Project Northwoods

by Jonathan Charles Bruce

  “You can’t be…”

  “That was not a request.”

  He fought the urge to curse, but slowed down to a stop as the ambulance continued darting to avoid Spark. The roar of another motorcycle’s engine filled his ears, but he didn’t turn. Catalina sped past him, laughing wildly before arcing back to a stop twenty yards away. She faced him, revved the engine, and ruffled her wind-swept hair. “Lucky you, colonel.” She flipped him the bird, gunning the machine again. The rear wheel spun, pivoting the cycle in place before she hopped on and sped off down the way. “You ain’t on the list!”

  Morant watched her go, her final words echoing behind her. It would only be a matter of time before they reached the outskirts of New York City proper. From there, finding them would be a lost cause.

  “The last Enforcer has fallen back!” Talia shouted. She clamped her hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Good shooting.”

  He thinly smiled and nodded. It was easier when I knew they weren’t live bullets, he thought as he glanced at the blue mark on the magazine. In the off chance an Enforcer lost control of the motorcycle and died in a twisted heap because of his marksmanship, he could rationalize at least some of the guilt away.

  “What about the fire guy?” James asked. Talia looked back at him, mostly stunned at the fact that he was still there.

  As if to answer, Spark darted downward behind them, spinning like a tornado. With a punishingly loud crack, the Bestowed hero shot toward them. Arthur brought the gun up to get him off their trail, but all he succeeded in doing was forcing the hero to dart around as he effortlessly dodged the bullets. Talia brought her gun up and squeezed the trigger, keeping up the barrage as Arthur’s magazine ran dry. With a click, her gun followed suit.

  Talia and Arthur quickly shut the doors of the ambulance as Spark gathered billowing columns of crackling, hungering flame. With a squeal of superheated air, the metal tore free and slammed into them as the concussion wave threw both bodies and debris back. They screamed as the molten air and metal seared them, scalding their hands before they got enough leverage to kick the doors away. The twisted parts fell out of the gaping hole in the ambulance and, with a sudden orange flare, Spark launched himself toward the vehicle, knocking the detritus out of the way. With another wave of heat, he was inside, clutching the sides. He was handsome and blond, his skintight black suit marred only by a circular oval with a smiling fireball in the middle. His brown eyes flashed among the villains, waves of heat radiating from his form.

  “Alright,” he growled maliciously. “Where’s the daft bitch who killed my brother?”

  “Is that rhetorical?” James asked. Talia and Arthur glanced at him, not sure if he was trying to antagonize the hero or if it was just a tragic coincidence.

  Spark darted and grabbed James by the neck. Almost immediately, the collar of his shirt withered under the intense heat radiating off the hero. James wailed in pain as his skin grew a deep red underneath Spark’s grip.

  “James!” Talia shouted, moving toward the hero. She had barely taken her second step when she was met with a wall of heat, the force of it knocking her back.

  “Now, this idiot will die unless you tell me where Catalina is.” James suddenly wailed in a higher register, his neck blistering underneath Spark’s palm.

  Allison apparently just realized there was an interloper and turned around. “What the…” she started, bringing up a pistol. Spark flicked his free hand and Allison dropped the gun. “Damn it!”

  Arthur turned to her the moment it happened. “Allison, get rid of the gun!” He dove over the seat and grabbed for the weapon, squealing at the heat as he picked it off the floor. The gunpowder of the bullets started to ignite by the time he was able to throw it out the window, the loud and rapid pops forcing an already swerving Mat to bolt hard to the left.

  “Love that trick,” snickered Spark. “Now, then… Catalina?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

  Answering him, a bullet tore through the shoulder keeping James pinned in his grip. He grunted as blood splattered Talia and the newly-released James. Spark spun around and moved toward the ragged hole. The motorcycle sped up, darting out of the way when he launched a fireball at it.

  “Take that, bitch!” he shouted as Arthur leapt from the front seat, a magazine of ammunition in his hand, and jammed it into the hero’s belt. Spark turned at the sensation, but not before Arthur hurled himself against the larger man, knocking him out of the ambulance and tumbling to the street below.

