The Last Watcher

by Kirk Twyman

  “Re-growing limbs is a bit trickier given all the nerve endings,” I said as I finished completing the settings. The incubator enshrouded Kerry with a swishing sound. “It will take a couple weeks.”

  “Need anything else?” George asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “This thing is mobile. I need you to take it to the transporter in case this place is compromised.”

  “Wouldn’t want you to hurt your back, old man,” George replied with a grin as he pushed the incubator to the transport.

  “What’s next?” Patricia asked as she watched Frank Chan follow George to the transport.

  “Heal up and fight back. There’s only one person we can trust that can also keep you safe,” I said. “The Emperor.”

  Patricia gave her usual business look. “The next step is reaching out to him.”

  “Already done,” I replied. “You need to keep training, and this is a contingency that we’ve planned for. This is the fight of our lives. We can’t afford to be anything but our best.”

  “And where does that leave you?” Patricia asked.

  “Well, I’m going to oversee your training from a different facility while I heal up,” I said. It was the sensible play of course.

  Which was exactly why my daughter wasn’t buying it.

  “I’m surprised Orra didn’t notice,” she said, straight-faced. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, trying to keep my poker face.

  While I should spend some time from my injuries, that’s what Orra and his lot expected. After all, humans break and they need time to mend. Every move I made now was one the enemy didn’t see coming.

  Of course, I couldn’t tell Patricia that. Not without worrying her any more than she usually did about her old man.

  We just burst out laughing. As the deep belly laugh subsided, I took her in my arms and held my daughter for the first time all night. She hugged me back, and for the first time in a long time, the world actually made sense.

  “You’re the strongest person in the world,” I told her. “You’ve trained your whole life for this. Keep going. I’ll see you soon.”

  “I know, daddy,” she said with a warm smile. I saw George approaching from the corner of my eye.

  “You’re going back to the Feds, ain’t you? Maybe collect some PTO or drop some more money in that 401k of yours?” I asked. George shrugged.

  “With this line of work,” he said. “It’s not like I’m going to ever need it.”

  “You watch your back,” I said. “Supers are one thing, but bureaucrats are something else entirely.”

  “True, but they’re my team,” he said. “They need me, especially if we’re going to win this fight.”

  And with that, he took me in a deep bear hug. “You be careful, old man!”

  I winced in pain. “Yeah, and you be careful with those ribs!”

  “Sorry,” he said.

  And then, for the second time that day, I burst out laughing. We both did.

  I looked back to my godson, Frank Chan, who continued to cast a worried glance at Kerry. I smiled at him as I knelt beside him, with some effort since I only had one good leg and put my hand on his shoulder.

  “He’s going to be okay,” I said. “But he’s going to need you to be strong. I’m going to need you to be strong. And so is your father.”

  He smiled and hugged me. It was the hardest hug I gave that day, because I knew what came next.

  I limped over the controls as Patricia, George, Frank Chan and the unconscious Kerry were all safely tucked within their individual pods. I flipped the switch and watched as dazzling energy flooded the room. I never got tired to seeing this. My daughter, my protégé, my godson and his brother . . . they were all transformed into silhouettes of light which faded almost as soon as the dazzling stars left my eyes.

  They were gone, each transported to a new location, away from Orra and his goons, and each with their own separate but crucial mission to perform.

  Which left me with one final mission to perform.

  One I had waited to undertake for so long.

  I limped over to a nearby computer chair with a small black bag on the arm and carefully sat down. It was good to relax in solitude and quiet, but unfortunately, this wasn’t solitude. As a Watcher, I knew the difference between being alone and actually alone.

  “You can come out now,” I said.

  A shadow every bit as maligned and maimed as myself limped into the light. Izuki, was in pretty bad shape. His right eye socket was crushed, and his face was covered horrible cuts and bruises, while his left arm hung down, broken in several places.

