Blackjack Dead or Alive (The Blackjack Series Book 3)

by Ben Bequer

  "So you say," Atmosphero said.

  "That's right," she shot back, and I think it was at that moment that I most realized how important - how influential - she was. Some might have accused her of suffering from Stockholm syndrome after our getaway, falling for the villain or what not. But few would stand up to her, not even Epic, once she got a head of steam going. In particular, I noticed a change in demeanor from her Revolution team members, Damage and Dominus.

  "Just forget all that, okay? We don't have time to do a play by play," I shot in, before the meeting went farther off the hinges than I wanted. "Brutal is going to kill Senator Ashbourne and he's going to do it in..." I paused, looking at Apogee.

  "Today," she said. "He's at his home in Maryland, along with dozens of other innocents."

  "Four hours," I said, punctuating how little time we had. If we flew in the Cicada, it would still take several hours to traverse the Atlantic and reach the east coast of the United States. Factoring in wind conditions, we'd probably have to burn out her engines to get there on time. "We don't have time for debate or discussion," I went on. "We need to get ourselves out there now."

  "Why do you care about the Senator," Atmosphero said. "You murdered his only son, Blackjack and there's no redemption coming for you."

  "Dude, fuck you," I said. "I don't have time for your-"

  "Wait a second," Epic interrupted. "Why suddenly so much concern for the Senator?"

  The council was silent; all eyes were on me, even Apogee's.

  "I'll admit - I don't really care about him. It's not about him at all. It's about Brutal, that guy is the biggest threat."

  Superdynamic stepped in, "He’s not the only one," he said sweeping his hands up to the board.

  "Yeah, like me," I said. "I was number one on your list, right? Now you have me here, neutralized."

  "Or neutered," Atmosphero said to a fellow sitting behind him.

  "Say that shit again, fucker," I said, lowering my jaw and glaring at the man. “Or do you forget what happened the last time you got wise with me, huh?” I looked around and saw Superdynamic’s head lowered in disgust. I was fucking it up. “Sorry,” I said. “Shit, I’m working on it, okay? But seriously, SuperDee, I have good reason to think he’s going to hit the Senator today. Besides, you can't be serious about going after Lady Jayne next."

  He laughed, "I don't operate as a dictator, Blackjack. We vote on things here."

  "And you voted her next? You’re fucking kidding me?"

  "Maybe you can check your language at the door, son," Coach said, and I suddenly felt vulnerable. She could neutralize me in a second. So could Dominus, whose mind-control powers were even greater than hers. So could Paladin, so could half the council. Then they could put me away and continue the meeting uninterrupted. But my blood was pumping, and these clowns were playing their tricks again, weighing the risk/reward ratio on their threat scale and moving with the plodding care of a sleeping water buffalo. I had to do something or Brutal was going to waste the Senator, and who knew how many more.

  "Do you know why you were first on the list, Blackjack?" Superdynamic said, switching the screens above to display my info and highlight reel. "It's because of how volatile you are." I noticed he didn't go on about my energy emission problem - maybe it was something he hadn't shared with the others. "That's a big deal here, how much of an immediate and viable threat you are, and when we sat down to do this the last time, guess whose name floated to the top?"

  I lowered my head, realizing I had lost before the fight had even begun. I was surrounded by enemies. The council was made up of too many people I had pissed off or injured in the past. They were beyond listening to my mad rantings and calling it reason.

  "And look at how he's behaving now," Atmosphero said. "He's an endorphin junkie or something."

  FTL raised his hand, allowing the clamor to die down before he spoke. His voice was heavily modulated, with an odd accent that I couldn't place. "I have encountered Blackjack on two separate occasions. Once he was an opponent, a true villain. The other he saved the lives of several members of this body - me included. I don't know his motivations, but I do recommend we listen to him - at the very least."

  "Right," I said, emboldened by the surprise assist. Having Apogee with me meant the world, but I had to convince the council. "Thank you, very much. You don't have to believe me. Hell, you don't even have to do anything about it. Just give me a plane and I'll take care of it."

