Minutes later, he landed on the front steps of the police station and let himself in. The officer at the desk exhaled a sigh of relief when he saw Blue Spekter and buzzed him through.
“They’ve been waiting for you, but they don’t know how to contact you. Nobody could get into the chief’s phone without her passcode.”
Blue Spekter nodded and entered the inner sanctum of the police station and walked to Chief Applegate’s office, but Lieutenant Doral saw him through the glass walls of the situation room and immediately flagged him over.
Blue Spekter entered the room and Doral spoke. “Finally. Seriously, Blue, I need your number before you leave. Chief Applegate’s phone is locked and we have no way to contact you. It’s not like we have a BatSignal on the roof.”
Blue Spekter nodded. “I heard, sorry. I’m surprised nobody came to get me at school, which is where I was all day,” Blue Spekter said, lifting his hands in disbelief.
Lieutenant Doral looked at the personnel in the room and raised his hands in exasperation. “Wow, nobody thought of that? Not one single person remembered he’s a high school student? All day? Really? What are we, a bunch of morons?”
The detectives, agents, and officers in room shrugged and looked at each other with embarrassment. Blue Spekter shook his head. “I’m here now, so tell me what happened.”
Doral relayed the story as they knew it, beginning with reports of Dark Flame’s attack on Chief Applegate’s cruiser on the highway, which had been confirmed by multiple sightings of drivers, witnesses who saw him flying over the city, and those who saw him flip the DHS SUV into the river.
“Are they both dead?” Blue Spekter asked, mild pangs of sorrow tugging at his heartstrings.
Doral shook his head. “No, we misled the press and they lied to the public so Dark Flame wouldn’t come after them again in the hospital and endanger more people. They have serious injuries—more so Applegate—but the good news is they are alive and on the mend.”
Blue Spekter leaned against a desk. “Oh, that’s great, and really smart thinking.”
“I need you to get the team together. You said you had an idea of how to stop him; it’s time we put that plan into action. I’m pretty sure it’s going to take all of us.”
“Me too,” a middle-aged, taller, and sinewy man said.
“And you are?” Blue Spekter asked.
“I am Agent Hartman. I have been following the case and will be taking over for Agent Potter until he is able to return to active duty.”
“And you’ve vetted him?” Blue Spekter asked, looking at Lieutenant Doral. “Are you absolutely certain he is not a member of The Order?”
Lieutenant Doral shrugged. “If he is, I’ll let you deal with him.” Doral’s eyebrows bounced with amusement.
Agent Hartman looked at him without amusement. “Son, I served two tours overseas with United States Army. I am not a member of this nefarious and mysterious Order.”
“Okay.” Blue Spekter said. “We need a place to meet and I will summon anyone who is available.”
“Why not just meet here?” Doral asked.
“Not everyone wants to be involuntarily introduced to the police,” Blue Spekter responded.
“Should we meet at your house then?” Doral asked, his voice loaded with frustration.
“Book the hotel conference room again for tomorrow,” Blue Spekter said. “That’s where we’ll meet until we find a safer place.”
Doral threw up his hands. “Like I have a budget to book fancy conference rooms in expensive Portsmouth hotels?”
“I’ll cover it,” Hartman interjected. “Dark Flame needs to be taken down.”
“No, he needs to be rescued,” Blue Spekter replied.
Hartman looked at him incredulously.
Blue Spekter grabbed a pen and a blue Post-it note from a nearby desk and scrawled his phone number on it. Then, he dropped the pen on the desk and handed the Post-it to Lieutenant Doral. “Make sure that doesn’t get out. I value my privacy, and so does my family.”
❖
The next day, Quinn met with his team in the hotel’s conference room and addressed them.
“I know what I have to do, but I need your help,” Quinn said, looking at Ana Maria. She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.
“Ana Maria, I cannot do this alone,” he said forcefully. “I need Blake’s help to stop Victor, but he won’t help me until we kill the thing in his head. You have to help me capture Blake.”
