He stepped forward and roared at response at her. “Stop trying to confuse me! I am thinking for myself!”
“No, you’re doing exactly what Victor wants you to do.”
She’s trying to convince me to join with Quinn. Time to end this. Dark Flame took a deep breath. “This ends now, Chief; you’ve gotten sloppy and it’s time to remove you from the equation. You betrayed The Order and an example must be made to show anyone who would seek to betray us that treachery will not be tolerated or forgiven.”
“Are you threatening me?” Chief Applegate exclaimed, lowering her firearm a little. “Here, in the police yard?”
Dark Flame smirked. “What better place to send a message to your traitorous allies, fellow cops, and the Department of Homeland Security than right here?”
“Blake, you don’t have to do what Victor tells you to do!” she restated, her aim true once again.
How do you know my real name? Victor said you didn’t know who we were…of course…Quinn’s tattling mouth!
Dark Flame’s face twisted. “Yes, I do.” Then, his entire body ignited with purple and orange flame and he extended his hands toward her.
3-15 | Clash of the Titans
Quinn
“QUINN, HOLD UP PLEASE,” MR. St. Germain said softly after the bell rang. Quinn nodded and slowly packed up his books, allowing the rest of his classmates to file out of the science lab. When they were alone, his teacher stopped erasing the whiteboard and smiled. “I have something for you and given the superhero event on the interstate this week, it’s long overdue. Can you stop by after school?”
The twinkle in his eye told Quinn it would be exciting. “No way, do you really have it?”
“Maybe,” his mentor answered, winking at him.
Quinn smiled then frowned. “Shoot, I have to work right after school,” he answered.
“How about after work?” Mr. St. Germain countered. Then, he lowered his voice. “Come by the house?”
Quinn shrugged. “I’m meeting with Ana Maria after work at seven for an hour. Uh, sure, I can be there just after eight-thirty. I need to tell my dads what I’m doing, though.”
Ron chuckled, then spoke up, “How about this; you’re hanging out with a friend from school for a few minutes. Man, I can’t believe I’m adding to the pile of lies you’re already telling your dads; Stephanie would kill me. Otherwise, I’m glad you’re meeting with her. I hope she has some valuable information for you.”
Quinn nodded. “Me too. Okay, see you then, Mr. St. Germain.”
❖
“Victor Kraze is a megalomaniac. He is an ambitious, driven man with a strategic plan to usurp the Archimandrion Council. Don’t think for one minute it was an accident or an impulsive choice on Blake’s part to kill Mother Superior; Victor needed her out of the way and used Blake to achieve that goal.”
“What?” Quinn asked, startled by the revelation. He kept his voice low because he didn’t want the employee at the counter at Riverrun Bookstore to overhear their conversation. They pretended to look at books as they spoke. “Are you telling me Blake went along with some plan to…kill her?” he asked in a hushed whisper.
Ana Maria took a deep breath and nodded. “Victor is the grandmaster; the puppeteer pulling all the strings. For a time, he pulled your strings, but you cut yourself free when you decided not to follow him. Though it has thrown a wrench in his plans, he will have had contingencies for that. I cannot confirm whether Blake knew of his plans or not, but that is moot at this point in time.”
Quinn sighed. “I knew Blake wasn’t telling me the entire truth when we went back to destroy the Rangeley facility, but I never expected him to betray me like that.”
Ana Maria nodded. “Victor is a snake oil salesman. I’ve observed him wheel and deal an amazing story to get people on his side. Unfortunately, Blake’s life and home situation more than primed him to be charmed and seduced by Victor’s promises of a better life.”
Quinn picked up on her angry tone. “You really don’t like him, do you?”
She shook her head. “He has the tenacity to succeed where others have failed. If there is a way to replicate the accident that created you, he will figure it out because that’s how he’ll trick the Archimandrion into rewarding him. Then he’ll pull the rug out from under their feet.”
“So, does Victor want money or power?”
“I’ve followed The Order and his rapid ascension within the ranks for years, but even I don’t have a good handle on his true ambitions. I suspect he will take whatever he can acquire.”