  But I saw Superdynamic shaking his head next to me.

  "That's a terrible idea, Blackjack," Epic said. "Brutal is an energy leech of unprecedented levels. I wouldn't recommend you be there in your present condition," he said, pausing long enough for me to understand that he knew of my emission issue.

  "I can't believe we're even listening to this clown," Atmosphero said, pounding his fist against the desk. "This guy's is as reformed as Stalin on a Sunday afternoon. Are we totally washing the slate clean on every murder on his rap sheet? And listen, buddy, sending you to save the Senator - whose son you murdered - is the new World's Record for worst ideas in history."

  He paused, looking around, enjoying the sound of his own voice.

  "Maybe you forgot, but I was there. I saw my friend fall to his death. I don't know what the hell you did to the Apogee we all love and respect, but Pulsewave was important to her as well."

  "I forgave him, Atmosphero."

  "Well, I didn't! Why the hell are we still talking about this? Cage the animal, let's end this circus and get on with real business."

  "I'd like to say something," Coach said, clearing her throat. It was enough to quiet the murmurs that followed Atmosphero’s rabble rousing. "Blackjack, son, I'm not sure what to make of you. I'm thankful to you for what you did in D.C., which, as FTL has already mentioned, included saving my life, and that of a few others here."

  I looked around as she spoke, and saw a couple of them sitting further back, including two heroes I had fought before, Captain Miraculous and Bad Karma, but my attention fell back on Coach, and in particular someone sitting right behind her. It was Pummel, the tough guy hero I had beaten back in Romania while trying to escape. He glowered at me, his wounds still not fully healed. The guy wanted a shot at me. I scanned a few others and saw several shared his sentiments and intentions. If Superdynamic, Apogee and Epic were to leave - maybe Coach and FTL as well - this place would quickly turn into a charnel house.

  "It's not like we can't see a change in you. I think it's clear to everyone here, and believe me, to see you this enthusiastic about something that doesn't involve hurting someone is a big deal. But you've done what you've done, you understand? Atmosphero is right; we can't wipe your slate clean. That's not how life works."

  "Fine," I said. "But at least send someone to stop him. I don't know who'd be best suited..." I racked my brain, wondering who would be the most powerful guy that could actually beat Brutal, but no one in the room seemed up to the task. Maybe Paladin? No, his power involved energy emission – also the wrong type of guy to send against an energy leech. You didn't send a rechargeable battery to fight the Energizer bunny.

  Epic stood.

  "Give what information you have to the technicians outside and we'll take a look," he said. "Time is short, so I vote we table the issue at hand and deliberate on the matter of Brutal."

  Just then the display of the top ten villains circled around on the light board and I saw they had him fourth behind Lady Jayne, Primal and a new girl I had never heard of called Death Blossom. Lady Jayne wasn't active without Retcon, who was dead. Primal was also active, and even he made more sense to pursue that Lady Jayne, and the new person wasn't in the news or I would know more about her. It wasn't a listing of viable, immediate threats - but of raw power levels.

  And to think they had put me first on the list.

  Baron Blitzkrieg was ninth. Mister Murder was seventh, and that guy was non-stop in South America. It was a hit list - they were removing threats by order of power, re
gardless of what was happening in the world. I turned around to walk, startling Superdynamic and Apogee standing behind me.

  "Dale..." Superdynamic said grasping at me, but I tore past him. "Goddammit, I know that look. Apogee...?"

  "I got it," she said and I felt her follow me out, the two guards in tow. I stormed on to an elevator, wanting to punch the panel until it arrived. A few others milled about, waiting for the elevator as well. My foul demeanor and body posture was enough to scatter them.

  "Dale," Apogee said.

  "I know," I snapped. "You got it."

  I walked away from her, moving to a vast window that overlooked the Mali desert plain. We were as high on the tower as we could go, high enough that the world seemed to curve away. Out there, the land went on for hundreds of miles in every direction, silent and placid as if nothing mattered. It only made me angrier.

