Two Percent Power (Book 1): Delivering Justice

by Brian Manning

  Once he reached a safe distance, Patrick continued the discussion.

  “They’re bribing cops?” Broadband asked.

  “I saw a guy handing over a thick envelope to a detective. I doubt he was purchasing tickets to the policeman’s ball,” Patrick said.

  “So that’s why there’s a revolving door for these guys. Even the ones facing an open and shut case are walking,” Speetah said.

  “I don’t know why it surprises me but this is much bigger than we thought.” Patrick slipped the monocular back into his pocket and dropped back down to street level. “What are the rest of you seeing?”

  “Looks like some expensive suit, with a few guys as backup. They’re talking to another group of questionable characters,” Beat Boxer said. “I can get closer to see what they’re talking about.”

  “No. Hang back and just watch for now,” Patrick said.

  “Cool. They’re doling out the goodie bags now. You’re not going to like this. Looks like some fancy hardware.”

  “Weapons?” Broadband asked.

  “Tools. I think we’re looking at another wave of breaking and entering. Same stuff that we got off the guys robbing the jewelry stores.”

  “Alright. See if you can tail the heist crew,” Patrick said. “How about you, Speetah?”

  “Similar situation on my end,” Speetah said. “Except the suit is talking to a few gear heads. Getaway drivers, maybe. Even I would have trouble keeping up with those cars.”

  “What are they planning?” Patrick wondered aloud.

  “More theft. More kidnapping. No reason to think they’re going to change their tune now,” Broadband said. “We’ve been playing it low key for a while, so they probably think now is the time to set their plans back into motion.”

  “So, what are you seeing, Broadband?” Patrick asked.

  “I’ve got the feed zoomed in as far as it will go, but it’s still tough to make out details. I’m seeing the opposite of what you guys see, so far. Same suit, but the other guy is dressed just as sharp, and the exchange is going the other way. He just handed off a briefcase.”

  “Extortion?” Patrick asked.

  “No, they seem pretty buddy-buddy. No money in the case. Just documents.” Broadband was giving the play by play in short burst transmissions. “There’s the payment. He just handed over an envelope. It’s either some insider trading tips or some sensitive materials he’s selling.”

  “Follow the second man,” Patrick said. “Don’t worry about the Visionary car. We need to know who the other guy is, and what he’s handing over. I don’t want to find out months from now when they unleash some scary new tech against us.”

  “Manny, what have you got?” Patrick asked.

  After a few seconds of silence, he asked again. “Manny? Seeing anything?”

  Manerpillar’s voice was hard to make out. He was whispering into the mic. “I’m in an underground parking lot. I can’t see much from here, so I’ll call you when I get closer.”

  Patrick crouched next to a brick wall and held a hand over his ear to pick up as much as he could.

  “Looks like some lawyer type, with a few Visionary thugs playing secret service. There’s someone approaching.” Manny’s voice strained as he moved from cover to cover, trying to get a closer look. “They’re meeting with a big dude. Some type of recruiting meeting.”

  Over the radio, a voice in the background came in clear, echoing through the parking structure. “There’s someone watching us.”

  Manny radioed back. “I’ve been spotted. It’s game time, but I could use some back up here.”

  Patrick called to Broadband. “We need to know where he is now. Find the most probable parking lot in the last known direction that car was headed.”

  “Already on it,” his response was almost immediate. He passed the location to the others.

  “Headed there now,” Speetah’s voice was strained as she pushed her power to the limit.

  Beat Boxer, Boost, and H2Grow also acknowledged the location and moved to help. Patrick knew that Speetah would be the first one there, but they still had to hurry, in case this was another trap.

  Manny’s voice came in caked with static for one last transmission. He was talking to someone else, not the team. “What are you doing here?”

  Manny’s van was not inconspicuous in the least, but among the thick midday traffic, it had a chance of blending in. He did his best to stay off the horn, not wanting the extra attention, and kept as many cars between his target vehicle and his as he could, without losing sight of it. On the plus side, his van was tall enough to give him a good sight line to the gunmetal gray luxury sedan. He had plenty of time to react to their turns due to the distance as well. A few times it got a little shaky when traffic lights separated them, but things tended to balance back out when their car hit an inconvenient red light as well.

