The Suns of Liberty: Legion: A Superhero Novel

by Lowell, Michael Ivan

  Surprisingly, a loud and enthusiastic round of applause broke out without the mayor or commish having to instigate it.

  Revolution glanced at Ward, who nodded and grinned. He was winning them over.

  “You have my word that the days of you and I being on opposing sides are over. Some people have called me a hero—some people have used a few other terms.”

  The room laughed.

  “But you are my heroes. You face the same thing I face every day and you do it without wearing armor. From this day forth, not only do I serve this country and its true ideals. I serve you.”

  The group applauded loudly, and more than a few stood, following the example of the two dignitaries on the stage.

  At the back of the room, a grizzled veteran threw down his badge—it clanged on the concrete floor—and marched out of the room. Revolution recognized him as Watson Timbeck. An officer he had tussled with a few months back and whose brother had died in the fight.

  It was going to take more than flowery speeches to win some hearts over to his side.

  After, the Suns stood and talked with the mayor as the commish strode off to do some damage control with the hard cases among his men.

  As the trio of Suns were exiting the large room and stepping out into the adjoining hallway, a woman wearing an expensive designer hoody stopped directly in front of the Revolution.

  “Could you spare a moment? I believe we have a mutual acquaintance,” she said with her head down.

  Ward couldn’t see her face, but the Revolution had gotten a glance at her and he stopped dead in his tracks.

  He just stood there.

  Ward and Lantern glanced at each other, unsure what was happening.

  “Yes,” Revolution said finally. Glancing around, his eyes settled on a nearby door. The door was closed but a placard next to it read Meeting Room. “Let’s step in here. Lantern, get back to the HQ and let me know as soon as anything changes.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lantern said.

  “Spider, do you mind guarding the door?”

  Ward nodded, and the Revolution led the mysterious woman into the small room and closed the door.

  They were in a small meeting room. He offered the mysterious woman a chair, and they both took seats at the table at the center of the room.

  “You’re not in New York anymore, Mrs. Sage. Whatever you’re up to, I can assure you the days of depending on the authorities here in Boston are over. The Council holds no more sway in this city than your husband does now over the Council.”

  Marguerite Sage winced. It still stung that her husband was no longer the chairman of the Freedom Council. “I figured you’d make this personal.”

  “It’s not personal, it’s the truth. Now, why are you here?”

  “To give you information.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Don’t be so sure. I sent the man you called Hunley the coordinates of the strike force that came to invade Boston that night. He never would have seen them coming were it not for my help.”

  Revolution said nothing.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Hunley’s dead.”

  “Yes, I know. But I had nothing to do with that.”

  That was probably true. “Why are you really here?”

  “I am here at considerable risk to myself, would you not agree?”

  “Considerable.”

  “I’ve come here because, despite who I am, I’m also a patriot. I believe in your cause, even though I love my husband.”

  Revolution cocked his head, but stayed silent.

  “Media Corp is breaking up,” she said.

  “Tragedy.”

  “It could be. It could give Tarleton a controlling stake in the Council. If that happens—”

  Revolution bolted upright in his seat. “Iron Fist. A return to the Purge.”

  “Yes, but it could also provide an opportunity. Many on that Council think he is too fanatical. They’re not as unified as you think. And they’re already angry about their stock prices falling. Tarleton will tilt the budget toward fighting you even more than Howke has. And likely bankrupt some of the Council firms while he’s at it. Some might even fall from the Council.”

  “Chaos,” Revolution said with some delight.

  She nodded.

  “And there’s something else,” she added. “I overheard one of Tom and Bill’s conversations. They’re trying to keep the split from happening, but they also talked about some kind of action against the Resistance. In two days. That’s all I know about it, but that gives you enough time to try and negotiate some kind of settlement. Put an end to this madness.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You don’t. But I’m here, as we’ve already agreed, at great personal risk. And you can judge for yourself if all of this plays out.”

  Revolution nodded, but Marguerite seemed to be trying to stare into his eyes. He waited to see what she would do, still not trusting her one inch.

  Several moments passed.

  Finally, she spoke again. “I’ve got to admit, I came here for another reason too.”

  Revolution stiffened in his chair.

  Marguerite took a deep breath. “I have a theory...”

  “Go on.”

  “You were on that plane, weren’t you?” she asked.

  “I don’t know what plane you’re referring to, but I doubt it. I don’t like to fly.”

  “The one that went down. Air Force One. All those years ago, during the Purge.”

  Revolution said nothing.

  “It’s okay, I won’t tell.”

  “My identity is not up for discussion.”

  “Where’s your family? Who’s looking out for them? How do you know they’re safe?”

  “I have no one you can threaten. I have only my mission.”

  “I know,” she said, as if she had proven something to herself. “That’s why you don’t care, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t care about what?”

  “Whether you live or die. Because your family was on that plane.”

  Revolution said nothing.

