah said, “Steven has a very… forceful personality. I made contact. He seemed interested. He invited me to dinner. He invited me to his yacht.”
“So he’s the one?” Psistorm asked.
Leah gave her a regretful smile. “Yeah, he was the one.
“Things happened faster than I thought they would with Steven. He sees what he wants and he takes it. Regardless of the cost. He was brokering a deal for Madacar in Southeast Asia. The deal would have involved the Triads and the Yakuza. Possibly other organizations. Drugs. Weapons. The DOJ wanted to know what. I understand that the CIA was also interested.
“Out on the yacht I watched as he killed a man. Apparently the man had been an agent of a rival organization. I called in to my control. They needed more than one verified killing considering what they thought was at stake. I was ordered to stay and continue.”
Lightning let out a groan. “This whole setup stinks!”
“Leah, who was your control?” Ashleigh asked.
“Maxwell Spears,”Leah answered with some confusion.
Dan’s face turned away from the monitor. Lightning yelled, “Leah, if I had known Spears was behind this, you never would have left!”
“Lightning!” Dan barked. “This has nothing to do with the Danforth issue. Leah, when was the last time you made contact with Spears?”
“About three months ago, Dan. I called when I was ready to come in, but I never got an answer from him.”
“When I get a hold of him…” Lightning began.
“Won’t happen people. Spears was confirmed killed last year. It was a professional hit. Cheapshot took him out.”
“That isn’t possible, Dan!” Leah exclaimed. “I told you, I talked with him about three months ago!”
“It wasn’t him, Leah.” Dan checked something off screen. “We’re looking for confirmations on Spears’s cases. Cross-checking with the DOJ. It sounds like you’ve been compromised for a while, Leah.”
Ash looked up from the monitor. “Leah, why did you call to come in?” she asked.
“Steven has been hunting for something. Burning contacts and calling in favors. Doing whatever it took to find what he was looking for. What it turned out he was looking for,” Leah said, “was Warmonger’s primary research base.
“He found it. There’s an island,” she pressed a button and the monitor changed to show a map, “here.” A red dot appeared amid the blue of the south Atlantic.
“Oh, hell,” Ash whispered. “Just what we need. Madacar and Nova Research getting hold of any of Warmonger’s plans or schematics.”
Illuminated only by the occasional flash of lightning through the skylight and windows from without, Jason sat bare-chested in silence at his desk. Sweat glistened across his muscles from the light of a desk lamp. Papers sat in neat stacks waiting for or already had had his attention. The one currently under his scrutiny was being notated in the margin and bore sweat stains from his hands.
“Are you going to say something or are you just going to stand there?” he asked to the darkness.
A shadow moved soundlessly and came into the light of the lamp. Sharon took a seat on the corner of the desk. Her stocking feet, ankles crossed, came to rest on the arm of Jason’s chair. She lifted a sword replica letter opener from its place on the desk.
“How did you know I was here?”
Jason looked to Sharon’s eyes, covered, even now, by dark glasses. “I saw you.”
Sharon turned her head, seeming to take in the loft. “Dark. I always liked the dark. You could never see in the dark. Not like Nightwing. You’ve changed. In a lot of ways. I’m not sure all of them are good.
“How did you see me?”
“Take your glasses off, Sharon. I’ve never liked them,” he said. “I always liked the intensity of the color of your eyes. They always reminded me of the sky.”
Sharon took the glasses off and dropped them onto the paper in Jason’s hand.
“What color are your eyes now?” she asked.
His head dropped to his chest, stretching his neck. “I imagine red for the most part. Not something I have to think about when I’m alone.”
“A rather impressive beating you gave that bag. Thinking of anyone in particular?” she asked.
“What makes you think…” he started.
“Jason, don’t think me a fool. Not now or ever. I can’t see you but you have that masculine scent that I became very familiar with when I was teaching you. You always preferred your bags filled with sand and there happens to be sand over a very great deal of the floor. Now, as I don’t feel any breezes coming from places that they shouldn’t be, that means you didn’t blow any holes in the walls. So, you beat the heavy bag into the garbage. Exactly who are you angry at?”
“Brad.”
Sharon gave a small laugh. “Hardly. I understand the fight was rather impressive. If you want to call it a fight. You and Brad don’t like each other. If you were really angry with him you would have dragged the fight out longer to beat on him more.
“Are you angry at Leah? It isn’t like you said a lot to her.”
“What’s the point? Me and Leah are ancient history.”
Sharon leaned forward resting her arm across her knees and balanced the letter opener on the tip of a finger. “’Ancient history’. For who? You? If that were the case, you would have moved on. It isn’t like you don’t have options.”
“Options for what?”
“Relationships. Sex.”
Jason laughed. “With who? You?”
He reached over and caressed her ankle. She moved her feet and sat cross-legged on the desk.
“Hardly. Don’t get me wrong. It was fun when it happened and you needed it after Sandy died. I needed it after my husband died. But right now, you and I aren’t exactly relationship material and I’m looking for more than just a sexual outlet.
“You want a list of the women in your life that might actually make a good chance for you? Open your eyes, Jason. You’ve dated. Once or twice with a woman and you move on before something serious comes from it. It seems everything you attempt, you sabotage. The only woman you dated for an extended period was Angelique, and honestly, I really don’t want to know how or why that came about!”
“It came about,” he said quietly, “because it had to. I can’t go into it any more than that. Trust me on that.”
“I’d like to, Jason, but like I said, you’ve changed!
“Marlene was Sandy’s best friend. You’ve known her longer than anyone, except me. She loves you. Theresa loves you. Dani loves you. If you want to have fun you could probably have the two of them at the same time! Some of the women you’ve dated probably would have liked to be considered ‘relationship material!’”
Sharon threw the letter opener behind her where a soft sound indicated that it was buried in the remains of the bag.
“How strong are you now?”
“Tests put me at about the same level as Brad.”
“Your reaction time is faster. No matter how you moved or blocked, Brad was always able to connect with you once or twice. From what they described to me, Brad never had a chance.”
“If they wanted him to have a chance, they wouldn’t have started the sweep,” he said.
“That’s a false assumption. Had they known your revised capabilities, they wouldn’t have had to run the sweep. Kris would probably like to have some time with you to have a really good look at what has changed.”
“That might get her in the same room with me for an extended period.”
Sharon cocked her head as if she were looking at Jason. “You can’t blame her for that. She was never the warrior that you or Ash was. Or Warren for that matter. Her medical training and her beliefs just made her more and more of a pacifist.
“Take a good look at her next time you see her, Jason. A couple of inches more to the left and you would have killed her.”
Jason stood and his chair rolled back to slam into the wall.
“Don’t you think I know that!” he yelled. “I. Lost. Control!”
“You were angry. The Blood Guard members were just acceptable targets for your anger. And the discussion becomes a circle.
“Who are you angry at?” She got up from the desk and started walking towards the door. She gathered her coat and her shoes. From the pocket of the coat in her arms she pulled out a data stick and tossed it at Jason, who caught it out of the air. “Dan wanted you to have that. He thought it might change your mind about tomorrow. You should have stayed for the meeting. It would have been enlightening for you.”
Sharon slipped on her coat and stepped into her shoes. Her heels clicked as she walked across the bare floor to the door. “You said my eyes reminded you of the sky, Jason. When was the last time you flew?” The door closed with a solid bang before he could answer.
Jason retrieved his chair and turned his attention back to the stacks of paper on the desk. Sharon’s glasses and the data stick diverted his attention time and again. Sharon’s final question seemed to echo in the silence.
With a roar that was part anger and part frustration, Jason swept the papers from his desk, scattering them across the floor. Sharon’s glasses remained, staring reproachfully at him. When was the last time you flew?
Jason picked up the data stick and turned it over and over under the light. A touch on the desktop opened the bay and he slotted the stick into the port for it. The monitor in his desk and the wall monitor mounted high behind him came to life with the insignia of Project Wildfire and the record of the Guardian’s meeting played before him.
When the recording was done, Jason brought up the image of Steven Bauer.
“Son of a bitch...” Jason whispered to himself as he stood. “Son of a bitch!” he roared as his chair sailed into the over-sized monitor. Pieces of it rained down.
Jason – The Party Tuesday 10:48 P. M.
Lightning flashed overhead and rain misted on the windshield of the taxi. Jason sat in the back behind the Plexiglas divider lost in thought. A shower and a change of clothes did nothing for his mood, which was thoroughly reflected in the weather.
“Bad night to be out. Storm’ll be worse before morning. Seen it like this before,” the driver said.
“Yeah,” Jason replied indifferently.
The cab slowed and pulled to the side. “Hey, man! Looks like I’m gonna hafta drop ya here,” the cab driver informed Jason. “Somethin’ goin’ on up ahead. Can’t get no closer.”
“This is fine. I can walk the rest of the way.” Jason paid no attention to the hundred dollar bill he passed to the driver. “Keep the change,” he said.
Lights flashed from the tops of police cruisers and a SWAT van. Officers in tactical gear were everywhere. Barricades closed off both ends of the street with officers keeping bystanders and reporters out. Jason worked his way through the crowd up to the barrier. A reporter was trying to get information from a police officer.
“C’mon. Give me something I can use, Murphy!” the cute, young, beret wearing reporter said.
Murphy replied, “Look. I’d really like to help you out, but my orders are orders. You’re going to have to wait until the captain releases a statement to the press, Val. Same as everyone else. Now step back!”
Valora moved a step back. “This isn’t a way to get your name in the paper, Murphy!” she yelled as she moved down the blockade.
Jason stepped up beside Val and asked, “What’s going on? What’s the story here?”
“Some girl’s birthday party was crashed. There were shots fired. Apparently, there’s a hostage situation.” She turned to Jason. “You a reporter? Get your own story!”
Jason gave her his best smile. “No, Val. I’m not a reporter. I was supposed to be going to a party, but the street is blocked off. Who is in charge of the detachment?”
“Frank Stone. Are you sure you aren’t a reporter?”
Jason gave a laugh. “I’m sure, Val.” He turned into the crowd, away from the police line.
“Hey,” her voiced carried behind him, “you’re that Scott guy!”
He tossed her a wave over his shoulder and vanished into the crowd. Jason turned into an alley and looked to see if anyone noticed. A bum was curled up by a box. No one else was around. Jason changed as a crimson energy corona outlined his frame. Gone were the rain-drenched overcoat and street clothes. In their place was the yellow and orange battle gear of Pulsar.
He looked to the sky as rain fell on his face. Light burst and thunder roared close behind.
