Suckerpunch shivered. You and me both Chief. We have no idea if the little prick used his power on us, either.
Chief Bryant sipped from a glass next to the podium. The tips of his mustache slowed their gyrations as he swallowed. "He used his Manifestation to pass tests and avoid suspicion, as well as evade our rigorous testing for Primes at the academy level." His mustache twitched. "The State Board is reviewing our actions and current procedures."
Suckerpunch raised his hand but didn't wait to be called on. "Not to make light of the situation, but, as you said, isn't this an internal police matter? According to our information, Mnemonic has vanished and there is no reason to suspect he will be close enough to intervene in Detective Miller's arrest. Why bring in the big guns?"
His mustache waving like a drunken starfish, Chief Bryant leaned forward over the podium. "In every case investigated so far, Mnemonic modified the memories of the witnesses. Detective Miller appears to have facilitated his actions by covering for him, legally making her a Minion."
"Null Minions are still your department. Unless Mnemonic is the target of the raid, Hero involvement doesn't make sense. Sir." Battleplan said.
One corner of his mustache dunked itself in the cup as Chief Bryant took another sip from his glass. He didn’t seem to notice. "The times we have verified Miller giving orders gives me pause. Angela is being arrested as a Null facilitator, or Minion if you prefer. It is possible she is also a Prime. Additionally, since Mnemonic escaped, there is a real chance he will interfere with her arrest. Regardless, we hope to capture her alive for interrogation. As such, you are to go in with the assumption that a Telepath will be opposing you."
"But—" Suckerpunch tried to interject.
"Thank you for your time." Chief Bryant ignored the Hero to drop heavily into his chair in the front row.
Scaleface stepped up to podium. "We are offering full support to the Chief in this case."
Nephilim raised her hand.
Smiling, Scaleface gestured for her to speak. "All right Neph, what would you like to know?"
"Why is this meeting about Miller and not Mnemonic?"
"Excellent question. Mnemonic has been missing since his head injury last week. An injury we now believe was faked to extract him from active duty. We suspect Miller is preparing to do the same, so we are taking no chances on surveillance and moving to apprehend her immediately."
Cherrybomb raised her hand.
"No more questions until the end of the briefing." Scaleface waved her off. "Should we encounter Mnemonic, his Manifestation appears to be limited by touch and allows him to modify memories. As such, take care to avoid skin contact. If you do come into direct contact, assume you have been compromised and default to non-lethal detention of all suspects. For now, we are classifying him as a typical single power Telepath, likely a Feeder."
Cherrybomb whispered to Nephilim, who smirked and raised her hand.
"Go ahead Neph."
"Is this a capture or kill scenario?" she asked.
"We prefer capture, but both suspects are wanted for Felony Villainy," he replied. "There will be no charges if the suspects die during this mission."
Suckerpunch's raised hand was waved off again. He stifled a groan.
Nephilim winked at him.
"In conclusion, Angela Miller is a henchwoman at the very least. Treat her with extreme caution and pull back to regroup if she shows signs of a Manifestation."
Scaleface ignored Suckerpunch's waving arm and turned to the Chief. "I will need you to cordon off a four-block area around Miller's house. The PCA will remain in reserve and will mobilize in pursuit if we run into serious opposition."
Chief Bryant nodded. "The Department is at your disposal."
"Detective Miller has just returned to her home after a double shift." Scaleface turned off the projector. "She should be distracted, tired, and easily taken. You have twenty minutes to get your gear and get to the transport. Operation is at 1900 hours. Make sure you bring a full complement of flash bangs in case we run into a telepath. You are dismissed."
****
"Dad, crap, sorry Chief…" Battleplan winced and tried again. "Chief Bryant, we are in position. Over."
Ha. The kid is going to get so much crap about that. I'll make sure of it. Suckerpunch held position nearby, keeping a watchful eye on the rookie's back.
Chief Bryant's tinny voice came over the radio. "Battleplan, proceed with caution. The boys just cracked open her computer and it looks like Miller was giving Mnemonic his orders. It would be out of character for GG to promote a Null above one of his Primes, so she might have some minor Manifestation."
