by Lucas Flint
“Yeah, I know,” I said, nodding. I put a hand on my heart. “It’s kind of like losing Thomas. Not exactly the same, but I feel pretty much exactly the same as I did back then. I’ll handle it.”
I would have added ‘I think,’ but I didn’t want to worry my parents more than I already had. My parents were very protective of me due to being their only son and I didn’t want to make them even more protective of me than they already were.
“Take as much time to mourn as you need,” said Mom. “Just like with Thomas, you can mourn as long as you want and we’ll support you every step of the way. Right, Walt?”
Dad nodded, though he looked a little uncomfortable. “Of course. You’re our son and we’ll always be there for you, no matter what. You understand?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“Uh huh,” said Dad. He hesitated, but then said, “About being Trickshot … have you been wearing the costume at all lately?”
I shook my head. “No. Not this week, anyway. Too painful.”
“Right,” said Dad. “I get that. But what about your grandfather?”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“You said you know where he is, right?” said Dad. He leaned forward slightly, a concerned look on his face. “Are you going to go get him at some point or not?”
I tilted my head to the side. “You want me to go rescue Grandfather from Icon?”
“If that’s the group that’s got him, sure,” said Dad. “You’re a superhero now, right? So you should be strong enough to take on those guys.”
I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t even thought of Grandfather at all this week, primarily because I was too busy mourning TW. But I remembered that TW had downloaded the coordinates to Icon’s island base into my phone, which meant that even without TW’s help, I could still find Grandfather if I tried. “I suppose so, but I’m surprised you’re even suggesting this at all. I thought you wouldn’t want me to go fight a secret criminal organization by myself like that.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” said Dad, waving a finger at me, “I want what’s best for you and don’t want you to put your life in danger needlessly. On the other hand, however, I also want to see my dad again, and if you can save him … well, just know that your mom and I will support you no matter what you do.”
“But I haven’t even mentioned rescuing him, though,” I said.
“But you want to save him, don’t you?” said Dad. “I can tell. You have that look in your eyes.”
“I do want to save him, but …” I shrugged. “Without TW, I don’t think I can do it.”
“You still have us,” said Dad. He put an arm around Mom and drew her close to him. “We’ll support you. We’ll help you however we can. We’re on your side one hundred and ten percent, just like we always are. I know you’re mourning and all, but I also know you want to save your grandfather and we want you to save him, too, so we’ll give you whatever you need in order to do that.”
I was about to say that I wasn’t ready to assault Icon’s base just yet, but then I paused and thought about it. Wouldn’t TW want me to save Grandfather, rather than spend all this time mourning his loss? The two of us had talked about going to Icon’s island base to save Grandfather ever since Uncle Josh gave us the base’s coordinates, but we had never done it while TW was alive. Yet who said I could only do it with TW’s help? Maybe I just needed to believe in myself and not get worried about being on my own.
Looking up at Mom and Dad again, I nodded and said, “You’re right. TW may be gone, but I’m sure he would have wanted me to save Grandfather even if he wasn’t there to help me. So I’m going to do it, no matter what Icon throws at me.”
Dad smiled. “I’m proud of you, son. When do we start?”
I smiled back. “Tomorrow. We’ll need to make a lot of plans, but we’re going to move fast. We’re bringing the war to Icon … whether they like it or not.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It was unusual for Roland Chaser, the Superior of Icon, to summon anyone into his personal chambers. It was even more unusual for Chaser to summon the woman who had used the alias Christina Madison while in Rumsfeld a few months back. Usually, whenever Chaser interacted with the rest of Icon, he conferred with the higher level agents only, and even then he would be selective about which one of them he spoke to. Christina did not understand why Chaser was so secretive and selective of the company he kept even in his own organization, but she had been with Icon long enough not to be bothered by it. She was actually more bothered by the fact that Chaser had summoned her, a lower level agent, to his personal quarters, which was almost as rare as finding a four leaf clover.
She stood in front of the door to Chaser’s chambers. It was a huge, thick metal door located on the deepest levels of the Tower. Supposedly, it was designed to be strong enough to withstand a nuclear blast, but Christina, lacking a nuclear bomb to test that claim, could not verify it. She could only verify that the door was very big, very wide, and thicker than a boulder. She doubted that even that Trickshot brat using his super strength would be able to knock it down even if he put all of his strength into one mighty blow.
Shaking her head, Christina looked up at the single camera hovering above the door and said, “Superior Chaser, this is Christina Madison. I am here in response to your earlier summons.”
Christina spoke politely enough, but only because she knew what would happen if she was rude. Chaser didn’t like rude agents and Christina had plenty of reasons to be rude. She had been in the middle of taking a nap when she received the summons from Chaser and she just hoped that, whatever Chaser had summoned her for, that it was important.
Of course, it had to be important, because Chaser never summoned his agents for anything less.
There was no verbal answer, but the door slowly opened inwards, revealing a pitch black room that look more like a cave than the personal quarters of the Superior of Icon. But Christina dutifully stepped into the chamber. As soon as she entered, the door slammed shut behind her, making her jump at the loud sound, but then she stopped and looked around, trying but failing to see in the darkness.
