Two Percent Power (Book 1): Delivering Justice

by Brian Manning

  Speetah turned to her friend. “Manny, it’s Crystal. I’m going to get you out of here.”

  Almost in response to her voice, she noticed that his super power form was peeling away. She could see now, that the same ectoplasmic silk was the same substance that he used to generate his Manerpillar form. It was a shell excreted from his skin to build his protective outer layer. She tore away the disintegrating layers of padding. It had the consistency of dried out foam rubber. Layers of fine webbing floated away with each chunk she pulled free. Even under the powered form, his body was still bruised and bloodied from the beating he took. Speetah hoisted Manny’s body across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry, and left as fast as she could without hurting him anymore.

  There’s no way I can carry him to safety in my condition. Just as the thought came to her, a metallic jingling sound caught her attention. Manny’s keys fell out of his pocket. The van grabbed her attention right away, parked in a corner spot near the front.

  “I never thought I’d be glad to see that eyesore again,” she said over her shoulder to her injured friend.

  CHAPTER

  22

  “We’ve got trouble,” Deadeye said as she marched into Sight’s office.

  Her brisk pace, and lack of acknowledgement for hierarchy plucked at his nerves, but her purposeful stride meant that this was bigger than his own need to maintain the organizational structure. He motioned for her to have a seat in front of his desk.

  She stood next to the chair and tossed a folder onto his desk, fanning its contents as it slapped the surface. Sight looked down at several blurry black and white photos showing two of his Visionaries bound and trapped with some type of webbing.

  “Who took this?” he asked.

  “It’s from a security camera in the parking garage we were using to make contact with the insider.”

  “So it was a trap? He set us up?”

  “No.”

  Again, her curt response, and refusal to append a ‘sir’ onto the end of her statements stung. She reached over his desk and swiped a few of the printouts out of the way until she found the one she wanted. It showed a taller woman with a tail-like appendage flowing from the back of her head. She was locked in combat against an enormous man. A rhino of a man that would make Tension look almost normal.

  “They’re fighting each other. Why was she there?” Sight leaned back in his chair and looked Cassandra in her good eye, only to find that she was already drilling her gaze through him.

  “The fat one was tailing our contact,” she said in a cold even tone.

  “The caterpillar guy?”

  “The Manerpillar. And this one is called Speetah.” She was pressing her finger hard into the photo of the woman fighting the linebacker.

  He took a deep breath to maintain his composure. “And I am to assume from this image,” he held up the first photo with the men bound up, “that they have slipped through our grasp. Is that correct?”

  “Yes…sir” Deadeye’s gaze faltered, dropping just enough to show that she bore the brunt of the responsibility. It was nice to have order restored once again.

  He waved a nonchalant hand in the air “So they’ve discovered the turncoat earlier than anticipated. It is of no concern. We just bring him into the fold sooner, rather than later.”

  “No,” her reply was quick and cold.

  “No?” He raised and eyebrow and looked up to see her looking through him again. Someday that second eye was also going to able to unleash destructive blasts, judging by her intense stare.

  “It goes beyond just this ambush,” She looked down, once again shuffling through the spilled contents of the folder. She slid a map with several red dots on them. Each indicated the designated meeting locations that took place an hour ago. “Here is the parking garage, and here is where our meeting was set up with the Couriers. The two locations are almost four miles apart.”

  Before she could continue, Sight prodded, his impatience bleeding through the cracks in his calm. “And? I fail to see the connection.”

  “One of the Couriers swears he saw someone take off, on foot, with the speed of a motorcycle after their meeting ended. Reports of minor traffic disruptions were happening here, here, and here.” Her finger tapped several intersections, tracing a line from one red dot, to another. “They trailed our contacts to the meetings.”

  “That could be just a mere coincidence,” even Sight didn’t believe it when the statement escaped his lips.

  “This occurred seconds after the Manerpillar interrupted our meeting with Man-vil. She was informed of the meeting, and headed there right away.” Even with a softened expression, her eye was still firing a cold hard beam as she looked up at him.

  “How about the rest of the contacts? Have they spotted any questionable types lingering about?”

  “Detective Miller says he thinks he heard someone talking during his exchange. He had his guys looking around. They found nothing out of the ordinary, but given all this,” She waved her hand over the papers strewn about, “we’ve got to assume every location was compromised.”

  “Very well, you’re right. Just bring the Man-vil in, and we can plan our next move.”

  “He’s out of action. Serious compound fracture of his radial and ulnar bones. His hand has some damage as well.” She spoke with an unnerving calm.