"Acknowledged. Please update us immediately if you find out what she can do." The kid jogged around the corner to where the rest of the team waited.
Suckerpunch followed silently. Always fun to be on babysitting duty, but someone has to keep him alive.
Battleplan stopped beside Scaleface, falling just shy of the professional tone he seemed to be going for. "Chief Bryant has confirmed, Miller is a Prime of unknown capability. The Chief still believes she is home alone, and recommends an immediate capture, with prejudice."
Scaleface's voice reverberated as a light wind picked up around him. "Good job kid. I can tank a hit if need be, so will give her a chance to surrender."
The team, minus Scaleface, lined up so Battleplan could touch each of them with an ungloved hand. They stood a little straighter after the touch and moved swiftly to their assigned positions.
Cherrybomb split off to cover the rear door and bathroom windows.
Nephilim and Suckerpunch settled on either side of the front door. They would be the first two inside after their battering ram did his job.
Scaleface, more than up to the challenge of forcing a door, disappeared into the dense shield of air forming around him. The wind grew stronger as he continued to bulk up.
Battleplan stepped back and to the side, his powers better suited to increasing team survivability and triage in the event of catastrophic resistance. He would enter last.
Massive blue claws counted down silently from five. At one, Scaleface put a fist the size of dinner plate through the door and chucked it over his shoulder into the front yard.
Suckerpunch went first, Nephilim right behind him.
Angela Miller, wearing pink elephant pajamas and curled up in front of her television on a frilly pink couch, laughed into her phone. A steaming coffee cup and an open bottle of Baileys sat on the small table to her right. "Fuck."
Nephilim advanced on the woman with a smile. "Miss Miller, please surrender peacefully."
Grinning cheerfully up at Nephilim, she rumbled into her phone. "You were right, I've been made. See you at the rendezvous." Her voice broke like someone who regularly screamed at the top of their lungs in the woods.
"You are under arrest for Felony Villainy and other Prime Crimes." Nephilim raised a pair of handcuffs from her belt. "Please face the wall and place your hands on your head."
The Villain's smile turned sharp. She didn't get up. "Starstuff, huh? I do hope you brought some backup. You are going to need more than an old friend, a washed-up has-been, and a cute rookie to take me in." She winked at Battleplan, who turned bright red under his mask.
Scaleface swung his electric blue head through the doorway, his voice like came out like wind chimes in a storm. "By the power invested in me by the Heroic Action Act, you are under arrest. This is your last chance to surrender peacefully."
Something's wrong. She's too calm and we are too bunched up. Suckerpunch tapped Battleplan's shoulder. As soon as the kid looked at him, he pointed at his eyes and gestured towards the kitchen.
Battleplan flipped on a light in the kitchen, shrugged, then moved back to the doorway beside Scaleface.
Miller put her hands up. "Fine, you got me. Am I allowed to put some clothes on? I promise I won't try to run away."
Nodding, Scaleface pointed a massive claw at Nephilim. "Neph, go ahead and keep
her company while she gets dressed. If she needs to piss, she can hold it. You have eight minutes."
"Tsk, tsk. So untrusting." Detective Miller led the way.
The rest of the team waited, shoulders tense and powers ready.
Battleplan's radio lit up with the Chief's frantic voice. At the same moment, a thud echoed down the hall. "Abort, abort. She's Ouroboros. Employ Telepath countermeasures. Abort mission immediately."
I knew it. Miller was too composed to be a Null. Suckerpunch dumped everything off the small coffee table and hefted it one-handed as a makeshift shield.
The small woman moved leisurely back into view, one hand on her hip and blood dripping off the baton she held in her other hand. "Only one team. Kind of insulting, but it doesn't matter how many you brought. I don't have to pretend anymore...and you can call me Screamdream."
To stunned silence, she wiped the baton off on the couch, leaving crimson streaks behind. "You just had to send her in with me, knowing I'd have to hurt her, didn't you? I won't forgive that."