All of a sudden, a huge computer screen flickered on before her. Its blue light was the only light in the room, a room Christina sensed was far larger than she could see. The only thing on the screen was the symbol of Icon, which was a single eye with a line crossed through it.
“Superior Chaser,” said Christina, bowing at the screen. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Of course, Christina knew that the screen wasn’t Chaser. At least, she though it wasn’t. Truth was, most Icon agents didn’t know much about Chaser or even what he looked like. Supposedly, only Atticus Frederick, the second highest ranked member in the organization, had ever seen Chaser, but Atticus kept whatever he knew of Chaser to himself. That was frustrating, but Christina didn’t expect anything different from Atticus, who was, in some ways, even more secretive than Chaser himself.
A monotone, robotic voice came from the screen. “Agent Madison. I am pleased to see that you answered my summons promptly. Your files state that you have a lazy streak, but perhaps that was an exaggeration from Atticus.”
Christina blushed. She was well aware that all Icon agents had extensive files on them that Chaser had access to. The files were nearly definitive guides to each individual Icon agent, detailing not just their names, ages, and birth dates, but also their personal histories, personality flaws and quirks, and habits both good and bad. Christina never knew how Icon managed to compile such detailed files, but she supposed that Icon was just very good at digging for dirt from people’s pasts.
“Yes, I can be a bit lazy,” said Christina, “but I know better than to ignore summons from you. After all, you expect nothing but the best from your agents.”
“If you think you will win me over with flattery, agent, then you are quite delusional,” said Chaser. “I did not summon you because I need my ego stroked. I have
a specific task I need you to do and you are the only one qualified to complete it.”
Christina cringed at Chaser’s harshness. She was well aware of how harsh he could be even to his most loyal subordinates. Though Christina was pretty sure that Chaser wasn’t a robot, he was very good at pretending to be one. “What do you need me to do? Not that I am complaining or anything, but I’m just a low level agent, not good for much.”
“I don’t care where you stand in the organization’s hierarchy,” said Chaser. “There have been recent developments in the outside world that require we take action right away. Specifically, developments related to the Trickshot issue.”
Christina could not help but snort. “Are you talking about how he beat that sniper y—uh, Atticus sent after him? I thought you had already sent someone to kill Damian before he could tell the police who hired him.”
Christina was careful not to place the blame for the failure of that particular mission on Chaser. Chaser did not take blame very well and more than one agent had met a rather grisly end for blaming Chaser whenever something went wrong, even if they were correct. Christina would rather be alive than be correct.
“That is not the issue at hand,” said Chaser. “The real issue is that Trickshot knows where Iconia is. And he is going to come very soon in order to rescue Gregory McDonald, despite the message we sent to his friend Kyle in Florida.”
Christina’s face went pale. “No way. No one outside of Icon knows where Iconia is.”
“So we believed, but apparently that information was somehow leaked to Trickshot,” said Chaser. “In any case, we must now prepare for his inevitable assault on the island. I’m confident that Iconia’s defenses and security systems are more than enough to protect the island, but Trickshot has been known to win despite the odds being against him. Hence why I have called you here.”
“Not to show any disrespect, Superior, but I don’t see how I am supposed to help,” said Christina. “I have fought Trickshot before, true, but he’s beaten me twice. If you are going to ask me to kill him—”
“Oh, I would never ask you to do something you have already proved you cannot do competently,” said Chaser. “I learn from my mistakes. If I wanted Trickshot dead, I would just send one of the other agents to do it.”
Christina frowned. “Then what do you want me to do? Just try to keep him off the island?”
“On the contrary,” said Chaser. “I want Trickshot to come here. And you are going to help him.”
“What?” said Christina in shock. “Why? He’s the enemy. I thought we don’t want him here. Do you think he’ll be easier to kill if we have him here?”
A low, robotic chuckle came from the computer screen. “On the contrary, Christina, I have no interest in killing Trickshot. I want him to kill me. And I want you to help him do it.”
-
Read on for more titles by Lucas Flint and a preview chapter of A Superhero’s Assault, the next and final book in the series!
I hope you enjoyed my little tale. Please don't forget to give this book a quick review wherever you bought it. Even just a two-word, "Liked it" or "Hated it" review helps so much. Positive or negative, I am grateful for all feedback from my readers.
PREVIEW:
A Superhero's Assault
Chapter One
The first clue I got that someone was following me were the soft footsteps I heard behind me. I stopped walking and looked over my shoulder, but I did not see anyone. The alleyway in which I walked was totally empty. Well, not totally empty. I mean, there were garbage cans and stuff, but I was the only living thing in the alleyway, at least from what I could see. I glanced at the rooftops, but I didn’t see anyone up there following me, either.
Maybe I had just heard my own footsteps echoing off the alley walls, but I didn’t think so, because the footsteps I heard were soft, almost womanly, while mine were louder and heavier. Yet I didn’t see anyone, male or female, in the alleyway with me. It seemed like I was alone, but I was sure that I had heard someone behind me, even if I didn’t know who that ‘someone’ was.