Quinn stared at his half-empty coffee for a moment as he recalled his conversation with Victor and Blake in the Portsmouth Trading warehouse. “He told us he didn’t want global domination and gave us this whole speech about how it would be impossible to control the globe.”
Ana Maria snorted. “Victor lies a lot. You must always remember he has an agenda and he will say anything to get what he wants, all the while confusing others by masking his true desires. Whatever his goals and ambitions, you can be sure it involves some kind of domination somewhere. Why else would you need a super-powered army?”
Quinn shrugged. “He’s convinced Blake to believe he’ll have some major part in going after the criminals no one can touch. Even though I disagree with his methods, taking out the world’s terrorists and untouchable criminals kind of makes sense, don’t you think?”
She cocked her head. “Think this through, Quinn. If Victor wipes out the criminal underworld, he’ll replace them with a more lethal variant that’s completely loyal to him through the micro bug or control chip thing. The eliminated criminals idea may have merit in the moment, but once Victor’s super thugs are in power, everyone will wonder what the heck happened. He won’t stop at the criminals; he’ll go after those in power and replace them with his own cultishly loyal and fanatic followers. Freedom will become a commodity no one will be able to take for granted.
Quinn regarded her skeptically.
She knowingly smiled at him. “You don’t have to take everything I say as absolute truth, these are the conclusions and opinions of my research. I can only guide you, Quinn. You must choose your own path.”
He nodded. “Thank you. I want to trust you, but a lot of things don’t make sense. I just know what I have to do.”
“And what is that?”
“Exactly what I said the other night at Ron’s house after the Goodwin Park mess. I want to be a real superhero; to save people; to be a real-life Superman.”
Ana Maria nodded. “That is good to hear. Let us hope that when the time comes, you are ready for the ultimate sacrifice a superhero must make.”
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She smiled, but it was strained. “You like comics, right? I’m surprised your mentor hasn’t discussed this with you. All superheroes make some sort of sacrifice. I doubt you will be exempt from this truth.”
Quinn took a deep breath and nodded, recalling the manifesto Ron wrote for him. “We talked about this. It’s actually the second point of the Superhero Responsibilities Manifesto he created for me.”
Ana Maria smirked with amusement. “Curious. I’d love to see that someday.” She shifted her stance and leaned closer. “Tell me, have you learned how to channel your energy yet?”
He stared at her blankly and shook his head.
“You might have a different name for it, but it’s when you summon orgone and create a directed energy blast.”
“Uh, like a laser beam?” Quinn asked.
She nodded. “That is…a fair analogy.”
“Will you teach me?” he asked as the door to the shop jingled. Several people entered the bookstore, laughing about something they said on the sidewalk.
She smiled. “Absolutely, Quinn. I’ll also teach you how to absorb energy attacks and mask your presence from Blake and me.”
❖
Quinn sat on the couch he found himself waking up on the night he was a
ttacked in Goodwin Park. Ron and Stephanie walked back into the living room, each carrying a clothing box that resembled a department store holiday gift box. Each was wrapped with a blue ribbon.
“This is for you, Blue Spekter,” Ron said. Stephanie grinned from ear to ear as her husband handed Quinn the first box. She sat down in one of the chairs next to the couch.
“This isn’t a joke, right? This is what I think it is?” Quinn asked, looking up at his mentor.
Ron and Stephanie looked at each other and smiled mischievously. “Well, it’s not a new car if you were expecting one,” Ron quipped.
Quinn laughed and shook his head. “Nope.”
“You should know my brother Jeremy begged and pleaded to meet you, but I said no for now. I feel like such a jerk, but I know you can’t risk giving up your secret identity. Anyway, this, Quinn McAlester, is your first official superhero suit.” He extended his hand toward the box as he spoke.
Quinn lifted and shook the box. “This seems much lighter than the leather BMX jacket you showed me before.”