  "Dammit, listen to me," she said grabbing my arm. "Are you going to stop and listen a second?"

  "I'm right and you know it," I said.

  She exerted some strength, pulling me around to face her, "I know. I believe you, Dale. I'm here, right?"

  I nodded.

  "The council is going to deliberate and-"

  "And decide to send some fast flier guy to investigate, to protect the Senator-"

  "And it'll be fine," she said. "We've got this."

  She seemed to cradle me with her eyes, trying to ease my rage - to calm that burning anger that always seemed to well up.

  "What you don't know," she said, "What no one knows, is that the Senator has a bodyguard that can handle anything. One of the old timers."

  I raised my head and banged it against the glass behind me, "There's no one that..."

  She took my chin and lowered my face. "That's right; use your big head for something useful."

  "Global?"

  Apogee smiled.

  Global was one of the Original Seven, some though the most powerful after Valiant, but his powers stemmed from solar emission - creation and control of plasma on a planetary scale much like Nostromo and Apostle.

  They had the biggest battery on the planet protecting the Senator.

  Her smile faded as she saw me going through the process, and somewhere in her head, she came to the same realization.

  "Oh, Jesus," she said.

  I looked past her, almost tempted to go back into the council, but to do that was to threaten the short tempers of a few butt-hurt heroes.

  "They won't listen," Apogee said, reading my intent. "If it was Jeff or Ricky alone-"

  "I know. Come on," I said, and tore off to the elevator, which was opening. "Everyone out! We have an emergency," I shouted, clearing the way for Apogee and I. We entered the elevator alone and I studied the floors.

  "Where to," she said, knowing I wasn't keyed into the system.

  "First, I need to pick up a few things,” I said.

  She shook her head, “I thought we’re in a hurry.”

  “I sent the order down to the printer lab as soon as I woke up,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere without my Asskickers.”

  Apogee grinned, “Okay, Jesus Christ! The boots first, then what?”

  “The hangar bay," I said. "We're stealing the Cicada."

  * * * *

  Steal was a strong word as Apogee led us to the hangar bay, after a short stop in the engineering wing, was told by one of the techs the plane was ready for us. It had been refueled after our flight in from Romania, and was prepped for flight. None of the techs was going to say anything to her, and everyone there knew enough about me to know my status was always in flux. It helped that I had changed out of my hospital gown and into a fresh costume. The Asskickers were based on my most recent designs, all thrust, no control, but they would have to do.

  Apogee took us to seventy five thousand feet, about double the cruising altitude of your average jet airliner, and set the throttle past full before hitting the autopilot. I brought my boots, she brought lunch. We ate sandwiches in silence, with only the whine of the engine echoing through the fuselage and the hard sound of the Cicada tearing through the skies at high speed resounding through the insulation. Something was eating at her, something she wanted to get into. We’d barely had enough time back in Romania when I returned from Amsterdam, half-dead and the more time passed, the more I started to get the feeling that it didn’t bode well for me.

  I kept busy, opening a panel and doing a thorough search of Brutal – focusing in particular on the final report of his capture. Unfortunately, there was little, except a few comments from William Braxton at the NSA – he was still the guy back then – and a newspaper article where one of Lord Mighty’s associates – a retired hero called Visionary – defended some of the outcry revolving around Lord Mighty’s violent methods.

  “A guy like Brutal you don’t negotiate with,” argued Visionary in the op-ed, appearing on the 11th of May editorial section of the New York Times. “You blitz him, take him out, and let the authorities sort it out.”

  The controversy arose from how Brutal was taken down, in a packed street-corner Parisian café, with little care as to collateral damage. Visionary had used the word “blitz” giving me the impression that despite the loss of life and destruction of property, the event hadn’t taken long. Checking with La Monde’s databases, I found the article reporting the actual event, and the number of injured exceeded two hundred, with almost fifty dead. The image of the street corner was reminiscent of a post-War Berlin, with heavy smoke lingering in the air as firefighters struggled to control a raging inferno.