You might have thought I was paranoid, but I didn’t think so. I was on my way to the island base of the secret organization known as Icon to rescue my grandfather. Knowing Icon, they’d probably send someone to take me down before I got even close enough to reach their base.
But again, I saw no one. I wished TW, my AI assistant, was still alive, because he could have scanned the alleyway for any heat signals. Unfortunately, I couldn’t manually use the Trickshot Watch’s scanning capabilities, mostly because TW had not taught me how to do that before he died. I had to rely on my own senses now, which had worked out for me well so far, but at the same time, I knew I was very vulnerable without TW and so I was more sensitive to noise than I normally was.
But I didn’t hear any other sounds, so I decided I’d just heard things and turned around to keep walking. I needed to get back to the hotel room my parents had booked for me so I could get myself ready for my trip to Icon’s base. I still had the coordinates to their base in my Watch and intended to fly across the sea to get there. I’d have to be careful about when I did that, however, because I didn’t want anyone to see and follow me. I had left my hotel room in order to scout out the docks and beach and see if I could find a good, isolated spot to take off from tonight.
This was the first time I’d traveled any significant distance by myself. Sure, I’d gone on field trips and family vacations across the state and even country, but this was the first time I’d ever left Rumsfeld entirely on my own. Dad had insisted on coming with me, but I told him and Mom that they were much safer in Rumsfeld. The closer I got to Icon’s base, the more dangerous it would be for both them and me. Icon had already tried to harm my parents before. I didn’t want to put them in harm’s way again.
I had to admit, though, that I was a bit lonely. The hotel I stayed in was nice, but without any friends or family, I really did feel like I was all on my own. I’d even considered heading back to Rumsfeld, because the idea of assaulting Icon’s island base alone—which I knew practically nothing about—was very overwhelming, even though I knew I needed to do it, because that was where my grandfather and the original Trickshot, Gregory McDonald, was being held prisoner.
Soft footsteps again. This time, there was no mistaking them for anything other than what they were. Someone was following me, like an Icon agent. I wasn’t in costume at the moment, but that didn’t mean I was entirely useless.
I drew three small Trickshot disks out of my pocket and whirled around and threw them behind me. They didn’t fly nearly as well as they did whenever I used my powers, but I did hear someone jump to the side as the disks flew through the air. The disks clattered against the pavement, but that was okay, because I now knew that there was definitely someone here, even though I couldn’t see them.
“I hear you!” I shouted. “Why not just show yourself? Are you scared of a teenager like me?”
No response, but frankly I didn’t expect one anyway. Whoever was following me was obviously smart enough to keep quiet. Looked like I was going to need to make them show themselves.
I dropped my backpack on the ground and hit the TRANSFORMATION button on the Watch. In the next instant, I was covered head to toe in the Trickshot costume, with my cape flowing out behind me and my fists balled.
“I know you’re there, but if you think the fact that you’re invisible means I can’t hit you, then you’re about to be proved wrong,” I said, “in the most painful way possible.”
I rapidly drew twenty Trickshot disks from my pouch and hurled them all against the pavement. All of the disks started bouncing off every conceivable surface in the alleyway, bouncing off the walls and pavement with blinding speed. If the invisible person was here, then at least one of the disks ought to hit him. There were too many disks bouncing off the alleyway too quickly for anyone to dodge. Even I wouldn’t be able to dodge all of them if I tried and I doubted this idiot would be able to
, either.
But then I felt something slam into the back of my knees and I fell forward. I broke the fall with my hands, but rolled over onto my back and kicked out. My foot connected with someone’s shin and I heard a cry of pain—which sounded feminine—and then a woman appeared before me.
She was a pretty young woman, barely out of her twenties most likely, but she looked incredibly goth, with pitch black hair, skin as pale as a ghost, and dark clothes to match. Tears appeared in the corners of her eyes as she clutched her shin and bounced backward on her other leg.
“Ow!” the woman said. “That hurt!”
“Kind of the point, lady,” I said.
I jumped to my feet and rushed toward her. Before the woman could react, I’d grabbed her and pinned her against the wall, twisting both of her arms behind her back to make sure she didn’t try anything. She struggled against my grip, but it was obvious that she was not even remotely strong enough to break my iron grip.
“Let me go,” said the woman in a whiny voice. “You’re hurting me.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re the lamest would-be assassin ever, you know that? The last assassin Icon sent against me wasn’t anywhere nearly as whiny as you.”
Confusion flickered across the woman’s face. “Assassin? I’m not an assassin. I’m not even with Icon.”
“And you’re a bad liar, too,” I said. “Seriously, I thought you guys were good at lying. Try something a bit more convincing than—”
Suddenly, someone grabbed my cape and yanked me backwards. I let go of the woman and before I knew it, I was thrown at the wall on the other side of the alley. I slammed into the wall hard enough to leave an imprint shaped like myself and fell down onto the pavement. The crash didn’t really hurt—super durability was a really useful power—but I was nonetheless surprised by the impact of the throw, mostly because I hadn’t been expecting it.