“HIT ANY TROUBLE?”
“No, not really.”
A body tumbled down the stairs, and I took three steps forward, realized it was a man in olive fatigues. Quite dead, covered in so many wounds he looked like a slaughterhouse pig.
“UH. WHAT?”
Responder followed, panting and sweating. “Uno mas?” he asked Acertijo, wearily.
“Uno mas.”
Responder sighed and picked up the dead man, slung him across his shoulders. And it clicked.
“HIS POWER CAN TARGET THE DEAD?” That was a handy workaround.
“Not animals, sadly. We tried that.”
“DON’T TELL PETA.” But I was scanning as I was joking, and yeah... the door was giving off some truly horrible readings.
“ALTERNATE ROUTES?”
“None I can tell. Maybe something outside.”
I shook my head. No reactor, so I didn’t have to worry about blowing it up. That left only one possibility I could think of, one theory that fit. And I shuddered to think it.
But it did mean that I could brute force this. And probably needed to, before they moved the evidence. “GET UPSTAIRS. SHE’S GOING TO OPEN THE DOOR.”
“Did you not hear me? It is trapped.”
“TRUE.” I started the sequence, began powering up the gravitic shear. “BUT SHE IS DIRE. AND SHE WILL NOT BE STOPPED.”
“You’re loco, lady. But it’s your choice. Come on, Responder. Upstairs.”
Responder looked at him, started to put the corpse down.
“No. Part of your training.”
“What, now?”
“Yes, now. Rapído, go!”
It took a special type of nutcase, to be a hero without superpowers. The sort who’d train and build and wreck their body, to get even the slightest edge. Doing things like hauling the corpses of full-grown men up and down stairs.
But I’d be lying, if I said I wasn’t impressed.
Still, I didn’t have much time to think on it. The damage to the suit had gone beyond armor, and I found myself rerouting circuits, juggling power modulation, compensating for damaged components. Even with my skill it was a near thing, but finally the charge was ready.
I’d sent them upstairs because I had a shot at possibly surviving this trap. But still... “Alpha?”
“Boss?”
“If she dies here, help them out, huh? Make sure the country gets the care it needs. See it through.”
“You won’t. You won’t die here.”
“Not planning to.” And before my courage could fail me, I brought my hands down.
The world turned white.
Nine seconds later, after I’d taken stock of my battered form and found it intact, I started the reboot sequence. The explosion had knocked my generator couplings offline, and it took a solid thirty seconds to restore the system from emergency power. Twenty seconds after that I got control of the Suit’s limbs back, and started digging my way out of the rubble. Forty seconds past that, the spiders finished repairing the ocular sensors, and the viewscreens snapped back to life—
—along with a wall of solid yellow and red damage warnings. The Suit was crippled, finally losing steam. After all I’d put it through, after the tenderizing it had taken up and down this damn island, I wasn’t surprised.
“Come on baby, come on, give her just a little more,” I whispered as I worked. And three minutes later, I got things stable enough to walk.
“Madre de dios...” from behind me. I glanced over to see Acertijo and Responder perched on top of the rubble.
“DOOR’S OPEN,” I wheezed. At least my voice modulator still worked.
“We’ll go on ahead,” Acertijo said. “Leave the body, Responder.”
And the two slipped into the shadows. I gave them a minute’s head-start, then limped after them.
The tunnel wound down, down into the rock. Track lights set into it glowed... save for the ones near the door. The explosion had done for those. I flipped on my nightsight, cursed when it flickered and glitched, and fought to get it functional. I managed, mostly.
“Look at you...” a voice whispered from the darkness, ahead. Deep, thick, it sounded like the owner was talking through a mouthful of mucus.
“AND DESPAIR, YE MIGHTY.” I finished, limping and straining my nightvision. Nothing. The curve of the tunnel blocked my view.
“I’ve never been partial to canned meat. But for you I’ll make an exception,” the stranger slurped.
“GLUTTONY, SHE PRESUMES?”
“Guilty as sin,” he whispered, ending in a grotesque high-pitched titter.
The cave branched off as I went, and I glanced around, wary. My audio was still recovering from the explosion. I couldn’t tell which direction his voice was coming from.
Thermal sensors showed fresh tracks against the cave floor. Acertijo and Responder, good, good. I followed them, trusted them to know where they were going. Hoped they knew where they were going.
“Snakes aren’t going to be much use against you, hmmm?” Gluttony purred.
“OH, SHE’S DOWN HERE TOO, HUH?”
“No. But part of her’s in me.”
Ah, he was a gloater, like his boss. I could use that. “SPEAK PLAINLY, MIDBOSS.”
“Midboss? Midboss!”