  “I’m an assassin,” Izuki said, his voice barely a wince. “I have done evil. I have taken lives. I have betrayed and been betrayed. But I have never been betrayed so deeply.”

  I regarded him for a moment, but I didn’t leave my chair. I opened the bag to reveal a red serum and syringe. As I injected this serum, which mainly consisted of adrenaline and a bunch of other things that would make me forget pain, I noticed how comfy this chair was, and besides, I wanted to see where this went.

  “I know the truth, Frank,” he said. “I know it was you who sent the warriors that killed my men and dismantled my organization.”

  I didn’t deny. How could I . . . when he was absolutely right.

  “I tried to tell your stupid ass to hang up your swords, but no, you were too fucking stubborn,” I said. “Honor before reason. But then again, it’s hard to have honor when you’re an assassin, right?”

  Izuki did not respond. Instead, he just gazed me through his one working eye.

  “I can’t say I’m surprised. Patricia could take most of your men when she was thirteen and could take the great Black Assassin by the time she could get a driver’s permit,” I said. “Once I knew what I was looking for, it was easy to train the others and especially Robert to achieve the same.”

  “Where . . . did you find . . . such eager warriors . . . to fight . . . ” Izuki knew the end was near. He was having trouble breathing out the words.

  “Why, your victims of course,” I smiled. “You and your color dedicated associates, left a trail of bodies by your own admission, but you also left sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, all equally eager to take up the sword against you.”

  “Just like . . . ” Izuki started.

  “I know it was you who killed my grandfather. And I know one of your crazy followers killed my father and uncle,” I said. “And I have to confess, I lied to you earlier.”

  “You’ve already stabbed me the back,” Izuki growled. “Why not twist the knife a bit more?”

  “I could never forgive you,” I said. “Not after what you did tonight. You killed my brother. He led the warriors, trained them since they were kids.”

  Izuki looked down the floor. The mighty Black Assassin, reduced to shamefully starring at the dirty ground.

  “You had your family, and I kept them safe,” I growled. “In spite of everything that happened, I kept them safe.”

  Izuki raised his one good eye to me.

  “I’m sorry, Frank. It was business,” he said.

  “He was my brother,” I scowled. “He didn’t deserve it God damn it.”

  Izuki moved fast, despite his injuries, as a silver gleam extended from his hands towards me. Had I not seen his godson perform that same move, it might have caught me off-guard. But as it stood, I simply grabbed the knife out of the air and threw it to the ground. Now the drugs were kicking in.

  “And was that just business?” I asked.

  “No,” Izuki said. “It was self-preservation, my friend.”

  I could see the reality was sinking in for Izuki. But I had to twist the metaphorical knife a bit more. It was the only way I could take him in a fair fight.

  “Friend? Our whole friendship was a fucking con to keep you in line until it was time to strike,” I said. “I wanted to vomit every time I shook your fucking hand, kn
owing I was looking at the same eyes that saw my own kin dying in their own blood.”

  “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Frank,” Izuki said. “But Orra is the new world order. And you and yours are part of old world.”

  Izuki drew his long katana with his one good arm. He would need two hands to wield it properly, which meant he’d be at a disadvantage when he faced me. But it also meant he was still a master assassin rushing at me with a big fucking sword. The only silver lining was that we were both a couple of old men beaten and bruised past our expiration date.

  I had been organizing weapons into a duffel back. I rushed to it, but Izuki beat me to it, narrowly missing my fingers with his sharpened blade. He hissed like a tiger ready to pounce and I drew back.

  “At least you could have the decency to die honorably, Frank,” Izuki said. I grinned.

  “Neither one of us have done an honorable thing in years,” I said. “Why start now?”

  In a fair fight, it was a fair question which of us would come out on top. I had a sprained ankle, a couple of broken ribs and a broken arm. At glance, Izuki had one good eye and a similarly broken arm, assuming there weren’t any other injuries I couldn’t see beneath the surface. Of course, neither of us was much for a fair fight, and I had drugs in my system that took away the pain, which would make things interesting.