Ana Maria swallowed nervously. “I can’t.”
“You can, and you will,” Quinn said assertively, tapping a finger on the table.
Ron cleared his throat and Quinn noted the building tension in the room. “Quinn, why don’t you tell us how you plan to neutralize the micro bug? Perhaps that might help Ana Maria understand what you expect from her.”
Quinn nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay. Based on our battles so far, I don’t think he can harness electricity yet. I’ll get in front of him and keep him occupied. With his attention focused on me, Ana Maria will sneak up behind him and grab him physically or with a powerful telekinetic field.”
“How will she sneak up on him if you all can, uh, sense one another?” David asked.
“I can mask my presence from them, and I taught Quinn how to do the same.” Ana Maria volunteered.
Quinn smiled. Nice of you to jump in, finally. I’ll take that as a sign of your willingness to help.
“When we initially sense one another, we get this…mental notification in our heads. I’m betting that when she reveals herself to Blake, the proximity sense of a third superhuman will catch him completely off-guard. That’s when I’ll zip in and put my hands on either side of the back of his head. Then, I’m going to electrocute him with everything I can muster and and burn it out.”
“You’re going to lobotomize your best friend?” David asked, concerned.
“It’s gonna hurt like hell and I’m not looking forward to it, but there’s no other way to remove the chip. We’re invulnerable to knives and bullets, so that rules out surgery.”
“You’re counting on his healing factor to heal his brain and regenerate the organic matter you burn away in the process?” Ana Maria asked.
Quinn nodded. “Unless anyone else knows how to cut into him or get to his brainstem from his ear canal, that’s the plan.”
“His brainstem?” David asked, wincing.
“That’s where the micro bug implants itself.” He explained what he learned from his experience at Rangeley, when Mother Superior and Dr. Madison were talking about implanting him.
“That’s disgusting,” David exclaimed.
“What do you think this is going to solve?” Lieutenant Doral asked, frowning.
“The person running around as Dark Flame isn’t Blake. He hasn’t been himself since…well, since our first fight. He’s cruel, mean, and not the guy I chummed around with for most of my life. When I get that chip out of him, I think he’ll change back to the good person I know he is.”
“People don’t change. They find new ways to lie,” Lieutenant Doral.
Quinn shook his head and looked at him with disappointment. “I refuse to accept that depressing worldview, Lieutenant. Dark Flame is not Blake. He’s under the influence of a malfunctioning micro bug. If I short it out, burn it out, or just plain kill it, we get Blake back. I know it. At the very least, I have to try.”
“Then, we work together to take down The Order and bring Victor in?” David asked.
“No, then we arrest him for the crimes he’s committed,” Doral said.
“Under the influence of an evil micro bug thing,” Quinn interjected, feeling exasperated.
“He’s right,” Agent Hartman said. “Though I was taken aback by Agent Potter’s decision to collaborate with you, I pushed my doubts aside when I saw you in action. That said, I believe you are right—we need to remove the bad tech first. His will and freedom of choice may be compromised.”
Doral regarded him with surprise. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him.”
“Lieutenant, if that kid’s brain is screwed up because it’s under the influence of a sinister or malfunctioning micro bug, then he’s never had a fair shot at becoming a good guy like Blue Spekter.”
“Who on earth is going to accept him?” Lieutenant Doral fired back, his frustration mounting. “He’s murdered people and fought against Blue Spekter in spectacular battles the public saw, videotaped with their smartphones, and posted to YouTube and other social media sites. We can’t contain this or do damage control, sir.”
“Then you better hope he comes around when Blue Spekter destroys that micro bug because we have no prison that will hold him.”
“What if he doesn’t come around and he needs to be…put down?” Doral asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“Then we’ll take care of him,” Ana Maria interjected.
“No, I’ll take care of him. He’s my best friend; I should be the one to do it.” Quinn turned to Agent Hartman. “If things go south, I need your people ready with TaseBolts.”