When was the last time you flew?
“Tonight, Huntress!” he roared as his feet left the ground leaving a crimson wake behind him.
Pulsar flew low over the building and landed behind the command van. He opened the rear door and climbed in. “What the hell!” Franklin Stone bellowed as he turned. “You are about the last person I expected, Pulsar.” He smiled and held out his hand. Pulsar took it.
“Captain. What’s the situation?”
Stone ran his hand over his graying black hair.
“Well, as far as we know, we have a party in the Deveraux penthouse. Spotters have been able to get a count of five hostiles. Possibly more. All of them are armed. Pistols and two shotguns. We don’t believe they have any fully automatics, but we aren’t positive. Snipers can’t get a line on all five. They keep moving and staying away from any windows.” Stone indicated the plan of the penthouse. “We’ve thought about taking a team up and dropping them on the roof. We’ve got the stairs covered and shut down the elevators.”
“Have they made any demands?” Pulsar asked as he looked closely at the floor plan.
“Five million dollars. A commercial helicopter. Twelve backpacks with enough food to last a week.”
“Is there a time limit?” He looked at the building, noting the position of the penthouse balcony.
Stone turned his gaze to the clock. “We’ve got twenty-three minutes before they toss the first party girl off the balcony. They also warned us that if any costumes showed up or tried to interfere, they’d toss more than one. And at first sign.”
Pulsar nodded. “I understand. I’ll just have to make sure they don’t see me.”
Stone smiled showing white teeth contrasting against his dark skin. “Is this the part where I tell you, Guardian, that this is a police situation and we have it well in hand?”
Pulsar gave a light laugh. “You can try, Captain, but I think I’ve already left.” He turned and exited the command van.
Pulsar left the same way he came, flying low through an alley.
…to protect those unable to protect themselves…
Positioning the building and the orientation of the penthouse in his mind, Pulsar flew away from the barricades. Judging that he had traveled far enough, he flew straight up into the teeth of the storm. Lightning fractured the sky and thunder shook him to his core as it boomed behind the lightning.
Looking down upon the city at night, Pulsar fell. He angled his descent in the direction of the building surrounded by the flashing lights of the police. Small flashes of power kept his fall under control. Once over the building he arrested his fall and alit lightly on the roof.
A short walk took him to the edge of the building, looking down upon an alley. Another step and little exertion left him slowly descending towards a bedroom window. He reached out and touched the window frame. Crimson light surrounded the window frame and suddenly, the frame and the glass were gone. He flew into the room slowly and came to ground on the carpet. He turned and put his hand up to the empty window space. A crimson flash of power and the window was returned to its place.
He took a quick look around the room. The door was slightly ajar. Pulsar changed and Jason stood in black suit pants. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to the elbows. He moved quietly towards the door and peered out. Seeing no one in the hall, Jason slowly opened the door and stepped out.
The stock of a shotgun cracked him across the temple and he fell to the floor.
“Get up!” a voice growled at him.
Jason stood unsteadily. A flick of his tongue and he tasted his blood on his lips. A gash from the blow bled freely. He hobbled down the hall leaning heavily against the wall.
“Hey, Carl! Found this guy coming out of a bedroom!”
Carl was heavy-set with a boxer’s build. An average looking guy with a nose indicating a past break. He toted the second shotgun.
“What were you doing in the bedroom?” he asked Jason.
“I was in the bathroom when you came in,” Jason answered thickly. “I hid in the bedroom.”
“We searched the bedrooms,” Carl said.
“Guess I just hid better than you searched, Carl.”
“Sit down!” A backhanded blow snapped Jason’s head to the side.
“Jason, come here,” said Emily Deveraux.
Jason turned his head to Emily and then back to Carl. Six men, Jason thought to himself. Carl indicated in Emily’s direction with the barrel of his shotgun. Jason stumbled her way and sat next to her. She pulled Jason’s head to her lap and applied a napkin to the wound on his head. She bent over as if inspecting the wound.
“What are you going to do?” she whispered.
Jason looked at her out of the corner of his eye as she wiped blood from his face. “Make sure that only the right people get hurt,” he replied in a whisper.
He looked around the room, assessing. Six targets. Twenty or twenty-five of Stacy’s friends as potential casualties or witnesses. Roughly ten minutes before the time limit was up.
The phone rang and Carl answered it.
“What do you want, Stone? …I don’t want excuses, Stone! I want the money and a helicopter loaded! You have…” he checked his watch, “eight minutes by my watch before I toss someone off the balcony!” Carl slammed the phone down.
Jason watched as Carl looked around the room. His eyes settled on Stacy and he walked over to her. From the looks of Stacy, she had been crying. A lot of the girls looked like they might have been. Some of the guys looked like they would have liked to.
“Today’s your big day, girl. What are you? Nineteen?” he asked, as he sat on the coffee table in front of Stacy, laying the shotgun across his knees. Stacy just nodded her head. “Well, since it is your big day, what do you say to going first?”
Carl’s hand swallowed Stacy’s arm. Pulling her up from her seat he dragged her towards the balcony. Stacy started screaming for someone, anyone, to help her. Jason felt Emily tense up beneath him and he gave her leg a quick squeeze. Carl managed to slide the door open and get Stacy on the balcony. He was able to close the door with an elbow.
A young man stood and promptly had a handgun in his face. He sat back down heavily. Jason pivoted from his position. His leg caught the gunman behind the knees. His other foot caught the gunman in the side of the head, slamming it into the coffee table. One.
Jason grabbed hold of a tray and spilled the contents on the floor. He turned and dodged one of the other gunmen. His knee drove up into the man’s stomach and the tray clanged off the back of his head. Two. A handgun discharged. Large caliber, Jason gauged from the sound. A body fell to the floor with a scream of agony.
“Everyone get down! On the floor now!” Jason yelled.
Bodies moved low around the room. Jason turned and caught a blast from the shotgun on the tray at close range. He threw the tray and caught the man that fired the handgun in the neck with it. Three. A leaping side kick landed on the chest of the man with the shotgun. The shotgun blew a hole in the ceiling as the man flew backwards. Four.
The remaining gunman closed the range with Jason. Jason grabbed the hand holding the gun, rolled himself backwards down the gunman’s arm and slammed his elbow into the back of the man’s head. Five.
Jason looked out the door in time to see Carl force Stacy over the railing of the balcony. Jason charged, never once stepping on a body, and shattered the door. He spun and slid backwards across the rain slick balcony. He slammed into the railing beside Carl. Momentum carried Jason over the railing. His foot caught Carl under the chin as he went over.
Below, a policeman called to the captain, “We’ve got two bodies falling!”
The crowd gave a horrified cry as it watched the bodies plummeting.
Stone watched through binoculars. “Come on, hero! Now’s the time if you are going to do something!” he said to himself.
Looking down, Jason noted one of Stacy’s shoes falling free. Stacy was reaching up to him as she fell screaming in fear.
Jason changed.
Pulsar accelerated, watching as the ground below rushed closer. He grabbed hold of Stacy, one arm around her back. Her arm whipped around his neck and locked into a death grip.
Too fast! he thought to himself. Too low!
Pulsar turned trying to compensate for his downward speed and the additional weight. He spun, flying backwards, and eyed the SWAT van.
“This is going to…”
The tactical van rolled up on two wheels from the impact, and settled heavily back down on all four wheels. Pulsar fell the remaining few feet to the road. Stacy landed on top of him and rolled off.
The first sensation was fading pain. The second was rain pouring down. Paramedics were trying to put him on a board when he sat up.
“I don’t need that. How long was I out?” he asked one of them.
“About five minutes, sir.”
“How is the girl?” he asked.
“She’s shaken up quite a bit, sir. Her arm is broken,” the paramedic responded. “The police have all the men in custody. The girl’s mother was shot. They have her on her way to River General.”
Pulsar stood unsteadily, and walked to the ambulance where Stacy was laying on a gurney. She looked at him as he walked up.
“You saved me!” she said quietly. Her voice scratchy from the screaming she had done earlier.
“Not quite, miss. Had I saved you, your arm wouldn’t be broken. I just kept you from dying.”
A paramedic was splinting her arm. “We’ve got it set. We’ll be running her in for a cast,” she said.
“That won’t be necessary,” he replied as he reached out and put his hand on Stacy’s arm. A crimson nimbus surrounded his hand where he touched her. Heat suffused her arm eliciting a sharp intake of breath from her. Pulsar stiffened and flexed his arm.
“She’ll be fine,” he said tiredly.
He turned to see Val standing by Captain Stone, beside the command van. Both of them were looking at him. He looked up into the heart of the storm and took off.
Jason and Kris ~ River General 11:42 P.M.
Pulsar came to rest beyond the parking lot of River General Hospital. He changed and Jason walked through the doors of the emergency room. He noted the nurse behind the counter and walked over.
“I’m looking for a friend. Emily Deveraux. She was shot,” he stated.
The nurse looked at him. “Are you family?” she asked.
“No,” he answered, “just an old friend.”
“She’s in emergency surgery. Dr. Tyler is with her.” She turned her attention to a computer monitor and Jason slipped away.
Great, he thought to himself.
When a gurney came through the doors he slipped into the emergency room proper. He noted several of his playmates from earlier, accompanied by police escorts as they were treated. None of them looked at him.
He made his way to the operating room and looked in. Kris and her medical team were performing surgery on Emily. He watched and waited.
Twenty minutes later, Stacy and her father, Richard Deveraux, came into the ER. Richard, a fifty-ish man with gray hair and eyeglasses, had his Blackberry in hand. The nurse Jason spoke with earlier was urging Richard to turn it off or she would be calling security.
Stacy came over and looked through the window into the OR. “Will she be all right?” she asked Jason.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he told her gently. He put his arm around her. Stacy turned away from the door and buried her face in Jason’s chest. She began crying softly. Jason held her close. “It’ll be alright,” he told her quietly.
“He threw me off the balcony,” she said. “I was falling. You were falling!”
Jason laid a finger across Stacy’s lips. “Not here, Stace. Not now. Later, you and I can talk about things, but not right now.” He looked towards Richard. Stacy looked back over her shoulder to her father where he was still fiddling with his phone.
Richard looked up and saw the two of them looking at him. He put his phone into the pocket of his overcoat and walked towards them. “Scott,” he nodded his head towards Jason. “How is Emily?”
“Your wife is still in surgery, Dick,” Jason responded. “The doctor is still working. I’m sure she’ll have news for you when she is done.”