  Manny listened in on the others as they discussed what they were seeing. Judging by what he heard, he was expecting the same high priced suit to step out and meet with some other shady people. After traveling a couple of miles along major roads, his quarry headed down into an underground parking structure. Not wanting to appear too clingy, he pulled over to a nearby curb, and waited for the other car to move a little deeper into the structure. As he hit the button at the front gate to grab the ticket he thought to himself, Six bucks? I don’t think I’m going to be able to get this validated.

  He found a suitable parking spot in a far corner of the lot and stepped out, making sure to close the door as quiet as possible. The parking lot wasn’t very large. A single level, with about half of the spots occupied. He could see the other car sitting in a spot with the taillights still on. After a moment, the lights turned off and all four doors opened.

  He could hear Patrick addressing him. Keeping his posture and voice low, he replied. “I’m in an underground parking lot. I can’t see much from here, so I’ll call you when I get closer.”

  Four people stepped out of the car. The driver and the two occupants in the back seat were wearing the full Visionary regalia. Their uniforms were matched much more than the usual rabble they ran into. The passenger was dressed to impress, with his expensive fitted suit.

  “Looks like some lawyer type, with a few Visionary thugs playing secret service. There’s someone approaching.” Manny was moving from car to car, as he closed the distance. “They’re meeting with a big dude. Some type of recruiting meeting.”

  The larger man approached the crew, but he was so tall, his head stayed cloaked in the shadows of the overhead beams while he strolled up. Manerpillar attempted to get closer to see who they were meeting. He stepped out too far, as he moved around another car. A voice stopped him in his tracks. “There’s someone watching us.” One of the Visionaries alerted the rest of the group.

  Manny spoke in a casual tone to the others, no longer needing to stay hidden. “I’ve been spotted. It’s game time, but I could use some back up here.”

  The suit moved back, putting the sedan between Manny and himself. The three bodyguards approached with fists up, ready to rumble. He was thinking of a clever quip to toss at them, like Boost would. Instead, he stood with a smirk, tilting his head and holding his arms out. An invitation. Come at me, bro.

  “The not-so Mighty Manerpillar.” A low rumbling voice rattled the nearby car windows, as the large figure stepped out of the shadows, past the three Visionaries.

  “What are you doing here?” Manny’s voice was filled with equal parts curiosity, and shock, as he stared up at Man-vil.

  A broad smile split the big man’s bearded face. “I’m playing for the winning team now.”

  Manerpillar took a few steps back and raised his hands, ready to fight. Man-vil didn’t have his hammer on him, but the numbers were on his side.

  “Aw, you mean you’re going to fight us using that tiny, brittle body?” Man-vil put on a facade of disappointment. “I prefer your other soft fluffy form. Suit up, little man. I want to enjoy ever
y second of this.”

  It was well over three miles from the corner where Speetah started and the parking structure to which she was headed. If she pushed herself to her max speed, and maintained that pace, she would reach Manerpillar in about three minutes. She wouldn’t be in the best shape to take on whatever Manny had stumbled into, but she drove the thought to the back of her head, opting to get there as fast as possible, no matter what condition she would be in when she arrived.

  Crystal’s shoulders were pulled back, creating tension in her back and core. Each step was a long bounding stride, as the balls of her feet gripped the asphalt. Her eyes were slits, shielding them from the wind as she reached her limit. There was no way to know how fast she was weaving in and out of traffic as she moved. Every intersection she approached was a nerve wracking gamble. Crystal poured on the speed with each green light, bolting across the street, but each red light was a potential disaster. She had to slow down enough to see the cars approaching from either side, just slow enough to maneuver around the traffic pattern and get by. Horns blasted, drivers shouted, and cars swerved to avoid her. To most drivers, she just looked like a crazy motorcycle whipping through, but a few saw that she was on foot, running through the streets.