Ron grinned and sat next to him on the couch. “Yeah, so about that. Based on our second conversation and the technology at Jeremy’s disposal, we opted for a classic, easily recognizable super suit, but don’t worry, it’s not quite the Olympic-style, glitter-laden spandex ice skating bodysuit you hoped for.”
“Oh geez,” Quinn said, chuckling and rolling his eyes. Then, he slid the ribbon off the box and pulled the cover off. Setting it aside, he gently unfolded the blue and white tissue paper.
“Oh wow,” he said, his face lighting up with surprise and excitement. “So, this is what we talked about, then?”
Ron smiled, and his face lit up with geekish excitement. “A little bit of both. Jeremy and I discussed several designs but ultimately settled on practicality and what we knew would work best.”
“How so?” Quinn said, admiring the richly blended, cobalt and azure blue hues of the fabric in the box.
“Remember when I said I didn’t have access to advanced superhero fabrics?”
“Yeah,” Quinn answered.
“Well, I wasn’t entirely honest about that because I didn’t know what Jeremy could do these days. Your suit is made from a proprietary blend of materials my brother invented that the world has never seen before—mostly. You know how people talk about making the president’s business suits bulletproof?
Quinn nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Of course, nobody knows if they’re bulletproof or not, but if they are, this suit is ten times better.”
Ron paused for dramatic effect. “The fabric of your super-suit is a Kevlar-reinforced, synthetic spider silk blend which makes it super strong, durable, lightweight, breathable, and it disperses kinetic energy away from you—not that it will matter since you seem pretty indestructible. It’s also a flight-friendly fabric, meaning it’s low-friction. That means it has almost zero drag, unlike like normal clothes.”
“Why on earth did your brother invent this?” Quinn asked.
“His company lost the contract for the high-end bulletproof business suit fabrics to a shady, low-bidder. It really sucks when you’re undercut by an inferior product.”
“So, he’s sitting on all this technology that no one wants?”
Ron shrugged. “Someone wants it now, and he’s giving it to you.”
Quinn pulled the top garment out of the box and grinned as he studied the blue material. Small hexagons woven into the fabric brought elasticity and strength to the material in his fingers. There was some extra material on the backside of the neck, but he was too engrossed in the colors to examine it. Near the neck, the color was lightest. The hues of blue changed to medium blues as the color gradient darkened from the neck to the waist.
“After I explained how your body glowing mechanics worked and told him what you wanted from our discussion, my brother knew what to make. So, what you’re looking at resembles the Flash’s two-piece suit from the CW television show with the lightweight thinness of Spider-Man’s one-piece suit. We agreed we didn’t like the mechanics of a one-piece bodysuit because we both used to surf. Trust me when I tell you what a pain in the ass pulling on and off a wetsuit in a hurry can be. When Blue Spekter is needed, you won’t have time to waste. With this configuration, slip into the bottoms, pull on the top, and you’re ready to go.”
“There’s a pair of special boots and a belt in this box, too,” Stephanie said, handing him the box.
Quinn handed the top piece to Ron and set the first box aside. He pulled the ribbon and cover off the second box. Wrapped in blue and white tissue paper were a pair of rubber-soled dark-blue, nearly black boots and a matching belt.
“Oh wow!”
“Wait, let’s put this all together.” Ron stood and handed the pants to his wife. Then, he suspended the costume top over his outstretched arm. Stephanie unfolded the pants and held them up near the waist of the shirt. Quinn set the boots on the floor and held the color-matched belt in place at the waist.
“Do you know how hard it is to find a super suit costume pattern that’s not already taken or copyrighted by the comic houses?” Ron asked.
“No, not really,” Quinn answered truthfully.
“Not that I think they’d sue you given you’re real and their creations are, well, creations, but still, we were up for the challenge.”
“This is incredible,” Quinn answered, giddy at the awesomeness of his outfit. Like the costume’s top piece, the cobalt and azure blue hues darkened as the colors moved down from the waist to the ankles to a dark blue, almost black color. The boots matched, and they looked futuristic and cool, not clunky or awkward.