  With a roar, an aura of flame pulsed around the now-standing hero. The heat was too much for the ammunition tucked into his utility belt, and it exploded, sending him crashing to the pavement.

  “Really hope those were live rounds,” Arthur said.

  Catalina heard Spark scream above the motorcycle’s whine, and she turned as the familiar orange gave way to an angry whorl of violet plasma. Adrenaline, heartbreak, and pain had given way to another level of his Bestowed biology. Catalina and the ambulance were his first targets. The cars nearest to Spark exploded, their gasoline tanks rupturing with the sudden change of pressure and heat.

  She brought the motorcycle to a complete, squealing halt, unslung her rifle, and aimed carefully down the scope, straight at Spark’s heart. He seemed distracted by his new gift, his body coping with it, learning to adapt to it. She watched as Spark’s suit began to melt and bubble, unable to keep together under the new extremes of his Bestowed ability.

  She pulled the trigger and the gun roared.

  Nothing happened.

  Again.

  All she did was get his attention.

  The bullets are melting. She revved the engine and spun around, peeling out as she heard the shockwave of his takeoff. Catalina caught up with the ambulance and glanced to her side mirror as the hero approached faster than she thought possible. He wasn’t lobbing anything at his target; instead he got in low, near the ground, trailing its every move.

  She had to think of a plan, otherwise they were all dead. Her eyes flitted over the buildings and down the road. A sign for the freeway caught her eye. Further up the way, the on-ramp lowered to the highway carved below the rest of the landscape. Revving the engine, she pulled further ahead and saw there was another overpass down the way. Catalina reached up for her earpiece. “Mat, take the northbound exit!” she shouted as she leaned down, pushing the motorcycle to go faster.

  “What about the very enraged guy following us?” he asked, swerving to the side, only to have the hero follow suit.

  “It’s fine,” she said dismissively. She hit the corner hard, leaning into the turn and leaving the ambulance to fend for itself. She made her way above the highway, glancing back to watch her companions just turning down the ramp. She’d need more time, and that meant driving to the next overpass.

  Fuck.

  The buildings whipped by her until she slowed to make the turn. She wheeled the bike in a tight turn, slamming her foot on the ground as she watched Spark and the ambulance. The hero swept above and dove on top of the vehicle… probably trying to cook everyone inside. Catalina pulled her only explosive grenade from her belt and lobbed it in at the concrete barrier erected to prevent people from doing what she had planned. The bomb exploded, sending shrapnel into the air. She revved the engine as the smoke cleared.

  There’s a good chance this is going to be the greatest thing ever, she thought. She revved the bike. Or I’m going to die horribly.

  “I hope that’s you boss, ‘cause we’re cooking in here!” Mat shrieked on the headset.

  She gunned the engine, squealing the tires as she lifted her foot from the ground. The motorcycle shot forward and went through the clearing she made, going airborne before rapidly losing altitude. She let go as the ambulance moved toward her, the motorcycle twisting as her weight fell away.

  She fell, hard, on the ambulance, the force of the impact ripping her shoulder out of its socket. Her other hand shot out and managed to snag a handle on the top of the too-hot vehi
cle in a death grip. The motorcycle fell on the ambulance before crashing into Spark, blasting him off his perch. The man and machine toppled, end-over-end, hitting the pavement as the ambulance sped onward. With a final violet flash, the hero’s heat cooked the motorcycle’s gas tank, and it exploded.

  The orange burst of flame swallowed the purple flare whole, shards of shrapnel ripping into the hero’s heart.

  James gave a whoop of triumph as the explosion evaporated into the night. He was sweating… they were all sweating after the flying douchebag grabbed the ambulance and started frying it, but they were free, now. No more Enforcers, no more prison… freedom! He turned to Arthur and Talia, who were cheering as they held each other. “Can I get in on that?”

  Releasing his grip on Talia, Arthur clamped onto him. He was off in a moment, pointing out the hole. “Did you see that shit? One in a million!” His voice was hoarse with yelling.