  Nearing her destination, Speetah skidded to bleed off her speed. Her legs strained to change directions, as her tail accounted for every movement, acting as both a rudder and a counter-balance. She ran through an alley, moving around larger obstacles and vaulting over fences with minimal effort. Her body was able to keep up with the demands she was asking of it, but she could feel the fast thumping of her heart. Each breath burned her throat and chest, and her head was pounding. This was the fastest she had ever run, and the furthest she had ever maintained the speed.

  They had lost contact with Manny before she even started running, but that was several minutes ago. The chances of him still being at the parking garage were high. She didn’t doubt that. Crystal just feared what condition he would be in. Maintaining her speed while approaching was a bad idea all around. She needed to see what she was running into, while hoping to maintain the element of surprise. It was difficult to stop at the entrance ramp. She struggled to stop and had to put her shoulder on the solid concrete wall to prevent herself from tumbling in. Speetah was fortunate that she was able to slow down enough to avoid injury.

  A car alarm was blaring from inside, but she could also hear voices laughing and cheering. One bass-heavy booming voice in particular was familiar, and sent chills down her spine. It was Man-vil’s voice. Her heart and head were still throbbing, and her legs felt heavier. She was struggling to take in air as her lungs begged for more than the short rapid panting breaths. Speetah swallowed, relaxed as much as she could, and pulled in two deep breaths, releasing each in a hissing exhale between her teeth. It was now or never. Her takeoff was quick, like a sprinter pushing off of starting blocks.

  She moved at the speed of the average human’s sprint. Minimal effort for her. Even at that pace, her steps were soft and quiet. The digital howling of the car alarm masked it, but she still kept her movements smooth and quiet. Speetah saw the small crowd in the far corner. There were three men fighting Manerpillar, Man-vil and two Visionaries. Two others were wrapped up in Manny’s ectoplasmic silk, and a third, some suit, was watching from behind one of the same sedans they were following around the city. Man-vil was holding Manerpillar’s unconscious body up over his head. He let out a hearty guffaw, and threw the limp form against a nearby car, shattering the driver side and back windows.

  As one of the Visionaries moved in to deliver a soccer kick, Speetah opened up the throttle. The 25 yards of distance between herself and the enemy was chewed up in an instant. She leaped for the man and flew feet first, like a missile. She kicked planting both feet between her target’s shoulder blades, launching the unsuspecting Visionary face first into the same car that Manny was just thrown into. The sound of a face striking a car door reverberated through the parking structure.

  Speetah landed on her back, as she slapped her hands out to help dissipate the impact. Curling her legs up and rounding her back, she kicked up and pulled her feet back underneath her, standing up again to face the others.

  Man-vil was caught off guard as he stepped to his right. He glanced over his shoulder, the sight of his old teammate brought the smile back to his face. “Well, well, well. Nice of you to grace us with your presence.” He turned, massaging the knuckles of one meaty hand with the other. “Looks like curiosity is about to kill the cat woman.” He wasted no time before rushing in for the attack.

  The fatigue sapped most of her speed and agility, making it difficult to avoid Man-vil’s wide arcing swings. If just one of those ham fists connected, she would be flattened on the ground next to Manerpillar. She moved backwards with each dodge, pulling the battle away from her friend. The oaf took the bait and followed. He flailed with pure anger, growing more and more enraged with each swing finding only air. The other Visionary stayed behind his ally, weaving side to side, hoping to find an opening to help.

  You want to play, too? She thought. Timing her movements, she ducked underneath Man-vil’s haymaker, moving behind the behemoth, and watched as his massive bulk built up momentum for a spinning back fist strike. The tall, lanky Visionary’s eyes bugged out, as she grabbed a handful of his jacket and jerked him into the path. Man-vil’s fist slammed into the poor man’s jaw, and whipped over Speetah’s face, as she bent backwards to escape the blow. The Visionary laid on his side, hands covering what was left of his shattered jawbone as blood pooled near his face.