  Izuki lunged at me but I slid the computer chair into his path and ran with a limp down the hallway. It was my base, so I figured I had the home court advantage. Of course, I also had a time limit. The shielding outside would only hold off the Supers for so long. Any minute now and they would break down the barrier, tear off the door and flood this place in search of me. I could take Izuki. I could even take Orra’s goons, but I couldn’t do both.

  I could hear Izuki’s wet labored panting from the blood in his lungs as he followed my trail. He was definitely hurt more than me. This was good. But Izuki also had two major advantages: two good, working legs. He would catch up to me eventually. I just had to be ready.

  “I took no joy in murdering your brother,” Izuki called out. “All these years I never knew who he was and that he was the one training those brats.”

  Memories of Gary flooded my conscious. I’d lost so much tonight, starting with Blaze, that I hadn’t even stopped to grieve my brother. I pushed it to the back of my mind, but when Izuki told me earlier tonight that he killed the teacher, it took all of my control not to kill him in front of his kids. I remembered Gary and I playing as kids. I remembered his having my back against the bullies. And I remembered him at Dad’s funeral, at my grandfather’s funeral, and at my uncle’s funeral. But now there was one more funeral I had to attend, all because of Izuki.

  There was a power pistol in reach. I could grab it and open up on Izuki immediately, but the Black Assassin would see such an attack coming. He would dodge every shot, no matter how well-laid, and then he would kill me.

  Izuki was a master assassin, capable of baiting and guiling his prey out into the open. I had to wonder who was stalking who. Had I really tricked the Black Assassin all these years, or was he merely luring me into a false sense of security?

  I considered my next option – a Fire capsule. It was a lot of more dangerous than the power pistol, with a wider range. But it was also one Fire capsule, and if I missed, then I was shit out of luck. With the power pistol, I’d at least have several shots.

  Then I realized the answer was starring me in the face the whole time. Izuki may have had two good legs, but I had another advantage.

  Two good eyes.

  “It is over, Frank,” Izuki announced. “Time to settle all accounts.”

  I affixed the fire capsule into a small hole in the wall – it wasn’t very hard considering all the moisture built up in the underground lair. Then I stepped out to face my family’s killer.

  “At last, we agree on something,” I said.

  Izuki drew in for the kill, his sword bared as he cautiously stepped towards me. He saw the power pistol in my grasp, but I didn’t raise it to shoot, not yet.

  “What will you tell the boys?” I asked with a hint of resignation in my voice. He knew the power pistol was an inadequate weapon. I let him know that I knew it too.

  “I will tell them that you turned the gun on yourself,” Izuki said. “It won’t be the first death I have arranged tonight.”

  Izuki could see the light come on in my mind.

  “Orion,” I said. “You killed him . . . and made it look like a suicide. But that means . . . you know what happened to Kerry.”

  “My son is strong,” Izuki said. “He will recover. After all, he has my blood.”

  “You really are a piece of shit,” I said. “All of this is just icing on the cake making it easier to kill you.”

  Izuki raised his sword to eye level and started to move towards me.

  “I appreciate your confidence, but it really is over, Frank,” he said as he came towards me with the sword.

  “That it is,” I said.

  I drew my power pistol and fired. As predicted, Izuki dodged the blast effortlessly, but I hadn’t really been aiming at him anyway. The blast soared past his bad eye and struck the Fire capsule loaded in the wall. The entire wall burst into flame, sending chucks of concrete flying in every direction, before the entire structure collapsed. Since Izuki’s depth perception had been reduced, he didn’t see it coming until it was too late and the slab fell upon him, pinning him to the floor. I heard the sickening sound of ribs cracking beneath the weight of the concrete. A thin of layer of blood flooded the space between us.

  “You . . . tricked me,” he said.

  “We’ve been tricking each other so many times over the years,” I said. “Let’s just say we’re even.”