The doorway partially collapsed as the huge form of Scaleface pushed inside.
Battleplan and Suckerpunch both yanked concussion grenades off their vests, but she opened her mouth before either could pull the pin.
The walls melted away, everything did.
Huge green ferns sprang up, surrounding them with thick jungle, leaving the three of them in a clearing roughly the size of the living room they'd been in moments before.
A surge of fear pushed Suckerpunch backwards until he was pressed up against an enormous tree. There’s something in the woods. The thought echoed through his mind, repeating every other second.
Nephilim, blood dripping down her face, stumbled out from behind a different tree. "Don't believe it. She's going to make us…" She trailed off into incomprehensible shrieking, her teeth sprouting into enormous fangs as tufts of fur and claws burst through her skin.
Suckerpunch watched mesmerized as a single white feather floated away from her and gently drifted to the ground. It melted into a blade of brilliant green grass. There seemed to be a lot of yelling, but it was distant; overwhelmed by a song he couldn’t quite hear.
A few clouds passed in front of the bright noon day sun, creating a tangle of shadows that slid past Battleplan and into the jungle. He collapsed as the shadows passed him, face rippling, and clutching his leg with taloned fingers.
Still growing, Nephilim's shredded clothes fell away to reveal orange-striped fur. Now more tiger than woman, she tumbled to the ground and rose on four legs.
That’s what is in the woods. Connor realized. Monsters.
Scaleface was shrinking, but not by much. Black fur burst through the blue scales of his Manifestation as he threw back his head and roared.
Three sets of glowing eyes turned to stare hungrily at the only human left. Suckerpunch, clutching a thin branch that had previously been a sturdy coffee table. His heart beat faster, his vision swimming with every beat. I’m surrounded by monsters.
Chattering birds and the roaring beasts made it impossible to hear anything, even as the scent of wet tiger overwhelmed even the ozone that usually emanated from Scaleface's Manifestation. There was no way to tell who was who as they moved in for the kill.
Suckerpunch dropped the useless branch as a sign of surrender; a rotted apple rolled unnoticed away from his other hand. "Hey guys, you know me, we're on the same side and we should totally calm down, nice and easy." His hands shook uncontrollably as he inched his way along the trunk of the enormous tree. He found his way blocked by a thorned bush. Is she a Reality Warper? I thought they were a myth. Do I try to talk them down, or run?
The tigers matched him step for step, hungrily licking fanged lips.
Stopping at the corner formed by the bush and tree seemed to set the largest off. It moved towards him with its fangs out.
Screaming in its face, Suckerpunch jumped forward and kicked its legs out from under it, then raced past it.
The second tiger lunged for his neck.
Dodging the swiping paws on one side, Suckerpunch leapt sideways and ducked to avoid the snapping jaws on the other side...right until he ran headfirst into still another tree trunk.
The beast that had bitten at him heaved itself forwards impossibly fast, knocking the Hero off his feet and sinking its claws into his chest armor. They cut through the vest like warm butter, just shy of ripping into the flesh beneath. Tears splashed down his cheeks as he realized his utility belt, filled with defensive tricks, was empty. I’m sorry mom, I thought I would do better before I died.
"Dammit Sucker, snap out of it. You're wounded. She's gone, and I can't stop your bleeding with you running all over the place." Scaleface, without his dragon form, appeared through a fading rainbow of sights and smells. He held out a completely human hand and hoisted Suckerpunch back to his feet.
"What?"
Details slowly swam into focus. A regular living room in a small house, surrounded by sheared off bits of couch and a crushed table. Smears of red on the white carpet led to the open front door. There was no sign of their target.
Spread out around him in a semi-circle lay his team, most of their faces pinched with pain and concern. The scent of blood permeated everything, reminding him of the aftermath of a Daemon fight.
Battleplan lay collapsed on the floor, a bloody kitchen knife sticking out of his thigh.
Nephilim moaned from the couch and pressed a towel to her bleeding head. "Why didn't anyone say she's a psychopath? You know my power doesn't work as well on them."
