Blackjack Messiah

by Ben Bequer

  “And if I can’t?”

  “Then you get benched and the whole thing gets reevaluated.”

  My face screwed up in a scowl, my hands clenching and unclenching in front of me. Putting a hand on my forearm, Nina said, “Take all the frustration and do something constructive with it. Nobody gets this chance, Blackjack. Don’t fritter it away being proud.”

  Moving my arm from under her hand, I stood. “I’ll try. I need a new bow though. Mine is already trashed.”

  “Talk to Roy when he wakes up. And be nice.”

  “Hey, I’m nice.”

  “Be nicer than what you think of as being nice. And remember monitor duty at six tonight. Be on time, you’re relieving me.”

  “Are you back on duty? I thought you’d be laid up for a few more days at least.”

  “I heal fast. Concussion was resolved by the time I left the hospital.”

  “I heard you were leaving me for a fancy doctor.”

  “What can I say? He’s never been to jail.”

  “That you know of.”

  “Well, if he is a secret criminal mastermind, I’ll just kick his ass.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  A Surprise Visit

  I spent the rest of the day tooling around the firehouse. There was a washroom, and of the many benefits of the suit Superdynamic made for me, prime among them was that it was machine washable. I passed through the kitchen a couple of times, taking a little sandwich each time I moved through. It took about two hours to realize I had eaten pretty much the whole tray.

  Roy caught up with me as I took a basket of laundry with me on the way to the locker room. He was dressed in civvies, the smell of soap and shampoo wafting off him. “Hey, Dale, I wanted to apologize for earlier. Lack of sleep is my main weakness.”

  Teeth gnashed in my gut, and I wanted to lash out at the guy. He obviously didn’t like me being here and had no trouble showing it. My fingers tightened around the grips of the laundry basket as hot spikes of anger pricked at me. Then I thought about what Nina said. Nobody gets this chance. And I thought about Terry arguing with Stella. Then I took the emotion attached to those moments and discarded them. Of course, Roy didn’t want me here. I was dangerous. I had a huge body count. A ridiculous body count. And these were his friends. Stopping in the hallway, I put the basket down and extended a hand. “It’s cool, man. Nobody is at their best before nine.”

  “Terry is, but I don’t hold that against him.”

  I laughed at that picking up the basket. Roy walked with me opening the locker room door for me. “I heard you did well today.”

  “Reviews were mixed.”

  “Yeah, I heard about your mix-up. Nothing to get pissed about. Also heard you lost your bow.”

  “I use the same material to make buildings that can take force three hurricane winds, but a robot from Best Buy sliced it in two.”

  “We worked hard to make sure those robots would be a challenge.”

  “So you were trying to impress me?”

  “Maybe a little. The real goal was to put the others through their paces. Me and Nina not being there was a blessing in disguise.”

  “You wanted to see what they’d do without you?”

  “They is also you, kid. You and Baj and Dixie. See, Terry is powerful, but we already know what he can do. Same with Nina. I’m just an old archer. But you kids? You got actual power. You see what Baj did to those drones?” He slugged a fist into his palm, the sound loud in the quiet room. “A glancing blow and it was scrap.”

  It was hard not to be swept up in his enthusiasm. “That was badass. Powermaster’s energy blasts were pretty fucking potent, too.”

  “There’s a reason he was on the fast track to the big leagues.”

  “Yeah, y’know, I…”

  “It happened. We all got to live with it.”

  “So what did you think of how we did?”

  “Pretty good. You and I are gonna start doing our own thing, outside of normal training. It’s going to be a pain in the ass, and we’re going to hate each other a little, but in a fight? Those guys are going to shit their pants.”

  “You guys train a lot.”

  “Yes, we do. We don’t see a lot of action, but when we do, we’re ready.”

  “How often you guys fight?”

  “Once, twice a month, maybe?”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “So what’s up with monitor duty? I got to spend eight hours monitoring for what?”