  “This isn’t over for you,” Izuki remained defiant to the end. “My kin will end you.”

  “You should find some comfort that your boys will be safe,” I said. “I will raise them as my own. Unlike you, they’ll do good in this world. They already have.”

  “I . . . won’t allow it,” Izuki tried to roar, but I suspected he had a punctured lung.

  “I don’t think you have much choice in the matter,” I said as I went back to collecting gear and tossing into a duffel bag. Izuki remained at my feet.

  “You . . . won’t get away with this,” he groaned.

  “See, it’s not so fun to say that when the shoe is on the other foot,” I noticed.

  I turned on my security monitor. The Supers were having quite a bit of trouble with my energy field. I saw Strength Supreme and Mucus Man leading a bunch of Supers in pounding the energy shield with all the strength they could muster. Above them, I saw Orra and a couple of fliers launching a barrage of heat vision into the shield. I checked my monitors. My shields were down to twenty five percent. Fortunately, I had everything I needed now.

  The trick would be to time this just right. If I was lucky, I could take all of them down. I looked over my shoulder. Izuki was writhing beneath the rubble, but with a punctured lung, cracked ribs and a broken hand, he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. I turned my attention to Orras and the Supers. I turned on the speakers.

  “Hey Strength Supreme, is that your solution to everything?” I said. “Punch it really, really hard. Man, I’m surprised Blaze kept you at the front desk. You couldn’t even spell phone book, much less use one.”

  “Fuck you, Frank!” Strength Supreme yelled as he kept punching into the force field, with each blow outlining the sparking shield’s weakening frame.

  “Frank, this is over,” Orra said as he addressed my speaker box.

  “Actually, it’s not. I’m sitting pretty for once,” I said. “It’s a nice change of pace.”

  “I know how these places work,” Orra said. “I’ve registered four energy spikes since we arrived. My guess is your allies have already teleported out. That means it’s just you.”

  “I give that to you, Orra, you really don’t miss much,” I said.

  “
The only reason you haven’t teleported out yourself . . . is that you don’t have enough power,” Orra said into the speaker box. “You can keep this place shielded and hidden or you can teleport away, but you can’t do both. The second you drop the shields, I will find you. Even with electric interference, I know you are approximately one hundred yards away, behind two monitors, on the third door from the right down the stairs . . . “

  Orra’s words were meant to intimidate me. And they probably would have. Orra’s senses were extraordinary, but his skills of perception left something to be desired. It didn’t matter since I already had a back-up plan in place.

  “I’m impressed, Orra,” I said. “I guess we’ll have to see who’s right.”

  “We both know it’s me,” Orra said. “We both know there is no escape for you.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to see,” I said.

  “He’s right, Frank,” Izuki said weakly from beneath the rubble. “Help me free . . . and I will beside you . . . like old times. Perhaps together . . . we can kill Orra. We’ll at least take down a few of them.”

  “It’s tempting,” I said, pointing my power pistol at Izuki’s exposed head. “But that would require honor, and as previously established, neither of us has a taste for that.”

  “Then kill me!” Izuki said.

  “And give you a warrior’s death?” I shrugged. “I’ll pass.”

  “We’re coming in, Frank!” Orra declared.

  “Careful,” I said. “You might not like what you find.”

  Shields were down to ten percent. I switched off the cloaking device to boast its power. The downside was the entire safe house was now visible. The punches came faster and closer. They knew exactly where I was.

  I limped over to the transporter and set it to its highest power setting. Balls of energy began to float within the transporter, like large snowflakes in the middle of a blizzard. The transporter was trying to teleport a large amount of material, but there was nothing to teleport. The lights grew brighter and brighter, while on the console, yellow lights began to flash. The lack of any discernable material to teleport aside a few dust molecules was creating a feedback loop. The snowflake-shaped particles were now the size of glittering disco balls. The cautionary warning lights were now flashing red. Sparks began to emit from the transporter’s shell. The ground beneath my feet was beginning to rumble.