  Brutal could withstand almost any amount of damage once he had “charged” himself, becoming almost god-like with limitless psychokinetic powers. Mighty had found the villain depowered and rushed him with his amazing speed, “taking him out” as Visionary had mentioned. The blitz attack required him to be depowered, though. Rushing him fully charged was akin to suicide and I didn’t want to feel that guy’s draining power again. Once in Amsterdam was enough. Epic was right; I was the wrong guy for this.

  But I had to help. Maybe clearing the scene of innocents, or maybe Brutal would have accomplices. I couldn't just sit idly by. I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit by and let him kill with abandon. I only wish I could go back in time, rewind to right before Haha and his team hit us and try to reason with him, try to control the devastation he laid on Amsterdam.

  One thing was sure; I wasn’t going to let him do that again.

  * * * *

  I don’t know why I thought of Cool Hand as we got closer and closer to the Senator’s Maryland home.

  My attention would waver from the radar display, a floating holo sitting between Apogee and I, showing our remaining flight time as a descending number, now in the seconds, to Apogee and her pre-fight ritual. She flexed and cracked her fingers, one at a time, using her thumb to press them against the flat of her palm. When she finished, she cracked her neck and loosened her shoulders, working the quiver into a full body thing that she carried down to her waist, legs, then her knees and ankles. Then she got started on her fingers again.

  Stretching was of no use for me now. In moments we’d be squaring off against one of the most powerful creatures on the planet. Brutal had already shown that could level a city on a whim. I’m just a guy that’s pretty strong and can take a punch – and if the prevailing theory was right, I was walking battery for Brutal to suck dry like a sponge, empowering himself in the process. Apogee was going to be the primary, and the best thing I could do was stay as far as possible from the big villain and let her handle it.

  Though I harbored doubts that she could. Apogee was the pinnacle of supra-human ability, with incredible speed, strength and endurance and more than a decade of experience beating villains stronger and tougher than her. But Brutal wasn’t like anything she had faced before. It was like fighting one of the Lightbringers – creatures that were near omnipotent.

  My mind flashed back to Amsterdam, recovering after Blackjack 2.0’s Nuke arrow
had knocked me across the city. I lay watching Brutal rise into the sky, a star borne from rage and irascibility, before unleashing on the city. He drew to him the life energy of thousands of sleeping innocents and did battle with Mr. Haha’s team, forcing them off without much trouble, and it was only then that I understood why Cool Hand kept popping back into my head. Regardless of the difficulties that we faced in those few days, including the strangeness of Shard World, Cool Hand was always ready with a quip that would cut through the tension.

  In recalling him, I traversed through some of my worst moments, his death, Influx, Retcon’s genocidal insanity, but also my murder of Pulsewave. It was at that moment that I realized I didn’t belong with the group, that I didn’t belong in the criminal world at all. Influx saw it written on my face, tried to help me reconcile it, but she died shortly after, and the Impossibles died with her. Without her leadership, we were a fractious group of outsiders, incapable of seeing anything past our own desires. I sometimes wonder if things would have turned out differently with her hand steadying us.

  Now I was going to face the man who had borne the brunt of my stupidity more than any other. A man, who from everything I had read, was dedicated to the cause of protecting supers from the excesses of the fearing masses, the man who, with Senator Wattley had written the laws that defined a future coexistence of both supra and normal humans. The guy was so beloved that presidents from both sides of the aisle called upon him for advice on the issues revolving around supers even a decade after his official retirement from public life.

  I could imagine his look of horror as he watched his son plummet a thousand feet to his death. His continued anguish as the man responsible proved impossible to catch, not only embarrassing the best heroes they could muster, but taking one of them as a hostage. Not just any one, but one who had almost married his son. I looked at Apogee and she had never felt further away. I was naïve if I believed this wasn’t weighing on her as well. She had tried to avenge Pulsewave by killing me, that didn’t go away because she had feelings for me.