“You’ll have them.”
“What about my people?” the lieutenant asked. “Our firearms are ineffective against all of you. We’re useless against Dark Flame.”
“I need your officers conducting crowd control. However, it just so happens that several crates of TaseBolts recently arrived, Lieutenant. I’ll be happy to have our people train your officers as soon as possible.”
Lieutenant Doral nodded with appreciation. “Thank you.”
“So, once we save Blake, then we work together to take down The Order and bring Victor in?” David asked.
Quinn nodded. “Yes.”
Everyone around him nodded their assent.
“Great, now we just have to choose where. It would help if we knew where Blake lived.”
“Oh, I thought you knew already,” Ana Maria said, looking at him with concern and surprise.
“Hell no, I can never find him when I fly around Portsmouth.”
“That’s because he lives in a condo on Badger Island.”
Are you kidding me? Quinn sighed. “That explains why I never found him. I tend to avoid flying near the shipyard, so I don’t tip him off to my reconnaissance flights. I can’t believe he was right under my nose all this time.”
“So, this begs the simple question: when do we attempt to rescue Blake?” David asked.
“As soon as my people train the police on how to use the TaseBolts,” Agent Hartman said.
“And how long will that take?”
Agent Hartman glanced at Lieutenant Doral. “A couple of days, assuming the police can rotate through training during their shifts.”
Doral nodded. “Yes, I’ll make sure the staff sergeants arrange for that. Let’s say three days, can it wait until then, Quinn?”
“Yes,” Quinn replied.
“Very well, then,” Ana Maria said. “Quinn and I will come up with a feasible plan to lure Blake someplace where we can capture and free him from the micro bug. We will make sure your people surround the location beforehand.”
Once again, they all nodded in the meeting adjourned. Quinn smiled, eager and hopeful to have his friend back.
4-18 | A Whole New Level of Low
Blake
THE EVENING OF THE FIRST DAY of Hanukkah arrived, and so did Absalom Miller—an added bonus Blake eagerly anticipated. Surprisingly, the Archimandrite and his wife pulled up to Keegan’s home in an expensive-looking sedan without a compliment of security.
His family mustn’t know…which means he hides that part of his life from them.
Flying high above the Miller’s home, Blake circled a few more times before swooping down and landing near the front door. Inside the house, he heard excited voices greeting one another. He approached and knocked on the door.
Keegan’s mother opened the door and looked at him with concerned eyes. “Yes, can I help you?”
“I’m one of Keegan’s friends. Is he around?”
“Yes, but this isn’t a very good time, you see, his grandparents…”
Blake studied her facial features and interrupted her. “I know, it’s the first day of Hanukkah. I’m actually here for Absalom, too. By the looks of it, he’s your father, right?”
“Y-yes.” She frowned.
“Do you know what your father does for work, Mrs. Miller?”
She blinked and stared at him with annoyance. “Is this a prank?”
“What’s going on? I heard my name,” Absalom said, stepping closer to his daughter. When his eyes landed on Blake, his face turned pale with fear.
“You!”
“Hi, Absalom. It’s time we talk, don’t you think?” Blake stepped forward and pushed the door open, surprising Mrs. Miller.
Just inside, Keegan saw Blake and his face conveyed alarm. “Oh shit.”
“Language, Granny’s here.” Blake said, grinning wickedly.
“Excuse me, young man,” Keegan’s father said, incensed at the intrusion. He stepped forward to intervene, but Blake pushed him into a nearby doorframe where he hit his head, then slumped to the floor unconscious. Mrs. Miller gasped and cover her mouth with her hands.
“Keegan, it’s nice to have your grandparents in town, isn’t it? Why don’t we all go into the living room and chat.”
“What do you want?” Keegan barked, but his voice wavered with fear.
“When I’m done here, you’re coming with me. But first, your granddaddy Absalom has a confession to make.”