  If she didn’t get her hands on a weapon to even the odds, she was going to end up the same. Man-vil didn’t even slow down to acknowledge what he had done to his own team member. Plodding forward with heavy steps, he wound up for another swing. Speetah had to act fast. Using her speed, she put more space between them, and spotted a fire extinguisher. As the big blacksmith closed the distance again, she circled around a parked car, and bolted for the pillar with the case. Her elbow shattered the glass, and she pulled the heavy red canister free from its rack.

  The sound of heavy boots pounding the concrete grew closer. Speetah spun around, holding the fire extinguisher ready hammer away. With a quick shuffle step, she avoided a round house right hand, whizzing by close enough to move the short hair on her head. He was tiring and losing speed. Perfect. She brought the metal cylinder up next to her ear, and stepped back in, slamming the base of her weapon into Man-vil’s exposed head. Metal clanged against metal, as the makeshift club struck the iron skull of a statue.

  The vibration rang through her forearms and up through her elbows, as she stumbled away, falling to her back. The iron form peeled away as the giant of a man stood back to face her. “Figured you’d try that.” The ringing of metal on metal still echoed off the concrete walls. He thundered forward, bringing a heavy heel smashing down onto the ground, just as she rolled out of the way. Speetah swung the fire extinguisher from her back, at his knee. She had no leverage to generate any real power, but achieved her desired result just the same. Before the metal base plate contacted, he once again shifted to his iron statue form.

  In this form, Speetah knew he had no use of any of his senses, so she scrambled to her feet to get behind him. She stood poised in his blindspot, just as he changed back, looking around for his opponent. The red metal canister was already swinging along its path as he turned into the strike. He had no time to react, as the clanging sound was muted by the flesh between Man-vil’s cheekbone and her improvised weapon. The blow was enough to stun him, as his elbow dented the hood of the car that broke his fall. His hand was pressed to his head, just below his left eye, where the blow landed flush.

  Man-vil stood up as his hand came away wet with his blood. The same blood that colored the flesh of his face red, as his cheeks flushed. The same blood that rushed to his eyes, making him see red. The bull was about to charge. Speetah moved away, but her back struck a concrete pillar. As the angry
titan rushed in, she pulled the pin of the fire extinguisher and unleashed a cloud of sodium bicarbonate, just as he threw a straight right hand, aimed at her skull. Speetah knew the dry chemical cloud wouldn’t stop Man-vil, but it afforded her the cover she needed to drop to the ground, clear of the path of his blow. There was an intense sound, like a hardwood baseball bat cracking, and the bellowing scream of a man that just been struck by said bat.

  Speetah rolled away, stood up and held the canister up, ready to strike. As the cloud cleared, Man-vil dropped to his knees, clutching what looked like a fleshy sack full of loose parts to assemble a human arm. The bones in his hand and forearm weren’t a match for his own strength and momentum, as they struck the now cracked concrete pillar. Her beating heart jumped into her throat. That blow would have crushed her head like a melon and still probably destroyed his arm just the same. His mouth was opened wide, letting out furious howls of pain, with each breath. She was about to move in for the kill, but then she heard the faint chirp, signaling the end of a car alarm, reminding her of the reason she came here. Manny! The fire extinguisher clattered against the ground where she dropped it as Speetah ran back to her friend.

  The coward in the suit was now trying to cut one of his associates free from his silken bonds with a small pocket knife. He spun around as she approached. Rivulets of sweat cut lines down the professional spray tanned skin of his face, and his hundred dollar hairstyle was now a stringy mess. He stood between Manny and Speetah, clutching the blade in two hands, like he was wielding Excalibur. As the suit noticed her looking at her fallen friend, he pointed his blade toward the unconscious hero.

  “You’re a good ten feet away. Are you going to shoot a laser out of that thing?” she asked, walking toward him with an air of confidence. His legs shuddered, as he took several tiny steps to maintain his balance. Once she broke his personal space bubble, he tried to whip the knife to threaten her. Speetah planted the ball of her foot right into his bladder, as hard as she could. He folded like an old pillow, and cried in pain as a dark wet stain ruined his pressed slacks.