“DID DIRE STUTTER?”
“You little bitch—”
“SHE HAS NO TIME FOR YOUR PRATTLE AND DOESN’T CARE ABOUT YOUR STUPID POWER. SHUT UP AND GET OUT OF HER WAY, MIDBOSS.”
“I’ll show you who's a Midboss!”
And then a wave of snakes poured out of the tunnels, hissing and surging, red eyes glowing in the darkness. No real threat to me, but they swarmed over me, made it harder to see, made the floor slick as I stepped on them and burst their bodies. Snake blood covered the suit as I scraped them away, but they filled in just as fast as they died.
Motion to my left, and I threw an arm up, as he jumped me, leaped out of a tunnel to slam into me. Large, fast, with a grotesquely bloated belly.
And he was strong.
I fought him blow for blow, while he spat snakes in my eyes, pulled icicles out of thin air, and pounded me with flabby fists. We traded pain, but the armor was damaged, breaking, shattering bit by bit. And he, he was barely touched. I busted his nose at one point, spraying blood, but he recovered quickly, just cupped his hand over his face and his nose became whole again. He grinned at me as he removed his hand. So I broke it again.
“Muddafugger!” he howled, staggering back, and healing it again.
“HEALING HANDS. SNAKE SUMMONING. ICICLES. AND BASIC BRUTE STRENGTH. LET HER GUESS, YOU CAN PROBABLY TURN SUNLIGHT INTO LASERS, YES?”
“Oh yes. I ate a part of each of them. Like I do everyone that passes through here. Like I’ll eat you.” He fingered a necklace on his bare chest. A necklace of what looked like dried ears.
A chill ran down my spine.
“AND YOU GET THE POWERS OF THOSE YOU EAT. BUT NOT FOR LONG.”
He scowled. “Now who told you that?”
“NO ONE. BUT THANKS FOR CONFIRMING IT.” I waded back in. I’d survived against the powerhouse whose powers he was copying, and done pretty good. But the suit had been new, back then. Barely damaged. I needed to finish this, quickly.
I started activating the gravitic shear—
And half the power couplings blew.
The suit went dark, and unresponsive.
“Oh shit.”
A pregnant pause. I worked to get the system back up, worked feverishly...
And then the pounding began.
Ten seconds into it, I heard the armor giving way. Twenty seconds into it came a massive groan, and the plates in front of my head started to go, viewscreen bursting as fingers came through.
All he’d needed was to get his hands on me.
The gyros stopped working, and we fell. The mask peeled open, revealing my face to the air. I squinted in the light, saw the cannibal’s mouth descending toward me—
And Acertij
o’s rapier caught his ear, stabbed straight through the canal.
Gluttony’s scream deafened me, and the suit crashed to the floor. I gave up on the system, fought to get free of it, hitting the emergency ejection and wiggling free of the bent and warped hatch. I watched, as Gluttony shook the sword loose in a spray of blood, and Acertijo danced around the big man, working with Responder to fight him. It worked pretty well, for a time. Acertijo taunted and evaded him, moving with practiced grace. Responder took the hits, and Gluttony was the one who reeled back.
For a moment, I really thought they had it. For a moment, I dared to put my faith in heroes.
Foolish.
“Look out!” I called... but too late.
Gluttony gasped, as a wound opened on his ankle... but Responder was the one who fell. The single surviving snake removed its fangs from his ankle, to let its venom do its job.
Responder could still be drugged, which meant he could still be poisoned. Which meant... “Don’t let him eat Responder!” I yelled, popping the compartments of the suit open, digging inside for something I could use, anything.
But too late. The big man ignored the rapier, ignored the pinpoint stabs to his eyes, ears, genitals, and kept on going.
It took only a minute for Responder to die, while I watched helplessly. It took only a minute more for Gluttony to corner Acertijo, and finally swat him down.
But by then I had found what I needed. And I had found my proper face, once more.
I put the mask on, booted it up, just as Gluttony turned, and knelt over Responder’s corpse. The darkness and pre-boot obscured the grisly sight, but the sound echoed in my ears, as flesh tore and slid down a greedy gullet.
“HE FOUND A REAL WINNER WITH YOU, DIDN’T HE, MIDBOSS?” I asked, keeping my hand at my side, concealing the contents.
Gluttony turned to me, bloody face grinning wide. “And now you can’t hurt me without killing yourself. You lose.”
“LOSE? HARDLY. CHECKMATE IN ONE.”
Gluttony rose, glared. “I’m going to eat you bitch!” He roared, and latched his puffy hands onto my shoulders, hoisting me up so my mask was right in front of his face.