  “Just in case. It isn’t all fighting. We help with fires and some of the worst car accidents. Baj can move a car easy.”

  I hung my uniform and made sure the rest of my gear was in place, but before I closed the doors, Roy patted my shoulder. “Hold up a sec.”

  I turned to find him at his locker. Five longbows of differing colors were stacked side by side in a rack. Pulling a black one, he held it the same way I held Apogee. “If you’re about to get all proud on me, save it. I haven’t used this bow in a while. It got me through a lot of scrapes.”

  I took the bow from him and rolled it around in my hands. It was made from yew, the weight perfect. The black lacquer had some divots and scratches, but no cracks or visible structural flaws. I got into my stance and lined up an imaginary shot, testing the string. It felt good. Damn good. The last few bows I used had been made of aerogels and other compounds. This weapon was the end result of work and effort.

  “It’s amazing,” I said. “Thanks.”

  “We start our own training tomorrow after our other duties are finished. Don’t be late for monitor duty. Nina is not the forgiving type.”

  I spent the rest of my day watching Baj play Dynasty. It looked amazing, and Ricochet and Templar’s words rang through my mind. A couple of hundred thousand lines of code was a task, but nothing I couldn’t accomplish. I texted Apogee and waited for calls from Romania, but got zero responses. It was pretty quiet in the firehouse, Bajeera’s occasional string of expletives notwithstanding. I was starting to doze off when Baj shook me. “Hey man, you try.”

  I took the controller and started working out where the buttons were. “I don’t know, I’ve never been big into video games.”

  “Oh, dude, perfect. Dynasty is a great game for newbs. First thing to do is make a character.”

  We spent almost forty minutes going through different face and body types. I settled for a male avatar named Tyntaro who looked basically like me. I shook my head at how silly that was, but Bajeera waved away my concerns. “Listen, dude, its basic shit. Everyone does it. We go back to the first games I played, most of my characters looked like me or my sister.”

  Playing the game wasn’t very exciting. It was a long string of easy tasks meant to show me how the game worked. As I turned in stupid little quests and talked to low rent residents of the starting area, I was getting bored, but at the end of a multipart quest, I faced a boss, and things got fun. I lost some hit points before the pattern of the boss’ attacks clicked with me, but after that, I beat it.

  I handed the controller back to Bajeera. “It’s pretty fun. I’m guessing it gets more exciting later?”

  “Not really. I mean for a guy who’s done what you done, nothing like this is going to get your engine running, but I like the high-end raids. A lot of planning and coordination go into those, and it takes some quick thinking with those endgame bosses. There’s also the PvP, though.”

  “PvP?”

  “It’s where players use their characters to fight each other.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “It is.”

  “It’s my go at monitor duty. You gonna be here?”

  “Yeah man,” he said. “I’m your backup in case shit goes sideways.”

  “You’re just going to be here to whole night?”

  “I would be anyways.”

  “You don’t have a place?”

  “Yeah, but the WIFI’s not as fast.”

  Nina poked her
head out of the monitor room. “Hey Dale, five minutes early is the same thing as ten minutes late. Let’s go.”

  I went into the room, where Nina had the chair ready for me. I sat and looked at the five monitor setup. It was nothing intimidating, but Nina spent fifteen minutes showing me everything. The only thing that looked daunting was a laminated sheet with the police codes laid out. It was another language, and none of it made sense.

  I felt like I had a handle on everything, but I was nervous for the first hour after she left. I tried to look at all five screens at the same time. Most of them showed scenes of downtown and other areas where we fought the monster. Buildings were gutted, the streets were littered with wrecked cars, downed street lamps and traffic lights, and debris of every shape and size. The National Guard was there protecting emergency workers and linemen who worked to get the power restored, and I saw at least a dozen different trucks from different states and companies.