Richard seemed to take umbrage at Jason’s tone. “My name is ‘Richard’, Scott. Not ‘Dick’! Your father always called me that. I never much cared for it when he did it.”
Richard’s phone chose that moment to ring. He stepped away, fished it from his pocket, and began a rather animated conversation with it.
“Asshole,” Jason said under his breath so that Stacy would not hear.
Stacy was looking back into the OR. “Isn’t that doctor a friend of yours?” she asked.
“She was, Stace. She was,” he answered.
Richard stepped back up. “I have to go back to the office. Can you take care of my daughter, Scott?”
“Sure, Dick, I’ll take care of your family for you.” Jason drew himself up to his full height and looked down on Richard. Richard turned with indignation rife on his face and left.
Perhaps an hour later, Kris stepped out of the OR. Her wings were folded behind her. She saw Jason and Stacy sitting on a bench. Each was holding a coffee cup. With an intake of breath she pulled down her mask and stepped towards the girl.
“Miss Deveraux? I’m Dr. Tyler.”
“Is my mother going to be okay?” she asked.
“Your mother is in a very critical condition. We’re trying to get her condition to stabilize. I’m afraid that we are going to have to do more surgery. We weren’t able to get the bullet out,” the doctor said. “We’re going to wheel her into a private room for post-op recovery while we wait and see what happens.”
“Can I see her?” Stacy asked, wiping tears from her face.
Kris nodded. “You can sit with her when we get her into her room.” She turned her attention to Jason. “I heard this was your doing,” she said quietly.
“Not quite, Kris. I’ve never used a gun on anyone.” Jason offered his coffee cup to her. She nodded with a small smile for him as she took it and drank.
“I’ve got teams dealing with broken ribs, concussions, a fractured jaw…”
“At least,” he interjected quietly, “you are only dealing with one gunshot wound and there were no fatalities, Kris.”
“This time, Jason. What about next time?”
The nurse called out for Kris. “Dr. Tyler, they put Mrs. Deveraux into room two-twelve.”
“Thank you, Carrie.” She turned back to Stacy. “Come on. I’ll take you to your mom.”
In room two-twelve, Stacy walked over to the bed her mother was lying upon. She took her mother’s hand in her own and looked at Jason. “Is there anything you can do?”
Standing inside the doorway, Jason looked up to the camera. “Kris, can you disable that?”
“Why should I?” she asked as she checked the monitors hooked up to Emily.
Jason walked to her and set his hand lightly on her shoulder. She stiffened at the touch, but did not pull away. “To help me do the right thing.”
She looked up at him, searching his eyes. She nodded. “They told me you had changed. What can you do?”
“I don’t know, but if you are willing to become my doctor again, you get first crack at finding out.”
She hung the clipboard with Emily’s charts on the end of the bed and walked towards the door. “Does this mean you’ll be with the team tomorrow?”
Jason stood beside Emily’s bed. “I don’t know, Kris. One thing at a time.”
Kris walked to the nurse’s station and turned off the camera in room two-twelve. By the time she had returned to the room, Jason had rolled up his shirt sleeves and unbuttoned his shirt.
“What do you want us to do?” Kris asked as she closed the door.
“Hopefully, nothing. Stace you need to let go of your mother. Whatever happens, Kris, don’t touch me or her until I let go of her.” Jason put one hand on Emily’s chest over the gunshot wound, and took her hand in his other. He took a deep breath. The hand on Emily's chest began glowing red. He stiffened and blood began to trickle down his chest, seeping into his shirt. The monitors showed Emily’s heart rate growing stronger.
Kris watched in horrified fascination as the initial gunshot wound and the surgical incisions she had made in Emily appeared on Jason’s chest. Several moments passed before the glow faded from around his hand. He stood, releasing Emily's hand as he did. With some apparent effort, he took his hand from her chest, and took a short, awkward step backwards. Blood was smeared down his chest, flowing freely from the open wounds he had accepted.
Kris was moving towards Emily when Jason fell heavily to his knees. A quick glance at Emily’s monitor showed a strong, regular heartbeat. Jason weakly held himself on his hands and knees. Blood pooled on the floor beneath him.
Kris knelt beside Jason and rolled him onto his back. She ripped his shirt completely open. Using her scrubs to wipe his chest, she checked to see the rate at which his healing factor closed the wounds.
“Will he be alright?” Stacy asked.
Kris nodded. “He's a fast healer. I've never seen him do that before, though.”
Stacy moved beside Jason. “His eyes are glowing red! How long has he been like this?”
“All his life, Stacy,” Emily answered quietly from her bed. “He was born this way.”
Kris looked up at Emily. “You knew?”
Emily smiled. “His mother was my best friend. We didn't keep a lot of secrets from each other. As he grew, and we saw the type of man he would be, we continued to keep his secret.”
Stacy looked at her mother. “Even from me?”
“It wasn't my secret to tell you. Your father doesn't even know.”
Kris examined the wounds. Not even scars left traces on him. Jason reached up and touched the side of Kris's face with his fingers. She smiled down on him. His hand went to hers on his chest. He interlaced his fingers with hers. His fingers traced the scar and he remembered the day that he caused it. A tear rolled down the side of his face.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered to her.
“Shh. It's okay, Jason...”
His hand on hers began glowing. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.
Unable to move, held fast by the power Jason released into her, Kris watched through the glow emanating below her eyes. She watched as skin peeled back and the bone below Jason's face appeared. She was aware of a distant ache in her own face.
Later
Kris stood by the door in fresh scrubs. Jason sat in a chair, his shirt a bloody mess. Emily lay still in her bed, the head of it elevated. Stacy sat on the foot of it.
“Dammit, Jason! What possessed you to do that?” Kris asked vehemently.
Jason favored Kris with a smile. “Kari has had the advantage over you long enough?”
“Don't bring my sister into this! Why?”
“Guilt,” Emily said. “You always held the world on your shoulders. Like Atlas. Every time someone got hurt, somehow, you always felt you were at fault. I remember you when your mother died, Jason. You became so depressed that everyone thought that you would follow her. It seems that the only thing that kept you with us was that girl you were dating.”
“Sandy,” he replied quietly.
“Sandy. Every time she looked at you, it was like seeing your mother looking at your father. She would have done anything for you.”
“She died.”
“She was killed, Jason,” Emily said. “How many people were hurt that day in the bank?”
Jason looked at Emily. “Eight.”
“How many died, Jason?” Emily asked.
“Mom?” Stacy looked from her mother to Jason, eyes wide.
Emily asked again, “How many died?”
“One,” Jason answered quietly.
“How many men did you kill that day?”
“Jason?” Kris and Stacy asked, almost together.
“Six,” he answered.
Emily smiled tightly at Jason. “A year later and you've got three new friends. You made a difference in the world and in people's lives. Then Leah came into your life. You seemed more alive with her than you had in a long time. It was like seeing you with Sandy again.
“When Leah left, you withdrew into yourself.
“It wasn't your fault, Jason. You didn't cause the accident that took your mother from us. You didn't kill Sandy. You didn't make Leah leave you. And you didn't kill your father.”
Jason looked down at the floor. “I killed...”
Emily spoke quietly. “You killed six men that killed your fiancé and threatened numerous others. I don't recall anyone looking for you for that. I do recall people wondering about the man that stopped others from dying.”
“Jason,” Kris said, “I don't agree with decisions that you've made. They weren't decisions that I would have made.” Jason wearily looked at Kris. “But at the same time, they weren't decisions that I had to make. Warmonger had to be stopped. You stopped him. We all thought what you did was excessive.”
“Kris, it was excessive. It was also necessary. I'm not a hero, Kris. I've killed, and if it is necessary, I'd do it again. If that nuke hadn't killed Warmonger, I would have dropped another one. A bigger one. As many as it would have taken to make sure that he never got up again.
“It wasn't justice, Kris. It was revenge. Pure and simple.” Kris turned away and looked at the floor, discomfited by the admission. “I'm not you, Kris. I don't hold your beliefs. I respect you and them, but I can't follow them. You're a doctor. You don't play the game anymore because you took an oath to do no harm.
“Ash believes, Dani believes, that we use only the minimum force necessary to stop the bad guys. All my life, Kris, being who and what I am, I've had to hold back, so that I don't hurt someone unnecessarily.
“I am a mutant, Kris. I wasn't kidnapped by a subversive organization and altered to become a soldier, or to become a messenger pigeon. I didn't fall into a toxic waste dump and get struck by lightning while trying to get out of it. I was born this way.” He sighed.
“The facade, the shell, has been cracking. Pieces have fallen by the wayside, and I don't think it can truly be fixed. I'm not entirely sure that I want it fixed. Sharon taught me self-control. The discipline necessary to turn the other cheek. I feel that I've turned so many times that I've permanently become dizzy from it. I've lost too much, Kris, and the only way it seems that I can keep from losing anything else, is to just give it up.” Jason leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “I'm tired, Kris. I'm tired of living up to other people's expectations. Everyone seems to have ideas of who and what I should be.
“My father had Sharon train me when I was old enough to understand. For other people's protection. Before that, it was 'Don't' from my father and my mother. 'Don't be what you are. Don't let others find out. Hide what you are.'” Leaning into her mother, Stacy looked at Jason as if seeing him for the very first time. “It's become second nature to keep secrets, Kris.” Jason rubbed his eyes. “I'm tired of keeping secrets. I'm tired of worrying about what everyone else wants or expects me to be.”
The anger draining away, Kris's face softened as she looked on Jason. Lightly she stepped before him, taking his hands in hers and pulling him to his feet. Her wings swept around them as she embraced him. “I've missed my friend,” she told him, “but you scare me sometimes.”
“Sometimes, Kris, I scare myself.”
Turning towards the door, she said, “Go home. Rest. Doctor's orders. I'll take care of getting Emily signed out.”
Favors
Jason, Emily, Stacy and Angelique – Wednesday 2:58 A.M.
The sound of a key scraping against the lock preceded the door of the loft sliding open along its track. Light from the open door was reflected among the granules of sand cast across the floor like stars shining in the sea of night.
“Lights!”
Track lighting and overhead lamps flickered to life. Jason stepped aside allowing Emily and Stacy to precede him into the loft. The papers were still scattered across the floor by the desk. He took off his jacket and hung it on a rack by the door. Offering his assistance, soon both Emily's and Stacy's rested beside his.
“If you get hungry the fridge is fully stocked. There are two beds upstairs if you want to lay down. If you want a shower, the bathroom is through there.” He indicated, pointing past the kitchen. “There are some clothes in the wardrobes. I think Leah or Ash left some things that might fit.”