“NO. YOU’RE GOING TO LOSE. BECAUSE YOU’RE A MIDBOSS. AND DIRE?”
I brought my hand up, and slammed the plus-size baggie of cocaine straight into his mouth. It burst, spraying powder all over my mask, as his eyes went wide. “DIRE’S AN END BOSS, YOU ASSHOLE.”
I didn’t know much about biology. But I knew quite a bit about drugs, thanks to an old friend. And that cocaine that I’d taken from Corazon’s safe so long ago, that amount of cocaine was enough to kill a herd of elephants.
He choked. He gargled, grabbed at his face with both hands, but seemed to spasm, lost coordination. He fell, and I winced as my head exploded in pain, as he bumped his own against the ground. I scrambled back until Responder was the only one near him, and watched as blood ran from every one of Gluttony’s orifices.
Powerhouse or no, that much blow was going to fucking end just about anyone.
A groan from the corner caught my attention. Acertijo.
“OH GOOD, YOU’RE ALIVE.”
“What... what happened?”
“THAT ONE PRESIDENT’S WIFE WAS WRONG. TURNS OUT WINNERS USE DRUGS AFTER ALL.” He ignored my joke, crawled straight to Responder. “AH. SORRY.”
A breath. Two. Then he muttered under his breath, folded Responder’s arms on his chest. Made the sign of the cross.
“THERE WAS NOTHING SHE COULD DO—”
“I know.” His voice was ragged. I looked away, pretended that I didn’t notice the wetness against his mask.
After a few minutes, Acertijo straightened up. “He wanted to be a hero, ever since he was a boy. He died as one.”
“YEAH.”
There was really nothing more to say. I gave Señor Acertijo a hand up, and scanned around. With the traveling mask’s undamaged sensors, I instantly found what I was looking for.
“COME. ONE LAST LOOSE END, THEN WE CAN REST.”
Bruised, battered, tired as hell, we leaned on each other as we stumbled down the tunnel.
And there they were, at the end of it, with operating tables positioned all around. Five conical warheads, arranged neatly on a slab.
“EASTMAN-LAIRD RADIATION. NO REACTOR. WHAT ELSE COULD IT BE, REALLY? AFTER ALL, WHY WOULD MAESTRO M WASTE ONE IF HE DIDN’T HAVE MORE?”
“What have we come across?” Acertijo asked. “What is this madness?”
I turned to him, felt giddy despite my wounds. “MADNESS? HMMHMHMHM... HAHAHHAHA!” He took a step back, worried by my laughter. “MADNESS? NO, SEÑOR ACERTIJO, THIS IS THE FINAL PIECE OF THE PUZZLE. AND MORE, THIS IS OPPORTUNITY!”
He started to draw his rapier, but I put my hand on his arm. “LET HER EXPLAIN.”
CHAPTER 20: ECHOES OF THE COLDEST WAR
“Karma? Nah. Been too long in this world to say that everybody gets what they deserve in the end. Seen too many good people die. But I suppose I could believe in the bad part of karma. Your history follows you like a shroud, building up and wrapping tighter around you as you go. In the end, you can’t escape your past.”
--Grim, leader of the Graveyard Gang supervillain team
Ten hours later, after a well-earned nap, shower, and hasty redecoration, I had Alpha release Mitch and Colleen from their cell, and escort them to my office. Well, the bolthole, anyway. I’d found an old, rusty metal desk somewhere and a chair that had a paper-thin layer of upholstery left on it, so it was an office. Didn’t care if it was shabby, I had a good mood and nothing could stop me. Señor Acertijo was hiding in the shadows. Somewhere. I had no idea how he’d got so good at stealth without powers, but figured it couldn’t hurt to have him on hand. Besides, it was a show of good faith on my part. I rather got the idea he didn’t quite trust me with those warheads. Which was fair, because my mind kept returning to what I could do with them, until I realized that I didn’t quite trust me with those warheads.
A knock at the door interrupted my reverie, steel knuckles clashing against the stone. “COME IN!” I called, wrapping my hands behind my skull and leaning back, putting my feet up on the desk. Bruises screamed their pain at me, but I ignored them. This would require a strong front, if I wanted it to have a chance of success.
Mitch and Colleen shuffled in. A quartet of guard-bots followed them, metal skeletons gleaming in the dim light, and eyes glowing red.
“This how you’re going to spend your final days?” Mitch observed. “I’ve seen a number of dictators hide out in a bunker until the SEALs come for them. Never ends well.”
“HM? NO. THIS IS JUST THE STORY TIME ROOM.”
“If you’re going to kill us, get to it,” Colleen muttered. “My neck hurts from your damn mask torture. I don’t want a fucking monologue on top of it.”