“No, please, don’t endanger my family…my grandson” Absalom begged.
“What is he talking about?” Mrs. Miller asked.
Blake shut the front door behind him and then reached out and grabbed Absalom with his mind, lifting him off the floor several inches. Blake’s eyes glowed orange. “I said, let’s go into the living room and talk. You already know what happens when you piss me off, don’t you, Absalom?”
“Oh, my goodness, it’s you!” Mrs. Miller said, surprised, backing toward another doorway.
“Do what he says,” Keegan’s grandfather croaked out.
“That’s right. Please lead us to the living room, Mrs. Miller, right now,” Blake ordered, advancing on her and pulling Absalom through the air behind him. A minute later, everyone was in the living room and Blake released Absalom. The man fell into a seat on the couch.
Blake sat in the armchair next to him and powered down his eyes. “Now, you’re going to tell everyone what you really do for work.”
Absalom sighed and his wife looked at him with worry in his eyes.
“Just tell them the truth, Abby,” she said.
“Mom, what is he talking about?” Mrs. Miller asked.
Absalom seemed to age in seconds as he cleared his throat. “Keegan, I had hoped to introduce you to my line of work at a different time and place, but…”
“Get on with it,” Blake growled.
“I don’t work for a Wall Street financial firm,” Absalom said.
Keegan looked at his grandfather with wide eyes. “Wait, so you don’t work for Morgan Stanley?”
“No,” he replied.
“What?” Mrs. Miller said, startled by the revelation.
Keegan folded his arms. “But you always give me a check at Hanukkah for my Morgan Stanley college fund.”
“That has always been true,” Absalom said. Then, he explained his involvement with The Order, but slanted the story to favor developing technologies for weather control to avoid catastrophic weather events.
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Mrs. Miller said, glaring at Blake.
“Keep going, Absalom.”
“One of our facilities is responsible for the creation of Dark Flame and Blue Spekter. As I understand it, the boys were camping with their families over Labor Day weekend and wandered into one of our energy facilities in the woods of Maine. They accidentally triggered the process that dowsed them in a stream of pure o
rgone energy. They should have died, but they survived and gained superpowers. They are living miracles.”
“How do you know we should have died?” Blake pressed, gloating as the man became uncomfortable. “What happened before that would make you think we should have died?”
Absalom sighed again and nervously cleared his throat. “There was an initiative in the 1960s, well before my time in The Order or my status as an Archi…a council member. During the height of the Cold War, private organizations such as The Order sought to make a profit by innovating creative solutions that could secure global safety. One of these initiatives was called Project Genesis, and its goal was to infuse humans with orgone and create superhumans who could police the globe and keep the planet safe.”
Keegan’s family looked at each other with wonderment.
“The program failed and was abandoned shortly after it started. However, when Blue Spekter appeared on the scene, we realized Quinn—and later Blake—survived the orgone infusion that induced the accidental awakening of their powers. One of our operatives convinced us to pick up where we left off with Project Genesis II…and so, we have.”
Blake smirked and took over the story. “That operative’s name is Victor Kraze and he insisted on training me and Quinn, so we could help The Order take out anyone who stood in its way.”
“Take out? Do you mean murder?” Mrs. Miller asked, horrified.
Blake shrugged. “Is it murder in war? There are criminals and terrorists across the planet who walk around unchecked and unpunished. That’s what I was promised; an opportunity to build a grand, new world order that would be safe from bombers and terrorists and everyone else who wants to blow someone up in the name of hate or religion. Imagine the peace and security we could have if we took out all the nasty people like that.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Keegan said.
“Hush,” his mother said.
“Except, Blue Spekter wants nothing to do with it. He would rather destroy The Order and let chaos rain instead of tackling the problem head-on.”
“Just what is it you’re trying to prove, here?” Absalom asked. “You murdered over half the Council in the name of what? Justice?”
The Guardians Omnibus Page 89