  I listened in on the police band, but they talked so fast, I started writing the codes down then deciphering them. None of it perked my attention. Mostly looting and breaking and entering, along with traffic stuff. My attention started to waver when I heard, “All-Stars, you out there?”

  I started in my chair, but clicked the microphone toggle and said, “Yeah, we’re here. How can we help you?”

  “Bajeera, is that you? You got a cold or something?”

  “No, I’m not Bajeera. I’m the new guy, Shadowshaft.”

  “What?”

  “Shadowshaft.”

  “Oh, man. That name is terrible. Did your phone make up that name in autofill or something?”

  “Or something.”

  “Wait, you’re the guy on the motorcycle? With the hair?”

  My head hung low, loose hair falling over my eyes. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  The guy laughed a moment, then composed himself, realizing I wasn’t enjoying the moment like he was. “That was some good riding.”

  “Thanks. Is there a situation we need to respond to?”

  “Huh? Ah, naw man. Things are pretty quiet. I probably jinxed that, but with the National Guard running point, nobody is going to play any games tonight.”

  “It’s my first-night on monitor duty. I half expect the whole town to fall apart.”

  “That’s just rookie nerves. Happens to all of us. We barely even call you guys. If there’s a super or some kind of pursuit. Otherwise, we handle it.”

  “I should get back to it though. Don’t want them to think I’m slacking.”

  “We all do it. Don’t let them bust your balls. Especially Bajeera. Tell him to get off that damn game.”

  “Heh, I will. Hey, what’s your name?”

  “Officer Carson. Johnny Carson.”

  I waited for the punchline. “And you mocked my name?”

  “No, man. Your supername is bad. Anyway, my mom was a fan of old Johnny.”

  I laughed. “Stay safe out there. Call us if anything.”

  “Will do. Carson out.”

  The night passed slowly, eight hours stretched out over what felt like twelve. Bajeera checked on me a few times, but most of our interaction was me listening to him scream at the top of his lungs. Roy relieved me at two in the morning, which felt weird, like I should have been there longer. I didn’t ask questions though. He plopped his mug of coffee next to the keyboard, asked if anything happened. I said no and left.

  Bajeera watched me stumble through the common room. “There’s a spare bed next to the lockers. Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be long.”

  The next day was long and the one after that, but I found a rhythm, and the next week flew in a blur of new routines and new duties that seemed to fill every hour of the day. I slept at the firehouse most nights, but I got a break from monitor duty over the weekend. Stella was off and her kids were with their grandmother, so she took my evening shifts, and I got to sleep in a good bed. It was evening as we turned onto the block and I saw the lights in my brownstone were on.

  “Wonder what’s up with that,” I said.

  Terry made a big deal about saying nothing, pulling into his driveway. He killed the engine and basically pushed me out of the car. I tried to stop him, but he was halfway to the porch by the time I got my bearings. He keyed in the unlock code for his front door and disappeared, the porch light turned off, leaving me in the dark. I had given up on the idea that this whole experiment was some kind of elaborate revenge plot, but he was acting weird as hell.

  I walked to the front door ready to key in my own code but found it unlocked. The solid wood thrummed under my fingers, and I could hear music from inside, a low-level hum that tickled my fingers. Turning the knob, I heard deep bass tuned loud. Lights were on everywhere, and the smells of fish pan frying hit my nose. My mouth watered as I went to the kitchen, rap lyrics from a song I didn’t know getting louder.

  Madelyne stood in front of the stove dressed in one of my T-shirts and a pair of cutoff workout shorts with black leggings underneath. The music was coming from a small, but powerful Bluetooth speaker, her phone lying next to it on the bar. A large serving platter I had never seen before sat next to the phone, dabs of sour cream, chunky pico de gallo, shredded cheese, and a couple of other toppings were set in a ring with corn tortillas in the middle. The music was loud, but I could still hear the pop of frying fish.

  Picking up a bottle of beer, Madelyne took a long pull before flipping the fish with a spatula. Using her phone, I lowered the volume, and she turned as the music faded into the background.

