Super Mega 3 (Heroes & Harems)

by Nolan Fury

  “If you haven’t figured it out by now, this is a covert government black site. It doesn’t exist. And right now, neither do you. You don’t have any rights. We can keep you locked away in one of these cells forever. Your friends and family will wonder what happened to you. You’ll probably end up on a missing persons report somewhere. You’ll grow old here as an enemy combatant. A nonperson. Or, you could answer my questions and help us out.”

  “Help you out?” I said, incredulous.

  Agent Isaacson smiled. “I’d like to show you something.”

  He pulled out his cell phone and loaded a video. He faced the display toward me and let me watch the security camera footage. It was grainy, dim footage of an alleyway. It took me a second to recognize the location. As the video proceeded a brilliant flash whited out the screen for an instant, then Surge, Chrome, and I appeared in the alleyway. It was footage from when we had traveled back to Earth.

  I frowned.

  “I’m with the DSA. Department of Supernatural Affairs.”

  “I’ve never heard of that before.”

  “Of course you haven’t. We don’t exist. We are a special covert agency that co-ops the resources of the FBI, CIA, NSA, and Department of Homeland Security. We are under the direct supervision of the President and the DoD.”

  “Sounds exciting,” I said, flatly.

  “What’s exciting is how you materialized out of thin air. Do you want to explain that to me?”

  “There must be some kind of glitch in your footage.”

  “We know there is another dimension. We’ve been monitoring electromagnetic fluctuations and have been tracking instances of inter dimensional travel.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “As you can imagine, a being from another dimension that possess superhuman powers poses a threat to national security.”

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  “You can stop pretending.” Agent Isaacson unholstered his sidearm. He aimed the pistol at my chest and squeeze the trigger. Muzzle flash flickered and smoke wafted from the barrel. For a brief moment, I worried that my powers would be even further diminished within this cell. I winced in anticipation of the bullet hits.

  25

  The copper rounds slammed into my chest and bounced away. Some clattered against the floor while others ricocheted onto the table. It didn’t feel great, and it left purple welts on my chest like getting hit with a paintball. I had plenty of dark purple circles on my chest from my earlier encounter with a pistol.

  I looked down as wisps of smoke wafted from the holes in my shirt. I pulled the shirt away from my chest and poked my finger through one of the holes. “Are you going to buy me a new shirt?”

  “I think you’ll agree that most people would be dead after taking three slugs to the chest from a 9mm. You want to cut the nonsense and tell me why you’re not dead?”

  I figured the cat was out of the bag. I explained to him my story about travel to the Ultraverse and how I had acquired my ability.

  “As you can imagine, beings with supernatural abilities pose a security risk. We just want to get a better idea of what we’re dealing with. We’re going to need to keep you for observation for a few days. Run some basic tests. Collect data.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve got other business to take care of. There are other supers running around that pose a real threat, like Nitro-X. He kidnapped my best friend’s sister. He can’t be allowed to achieve full power. He’ll bring chaos to the planet.”

  Isaacson flashed a smug grin. “Why don’t you let us worry about what is and isn’t a national security risk.”

  I clenched my jaw and tried to break my cuffs again. But I couldn’t. “You’re making a big mistake.”

  “It’s going to go a lot easier for you if you cooperate. Comply, and we will think about dropping the federal charges that are pending against you. Why don’t you take a minute to think about it?”

  Isaacson pushed away from the desk. The chair squealed against the floor. He moved to the exit, placed his hand on the biometric scanner, and the door slid open.

  There wasn’t anything to think about. I needed to get the hell out of this place. I stood up and kicked the two-way mirror as hard as I could. It just warbled, but it didn’t break.

  I paced around the room for a few minutes.

  Isaacson returned to the interrogation room after a while. “Are you done with your little temper tantrum?”

  “You’re not listening to me. Lives are at stake.”

  “So, you think we should let you go so you can fight a super villain named Nitro-X?” he chuckled.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Okay. How about this? You agree to cooperate, and we’ll look into Nitro-X. You give us all the information you have, and I’ll see what I can do to help your friend’s sister.”

  I reluctantly agreed. It was the best deal I was going to get from Isaacson. They moved me from the interrogation room to a research lab with an observation cell—it was a small living area with clear walls made of transparent notranium at the center of a larger research facility.

  There was a bed, a television, a desk with a computer, and a bathroom. Researchers could watch me like some type of lab rat 24 hours a day. They hooked up wireless electrodes to my chest so they could monitor my heartbeat, oxygen saturation, blood pressure, sleep rhythms, etc.

  “As you’ve learned by now, these walls are unbreakable,” Isaacson said. “The lab is electromagnetically shielded. And the only way in or out is through the main entrance, with biometric authentication. The doors are made of a thermally protected reinforced composite alloy. Attempting to escape would be futile. I trust that you will behave for the scientists?”

  I nodded with a frown permanently etched on my face.

  “And, if you get out of line, we have this,” Isaacson said. He held up a super taser. “I’m sure you didn’t find the effects pleasant. It’s a prototype that we developed. A neural disruptor. It shuts down brain activity momentarily and causes the loss of all motor control. We are working on a wireless version that will send disruptive pulse waves.”

