Two Percent Power (Book 1): Delivering Justice

by Brian Manning

  “Yeah, it’s all pretty clear. We’re being played,” Beat Boxer said.

  “The rerun scenarios are getting more dangerous, too,” Patrick said. “They know we can’t afford to ignore them. And now that they know their plan is compromised, who knows what they’ll be planning.”

  “What would you suggest we do?” Broadband asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I do. We hunt,” Speetah said.

  “Yes!” Trevor slammed a fist into an open palm. His fist hit much harder than he intended, causing him to shake his hand out in pain.

  “About time we turn the tables,” Man-vil said.

  “We can’t risk that,” Patrick said, curbing the excitement.

  “Why not?” Speetah moved to look him in the eye.

  “Because we’re out manned, out gunned, and just plain out matched,” Black Paralysis said. “They have bodies, money, weapons, and the initiative. Anything too aggressive is bound to get us killed.”

  “Well then, we stick to the shadows. Strike when they’re not looking. We stalk our prey.” Speetah was looking around the room for support.

  “Sean is right. We can’t risk anything that could get us hurt,” Patrick said.

  “Doing nothing is going to get someone killed!” Speetah said. “The Visionaries are out there targeting the people that live here. We can’t just keep rushing out on their terms, and fight the fights they want us to. It’s going to overwhelm us at some point.”

  The room was quiet. Deep down Patrick agreed with her. They couldn’t just keep walking into trap after trap to avoid the real challenge. “We need to reach out to the others again.” He turned to face Manerpillar. “I don’t think they can ride the bench this time.”

  “Yeah. Yeah I think you’re right. I’ll send out the message.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Beat Boxer asked.

  Patrick turned to address the group. “We hunt them, stalk them. We take them down.”

  “Yes!” Trevor slammed his fist into his hand hurting it again.

  Sight held his hand over his eyes. The warmth did little to sooth his stress and frustration. He watched through the eyes of The Fear Mongrel to ensure that they acquired the physicist without any complications. Dr. Greene was the most important part of the plan. The Visionaries had succeeded in the other two missions, gathering all of the technology and diamonds required to build his device.

  The research that they had gathered through the backdoor in the University’s network, proved that it was possible to boost Sight’s abilities using technology. To build a device that would allow him to tap into the eyes of anyone in range of the sub devices they would be planting all over the city. He would share the vision of high ranking officials, corporate management, and even law enforcement. Always one step ahead of everyone.

  Of course, it would have taken months of the good doctor’s time, but that was why they needed his family as well. To give him the proper motivation to finish the device. Instead, tonight’s failure will set them back even further. Dr. Greene was placed in protective custody, no doubt. The network backdoors would be found and patched within days. They had all the data copied, but any new developments would be out of their grasp.

  Who were these masked menaces causing him grief at the most inopportune moments? The same young man, with his white goo. His spies have reported that he is actually using milk. Nonsense. If you had the ability to control liquids like that, why choose something as ridiculous and inconvenient as milk. That blasted cat woman, with that ludicrous tail attached to her head, he thought. She was able to chase down and save the family after the car made a clean getaway. Sight knew about Man-vil already. The big blacksmith vigilante, hammering his soldiers into submission. The Mighty Man-vil was already well known in underground circles before he joined this new group. Sight had only written notes about the third woman. The small one, with the light trails. The one that almost succeeded in bringing down The Fear Mongrel. He thought they were always exaggerating her ability in the reports, but to see her in action made the notes seem conservative.

  Seven heroes now. Seven, plus the team providing them with the support, keeping them organized. The group had grown since they had dealt with the original four in the attempted trap months ago. Sight refused to deal with them when Deadeye suggested they do so. He reigned her in, opting to string them along. To lure them away, like cats chasing a laser and keep their eyes off of the real prize. His grand plan had now failed. A catastrophic failure that would negate the previous successes. The hardest part now would be unleashing Deadeye, knowing that she had been right all along, without having to admit it to her. She was a professional, and never reveled in such petty victories, but it didn’t take the sting out of it.

  Now, Sight had to put his game face on. He needed to get the official report from Deadeye, pretending he didn’t already know the actual outcome, by watching through the eyes of his own men. It was often difficult to hide the disappointment, but knowing ahead of time allowed him to keep his emotions in check. It was this mask of calm that he used to build his persona. His character. Sight hit the button on the intercom, calling Deadeye in.

  Deadeye held the report in her hands, resisting the urge to roll the stack of papers up. She wasn’t the best at controlling her temper, but it was important to deliver the news to Sight, without any sign of emotion. He knew what had already happened, she was sure of it. He always knew.

  Deadeye wore a new visor. Still a mirrored material, but this was a stronger laminate. Designed to not only take more punishment, but also held together with a clear membrane designed to prevent it from shattering like he last one. It was heavier, serving to remind her of its presence. But it did help her feel more secure. She stepped through the door, held open by another Visionary. Sight was standing behind his desk, in his ‘super villain, watching over the city’ pose he always liked to be in when anyone entered the room. The same way he always addressed them as they entered.