  James smiled. “She totally murdered that dude with a motorcycle.”

  The cheerful nature of the escape vehicle immediately died down. Lips were still curved upwards, but Talia pushed herself by the two of them and quietly moved to the front. James hadn’t meant to bring everyone down. Poor choice of word, ‘murder’.

  Talia turned to Arthur, brushing her hair back from her face. “Mat says that Catalina is on the roof.”

  James looked up to the ceiling, noticing for the first time the hatch built into it. Before Arthur could struggle to get it open, James stood up on one of the small benches charitably left inside when the vehicle had been gutted for munitions purposes. James popped the latch, gripped the side, and leapt.

  It was an easy up-and-over maneuver, not nearly as impressive as he could be, but nevertheless, he was on top of the ambulance, wind whipping by his ears and drowning out everything else. Catalina was practically in front of him and barely seemed to register his presence.

  He offered a hand to her. “Take my hand!” he shouted, gesturing with it. Eventually, she clasped it and he pulled her gently up before lowering her into the hatch. He was about to clamber in when a spotlight erupted on the ambulance. He looked up into the blinding light, frightened but at the same time allured by the floating shape. Something pulled at his hand balanced by the hatch, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  “Attention, villains.” His heart pounded as he fully understood what floated above the mysterious spotlight. “The occupants of your vehicle have been designated rogue by the High Consul. Failure to yield has granted authorization of lethal force.”

  With a flash, unseen engines kicked on, making the search drone blast off behind them, sweep in low, then rapidly gain on their vehicle. The thing was a squat oval, a little wider than their own transport, smooth with the exception of a black screen which ran the width of its front. It gave the impression that it was watching them from behind a pair of shades. Two bulges on either side of the flying machine housed the turbine engines, propelling it through the skies.

  James now realized the others were pulling on his hand, begging him to come back inside. He obliged, sinking into a shouting match. The only silent one was Catalina, who was busy nursing her shoulder. Ignoring the others, she wobbled to her feet before slamming her arm into the wall and pushing the bone back into its socket. With a grunt, her eyes rolled back as she collapsed to the floor in a daze.

  “Drive-drive-drive-drive-drive!” Allison was chanting above everyone else.

  “There is no inherent quantity of driving I can increase!” Mat snapped at everyone with an open mouth.

  The search drone was now close enough for them to see the gun pods flanking the search light on its underbelly. With a loud click, they began to spin, gaining speed.

  “Get down!” James shouted.

  The guns flared, trailing after the ambulance as Mat attempted to outmaneuver the rain of bullets. The sounds of metal being bitten into and rebounded off of were sporadic, but enough to make everyone flinch. The assault finally petered out after Mat had managed to swerve through most of the metal hail. “Everyone okay?” he asked.

  James looked up, felt his chest, and heaved a sigh of relief. “Yes, I’m fine!”

  “Maty!” Allison shouted.

  “It’s fine!” The ambulance swerved. “Don’t touch it!”

  “How far is it to…” Arthur trailed off. “Wherever it is we’re going?”

  “Just a few miles!” Mat shouted, punctuating it with a scream of pain. “I said don’t touch it!”

  “We won’t last that long!” Talia said as she banged into the wall due to Mat’s erratic driving.

  The drone fell back a bit as something loud clicked into place. With a hiss, a rocket sped toward the ambulance. Mat saw it in the side mirror and changed course. James felt a quiver of even greater fear than he was experiencing before when the missile self-corrected and matched Mat’s new course.

  With a sudden twist of the wheel, the ambulance swerved in time to avoid the rocket detonating into the pavement meters from where they were. The blast knocked the passengers about as the vehicle groaned in protest. The flying machine fired another rocket.

  “I think it’s time to take that thing out!” Allison shouted. She squeezed her way out of the front to unlock a cabinet behind the passenger side, revealing a rocket-propelled grenade launcher, a designation James could make thanks to years of studying war footage.