  Her eyes suddenly went wide. “Were you the president?” Marguerite paused in thought, wrapped up in her convictions. “I know this story well. Thomas talks about it all the time. There were four men of about your height, who also had their families aboard. A senator, a general, a military scientist, and the president himself. It’s one of the saddest parts of the story. It haunts him.”

  Again, Revolution said nothing.

  Her eyes moistened. “How did you survive?”

  “That matter is not up for discussion.”

  She nodded knowingly and turned to go. “I wasn’t, by the way.”

  “Wasn’t what?”

  “Threatening you.” She turned to him again. “I know what you must think of me, but my information is real. I love my country, Mr. President—”

  “I’m not the president.”

  “My true country,” she continued, ignoring his denial. “And I also love my husband, and I don’t want to see him crushed by”—she waved her hand around—“all of this.”

  “Good-bye, Mrs. Sage.”

  She nodded, gazed down at the floor for a moment, then back into his eyes, as if she was about to say something further—and she was gone.

  Revolution rose and paced slowly over to the flag, Old Glory, that was standing in the corner of the room, restored to its rightful place by the mayor’s office after the Council left Boston. He stared at the flag for several moments and was silent.

  Memories.

  Finally, he turned and hailed Lantern on his com.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “We’ve got some new intel.”

  CHAPTER 37

  BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

  TWO DAYS LATER

  Revolution and Ward were alone in the Situation Room watching the video feed from the shopping mall attack. On screen, Spectral was blocking the bomb blast.

  “Wha
t the hell is Lady Rage doing with Lithium? I thought she used to work for Bailey?” Ward asked.

  “That was a long time ago,” Revolution said.

  “Before the Resistance?”

  “Before there was a Freedom Council to resist. A lot’s changed since then.”

  “What about that Spectral thing? Doesn’t look overly friendly.”

  “He is more dangerous than she, in many ways. I cannot imagine two more formidable enemies. With those two on his side...” Revolution did not complete his thought. Instead, he turned to Ward. “Paul, I fear we’re at a crossroads now. I still believe we can win. I believe the people are still with us. But this victory...” He searched for the right words. “It won’t come without sacrifices.

  “Now, the Achilles heel of the Council lies in their vulnerability to financial panic. Always has. Even if they outgun us or overpower us, if we can sustain the assault, we will begin to build doubt in their investors. Some of it will be more than we can stand. But we must.”

  Ward had never heard Revolution speak like this; he didn’t know if he should feel inspired or scared shitless. But he also understood the message he was trying to send him.

  “So, you’re saying the end justifies the means? What if those means define what the end looks like?” Ward snatched up his helmet from the table and locked it onto his shoulders. “We have to win this the right way.”

  Revolution nodded. “Get in position, then.”

  Only fifteen minutes had passed. The Suns, the Minutemen, the other essential staff were now all in position.

  Revolution was letting Ward’s warning echo through his mind. He knew what he meant. In war it is often the case that the nature of the victory defines the nature of the peace. Paul was still angry at him for not helping in the rescue of Trenton after Ana and the debris from the Delaware had rained down on the city. Worse, the Legion had shown up and did what Ward thought the Suns should have done.

  But could Ward not see? That proved Revolution’s point, proved his actions were correct. Had they gone down there they would have been involved in another fight with the Legion. A fight they were not in shape for after the hurricane. They would have lost. And the Suns would have looked even worse. Maybe fell captive.

  A voice crackled over the general com, and he blinked, came back. “Sir, I’ve got a dozen bogies approaching at high speed. Altitude ten thousand feet.” It was Lantern, speaking to him over the general com so that everyone at the HQ could hear him.

  Finally. “They’re on their way,” Revolution replied to everyone.

  “It appears so, yes.”

  Revolution spoke into the general com again. “Everyone stay in position. We let them make the first move.”

  The Suns hoped they had every angle covered. Lantern stood atop the John Hancock Tower, the tallest building in the city, and took advantage of the unimpeded view to scan the Boston skyline. Sophia stood on the roof of the HQ. If anything came from the air, as they expected, human or drone—it would have to deal with her first.

  Rachel was waiting in the Hangar near Stealthhawk-2. She had a dozen MagCharges in a backpack, ready to go. If the Council Guard decided to bring in heavy artillery or set up a command center, the former CIA spy was ready to blow it to bits.

  Ward was camped out near the front door. All nonessential staff had been evacuated. But he was there to help protect those that were still needed.

  The Revolution monitored everything from the Situation Room’s command center. Drayger was now there with him, ready to be deployed wherever the main strike occurred. Revolution had expected an air attack, but he did not know what they would throw at them first. “Do we have an ID on the bogies yet?” he asked Lantern.

  “They have digital shielding, but they look like Viper 700s, sir.”

  “Jets?”

  “Yes, sir. Coming in fast.”

  “I can take them out before they ever reach the city,” Sophia growled.

  That was doubtful. Vipers were too fast even for Sophia, given that she would probably be in a dogfight as soon as she launched. There was a very good chance they’d already locked in on her energy signal. Lantern was doing the best he could to shield them all, but given his recent failures, Revolution had no choice but to assume he would be unable to.