“The design is awesome. I’m speechless. This is way more than I expected. I honestly thought I was going to be wearing a leather jacket.”
“So, the only thing we took from the jacket, and Superman’s newer movie costumes, are the muscle tone accents you’ll notice when you’re wearing the costume.”
Quinn studied the costume and saw subtle shifts in the hexagonal patterns that would emphasize the underlying muscles of his abs, pectorals, biceps, and probably his legs and back as well. He knew it would make him appear visually striking and stronger.
“By the way, this is the best part,” Ron said. Holding both shoulders of the shirt, he flipped the extra fabric from the back to the front. “This is your cowl. It’s made to fit over your head and face like the Flash’s cowl does.”
Quinn smiled. “This is so cool.”
“Would you like to try it on?” Stephanie asked.
“Absolutely,” Quinn said.
They handed him the costume pieces and pointed toward the back bedroom. Quinn dashed away and stripped, forgetting to close the door. Ron spoke to him from the other room as he changed.
“My brother suggested you wear some kind of sports or dry wick underwear under the pants. If you want to, you could also wear a dry wick shirt, but otherwise the material should not be irritating to your body. Obviously, do what works best for you.”
“Okay,” Quinn answered, tossing his clothes on the guest bed. Then, he pulled on the tights, the top, slipped into the futuristic-looking boots that mimicked the skin-tight appearance of his tights, and clicked the belt into place. A special piece of modesty fabric kept his genitals hidden from public view, an attention to detail he appreciated. Then, he stepped into the living room and faced Ron and Stephanie. Their eyes and awe-struck faces told him all he needed to know as he slid the cowl into place over his head and illuminated his eyes.
“That is so freaking awesome!” Ron shouted, mouth agape. Quinn chuckled as he watched his mentor embrace his nerdiest self in Blue Spekter’s presence. Then, he made his body glow—and it was startlingly bright.
“Oh wow, I had no idea how much jeans and sweatpants were dimming my super-light.”
“You look great!” Stephanie exclaimed.
“What’s this for?” Quinn asked, pulling at the waistband and pointing at extra fabric on the inside
of his right hip.”
“I’m not looking down your trousers, Quinn,” Ron quipped.
Quinn rolled his eyes and chuckled.
“It’s a pocket for your phone,” Ron answered.
“Oh wow, that’s awesome.”
“My brother is making a few more suits for you; I’ll have them in a day or two. We can evolve the costume as you use it, but we’ll need your feedback to improve its design.”
“There’s already one problem,” Quinn said.
“What’s that?” Ron asked, an eyebrow raised in concern.
“I love it!”
They laughed and smiled as Quinn took a few minutes to flex and pose in the large mirror mounted over the bureau in the guest bedroom. Ron was right; the hexagonal patterns and anatomical accents emphasized the strength of his developed muscles and he loved it.
❖
The next day, Quinn feigned sickness so he could stay home from school—something he never did—and his trusting dads allowed him to stay home. He used the morning to get ahead on a project for school and when he felt distracted, he researched orgone energy on the Internet again. While the former proved productive, the latter offered no more success than his previous attempts. His cellphone alarm rang at eleven fifteen and he texted his dads to let them know he was feeling better and had done some homework.
That ought to keep them from checking in for the next hour or so.
He pulled out his new super suit and slipped into it. He set the cowl into place and flexed in the mirror a few times, admiring the way the suit emphasized his muscle tone. Then, he closed his bedroom door, turned invisible, and slipped out one of the windows.
Blue Spekter flew toward Pease Trade Port and spotted the damaged Stratotanker on the tarmac, still parked in between several other tankers. As expected, he saw Captain Prett pacing back-and-forth in front of the broken aircraft. Blue Spekter slowed his approach and called out, “Arms up!”
David spun around and looked up at him, confused.
“Arms up and turn around!” Blue Spekter called out again. David did as he was told. Without landing, Blue Spekter swooped in behind him, wrapped his arms around David’s torso, and took off.
The Guardians Omnibus Page 66