Emily reached up and pulled the letter opener from the remains of the heavy bag. “I'd fire the housekeeper, if I were you,” she said, looking up from the sand and papers scattered across the floor.
Jason gave her a wry smile. “The housekeeper was let go about a month before I bought the building.”
“No nubile young things chasing you around that are willing to clean up after you?” Emily asked.
Stacy knelt down and began shuffling the papers into a rough stack, oblivious to her mother's question. Emily and Jason each chuckled seeing her. Following the trail of papers, Stacy moved around the desk. Pieces of plastic and electronic components lay scattered on the floor before her. She looked up seeing the shattered remains of the monitor and chair.
“Jason,” she asked, “what happened to your TV?”
“Nothing, Stace. The TV is over there.” He pointed to the wall between twin fireplaces. “That was a computer monitor. The computer is in the desk.” Jason went into the kitchen.
“Okay… So, what happened to your monitor then?” She set the stack of papers on the desk.
“The desk chair hit it.” He came out of the kitchen with a broom and dust pan. Setting the dust pan aside, Jason pushed the broom creating a neat pile of sand.
“Jason!” Stacy yelled, the frustration evident in her voice.
The dust pan filled, Jason took it into the kitchen to dump it in the garbage. “Stace, there was a bad report that came across. I lost my temper. The chair and monitor got in the way. It’s no big deal.”
Stacy took the broom from where Jason left it and attacked the pile of sand. When Jason came back with the dust pan she pointed. “Leave it!”
Jason set the dust pan where she pointed and went back into the kitchen. “Are either of you hungry?”
“Yes,” Emily answered.
“Sure,” Stacy replied with a hint of aggravation.
Jason began scrounging through the refrigerator. He pulled out and set on the counter the makings for an omelet. Out of a cupboard a cheese grater was retrieved. From a hook a skillet was taken down and set on a burner. Emily took a seat from where she could watch the proceedings.
“What's it like to fly?”
Pausing, Jason looked up from dicing an onion. “There's an incredible sense of freedom. Except when there is an incredible sense of urgency.”
“How often does that happen?” she asked. She took the grater and began shredding the cheese.
“Honestly?” Jason scraped the onion into the skillet. “Just about every time I fly.” He opened the carton of eggs and took one out. He contemplated it for a moment before continuing. “There's always somewhere that I'm going or something that I have to do. Of all the things I can do, flying is the one thing that I enjoy the most.”
Emily watched as the last of carton was cracked into a bowl. “A bit much for just the three of us, isn't it?”
He smiled at her. “I don't know about you, but I've been going pretty much non-stop since I got up yesterday. Healing myself, or others, makes me hungry. Here.” He held his glowing hand to her and a deformed bullet fell to the counter. “The deformation is from where it hit the bone.”
Emily looked askance at the bullet. “Is that the one...?”
“That came out of you? Yes,” he answered her.
“I don't want it. Throw it away,” she whispered.
Jason took the bullet and dropped it amid the egg shells and sand. “How about this, then?” He held out his hand. Resting in his palm was a black stone with a red glowing star.
Emily took it from him. “Is this your mother's?”
Jason resumed mixing the ingredients for the omelet. “No, Aunt Em. Mom's was buried with her. That one is yours.”
Stacy moved behind Jason and dumped the dust pan in the trash. She noticed the stone lying in her mother's palm. “Ooh. Pretty! Do I get one?”
“Well, I seemed to have misplaced your birthday gift. Wait until after we eat. I'll get you one then. Okay?” he asked
Stacy squealed with excitement. “Yes! I mean, that'll be great!” She took the dust pan and went back to the pile of sand.
“Jason, why do you wear the costumes? You. Your friends. I really don't get it.”
He poured the mixture from the bowl into the skillet and set the bowl aside. “Each of us wears what we do for different reasons. The police have uniforms. We have ours. Some, whether you want to call them 'villains' or 'heroes' or just 'vigilantes', dress alike, being part of a team. The Guardians, when we started out, decided that looking alike wasn't going to work. Dove,” he looked at Emily, “Dr. Tyler needed to have her wings free so that she could fly. Lightning's boots are specially made so that the soles don't wear or melt.”
“What about yours? Yours has changed a number of times. The only thing constant with it is this.” She held the stone out to him. “The star burst. And the colors.”
“Yeah, Jase!” Stacy said. “What's up with those colors? I mean, is yellow really a 'manly' color?”
Jason sighed. “Sandy designed all the suits that I've worn and she chose the colors. I guess she got the idea for the star from her stone. Every design she made was yellow and orange. Except one. The main reason for the bright colors, to my mind at least, they make me a target. When Bolt or Bloodbath or one of the other bad guys does their thing, being a target for them keeps the police and bystanders safer than they would be otherwise.” He began folding the omelet.
The lights dimmed. Colors swirled through the air of the loft like a laser beam through smoke.
“Jason,” Stacy asked nervously, “what's happening?”
“Company. Looks like we might need another plate.” Jason opened up the cupboard and took down four plates. He cut the large omelet and set a portion on each plate.
Angelique appeared amid the swirling colors and stepped into the loft.
“Well, this looks almost domestic Jason.”
Jason carried two plates to the table. Emily took up the remaining two. She set the plates on the table as she took a seat.
“You're looking...” Jason began.
“Beautiful!” Stacy exclaimed.
Angelique favored Stacy with a smile, “Thank you, child.”
Stacy's face clouded. “I am not a child! I'm nineteen!”
Angelique laughed, the sound both melodious and friendly. “Pray, forgive me. I meant no offense.”
“Stacy,” said Jason, “your mother is a child where Angelique is concerned. Introductions. Angelique this is Emily and Stacy Deveraux.”
“So you're 'Aunt Emily'!” Angelique held out her hand to Emily, who took it.
Jason sat at the table. “Sit. Eat.” He took up his fork and did just that.
Angelique sat beside Jason across from Emily. Still staring at Angelique, Stacy took the last chair.
“When did you two first meet?” Emily asked.
Angelique smiled. “The first time? Eight years ago, wasn't it Jason?” Mouth full of omelet, Jason merely nodded. “I was looking into some business ventures. Some investments that didn't quite pay off properly.”
Emily looked a little puzzled. “How did you first meet?”
Jason gave an amused half-smile. “Our first actual meeting was my right fist to the left side of her jaw. I broke it, actually.”
Emily looked horrified. Stacy gasped out, “Jason!”
“It's quite alright, child,” Angelique stated. “We've come to terms with our past.”
“What could she have possibly been doing to justify that, Jason?” asked Emily.
Jason put his fork down. “Well, when we first met, Angelique was involving herself in a business venture. Let's just say that the business was a little on the shady side of the law. When we, the Guardians, managed to track down some leads from a different source it led us into conflict with Angel and her companions. She was in the process of casting a spell targeting Ash. I hit her on a flyby to stop her.”
Emily looked a little stunned. “Casting a spell...?”
“You're a witch?” Stacy blurted out.
Angelique's green eyes turned cold as she gazed upon Stacy. Her words and her tone encapsulating malevolence. “I prefer the term 'sorceress', child.”
Stacy's eyes dropped to her plate. Her fork picked at the omelet.
“How...?” Emily started.
Warmth having returned to her eyes, Angelique looked to Emily. “Yes?”
“How old are you?”
Jason stood, taking his and Emily's empty plates. “Okay. Anybody want anything else?”
Angelique looked amused as she answered Emily. “I will be one hundred and sixty-two in June.” She resumed eating.
Stacy got up from the table and carried her plate with her half-eaten omelet to Jason. “Is it okay if I take a shower? I'm not feeling so good now.”
Jason brushed some hair from Stacy's face. “Sure, Stace. I realize it can be a little unsettling the first time. I'll get you a change of clothes.”
Emily sat down on the couch in front of the TV. A game controller was moved to make room for her cup of coffee amid the clutter of drawing pads, pencils and game cases on the table before her. Waiting for Jason to return, Stacy joined her mother.
Returning with a small stack of clothing that he set on the arm of the couch, Jason said, “Music. Random.” The opening strains of Sarah Brightman's version of Queen's “Who Wants to Live Forever” came lightly from hidden speakers. He moved a stack of drawing materials from the table and sat on the cleared space. “Are you ready for this?” he asked Stacy. She looked at him a little confused. “Your stone?”
She brightened perceptibly. “Yes!”
Angelique came and stood beside Jason. “Do you need help?” she asked.
Jason looked at Stacy and then at Emily. “Probably. I don't think either of them is up to what needs to be done.”
“What needs to be done, Jason?” asked Emily.
Jason locked his eyes with Stacy's. “Do you trust me, Stace?” Biting her lower lip, she nodded. Jason held out his left hand to her. “Give me your hand.” She reached out. Jason took hold of the proffered hand, turning the palm up. “Do it,” he stated.
Angelique conjured a blade of mystic force. Before either Stacy or Emily could react, she sliced neatly across Stacy's upturned hand. Blood welling from the cut, Jason turned her hand to pour it into his cupped palm. The hand holding Stacy's began glowing and a twin of the cut Angelique had made appeared on Jason's hand, mixing their blood. His fingers curling over his palm, Jason's power played out between them. Her injury healed, he released the girl's hand. Under pressure from the force exerted on it the blood coalesced and became hard. Moments seemed like hours to him. The mixture in his hand formed a polished stone suitable for a necklace or a ring. Jason sighed as he held the stone out to Stacy.
“You've never done that for me,” Angelique said.
Jason gave her a look that was a mixture of annoyance and amusement. “Somehow I don't think your father would quite approve.” He stood and stretched.
Angelique looked at him with concern. “You're tired.”
“'The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep...'” he quoted.
“Frost was one of your mother's favorites,” said Emily. “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. Fourth stanza. I think I'll take a shower in the morning. I'm going to go to bed,” Emily said.
Stacy took half the stack of clothes and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Emily looked at the trefoil of the Klingon Empire on the shirt that Stacy left behind. “What is this?”
“Klingon hockey jersey,” he answered. “Ash preferred her sleeping clothes loose,”
She took the clothes and started for the stairs. “Is there a preference for where I sleep?”
He smiled at her. “You might want to take the bed with the door between there and here. I'm going to be a little busy and if noise bothers you...”
“That'll be fine. Good night, Jason. It was a pleasure to meet you Angelique.”
“Good night, Aunt Em,” Jason said.