Scaleface pressed a fluffy pink towel against Suckerpunch's shoulder and affixed it with straps from his utility belt, then checked his other wounds. "She missed anything vital, but it wasn't for want of trying. She stabbed you at least three times." He laughed. "I don't think she likes you."
"Don’t blame yourself, Neph, you know we can't stay mad at you, even if we wanted to." Suckerpunch glanced at Battleplan while snatching up the miraculously still half-full coffee cup with his unwounded arm. "Well kid, that was your first Telepath. Was it fun?" He took a deep swig. "I hated it, a lot."
Dropping to one knee beside the rookie, Scaleface passed the radio over to Suckerpunch. "Sucker, how many times do I have to tell you? Drinking is not allowed on duty, nineteen is not twenty-one, and you are to stop taunting him by calling him a kid. Do you want to be on filing duty, again?"
The shredded clothing stuck to Battleplan's leg, eliciting a wince as Scaleface pulled it free. Trevor didn’t react as if he’d heard either of them.
Suckerpunch dropped the empty cup. "Fine, fine. It was barely spiked at all, but you're the boss."
"What happened? Why am I bleeding?" Battleplan's eyes rolled wildly, not focusing on any one thing.
The team leader tightened another strap around the rookie's thigh, then heaved Trevor back to his feet. "It looks like she cut you on her way out. Keep pressure on that tourniquet and you'll be fine. Fifteen stitches, twenty tops."
"Where did the tigers go?" Battleplan asked.
"Na, it was an illusion kid." Suckerpunch checked over the radio, then handed it back to the rookie. "Your first Telepath is always a trip, but they usually wear off pretty fast. You up to walking?"
"I think so." He shook his head sluggishly. "Did anyone see where she went? We can't let her get away."
"Ha, that's the spirit. She caught us with our pants down. She's long gone by now." Suckerpunch laughed. "The Chief is going to be furious." I'd hate to make the call to my dad about this.
Head hanging, Battleplan lifted the radio to his lips. "Chief Bryant, Angela Miller is armed, dangerous, and loose in the city."
Chapter 31
Tuesday June 1st, 2010
I did it. I beat him.
She had spent over half a week keeping a low profile and exploring the area around the Pit, waiting for the day that Kevin was to take her away to come, and go. Now it was nearly over.
She'd spent the morning breathing shallowl
y in the dark heat of her lair, flinching at each noise, and trying not to cry. No one had appeared, though she'd half expected some kind of compulsion to make her go to him. Even her regular migraines had finally stopped entirely.
The area around her Lair was blessedly free of digging and barking. Jackie's dogs were on a tight leash after some of them got a solid dose of oven cleaner sniffing around her lair. They seemed fine for the experience, but stopped digging at the foundation, which suited Samantha just fine. She reapplied a thin line of the pungent stuff every so often to be safe. Now even the stubborn Chihuahua was staying away.
Her newest problem was the posters. Someone had decided a whole gang of thieves was operating in the area, and each of her alter-egos had their very own wanted poster, complete with offers of small rewards for information. It made using the phone even harder, since someone had told all the stores that a teenage girl asking to use the phone was a scammer.
I did it, I escaped my fate, but I really need to get to a phone soon. I don't have forever before they figure out where I'm hiding and drag me back to Jon's house, or worse.
Samantha took her morning pills while listening to her stomach growling. The bitter taste reminded her that fresh water was a necessity. She latched onto her single remaining snack; a tiny bag of cookies from her original haul. Time for another run, and this time I am getting a phone if I have to fight for one.
Hunger gnawed at her belly, even after the cookies, but there was no help for it. The money hadn't lasted past the weekend, other than a few dollars she'd saved for the bus. Opportunities to find more food had been lacking.
She'd gone back Saturday to refill her supplies, but the shopping center had been crawling with security guards. The remaining food, even rationed, hadn't been meant to last a whole week. She'd chosen to go hungry, rather than risk the Heroes catching her.
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