  “It won’t do any good!” James yelled with a shake of his head. The ambulance jerked them again to the side, sparing them a screaming death in favor of a few contusions now. “That armor will resist bullets, rockets…”

  “What if we age the armor?” Arthur asked, looking at Talia. She met his gaze briefly, only to return it to another explosive payload rocketing their way.

  James looked between them. “Age? What…”

  Talia cut James off. “It won’t be pretty, but it’s possible.” She looked at her assistant. “Can you get me on top of that search drone?”

  Still a little confused, James gave what he hoped was a self-assured smile. “I can get you up there, no problem.” James was trying to sound cocky, but was fairly sure his fear was showing through. The ambulance jerked again, but James and Talia had grown used to the evasive maneuvers and continued to stand. She popped up the ceiling hatch and clambered up and out before James simply leapt out after her.

  The wind was whipping through his hair again, and James froze when he landed on the roof. The drone was nearing now, the closing distance temporarily confusing its targeting system. Talia moved around to James’s back and grabbed onto his shoulders.

  “Whenever you’re ready, Flea.” The sound of the name thrilled him, almost to the point where the now spinning gun-pods had become less an issue and more a distraction. “Flea!”

  Snapped back to reality, he knelt down and felt her grab him tighter before he leapt. Jumping was what he did best, and innumerable calculations had already sped through his brain before he had even left the ambulance. It wasn’t luck so much as skill that allowed him to land squarely on the automated weapon, immediately kneeling to let Talia down. She set to work, crouching, hands on the metal surface as the gun pods opened up, raining bullets on the streets below.

  “This shouldn’t be hard!” she shouted, apparently trying to sound just as sure of herself as he did earlier. “I’m just aging the armor… nothing specific!”

  It took what felt like hours before something happened. Like a ripple, the metal buckled and groaned, immediately turning from silver-white to dull grey as paint flecked off into the night. Talia began to grunt with effort as rivets began to warp and deform. Rust spread throughout the surface, flecking off at the high speed wind.

  Below, Allison popped out of the roof hatch, bringing up the rocket-propelled grenade launcher. The vehicle was still swerving to avoid the deadly hail, but she nevertheless shouldered it and aimed it squarely at them.

  “Time to go, Talia!” he shouted, picking her up. She staggered upwards before turning and latching o
nto his back. “We need them to slow down!”

  She pawed at her earpiece. “Mat, we’re done!”

  The ambulance braked, and James leapt from the search drone as Allison fired the rocket. The two aerial bodies passed each other in mid-flight, James feeling the scalding heat of the rocket as he fell past it. He slammed into the ambulance’s roof as Allison darted below. Talia released him as he turned to watch the rocket slam into the rusted armor, blowing clear through it, then detonate inside the machine.

  The thing went into an explosive tailspin, vomiting fire and chunks of metal as it went. It lost altitude as the ambulance sped up to escape. The search drone hit the ground, spinning end over end, exploding in a series of violent bursts as the fuel lines erupted. The flames then turned on the remaining rockets and ammunition stores. With a final, dulled whump, the wreckage went up in a mushrooming fireball before fading into a small blaze rapidly growing smaller.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  BRUSH FIRE

  June 28th, 2011

  Nearing Midnight

  SERGEANT LEAMON LED HER UNIT of nine subordinates through the forests surrounding the Fort. The woods were surprisingly quiet considering the bombastic escape the Italian Mob had engineered earlier. Any animals would be still in shelter from the earlier storm or scared off by the sound of humans marching along. She held point as they made their way over the rough terrain, hoping to catch up with the villains on foot. There would be a fair number of Enforcers patrolling the edge of the forest to block their avenue of escape, and it was up to her and her force to keep the villains moving toward the waiting guards.

  No one spoke for a while, more concerned with the simple task of following the relatively obvious trail that had been left behind for them. The escaping villains were wounded, disoriented, and more intent on freedom than covering their movements, making tracking them through the wilderness simple. The only problem would be that, by now, some of them would have a tenuous grip of their abilities back, but they would cross that bridge when they came upon it.