“Good night, Emily. It was nice meeting you,” Angelique stated pleasurably.
Jason went to his desk, kicking a piece of plastic out of his way as he went. “I like her,” Angelique said. “I think I intimidate Stacy, though.”
“Well, you are over eight times older than her. Until tonight, who we are was something that she saw on the news or read about in a magazine.” He looked at the remains of his chair, groaned, and hung his head dejectedly.
“Let me get that for you.” Angelique began gesturing. Arcane power built up and released. The pieces of the chair and the monitor began re-knitting themselves. When finished, the chair rolled to its proper place behind the desk.
“Thank you.” Jason sat in the chair trusting in Angelique's magic. The flip of a switch brought his computer to life.
“So...,” Angelique sashayed around the desk and leaned against it. “What is the nature of this favor you need?”
Jason leaned the chair back while the computer booted up. “How involved is your father in Bauer's plan?”
She smiled as she folded her leg under herself and sat on the corner of the desk. The skirt of her blue evening dress pulled up when she placed her matching blue stiletto-heeled shoe on the armrest of his chair, revealing the top of her pale blue stocking. “I honestly have no idea.”
“Are any members of the Blood Guard going to be involved?” he asked her.
Brushing her fingers through her long blonde hair, she answered, “Some of them will be sent before the Guardians arrive. Warp will be the gateway.” She gave him a wistful smile. “You're back in the game. Analyzing. Planning.”
“Can you keep them out?”
“My father...” she began when he cut her off.
“Your father, when he gets over it, will find it a grand jest,” he said. The overhead monitor flickered to life, showing the image that was on it when it was previously destroyed. Angelique looked up at it.
“He hates you.”
Jason's fingers began moving over the keyboard. “The feeling is mutual.” He slotted a data stick into the open port. “Mentor!”
“Yes, Jason?” came the computerized voice from the system's speakers.
“I need you to gather whatever information you can about the area from the map. More than likely Ash has already asked you to do it. Tap into the military satellites. Get me whatever images you can of the island and surrounding environs. Make sure that information is available from the transport. Download simulation files WG 67, WG 102, and WG 120 through 133 to the data stick.”
“Yes, sir. Is there anything else I can do?”
Stacy came out of the bathroom, hair still damp from the shower, wearing a t-shirt with Darkwing Duck striking a heroic pose and a caption reading “Let's Get Dangerous!” She smiled at Jason. When she saw Angelique, she sat on the couch and took up her mother's coffee cup. Angelique gestured and spoke quietly. Stacy's head slid slowly over and came to rest on the arm of the couch. Jason gave Angelique a questioning look.
“A light sleep spell. Nothing more.”
He nodded to her. “No, Mentor. Although there is something you cannot do. You will not tell anyone of this. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Mentor responded.
“So,” Angelique asked, “what now?” As if in response Cheap Trick's “Gonna Raise Hell” started playing.
* * * * *
On a chessboard, an obsidian queen, lighted by the flickering light of a fire, moved forward of its own volition. The piece came to rest in a square harboring a crystal bishop.
* * * * *
Jason knelt before a chest at the foot of his bed rummaging through the contents; setting aside bundles of paper, a gun case, and smaller boxes containing odds and ends. Angelique lay supine across his bed watching him. She turned the gun case and opened it.
“I didn't think this was your style.”
He glanced up at her. “Guns? They aren't. That's the only one that I own. It belonged to my grandfather...” He paused as he uncovered a photograph of himself and Leah from better times. Leah was wearing an evening gown, he a tuxedo. She was laughing at some joke of Warren's. His hand on her waist, feeling the curve of her hip, the warmth...
The closing of the gun case snapped him out of his reverie. Jason turned the photo in its frame face down and set it aside in the chest. From the bottom he pulled out a black plastic box and set it on the bed. He took the gun case and flipped the top up. His hand brushed the barrel and the three speed loaders stored within.
Angelique slid the lid off the black box and looked at the contents it held. Pulling the fabric out she held up a black shirt with his star burst on it in red, and said, “Not your usual colors.”
“No. It isn't.” He closed the lid and set the empty gun case back in the chest. As Angelique folded the shirt, he lifted a box of bullets from the bottom of the chest. The box glowed red and disappeared. Putting everything except the black box back in, Jason replaced the lid on the chest.
Angelique set his tunic back in the box and moved it atop the chest. “Jason, do you trust me?”
He stood and stretched, the muscles popping in his back. A warm smile appeared on his face. “I trust you enough to let you weave a gateway into my home,” he said quietly. He turned in the direction of the stairs.
“Can I ask you something?” She stood. The slit in her gown left her leg exposed to his gaze. She turned slowly, facing the bed.
“Payment?” he asked her.
She looked back over her shoulder. “No. Just because I want to. Please?”
He stepped up to her. Jason's fingers caressed her back, moving slowly upwards. His lips moved over her exposed neck. His hands slid the gown off her shoulders leaving the silken dress to puddle around her ankles.
* * * * *
Angelique's head lay on his chest while her fingers traced along his muscles. “I've missed this.”
“Missed what? Someone you could have a repeat performance with?” His smile belied the seriousness of the statement.
She sat up on him, placing her foot on his shoulder. “They were fine when I left them. I never knew what happened,” anger heating her voice. “Knowing what happened before with anyone I was with, why did you?”
His fingers caressed her silken-clad leg. “Maybe I was hoping it would kill me,” Jason answered quietly. “As long as it doesn't happen again, it really isn’t a big deal. I hate dealing with the supernatural.”
She moved to get off him. “You need to get some sleep.”
Jason held her by the waist, refusing her. “Not just yet. When do you stop being 'Anton Darque's daughter' and start being your mother's daughter? Or maybe just be you?”
Angelique caressed his shoulder with her foot. “You know I don't know who my mother is.”
His hand cupped the side of her face. “That's just it, Angel. Without knowing who your mother is, do you think she'd be proud of what you are?”
Her foot snapped across Jason's face, drawing blood from a split lip that quickly healed. “I am my father's daughter!” she snarled.
His tongue cleared the blood from his lip. “But you don't have to be, Angel. You could be so much more. How many friends do you have?” She turned away from him, and tried once again to get up. Jason sat up, brushed her hair from her face and turned it gently towards his. “How many friends, Angel?”
“Two. Maybe...” she answered quietly. He kissed her gently. She stood, pulling herself free of him with no resistance. “You need to sleep.”
He caught her hand as she turned from him. “I trust you, Angelique.” He lay back down on his pillow and fell fast asleep. She looked down at the stone he had pressed into her palm. She began crying silent tears.
* * * * *
The obsidian queen spun in place alongside the crystal bishop before it vanished, leaving the bishop resting alone.
* * * * *
Jason awoke to darkness. Beyond his sight, at the corner of his vision, there was a violet light. Try as he might to capture it with his vision, it was elusive whenever he tried looking directly at the source of it. Sitting cross-legged on his chest at the foot of the bed was Angelique, naked except for her pale blue stockings. Mystical energy escaped from her eyes like wisps of violet smoke. He sat up in bed. Angelique did not move or respond. A circle consisting of mystic runes aflame with a violet light enclosed his bed.
“Angelique,” he spoke softly.
Her head lifted up and her eyes snapped open. Gone were the pupil and iris. Only the violet light was visible. She smiled warmly and she closed her eyes. The runes winked out of existence. The light in the room returned to what he was used to.
He arose from the bed throwing back the covers. Angelique watched him as he crossed the room to the dresser. With gym shorts pulled from the drawer in hand Jason turned, noticing Angelique watching him. “How long did I sleep?”
She smiled teasingly. “Twelve hours. Or maybe two.” She stood on the chest as he drew near to her. “Hmm. I'm taller than you now. I kind of like looking down on you.” She placed a hand on his shoulder to steady herself.
“How long did I sleep?” He put his hand on her hip as she leaned closer to him.
Her leg lifted and she slid it behind him, wrapping it around his waist. She dropped herself into him, trusting Jason to catch her. Her arms went around his neck as she settled into his arms. “You slept for about eleven and a half hours. I cast a ritual that expanded time. While you slept for almost twelve hours, less than two hours actually passed.” She kissed him passionately. She laughed, releasing her leg's grip and slid down.
Angelique sat on the bed and pulled herself across it, reclining back on her elbows. Her eyes were alight with amusement when she noticed the effect she had had on him. He pulled on the shorts.
“Are you going to get dressed?” he asked her.
She bent one leg at the knee, revealing more of herself. “I like being naked around you.”
He lifted her silk gown from the floor. He smiled at her playfulness. A crimson glow surrounded the blue silk in his hand. Jason turned and stepped into the open air of the loft. He flew down coming to rest beside the desk.
“Connect. Kris.”
The computer flickered to life. The line connected. An image of Kris appeared on the monitor.
“Jason. I can't say I expected this. What's up?”
“I thought it over. I'm in.”
“You have,” her eyes flitted away from the monitor and back, “less than an hour before the team leaves.”
“Alright. I'll be there as soon as I can.” He reached to shut down the connection.
“Jason.”
He sat back in the chair. “Yes, Kris?”
“I've got a problem. Seeing as Scott made the transport I'm kind of hoping you can help me out. Long fell down a flight of stairs last night. He suffered a compound fracture of the femur.”
Jason rocked the chair back. “You want me to heal him?”
Kris looked shocked at the suggestion. “No! Oh god, no, Jason! This isn't like last night with Emily. Long will be fine. In time. I noticed last night, I wish I had been able to actually monitor you when you did that, but I noticed that you didn't heal as fast. There seems to be a lag time between the injury and your healing factor kicking in when you take on someone else's injury. All I was wondering is if you have a pilot available capable of flying the transport.”
Jason looked thoughtful as he tapped his bottom lip with a finger. “Don't you have a backup?”
Kris smiled. “Long is the backup. Our primary is on paternity leave. Campbell's wife gave birth to a daughter last week. You know how Dan is about calling people in off of leave. Especially when it involves family. That's why I'm looking for other possibilities. Do you have someone available?”
“Give me a minute, Kris. Connect. Scott Enterprises. Long Island. Dormitory. Roan Shepperly.”
The phone rang twice before the connection went through.
“The hell? Jason? Do you have any idea what time it is?” Roan's voice was thick with sleep.
“Good morning, Roan. It is 6:18 in the morning. While I realize that normally you wouldn't be awake for at least another couple of hours, your services are needed. This is Dr. Tyler. She works at River General Hospital here in New York. She also works with Project Wildfire.”