  Isaacson handed the pistol to one of the scientists. She was a cute blonde, about 5’4” with short wavy hair and glasses. She took the gun awkwardly, like she’d never held a pistol before.

  My hands were still cuffed behind my back. “You mind taking these things off?”

  I’ll leave that up to the discretion of the researchers, but once you’re secured within the observation chamber, I don’t have a problem with it.”

  “I’m fine with it, once he’s secured,” the blonde said.

  Isaacson escorted me into the chamber. They sealed the door behind me and I pushed my hands through the transfer slot in the door. It was large enough for a food tray. Isaacson unlatched the cuffs, and I pulled my wrists free. They had worn grooves in my skin.

  I rubbed my wrists.

  “I trust you will play nice,” Isaacson said.

  I gave him a subtle nod.

  “Well, he’s all yours,” Isaacson said. He left the lab.

  The blonde stepped to the door and introduced herself. “I’m Doctor Elizabeth Russell. Over the next few days—”

  “Few days?” I said with wide eyes. “I need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  “Your departure time is strictly up to Special Agent Isaacson. But, the sooner that we can move through the testing process, the sooner you can likely go back to your normal life.” She couldn’t look at me when she said those words.

  I got the distinct feeling that they didn’t have any intention of ever letting me go, and she knew that.

  “As I was saying, we will need to do a series of tests that are relatively harmless.”

  “Relatively?”

  “We’ll draw blood, test your mental and physical aptitude— strength, resilience, immunity.”

  “Immunity?”

  She forced a smile
. “It’s nothing to worry about. We want to see how you respond to a series of common pathogens.”

  “I don’t like the word pathogens.”

  “These will be attenuated viruses. Think of it like getting a flu shot. We’ll monitor how fast your body identifies and responds to the foreign organism.”

  “You’re not instilling confidence.”

  She smiled again. “Trust me, I’ll take good care of you.” She introduced her associates. “This is Doctor Rodriguez, Doctor Gibson, and Doctor West.”

  Rodriguez was tall and skinny with curly hair and tortoiseshell glasses. Gibson was shorter with a round face, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Doctor West looked like a male fashion model. Had a square jaw, ice-blue eyes, and perfectly coiffed brown hair. He looked like a douchebag.

  “You are aware that I’m here against my will?” I said.

  “We’re just researchers,” West said. “Why you are here is beyond the scope of our objective.”

  “What exactly is your objective?”

  “To determine how much of a threat supers are to our society, and what their weaknesses may be.”

  I grimaced. I didn’t like being a guinea pig. I could only imagine the tests they had in store for me.

  26

  The testing started with a psychological assessment. I sat at the computer terminal and answered true/false questions like:

  I sometimes like to hurt myself.

  I sometimes lie.

  I like to hurt small animals.

  I sometimes feel like smashing things.

  It was basically testing to see if I was a psychopath. I was never a fan of multiple-choice type tests. It didn’t seem like a very good evaluation to me. Some of the questions were ambiguous. Of course I felt like smashing things at times. But that didn’t mean I had an anger management problem. It didn’t mean I always smashed things when I felt like it. And there was no way to expand upon those answers. It was a test that was first designed in 1942. Please explain to me how it could have any practical relevance in the modern world?

  The test took a little over an hour to complete, and I was convinced that no matter how I answered the test questions I would be seen as a threat to society. But it did give me access to a computer terminal.

  It was connected to the lab’s server. There was no outside connection, but I didn’t need one. I was being monitored 24 hours a day, but perhaps there would be an opportunity for me to poke around within the system. Maybe I could use that to my advantage? Every lock in the facility was electronic. Perhaps I could hack my way out of the compound?

  Dr. Russell prepared several syringes, which I assumed would be used to test my resistance to various pathogens. It was clear they were looking for weaknesses, trying to find a way to defeat supers. It was an emerging threat, and they had no contingency plan to deal with it. If more and more supers came to earth, they could wreak havoc and dominate the globe. Destabilize the economy. Establish a tyrannical dictatorship. Anything was possible.

  After the personality profile, the researchers wanted to do some strength assessments. Dr. Russell asked me to curl a 50 pound dumbbell.

  “What’s the heaviest weight you’ve got?”

  “200 pounds,” Doctor Russell said.

  “Why don’t we just start there?”

  Her eyes widened. “Um, okay.”

  It took all three of the men to lift the dumbbell onto a cart and transfer it into my observation area.

  I lifted the heavy dumbbell from the cart and did 10 reps, easily.

  They looked at me with gobsmacked faces.

  I took the opportunity to hurl the dumbbell at Doctor West. The snooty little prick deserved it. The dumbbell crashed into his chest, slamming him against the wall. I roundhoused Rodriguez, sending him crashing to the ground, then I grabbed Doctor Russell and wrapped my arm around her neck in a choke hold.

  Doctor Gibson stood frozen in a state of shock and panic.

  I backed to the door. “Open it!”