  Revolution glanced over at Drayger. “Ben, get up on the roof with Sophia. Go to the opposite side so we have both flanks covered and wait for my word. Find Willard, he’ll show you how to get up there.”

  Drayger shot out of the room without a word.

  Revolution scanned all of Lantern’s readouts and saw nothing other than the twelve Vipers. “We wait for them to make the first move, but, Helius, be ready to vaporize anything they shoot at the city. They may not target us right away. They may go civilian to see what we’ll do.”

  “What will we do?” Ward asked pointedly. Revolution could hear the bitterness over not intervening in Trenton still in his voice.

  Revolution peered out at Lantern’s full-city, real-time image of Boston. “We’ll protect the city,” he said.

  “If you patch me into their coordinates I think I can neurolyze them from here,” Drayger said.

  “Neurolyze?” Sophia asked.

  “Cool term, huh?” Drayger sounded pleased with himself.

  No one said anything.

  “It is cool,” Rachel said finally.

  “Only if they attack first. They could be trying to draw us into taking the first shot,” Revolution said.

  “Wow, I hadn’t thought of that,” Drayger said.

  Revolution was trying not to get irritated by the banter. They were all nervous, he told himself. “Lantern, can you read their missile lock if they go hot?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  That was important. Lantern had the ability to remote-trigger explosive devices. He did it all the time with the Hollow, but he could also send a signal that would ride their missile lock right up into their missile bays and detonate the bombs before they ever launched. They’d used it before against Vipers.

  The Council had to know that, so it made little sense to attack this way. What were they really up to?

  “Do we know if they could conceal drones in the Vipers?”

  “Doubtful. Unless they are attached to the plane itself, there’s really nowhere to stow them,” said Sophia.

  “What about a Spore?” Lantern asked.

  There was a moment of silence. “Yeah, I think so,” she said warily.

  A spore had killed John Bailey. None of them needed to be reminded how dangerous they could be.

  “What’s a spore?” Drayger asked.

  Rookie. At the entrance, Ward was trying to stay calm. When he heard Drayger’s voice across the com, he decided to try to focus on his distrust of the young man. Ward was no psychologist, wasn’t even that good a judge of people, but Drayger just seemed overly ambitious to him. Reckless, even. What else didn’t he like about the guy? He tried to think of something, anything else. Anything to keep his mind off his fears.

  But it wasn’t working.

  He could not shake the memory of the massive Man-O-War floating down State Street, capable of destroying anything in its path. What if they sent an army of those, like Leslie said? What if they were packing that black lightning stuff the scientist at Trenton had? Matter displacer, didn’t he call it?

  Ward’s head began to throb. The old wound. There was no medical reason for it. What he told Rachel earlier was bullshit. His head ought to be fine now. It was psychological, he knew. But he couldn’t stop it. He could feel his whole body start to tremble. His fear was getting the best of him.

  The jets approached, twelve in formation. They zoomed over the John Hancock Tower, turbo engines cracking through the sky like thunder, on a trajectory for the HQ.

  Moments later, Sophia saw them. She readied her blasters.

  “Still no missile lock,” Lantern said over the com.

  “C’mon, c’mon,” Sophia breathed. She wanted to take
them out. She was tired of this threat. Time to get it over with. Time for all of them to face their demons and blow them to shit!

  The jets approached the HQ. She had them in her sights. The bracelets charged with power. It was going to come down to her. The jets were going to play chicken right up until the last minute.

  But she never could have guessed what was coming next. The jets screamed toward the HQ—

  And flew right over it.

  Sophia watched them disappear over the horizon.

  They waited.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  Nothing else came.

  “Sir,” Lantern said finally over their coms, “there’s nothing else on the scope. I think that was it. I think it was just a surveillance run.”

  Cheers roared up from the skeleton crew inside the HQ as the word spread.

  Ward sighed, his eyes shut tight, and fell against the wall at the entrance. The next thing he knew tearful workers were pounding his shoulders.

  He needed a drink.

  Tempers were high at COR.

  The gentlewoman from Georgia was the first to speak.

  And speak she did.

  “We are under house arrest here because he led the Suns of Liberty into a trap and they were all made to look like fools and terrorists in the eyes of the world! In fact, I have to question this man’s ability to lead our military at this point. He turned our ultimate weapon against us, he—”

  “I’ve told you, Fiona Fletcher is not a threat!” Leslie said more forcefully than she intended.

  “Do not abuse the power of your office, madam. The gentlewoman is speaking!” said the representative from Texas.

  Leslie blinked. “I apologize to the gentlewoman. I rescind my comments.”

  The gentlewoman from Georgia nodded to the representative from Texas and turned back toward Leslie, glaring at her. “And now that the gentleman from Texas mentions it, I question not only the Revolution’s leadership, but yours as well. You’ve led us to put our faith in a man whose name we don’t know, whose face we wouldn’t even recognize. We don’t know his history. At this point, with all these tragic missteps, I have to question if he is even on our side!”