Roan rubbed sleep from her eyes and focused on the monitor. “Dr. Tyler. What can I do for you?”
“Miss Shepperly, I need a good pilot qualified to fly an SE331X for a medical mission,” Kris told her.
“Three-thirty-one X? I've never heard of it. Much less being qualified to fly it,” Roan said.
“Roan,” Jason said, “there are ten of them, effectively. Wildfire has four of them. The Guardians have two. Two were modified to Dr. Tyler's specifications. One of them is warehoused unfinished to replace any of the other nine as needed. The last one...”
“The Executive Priority Transport,” Roan said
Jason smiled, “was modified into a flying limousine for the head of Scott Enterprises. You are fully qualified. Dr. Tyler will take care of the necessary requirements. There will be a detached service bonus for the flight, Roan. Thank you.”
“Understood, sir. Thank you.”
“I'll leave you two to make your arrangements,” Jason said. “I have a few things to do this morning. Goodbye.” The computer removed him from the conference call automatically. “Mentor.”
“Yes, sir?” the synthesized voice came from the desk.
“Take care of the necessary paperwork for Roan's bonus over my signature. Make it fifteen hundred on top of standard flight-time pay.” Angelique sat on the desk. “Also, prepare a recommendation for her in the event that she wishes to transfer, also over my signature.”
“Yes, sir. All the requested files have been transferred and are ready. Anything further, sir?” Mentor asked.
Angelique rested her foot on Jason's leg. He caressed her ankle. “No, Mentor. That's all I can think of. Thank you.” He pulled the data stick free from the port.
Angelique watched Jason with a bemused smile, enjoying the feeling of his fingers on her leg. “I'll talk with Charley. There may be other restrictions or considerations, but I'll see about keeping the Guard out of your way. I can't promise anything.”
He looked up at her with a half-smile. His eyes slid past her to a daisho resting on an ornamental stand high on a shelf. He stood, kissed Angelique lightly, and walked to the shelf. Reaching up, he took down the katana. The kashira carved in the likeness of a roaring tiger. The ivory tsuka wrapped with a black silk cord.
“Wasn’t that White Tiger’s?” Angelique asked him.
“Yes. He gave it to me shortly before Leah and I started dating. Someone poisoned the blade. The poison retarded my healing factor.” He pulled the sword a few inches free of the sheath.
Angelique walked up behind him. “That explains why he tried killing Black Jack. He would have succeeded if father hadn’t insisted that Black Jack live.” Her gaze took in the blade. “I think that was truly the beginning of the end of Kaneda’s service to my father.”
“I need to get going.” He turned to face her. “Thank you.” He kissed her forehead. A step away from her, a crimson light, and he stood orange star burst on his chest, his mask in his grip. He looked down on Stacy asleep on the couch.
“I’ll watch them until you get back,” Angelique told him. He nodded to her as he pulled the orange mask over his head. The skylight above opened to the early morning sun. His feet left the floor. Pulsar flew up, out, and was gone.
Anton Darque stood by the fireplace in his study gazing into the flames, a brandy snifter in hand. Above the mantelpiece was a painted portrait of his daughter, Angelique. Behind him, two comfortable chairs sat upon either side of an over-sized chess board. The pieces, carved of obsidian and crystal, showed a game in progress. Standing beside each chair was a small round table. Upon one rested another snifter and an ashtray holding a small, thin cigar that gave off a winding wisp of smoke.
Anton’s unruly mane of dark hair and full beard belied his true age. Two streaks of white, one on either side of his chin, showed the only discoloration. His clothing marked another time, clothing today seen mostly at Renaissance Festivals or, perhaps, the Shakespearean Stage.
The one side of the tall double doors to the study opened. A slightly built woman entered and spoke. “My lord…” she began, when Steven Bauer pushed past her and entered into the study.
“Anton, you requested my presence?” he asked.
A flicker of annoyance crossed Anton’s face, unseen by Steven. The woman was about to seize him by the collar when Anton spoke.
“Leave us.”
The woman bowed and closed the door quietly, leaving the two of them alone in the study. Steven crossed the space to the bar and poured himself a drink.
“How progress your plans, Steven?” Anton turned his back to the fire. The shadows cast by the light making his frame seem much larger. The large ruby ring on his left hand seemed to draw in the light and glow from within.
Steven took a swig from his glass. The liquor burned as it went down.
“Everything is progressing according to plan, Anton. Once the information makes its way through channels to Scott, it will be far too late for him to interfere. Then it will be a simple matter for me to eliminate him.” He lifted his glass to take another drink when a sickly yellowish-green force slammed into him, lifting him, and pinning him spreadeagled against the wall. His glass shattered on the floor and the fluid once contained within made a small puddle.
“You forget yourself, Bauer! You are not my equal!” Anton stepped forward and lifted an obsidian piece from the sideboard of the game. “You are but a simple pawn! Your plans will not interfere with mine own! Do I make myself clear?”
Agony shooting through him, Steven responded. “Yes, Lord Darque!”
“Your plans progressed too slowly, Steven. Your time with your plaything distracted you from your goal.” Anton lowered his hand and the glow faded from around Steven, dropping him to the floor. Steven, laying prostrate, lifted his head.
“She wasn’t too bright. We force-fed her the information.” Steven pulled himself up to his knees slowly. Anton lifted his hand when Steven sought to pull himself to his feet. Steven remained on his knees.
“Do not underestimate Miss Capwell’s intelligence. She may not have your knowledge, Steven, but I’d wager her intelligence vastly exceeds your own. If you manage to survive this, you may find yourself crossing the board and being promoted, but until that time you are still just a pawn in this game.” Anton replaced the pawn on the sideboard beside the queen, a tic of his eye the only indication of his annoyance.
“Lord Darque, I’ve been trying to contact Spears. To find out what has happened and what information that Scott may already have.”
Anton looked over the chess board and moved a knight forward, threatening the white queen. “Spears was becoming troublesome. I had Cheapshot remove him from the board last year.”
“But…” Steven began.
“Enough! You will find that your plans have progressed further than you thought. The Guardians will be on your doorstep this afternoon. I would suggest that you return to that island you’ve been hiding on and prepare to greet your guests properly.”
The door opened and the woman stepped back inside the study. Steven got to his feet and backed out of the room. The woman bowed again, closing the door behind her. Anton noted the hand prints burned into the paneling of the wall and smiled.
“And the game continues, old friend,” an aged masculine voice spoke. A blue corona lifted the crystal shards from the floor and began finding their place, rebuilding the tumbler that had been dropped.
“Yes,” Anton replied, “the game continues. You’ll find your queen in danger.”
The crystal tumbler settled itself back on the bar and the light faded out. With a wink and a smile the man resumed his seat. “You’ll find, Lord Darque, that my queen is more than capable of protecting herself.” The man lifted his cigar and the brandy snifter, and took a drink. Anton settled himself across the chess board and placed his booted foot upon the edge of the table.
A Funny Thing Happened On the Way
The Guardians – Wednesday 6:45 A.M.
“Did anyone see Kris this morning?” Hellfire asked as she locked her harness into place.
Lightning flipped switches and checked gauges and monitors from the pilot's seat. “No. Apparently Medical is having personnel issues. Seems their pilot slipped down a flight of stairs last night and broke his leg. The backup pilot is on family leave. Kris is trying to find someone qualified to fly the medical transport.”
Sitting in the co-pilot's seat, Ash pulled her harness around her and locked it into place. Lifting a headset from where it lay on the control panel she put it on and pulled the microphone down and into place. “Everyone on board and locked in.”
Looking up from the sensor arrays, Psistorm said, “Not yet. Brad isn't on yet. Leah is in the back helping Warstar.”
“Thanks, Trese, but I wasn't asking. Tell Nightwing to get his ass on board now or he can fly himself and he damned well better keep up if he does!” Ash turned to Lightning. “How you doing?”
“I'm okay, Ash. I was up kind of late talking to Kate.”
“How is she doing?” she asked him.
Lightning turned to Ash and gave her a half smile. “Worried. As usual. Even knowing Leah as long as she has and getting to know the rest of us, she still feels like an outsider. Not really a part of the team. No powers.”
“Sometimes, Warren, I feel she's the lucky one.”
“No, Ash. I'm the lucky one.”
Ash smiled, reached over and gave a light squeeze to Lightning's arm. “I wasn't meaning that. I was saying she's the lucky one, not having any powers.”
Leah's voice came through the headset. “Nightwing is on and strapped in.”
“Okay. Thanks, Leah. Lightning, light it up.”
The plane began to vibrate as the engines came to life. Lightning pulled the flight yoke and tested the control surfaces. The roof of Guardian's Tower divided, lowered and pulled back leaving the Guardian's transport exposed to the early morning sun as the elevator raised it up.
“Flight control, this is Lightning,” he said. “Alpha One priority.”
“Lightning, this is flight control. Alpha One priority confirmed. Flight path confirmed. Launch when ready. Clear skies, Guardians,” came a rather sultry female voice from the headsets.
“Thank you, Control.”
The engines began rumbling as they pushed the jet up into the sky. The nose swung south, towards Brooklyn and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. The belly thrusters closed and diverted the engine's thrust. The transport accelerated forward and climbed higher.
“Onboard, set for cruise and assume control,” Lightning said.
“Unable to comply. Please stand by,” the computer responded in a female voice.
Dove's face appeared on a monitor. “Lightning, assume station keeping and prepare to open the belly hatch. You guys have some help coming on board.”
“Understood, Kris. Station keeping engaged.”
“Kris,” Ash asked, “what happened to your face?”
Dove smiled. “I'll tell you about it when you get back. I've a pilot to clear. We should be about two hours behind you. Dove out.” The monitor went dark.
“Well,” Lightning asked, “any ideas on whom the 'help' is?”
Theresa, excitement apparent in her voice, answered, “It's Jason! I've got a sensor reading. Onboard confirms. Estimate on intercept is three minutes.”
“What's going on?” Nightwing’s voice demanded through the comm system. “Why'd we stop?”
“This is your captain speaking,” Lightning replied, “We are currently at station keeping awaiting pizza delivery. We will resume travel in approximately five minutes. Thank you for choosing Lightning Air.”
Ash looked at Lightning with a bit of humor on her face, and said, “We're picking up some last minute assistance, Nightwing. Keep the comm clear unless it is an emergency.” With the press of a button on her headset, she keyed out of the ship's public address system. “Pizza?”