  “Deadeye, my dear. Welcome.” He turned to face her.

  It was a cheap trick. She knew he used the reflection on the window to watch them come in, but he thought it made him look more impressive. Like he had eyes in the back of his head.

  Sight held his hand out for the report as she approached. Her hands inched forward, and then stopped. She tightened her grip, wrinkling the pages. “I assume you already know what happened, sir. You always seem to know.”

  He was caught off guard, but kept his cool. He looked into her uncovered eye, and paused a moment before replying. “Of course I know. But I don’t know everything. I’m sure your report can help to shed some light on the dark spots in my data.” He held his hand out again. “Now, please…enlighten me.”

  She handed him the report and stood firm in front of his desk. “Sir, I believe you’re making a mistake continuing down this path.”

  He looked up over the papers he was reading. “I can’t say you’re completely wrong,” he said, looking back to finish the report.

  “I just think that—”

  He lifted a finger to stop her. Shushing her like a child. Her blood boiled as he finished reading his report. She was on the verge of snapping her visor over, and shredding the pages with a quick blast.

  Once he finished, he placed the pages into a drawer, and sat back down. “You may be right about our current path. However, we have also failed in our brute force approach, bringing more attention to ourselves.”

  Sight steepled his fingers, and placed them in front of his lips. His ‘thinking man’ pose. After a moment of consideration, he spoke again. “While I do expect my Visionaries to follow my lead, I am man enough to admit when I am wrong. I do appreciate a second set of eyes,” He pointed two fingers at his own eyes. “I made the decision to lure them away, not foreseeing this turn of events, and it has proven to be a tremendous setback for us. You were right in your original plan to continue the pursuit.”

  Again he stood and walked to face the window. The pl
ace he liked to deliver his most poignant lines. “I trust your vision. We will once again draw them out, and bring them down. One at a time.”

  “Understood, sir.” Deadeye turned to walk out.

  “Our existence is known. Our tactics understood. We are now in the spotlight of law enforcement.”

  She turned back around to see that he was once again facing her.

  “While I prefer you not draw any more attention to yourself, we’re not in a position to prevent that anymore. I want you to do whatever it takes to bring down this milk man and his ilk.” He fired a cold stare in her direction. “Bring whomever you need.”

  Deadeye smiled at the new orders and nodded in response. Turning on her heels, she walked out of the room. The Fear Mongrel and Kill-O-What were back at the Watchtower, and there were a few more supers within the ranks to draw from. She pulled a phone from her breast pocket, and dialed a number in her contact list. “We’re back on the board. Get everyone ready.”

  CHAPTER

  19

  Two dozen soldiers stood at attention. Hands at their sides, uniforms fitted, and chins held high and proud. This was Sight’s best and brightest of the non-super Visionaries. His elite guard. They were the ones he sent when he couldn’t risk failure. This was no award ceremony, however. He wasn’t about to pin ribbons on any of these men and women for pulling off some daring heist. He gathered them here because they hadn’t managed a successful ‘mission’ in weeks. Including the failed kidnapping attempt, their numbers have dwindled.

  Sight pressed his palms to his eyes, and then ran his hands back across his hair, where they met in the back to make sure his ponytail was still gathered and secure. He was proud of his still full head of hair, even though a few silver strands snaked their way through his sandy blonde locks. Still, the feeling always helped him to slow his breathing and calm down. He stroked his facial hair down with one hand, before turning back to face his troops.

  “You are a rather intelligent bunch of men and women, so I’m sure you have a clear picture of why you were gathered here.” He paced back and forth, from one end of the group to the other. His hands were clasped behind his back now. Each step was a slow methodical action. Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. He liked the soft metronome clicking of his boots on the polished floor.

  “We have reached a point in our organization’s growth where one expects opposition. In order to surpass this obstacle, we must change our plans. We must adapt, or we will stagnate. Our eyes must stay fixed firmly upon our ultimate goal. I’ll admit, I didn’t see this happening so soon.” He turned and started back with the same measured pace.

  “We must not lose focus on our objectives. When I send you out, the mission is crystal clear. You know what you must do.” Again he turned, starting another lap. This time his pace increased, the metronome boot clicks increased a few beats per minute.

  “We mustn’t let these intruders, these interlopers, blind us to what we must accomplish.” Sight pointed a finger to his eye, emphasizing his point.

  He continued his rallying speech. Each lap just a bit quicker than the last, his cadence matching his stride. The soldiers raised their shoulders a little higher. Held firm, and raised their chins a bit more. He could see that this was working. That he was on the verge of whipping them into a frenzy. This was the way to lead. Not by berating and punishing those who have failed him. But by asking more of them. By showing them there is a higher bar to reach. Giving them the encouragement that they have yet to receive at home. That’s why they joined the Visionaries, after all. He led, not with a firm hand, or a stern voice. He led by watching over his flock. Helping them share a vision, and walk the same path. Never mind that their path served to make him richer and more powerful. He must always keep their gaze fixed on the future, and not looking back to see him reaping all of the benefits. That would distract them, causing them to lose the focus necessary to finish the mission. Even with smaller groups like this, he finished his rally with his usual outro. He punctuated every important gathering the same way.