  Doctor Russell placed her hand on the biometric scanner and the lock released. I pulled her through the door and kicked it shut behind me, sealing in the other doctors.

  “Just calm down,” Doctor Russell said. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “I am calm.”

  ”You’ll never get past security.”

  “Yes I will.”

  I grabbed one of the syringes from a tray as we moved through the lab. With my thumb, I flicked off the cap to the needle and placed the syringe at her throat.

  Doctor Russell’s eyes went wide with fear.

  “What’s in this?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Just an attenuated virus.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “I swear. It’s harmless.”

  I pressed my thumb against the plunger and poked the tip of the needle against her flesh—just enough so the tip indented the skin, but didn’t puncture the surface. “So, you won’t mind if I inject you”

  In a panic breath she yelled, “Don’t!”

  “What is it?”

  “ZX-23. It’s an organophosphate. A nerve agent. It can be aerosolized and is effective through ingestion, absorption, or inhalation.”

  “What happens if I inject you with this?”

  “Nausea, vomiting, muscle paralysis, neurotoxicity, then death.” Doctor Russell swallowed hard.

  “Isn’t there a ban on chemical weapons?”

  Doctor Russell nodded.

  “But you thought it would be ethical to test on me?”

  “I don’t make the rules. I just do what they tell me. The presence of supers has the government scared shitless.”

  “Better to find out if this stuff works in a lab than in a real combat situation?” I said, irritated.

  Doctor Russell nodded.

  “Do what I say, and I promise, you’ll get out of this alive. If you don’t, you know what is in store for you.” I hated being an evil bastard, but it was necessary. If push came to shove, I didn’t know what I’d do, but I needed to put on a good front. She needed to believe I was fully capable of injecting her. And so did everyone else. This wasn’t going to help my legal situation, but sometimes you got to do what you got to do.

  27

  We moved to the door, and Doctor Russell placed her hand on the biometric scanner pad. The door unlocked and slid open. We pushed into the hallway.

  The security cameras on the ceiling took note. It didn’t take long until two agents blocked our path in the hallway with guns drawn.

  “Back off, or she dies!” I shouted.

  The agents hesitated a moment, then exchanged a wary glance.

  My grip tightened around the syringe, my thumb ready to depress the plunger. “I mean it. There’s nasty stuff in this syringe.”

  They knew what kind of pathogens and chemical weapons were contained within the lab and they didn’t want any part of it. They backed away cautiously, but kept their weapons aimed at me.

  I continued to push Doctor Russell down the hall.

  Agents flanked me from behind.

  “Keep pushing your luck,” I shouted.

  It was a delicate situation. The agents knew that I couldn’t kill Doctor Russell—I’d lose my leverage. I needed her to get out of the building.

  The agents behind me finally eased back.

  I dragged Doctor Russell into the stairwell and we spiraled up the steps. I pulled her to the main exit. With her hand on the biometric scanner, the heavy blast door unlatched and slid open. We stepped into the muggy air of the underground parking garage.

  “Do you have a car?”

  She nodded, terrified. She pointed to the only silver sedan in the parking garage.

  I pushed her toward the car, keeping the syringe at her neck. “Open it!”

  Doctor Russell fumbled for her keys and clicked the remote. The alarm chirped, and the tail lights flickered.

  I forced her into the driver’s seat and quickly jumped into the backseat and put the syringe bac
k at her throat. It only took a fraction of a second, and she was so dazed and terrified she didn’t have a chance to escape.

  “Drive!”

  She started the car, and the engine roared to life. She put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking space.

  “Go! Go!”

  She threw the car into drive, and her foot mashed the gas pedal. Tires squealed, echoing through the parking garage. We flew past several agents as they spilled out of the bunker their weapons drawn.

  We turned onto the main drive and headed toward the gate. The armed guard at the checkpoint didn’t know what the hell was going on. He just saw a car barreling toward the exit.

  Doctor Russell pulled her foot from the accelerator for an instant until I shouted at her, “Don’t stop!”

  The guard’s eyes went wide as he realized the car wasn’t slowing down. He jumped out of the way as we blew through the security checkpoint, tearing through the chain-link fence. It cracked the grill of the car and did a number on the paint job, leaving large scratches on the hood and quarter panels.

  Tires screeched as Doctor Russell turned onto the blacktop highway. I held onto the seat-back to keep myself from flying across the car from inertia.

  Doctor Russell gripped the wheel, white knuckled. Her eyes wide.

  “Do you have a gun?”

  Doctor Russell hesitated for a moment. “In the glove box.”

  I leaned over the seat, opened the box, and pulled out a 9 mm. I press-checked the weapon. There was a round in the chamber. Now I had a gun and some nasty nerve agent.

  “Where do you want me to go?” she stammered.

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought this far ahead.”

  “I don’t think you thought this through it all.”

  “Like I was just supposed to sit there and let you inject me with this stuff. That’s barbaric.”

  “We don’t know if it will have any affect on you.”

  I grumbled at her.

  My train of thought was interrupted by the patter of rotor blades overhead. I peered out the window and tried to get an angle on the sky above. A black helicopter hovered over the vehicle.