“I'll get the door for him.” Hellfire released her harness and moved through the open hatch, towards the back. Wind whistled as the skin of the transport split open underneath. The bay doors swung downward. The traffic on the city streets below was easily visible.
Pulsar flew up through the bay doors and hung suspended. The slim blonde toggled the switch to close the doors. When the doors closed he settled to the deck.
“What? No pizza?” she asked. She flipped a strand of hair over her shoulder.
“A little early in the morning for pizza, isn't it?” Pulsar responded. “Who's up front?”
“Lightning's flying, Ash is in second, and Trese is on sensors.”
Pulsar moved forward. “I'm going to need the comp station, so I can get up to speed on the battle plan.”
Hellfire moved towards the rear and put a hand on Pulsar's shoulder as she passed him. “Welcome home.”
Entering the forward cabin, Pulsar sat in the seat vacated by Hellfire. Ash turned her seat and watched him lock the harness.
“What changed your mind?” she asked him.
Fingers moving across the keyboard, Pulsar looked at Ash. “I had a couple of long talks with some old friends.”
“I heard you had a busy night,” Psistorm said.
“Very eventful,” he replied. “Spent far too much time in the hospital for my liking.”
From the pilot's seat Lighting asked, “How is Emily?”
“Emily and Stacy are staying at the loft until their apartment gets cleaned up. Apparently Dick is living in his office these days,” Pulsar replied. “Emily is in better shape right now than she was before she got shot.”
The transport began accelerating forward again. “Onboard, set for cruise and assume control,” Lightning said. “ETA ten hours. We'll be doing a sub-orbital parabolic arc.” Lightning turned his seat around to face Pulsar. “Funny you should say 'better shape.' Have you seen Kris?”
Pulsar glanced up from the monitor. “She looked fine last time I saw her.” He looked back down at the monitor. “Dog soldiers, Black Jack, Bludgeon, Bolt, FIST, Inferno... What the hell is this? The complete list of Blood Guard members?”
“Yeah. Pretty much all we can assume at this point,” Ash said. “We figure various mercenaries would offer services. With the relationship between Darque and Madacar being what it is, a safe assumption is that the Blood Guard is available to Bauer. Figure there may be grunts, which is why the dog soldiers are listed. Bauer may have hired one or two nests of Viper's, as well.”
Pulsar tapped a few more keys. “Basically you are saying is that intel on this is garbage and we're going in blind. Eight of us against... What? Upwards of twenty-five possible capes, just counting the Guard. Not including any possible from Viper. What is the plan? Ringing the doorbell and tell them we're selling Avon?”
“Jason!” Ash chided angrily. “There isn't a lot to go on. We're doing the best we can with what we have.”
“Yeah, Jase,” Lightning said, “besides we've always managed to come out on top no matter what the bad guys threw at us.”
“All right. Give me some time to see what I can come up with. I might be able to come up with a little bit more.” Pulsar picked up the headset and put it on. Orange gloved fingers began moving over the controls. Data began streaming across his monitors.
* * * * *
Trese spoke into her microphone, “What's up…? Can't...? Sure. I'll help. Not a problem.” She released her harness and stood. “I'm going into the galley. Since the pizza delivery was a bust we're stuck with MREs or sandwiches. Anybody want something?”
Lightning turned from the controls. “Sure. Sandwich is fine by me,” he said.
“Sounds good, Trese,” Ash answered her.
“I'd let you take care of lunch detail, Ash,” Trese stated, “but I wouldn't want you using it as a payoff on our bet.” She laughed.
Ash turned her seat to face Theresa. “I would never do such a thing!” Mock innocence apparent in her voice and the look she gave.
Laughing, Theresa laid her hand on Pulsar's shoulder. “Jase, you want anything?”
“No. I'm fine, Trese. Thanks,” he answered her without looking up. She moved through the hatch, heading back towards the galley.
Pulsar opened a compartment in the console. There was a small crimson flash as the data stick appeared in his fingers. He slotted it, noting the spark and small puff of smoke as the first program took effect. He closed the compartment, sealing the data stick within.
On a secondary monitor with a blinking cursor the words “WG 127 150 m” appeared. Below that the computer responded with “Parameters?” Glowing phosphor letters spelled out “Cancel on deploy. Autopilot command sequence override: JS001A. Auto-engage deploy plus fifteen seconds. Lock.” The monitor resumed the previous display that showed a map of their destination. The program counted down the miles.
Moments later, Leah entered the flight deck with a tray of sandwiches and coffee. “I've got a roast beef on rye, and a ham and Swiss. Sorry, Warren, but Warstar got all the peanut butter and jelly. All ten of them.”
“It figures. He always gets preferential treatment!” Warren turned away from the controls to face Leah. “I'll take the ham. Thank you,” he said as she handed him the sandwich and a cup of coffee.
Leah handed the remaining sandwich and cup over to Ash. She looked out through the windscreen. “Anything interesting out there?” she asked.
“Saw a couple of whales several hundred miles ago,” Ash responded. “Other than that, a couple of planes, a few ocean freighters, lots of water, and some clouds.” Ash gave Leah something of a smile and nodded her head towards Pulsar.
Leah closed her eyes and nodded. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment before releasing it almost like a sigh. She took the seat at the sensor console. Her gaze took in the readings. Nothing threatening appeared on the screens.
“Jason,” she turned to him. “You said we could talk.” Ash and Lightning turned their attention to the controls, giving these friends and former lovers some semblance of privacy.
“Six hours to make up your mind?” he asked.
Leah turned towards Pulsar. “I was talking with Dani,” she told him. “And Brad.”
Pulsar's attention remained on the monitors. “That's nice.” He watched the counter shrink as they neared their destination.
“I was wondering,” she said, “about your relationship with Angelique.”
“Keep wondering. I don't see as it is any of your business,” he replied brusquely.
“Okay.” Leah tried keeping the disappointment out of her voice. “Why didn't you ever tell me about your stones?”
“What about them?” he asked noncommittally.
“Jason, dammit! Look at me! And don't answer questions with questions!” Pulsar turned his head to look at Leah. Calming herself from her outburst, she asked, “Take off your mask, please?” A flash of power and his mask was gone. Leah gasped in surprise seeing his eyes glowing with power.
“There's been a few changes,” was all he said.
“I noticed that before.” Leah took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Why didn't you tell me about the stones? And what you can do with them?”
“Leah, I can't do anything with the stones. All they are is a representation. A physical manifestation of a kind of link,” he told her.
Leah sighed. “You knew about Steven and I. You broke my stone.”
Pulsar turned back to his monitor. “Did I? Or did you? As for you and Steven, Leah, I'm not psychic. Empathic, maybe. I knew what you had done. I didn't know who he was. Not like you left me with any reason to care.” The counter became smaller in number. “It could have been Brad, for all I care.”
“What the hell is it between you two, anyways?” she asked.
“Why don't you ask him?” he asked her quietly.
“I did!” she exclaimed. “He didn't answer me.”
Pulsar glanced at the monitor taking note of the distance. He reached back and pressed a button. The hatch settled into place closing off the cockpit from the rest of the transport. “You want to know what the problem is? Brad Michaels is an arrogant, conceited ass. He is a classic jock. Everything, and I mean everything, is a god damned competition to him! From the moment he joined this team, he fixated on me. Basically creating a competition between the two of us.
“You want to know what's between the two of us? Look into a mirror sometime.”
Leah looked shocked. “Jason, I never did anything to make him think I was interested.”
“Really? How about the Christmas party before you left?” he asked her.
Thinking back, trying to recall what he was asking, Leah answered, “Jason, that was different. All that was was a kiss between friends under the mistletoe.”
“Really?” He looked at her. “Then why didn't you tell me? Why did Brad wait until I was out of sight before he did it?”
“How...? The stones,” answering her own question.
“Yeah, Leah,” he responded quietly. “The stones. Warren is agitated. Ash is feeling a little embarrassed. Dani and Trese are amused. Kate is a little uncomfortable and trying to sleep. Kris is asleep. Marlene has a headache.”
“What about Brad or Warstar?” she asked.
Pulsar made a sound like a mixture of a snort and a short laugh. “As soon as you get blood out of Warstar, I'll make him one. There's no way in hell I want that other prick in my head constantly.”
“I didn't know. You never told me what it was. You just gave me the ring,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“I gave you more than that, Leah.” Pulsar's fingers moved across the controls making adjustments. “I trusted you.”
She spoke quietly. “I was working, Jason. Max Spears...”
“Maxwell Spears was dirty! Had you asked any of us before you took off on this 'mission' we'd have told you!” Pulsar exclaimed. “Spears was playing both sides. Dan knew he was dirty, Leah. When you find someone looking for information, and he doesn't know that you know, you feed him information and use that to figure out who is on the other end. In this case, Spears was gathering information either for Madacar or Bauer. The only problem is, Spears worked for Darque. Anton isn't particularly fond of sharing. Especially if the information he is getting is useful in giving him an advantage. He doesn't believe in equals, Leah. You know that. You either work for him or you're an enemy. His alliances are always temporary and usually end quite painfully for his 'ally.'”
Leah glanced over the sensor readings. “Spears didn't want me to contact anyone once I agreed to the job.”
“And what, exactly, did Spears expect you to do for this 'job'? I mean besides being Bauer's whore.”
“Jason, it wasn't like that! I didn't mean for it to happen.”
Pulsar raised an eyebrow looking at her. “When a walking, talking taser doesn't mean for something to happen, you'd think she'd actually be able to stop it. Especially when the other person is normal. So, let me ask you: why did any of it happen at all?”
Leah looked at him. “What do you want, Jason?”
“Maybe, Leah, I want the dinner we had planned that you weren't in town for. Maybe I want to wake up in the morning beside the woman I love.”
The counter hit one hundred fifty miles from the island that was their destination. For a brief moment the words “WG 127 active” flashed on one of Pulsar's secondary monitors. A warning beep sounded from the sensor console. Leah grabbed the headset and put it on. Her fingers began pressing buttons.
Lightning flipped the switch to return to manual control. “Leah, we're lit up by a designator! Jam it!”
The beep increased in tempo. “Too late, Lightning! They've got a lock on to us!” She made adjustments to her controls. “They've fired! Missile is closing!”
“Strap in, guys!” Ashleigh barked into the comm.
Leah spared a glance at Jason and noted his mask was back in place. Just a word, Jason, please. Just reach over and touch me. Tell me that it will be okay. “Lightning, war book says it's a clipper!”
Ash looked up at the data feed coming from Leah's station. “Damn. What's it locked on to? The engines? One of us?”