  “Hey, sexy,” she said.

  I stepped into her embrace, the weariness of a long week sifting out of me. Laying my head on her shoulders, I wrapped my arms around her waist. Her arms linked around my shoulders, and we just stood there for a minute, rocking gently in place. Running a hand through my hair, she probed until her lips found mine and then we separated.

  “I see you missed me,” she said, turning back to check on the fish.

  “I really did.”

  She moved the frying pan off the heat source and turned off the stove. “Well, I hope you brought your appetite.”

  I grabbed a couple of cold beers while she finished preparing the fish. The real joy of eating tacos at home was piling on the toppings. My first two looked like strange tracts of land on some long lost map. “These are great,” I said between bites. “How long you been here?”

  “I got in this afternoon. Nina said you had the night off, I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

  “You should have seen Terry as we pulled in. That guy was not built to keep secrets. Not the good kind at least.”

  “How are you getting on with him?”

  “What, Nina didn’t tell you?”

  She stopped, mid-bite, a wide smile slowly forming on her lips. “Aren’t we a little conspiratorial?”

  I raised a suspicious eyebrow, “I understood her role from the beginning.”

  “Oh, and what’s that?”

  “Informant - slash - temptation.”

  Madelyne laughed, spitting out a glob of food halfway across the table. “She doesn’t tell me everything.”

  “At least you respond to her. A week’s worth of calls and texts, and nothing. I was starting to worry.”

  “Oh c’mon, babe. I have been all kinds of busy and so have you. I didn’t want to bug you.”

  “A text message with those exact words would have been great.”

  “So you do miss me?”

  I said nothing.

  “Fine, I’ll try and do better. Now, spill it, Dale.”

  “We’ve been getting along fine. Great, actually.”

  It was her turn to give me a suspicious look, “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Really?”

  I took another taco, “I’m serious. In some weird way, it’s working perfectly.”

  “That’s good to hear,” she said, though she wasn’t fully convinced. We were going to revisit this issue later. “How are you ad
justing to everything else?”

  “The truth? It’s been slow and weird. We don’t really do anything.”

  “Nina said you guys have been training nonstop since you got here.”

  “Yeah, but that’s all it is. Training and drilling and repetition. It’s a bit of a grind.”

  “Oh, babe, how long since you’ve had a real job?”

  “Define the term ‘real job’ for me.”

  She took a sip of her beer, eyeing me curiously. “For real?”

  “I’ve been what you’d call an independent contractor for...maybe ten years.”

  “Jesus, really? Ten years? No wonder you’re dying.”

  “I didn’t say I was dying. I’m just not used to the quiet.”

  “What do they have you doing?”

  “We do team training in the morning, we’ve been working this warehouse thing for a while now. Every day is a new thing. Infiltration, clearing the area, damage control. Powermaster is actually a really good tactics guy.”

  “Ok, then what?” she said, prepping me a new taco. My tenth? Eleventh? I wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Maddie knew me, and there was enough stuff for at least another dozen.

  “Then we eat, and Roy and I do what he calls precision training. He wants us in sync. The way he sees it, Powermaster is the leader, but Roy and I will generally be up high with a better view of the action, so he wants us coordinated.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad. You like telling people what to do.”

  “Haha. And for the record, none of it is bad, just different. Like, Roy has us doing this drill where we shoot the same targets a second apart. And not from a firing stance. We’re quick drawing it. When I shoot first, it’s easy. Roy is really good. I draw and shoot, he Robin Hood’s my arrow no problem.”

  “Robin Hood?” she said, confused, but a second later she understood what I meant; shooting an arrow through an arrow already on the target.

  “And you can’t do that?”

  “Of course I can do that,” I said. “I can hit pretty much any shot. What I cannot do, for the life of me, is get the timing right. I’m always a millisecond off, and Roy is a stickler for it. He won’t move on to the next thing until we get this perfect.”