  “No one saw this coming, no one believed this could happen, but this is our vision! Can you see it?”

  The group shouted in unison. “Yes!”

  “CAN YOU SEE IT!?”

  “WE SEE IT!”

  As if on cue, Tension walked into the room, followed by The Jack Hammer, Hair Devil, Kill-O-What, and The Fear Mongrel. I can’t believe he’s still using ‘the’ in his name, Sight thought, as he watched them approach. He waved and stepped away from the group as they continued chanting. Walking toward his office, he motioned for the three supers to follow.

  “So it’s confirmed? Milk? He used milk to escape?” Sight asked. He stood behind his desk, leaning forward with his fists on the dark wood surface.

  “Yes, sir,” The Fear Mongrel answered.

  “Please tell me how. Were you holding cookies and all of a sudden needed some milk for dunking?”

  “No. It was his power. He was able to control it.”

  “I know that, but its milk! Are you lactose intolerant? Are you a vegan? How, pray tell, did a young man with the ability to toss milk around, get the better of you?”

  “I wouldn’t say he got the better of us,” Kill-O-What said.

  “Oh?” Sight snapped his gaze to the other man. “Well then, please enlighten me of what you would say.”

  “I—”

  “That wasn’t a request,” Sight cut him off, knowing his foolish answer would just frustrate him more. “I don’t see a high level physicist sitting upstairs working on calculations for me. I also don’t see anything here showing me how you eliminated the constant nuisance of these costumed kids, meddling in our affairs. That, to me, says they did, in point of fact, get the better of you.”

  The super shrank back, accepting his statement.

  Sight looked down at his desk, and held up a hand. He didn’t want to continue the discussion while he was so angry. He took several deep breaths to calm himself, so the talk could still be productive. He placed his hands behind his back, and strolled around his desk, until he was behind the others. Tension followed close by, always ready to step in and protect his boss. The four supers continued facing forward, casting casual nervous glances back, to make sure they weren’t about to catch a baseball bat to the dome.

  “I didn’t call you in here for this pointless bickering. It’s plain to see that it won’t get us anywhere. We play this smart, and gather the information we need to fight this small band of heroes. We will step back so that we may see the forest for the trees.” Sight was staring off into space, punctuating each sentence with the index finger of each hand rocking as he spoke. “I’ve already spent some social capital to purchase a few favors, put some eyes out on the streets, and see if we can’t find something we can use to shut them down.”

  Sight continued around the desk until he reached his chair. He braced himself up on the armrests and took his time lowering himself down. As if he were trying to get a feel for the chair, sitting in it for the first time. Once he settled his weight he leaned back and clasped his hands together in front of his chest. “The four of you will report to Deadeye immediately. She is in charge, and be will making all of the decisions from now on.”

  “So, what if she sets up another failed trap? Should we come to you at that point?” The Jack Hammer asked.

  “ALL of the decisions. She will tell you what to eat for breakfast. She will tell you where to stand. She alone will tell you when and whom to attack.”

  The four of them each looked at one another, hoping someone would have the bravery to challenge the decision. They each feared Sight, Tension, and Deadeye, so no one was about to step up, for fear of being hammered back down.

  “I’m sorry, am I not being clear enough for you?” Sight stood up and leaned on his desk again. “She is assembling her teams now. You may go.”

  They stood, nodded several times at Sight, and walked out the door.

  Tension walked to the front of the desk, lookin
g at Sight as he touched his fingers to his chest.

  “No, I still need you here with me. Things are getting a little hectic with the recruits. I need someone to pound some sense into them if they start acting up.”

  Tension dipped his chin and resumed his watch.

  “They still need me to show them the light, whether they realize it or not,” Sight said. His voice was just above a whisper, talking more to himself than to his silent bodyguard.

  He picked up the phone and dialed. After several rings someone answered. Sight skipped the formal greetings and just got to the point. “Set up a meeting. Next week.” His voice was masked by a digital modulator. “Yes, everyone.”

  Sight settled the handset into the cradle, and leaned forward on his elbows. His hands were overlapped, as his chin rested on his thumbs. All the pieces were now in motion.

  Deadeye slid her visor halfway across, before snapping it back to her right, checking to make sure it rode smooth and true on its track. She once again had the authority to pursue their adversaries. Although she didn’t always agree with Sight’s methods, she had great respect for his patience. His ability to play the long game, looking much further down field than the others. This time she drew her talent from the proven Visionaries. Those who have seen battle, and put time on the streets. She would not treat them as fodder, like last time. She would rely on their skills and experience. The rest would be filled out with lower and middle soldiers that knew enough to follow the lead of the others.

  In previous encounters, Deadeye let her anger and animosity towards self-appointed superheroes control her actions. This time, she would learn from Sight, and look at the big picture. She would be watching her prey, and gathering information. For the past couple of days there had been no visible activity; her quarry hid from sight. The cowards are tucked into their cubby holes, licking their wounds, but she knew they would have to come up for air sometime.