“NO NO, THIS IS A STORY.” I stood. “THIS IS YOUR STORY.”
“Oh really? I’m all ears.” Mitch sneered, but his eyes didn’t leave my mask’s eyesockets.
“A LONG TIME AGO, TWO REVOLUTIONS TOOK PLACE IN THE CARIBBEAN. ONE HERE IN MARIPOSA, WHERE THE OPPRESSED MASSES BROKE FROM A WITHERED AND CORRUPT BRITISH PROXY GOVERNMENT TO JOIN LOCKSTEP BEHIND ONE FERDINAND CORAZON, THE NEW HEART OF HIS COUNTRY. IMMEDIATELY HE COZIED UP TO THE STRONGEST SUPERPOWER IN THE HEMISPHERE; THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.”
“A history lesson? Is that all?”
I ignored Colleen’s jab. Mitch was still staring at me.
“THE OTHER REVOLUTION WAS TO THE NORTH, A BIT AFTER MARIPOSA’S. THIS REVOLUTION WAS IN CUBA, WHERE THE OPPRESSED MASSES BROKE FROM A WITHERED AND CORRUPT US PROXY GOVERNMENT, TO JOIN LOCKSTEP BEHIND ONE FIDEL CASTRO AND HIS ASSOCIATES. BUT UNLIKE CORAZON, HE WOULD NOT BEND THE KNEE.”
“Now you’re fishing, Dorothy. I’m disappointed.”
“FISHING, HELL. THE NET’S BEEN CAST, AND IT PULLED BACK A FUCKING WHALE. YOU SEE, THE CIA HATED CASTRO. THEY TRIED TO KILL HIM, IN QUITE A FEW HORRIBLE AND STUPID WAYS. CASTRO GOT GOOD AT SURVI
VING ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS. AND FINALLY HE GOT FED UP WITH THE UNITED STATES IN GENERAL. FINALLY, REALIZING THAT IT WAS HIM OR YOU, HE TURNED TO THE OTHER MAJOR NATION IN THE WORLD AT THE TIME. THE SOVIETS.”
“Our attempts on him were greatly exaggerated. True, we had some real boneheads, but we got over that grudge long ago.”
“BUT HE DIDN’T. SO WHEN THE UNITED STATES PUT SOME LONG-RANGE NUCLEAR MISSILES NEAR RUSSIA DURING A SPIRITED BOUT OF SABER RATTLING, RUSSIA SWEET-TALKED CASTRO INTO HOSTING SOME MISSILES OF HIS OWN. THUS BEGAN THE CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS.”
“Nixon ended that crisis before it got started. Everyone knows that. The Russians backed down without a fight.” Mitch was sweating. Cool down here, but sweat beaded his brow, and I knew I was on the right track.
“AH, BUT WHY? HE DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO THREATEN CASTRO, OR KHRUSHCHEV. HE MERELY MADE SOME POLITE COMMENTS, AND SENT OVER A DIPLOMAT TO SPEAK WITH CASTRO. THERE’S BEEN QUITE A BIT OF SPECULATION ON THAT PART.”
“So what do you think?” Mitch licked his lips, shifted his eyes to the desk. To the red button that I kept caressing.
It didn’t actually do anything. I just had it installed to keep up appearances. It made a good prop for this discussion.
“WELL, IN THE STORY SHE’S TELLING, NIXON REALIZED THAT HE HAD A FRIENDLY, OVEREAGER-TO-PLEASE PUPPET NATION JUST SOUTH OF CUBA. SO HE DID SOMETHING AGAINST EVERY TREATY AND EVERY STANDARD OF COMMON SENSE. HE GAVE CORAZON NUCLEAR MISSILES, FOR A PRE-EMPTIVE STRIKE AGAINST CUBA IF IT BECAME NECESSARY.”
Colleen twitched, and—
Wait, who was I thinking about? I glared, as that damn anthropomorphic maple leaf appeared again. That thing was my enemy, though I couldn’t remember why. “EASY NOW,” I pointed a finger at the button, hovered my hand an inch over it. “DON’T WANT HER FINGER TO SLIP. LET HER FINISH.”
A guard-bot put its hand on the leaf’s shoulder... and Colleen was back. I blinked, until my memories of her straightened out. “QUITE THE ANNOYING POWER YOU’VE GOT.”
“You have no idea,” she muttered.
“And you’re talking nonsense,” Mitch spoke, mopping his forehead with a sleeve. “Why would Nixon give a foreign power nuclear weapons that could be used against America? The man had many failings, but he was a patriot. That was way outside of the line he wouldn’t cross.”
Dire : Wars (The Dire Saga Book 4) Page 30