“Unknown! Missile is closing!”
Lightning threw the transport into a barrel roll in an attempt to avoid the clipper. “Leah, drop flares!”
“Flares away!” she called back. “No good! It isn't heat seeking.”
Lightning leveled out the transport and throttled up. “That takes Dani off the hook!”
Pulsar slammed the quick release on his harness and stood up, bracing himself against the bulkhead. “Nightwing, drop tube one. Point defense.” He took the headset off, dropping it onto the console. He thumbed the release for the hatch. Moving through it he noted that the light for drop tube one was red. He glanced over his shoulder at the ship's system display. Nightwing’s icon was seated within drop tube one. Pulsar moved into the second drop tube.
Psistorm was moving forward towards the cockpit as the door for drop tube two closed. “No! That's all wrong!”
Leah grabbed for Psistorm when she lost her balance from Lightning pulling them into a turn to avoid the missile. The straps of her harness pressed into her chest. Psistorm managed to get a hold on the vacant seat and pulled herself into it.
Ash pressed two lit indicators in sequence. “Chaff released!”
Psistorm fought her harness into place. “That's wrong! Leah tell Brad to get out of the drop tube!”
“Trese!” Ash barked, “talk to me!”
Psistorm knocked the headset out of her reach reaching for it. “Standard flying point defense! Blasters only! Nightwing is useless out there!” Psistorm's eyes glowed purple. The headset snapped into her hand. “It should be Hellfire or Sparx in one!”
“Chaff didn't work,” Leah stated. Her voice calm, belying how she truly felt.
Psistorm pressed the indicator to release the door of drop tube one. “Tube one is non-responsive to door control!”
The sound of a small explosion came from drop tube two. The transport rocked when the drop pod blew out and downward. Almost immediately the warning alarm silenced and the missile disappeared from the sensor displays leaving the icon for Pulsar alone, flying south.
“Board is clear from threats,” Leah said.
Lightning throttled back the speed. “What just happened?” he asked.
Psistorm looked over the monitors. “We're a lot closer than we should be.”
The transport's belly thrusters opened. The engine throttled up to full power of its own volition. The ship moved upwards. Each passenger was forced deeper into their seat from the effect. The nose slowly swung north. The thrusters closed, sending the ship back the way it had come.
“Onboard non-responsive,” Lightning said. “Autopilot refuses to disengage. What the hell is going on?”
As if in response, the sound of Nightwing banging on drop tube one echoed through the ship.
“I want to apologize for the rough ride.” Jason's voice came from the pubic address. “I wish there had been another way, but I don't think many of you would have listened if I told you that none of this was your concern.”
“Jason, what is going on?” Ash asked.
“I can only assume, Leah, that at some point you finally worked up the nerve to talk to me. I can't know what we'll say, but my responses to you, more than likely, were short. Almost hostile.”
'Save it, Ash,” Psistorm said. “It's a recording.” Her fingers moved confidently across the keyboard.
“I've never dealt well with loss, Leah. In this life that we are forced into it seems that everything is a wheel turning within another wheel. We never know when any given wheel starts spinning.”
“Dani, I need you up here!” Psistorm barked into her microphone.
“Sometimes we get to a point where we find the people we love set against us. When that happens people like Anton laugh at the joke. Spears played you, Leah. You became a spoke on a wheel that started turning a long time ago.”
Dani entered the flight deck. “What do we have?” she asked Psistorm. “Leah, I need your seat.”
“The wheel is an assumption on my part. I know things, Leah. Maybe I should have stayed for the meeting.”
Leah released her harness and gave the seat to Hellfire. Not bothering to fasten the harness she began working the controls.
“Wildfire... Huntress, they're looking for links in a chain. They're trying to find history. Bauer's history. He doesn't appear in any records before five years ago when he started working for Madacar.”
Psistorm glanced up to an overhead monitor. “...the hell? History is showing that a 'WG' file ran. What the hell is a 'WG' file?”
Hellfire shifted to look up at Psistorm's monitor. “That's Jason's programming shorthand. It's a war game file.” She shifted back looking at the diagnostics running across her own monitors.
“I don't need the chain. I know where it started.”
“War game file for what?” Psistorm asked. “I didn't think Jason was much for war games.”
“This plan, this wheel and the circumstances surrounding all of us, I'm sorry. I figured this would be a better way.”
Ash turned to look at Psistorm. “War game files are training files. I'd have to check the directory, but what we just went through, I'd have to say something from the one-twenties or one-thirties files. Flight threats.”
“This matter is personal to me. Leah, you were used. I'm sorry that circumstances led to this. You were already prepped for flight. It would have taken me too long to make other arrangements to come on my own. You all would arrive before me. Please, everyone, just go home. This is no one else's concern.”
Hellfire said, “We've got a program running. Nonstandard. Program originated from data port H.”
Psistorm opened the data port bay. Reaching in she attempted to remove the data stick. “No good. The damn thing is stuck!”
“I was forced... That isn't accurate. I felt compelled to do what I have done. I set my own wheel spinning to counter his.”
Ash arose from her chair and moved past Psistorm. “Let me try.” Psistorm moved her hand out of the way and Ash took hold of the data stick. There was a loud snap as she removed the data stick. “There.”
“'His' who, Jason?” Leah whispered.
Ash tossed the data stick to the top of the console. She moved through the hatch and hit the manual release for drop tube one. The door released and she pushed it open.
“What happened?” Nightwing snarled.
“It has to be this way,” Jason continued. “I need it to be this way. Where I go no heroes walk.”
“Damn!” Ashleigh cursed.
Charcoal boots stepped heavily on the deck. Nightwing followed Ash into the already crowded flight deck. “What's the problem?” he asked. “If the pansy doesn't want us along, let's just go home.”
Ash slid back into her seat. “Girls, I don't care what you have to do, but get manual control restored.” She pressed a button on her headset to activate the radio. “Medical One. Medical One. This is the Guardians. Respond. Come in, Dove.”
Hellfire watched as each system affected by the program was marked off on the ship's systems display. “Ash, the radio transmitter is out. Onboard is compromised.”
Ash lifted both fists in frustration, but held herself in check before she brought them down and destroyed the control panel. “What still works?”
Psistorm began rattling off the still functional systems. “Galley. Head. Autopilot. Life support.”
Nightwing checked the time. “Let's just head back to the tower. It'll be early enough that some of us can still go out. Scott doesn't want us here anyways.”
“Running away from a fight, Michaels?” Lightning tossed over his shoulder.
“What's your problem, Warren?”
In a blink Lightning was out of his seat glaring across the console at Nightwing. “What my problem is, Brad, is my friend, my brother is out there alone needing help! What my problem is, is that I finally have some inkling about what his problem is with you! You want to be a part of this team, then be part of this team. No glory plays. The quarterback isn't going to run the ball across the goal line. Time to pass, Brad, and show that there is a team.”
Pulling himself up, chest pushed out, Nightwing looked down on Lightning. “You don't have any call saying that to me, Asher,” he said.
“Don't I?” Lightning responded.
“You know something, don't you?” Psistorm asked.
Lightning returned to his seat. “I don't know anything. I have my suspicions. Jason isn't much for grand speeches or pep talks,” he said. “Anything he says, there's a reason. Particularly when his head is fully in the game.”
Ash watched the diagnostics run. “The last time he mentioned anything like this 'no heroes walk' bullshit was the day he dropped a nuke on Warmonger.”
Leah looked shocked. “What do you think he's going to do?”
“On a guess, Pretty Lady,” Lightning stated, “I'd say that he plans on killing your boyfriend.”
Landfall
Pulsar and Charley
Pulsar flew low over the waves as he closed on the island. The water below was a clear vibrant blue. Schools of fish were visible beneath the waves. The sand of the beach was white. Leaves of palm trees were gently waving in the breeze. A lone woman, obviously athletic and well proportioned, lay nude beneath the sun.
He swung low towards the woman. A violet nimbus limned his form, choking out the crimson of his power. His landing was less than graceful as his body skipped across the sand. He stopped, coming to rest near the woman's feet.
Charlemagne Bascomb got to her feet. She took hold of Pulsar's form by the back of his shirt, lifting him as she stood.
“Well, Jason, this isn't exactly how I expected this meeting to take place. What the hell are you wearing? Black isn't your color unless you're wearing a tux.” She set Pulsar down on his feet. “You're going to broil if you're planning on trekking through the jungle dressed like that.”
Pulsar pulled off his mask spitting sand.
“Charley,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers, “you look good.”
She laughed. “You're about the only guy I know that can look me in the eye when I'm not wearing anything.”
Pulsar shrugged. “I've seen you naked before. While impressive and enjoyable to admire, I know that it doesn't do anything for you. I'm not one to arm wrestle when it might mean getting my arm ripped off.”
She gave him a bemused smile. “You'd heal.”
“Eventually.” He turned to look out to sea. “Doesn't mean I'd enjoy it.”
Charley pulled a leather thong with a small amethyst eight-pointed star from her dirty-blonde hair and shook it loose. “If I thought I could handle a man, I'd want it to be someone like you. Leah, on the other hand, I always thought she'd be fun.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, looking for a reaction.
“Where's Bauer?” was all he asked.
She ran her fingers through her hair. “Rules are that you wear this.” She handed him the charm. His costume disappeared, leaving him dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a blue silk button-down. He tied the thong behind his neck. “While you're wearing that outside the dome, you won't have access to any of your powers.”
Jason lifted his hand and pointed out over the water. Nothing happened. “Okay. What else?”
“So long as it is only you here, the Blood Guard stays out of it. If the Guardians show up, we'll be here. Anton doesn't know about this. I don't think he'll be happy about it when he finds out.” She took cut-off jeans out of a bag and pulled them on. “There are packs roaming the island.”
Jason turned and watched her pull on a tank top that barely covered her breasts. “Anything else I need to worry about?”
Charley looked down on Jason as she crossed her arms. “No. Bauer figured the Guard would be enough with packs of dog soldiers for support. You power up and Warmonger's sensors will let Steven know. Might even let him know it's you. I'm not sure how much information is in the data-banks.”
“You're good people, Charley. When are you going to come over?” he asked. “You're about the only one now that isn't with Darque out of fear.”
She bent over and took up her towel. She made a show of shaking the sand off before folding it up and placing in her bag.
“When Angel does, Jason. I don't work for Anton. I work for Angelique.” She put on sunglasses and began walking down the beach. “Bauer is in the dome. Remember what I told you.”
Jason moved off the beach and into the foliage.