  Sight just looked at her not knowing what to say, or how to react. He had put many resources into turning one of the heroes against their own, and now not only do they already know about it, but he was already out of commission. He lost both the tactical advantage of having a spy, and the muscle he would have added to the Visionary ranks.

  With their possible actions exposed, he had no choice, but to postpone the plan he had set into motion. He couldn’t risk another high-profile battle as they went after a major asset. Their police contacts could only clean up so much.

  “Call the Couriers,” He said. “Tell them to lay low. They are not to acquire the new target.”

  “Yes, sir,” Deadeye said. “What about the others.”

  “Spread the word. Christmas is cancelled. We deal with our infestation first.”

  Speetah rushed to the hospital, as soon as she saw how bad Manny’s condition was. Even though his ‘super form’ protected him from most attacks, Man-vil was far too strong. His body was covered in bruises, and his face was swollen. Nothing looked broken, but there was too much blood for her to get a good look while she was driving.

  “I’ve got Manny,” she said to the others over the radio. “I’m taking him to the emergency room now.”

  “How is he?” Beat Boxer asked.

  “He’s in bad shape. Unconscious, and beat up real bad.”

  “What happened?” Patrick asked.

  “Was it another trap ? That psycho, with the eye blasts?” Boost asked.

  “It wasn’t a trap. The meeting he interrupted was with Man-vil,” She said, as tightness crept up through her shoulders and neck.

  The radio chatter exploded as the other heroes on the line all expressed their rage, surprise, and concern for their friend.

  Patrick did his best to take control of the conversation. “We can’t worry about Man-vil now. Everyone, head to meet Crystal and Manny, and we’ll talk more once he’s in good hands.”

  “You mean just waltz in dressed as costumed vigilantes, and hold court in the lobby?” Beat Boxer asked. Her anger seethed through Speetah’s ear piece.

  “They don’t know who we are, or what we’ve been doing. Besides, we have to make sure we all stay safe. If Man-vil turned on us, who knows what he told them about where we meet,” Patrick said.

  “Right. On my way now,” Boost said.

  “I’m not too far,” Beat Boxer said.

  Speetah slammed the brakes in front of the entrance, and climbed between the seats to the back of the van. “Hang in there,” she whispered as she once again lifted him up onto her broad shoulders. She kicked the side doors open, and headed inside.
>
  She ignored the pointing, stares, and whispers. “My friend is hurt. He needs help now!”

  “What happened to him?” a nurse asked, rushing to help.

  “He was attacked, and beaten badly.”

  The hospital staff jumped into action, bringing a gurney around, and placing Manny onto it. They wheeled him back, one nurse taking charge and issuing commands to the others, as they went through the double doors.

  Speetah tried to follow, but was stopped by a gentle hand grasping her shoulder. “You can’t go back there, but please know that they will do whatever it takes to help him.”

  She looked at the nurse, her kind eyes speaking the truth. With the pace finally dropping to normal levels, Speetah’s head lolled to the side, as her body finally shut down from the strain. She dropped to her knees, and her shoulders sagged. The sounds around here were muffled, like she had her head tucked under a thin pillow. She didn’t hear what the nurse was asking, or when she called for more help. She felt as they lifted her up and placed her onto her back. The lights overhead were racing by as everything went dark.

  Speetah bolted to a seated position whipping her head around. The tail followed each turn, just a beat behind. A startled nurse fell back against a nearby counter, knocking over glass jars of cotton swabs and tongue depressors. “Are you alright, miss?” he regained his composure seconds later.

  “I gotta get out of here,” She growled. “My friends need me.”

  The man stepped into her path as she moved to the door, but retreated back when she looked at him. “Your friend is still being treated. Your vitals are alarming as well,” His voice warbled, lacking the assertive presence of a seasoned doctor. “Your blood pressure is low, but your heart rate is elevated. Far beyond normal ranges for most people, or…” He looked at the tail peeking out behind her.

  Her face twisted to a snarl, and he backed up into the corner again, with his hands raised. “No, I don’t mean anything by that. I’m just not sure what’s normal for most supers.”

  “What do you think is normal for someone like me?” Speetah snapped.

  “I’ve never had to treat a…I’ve only dealt with normal people. Please, just let me make sure everything is ok.” He still stood in the corner with his hands raised to ear level. She shook her head and stepped out of the room as he called after her, trying to convince her to stay.

  She followed the exit signs to navigate her way out of the maze. As she approached the double doors leading to the lobby, she could hear Beat Boxer arguing with the staff out front. As Speetah stepped through the doors, and made eye contact with the others, she could see the stress melting out of Patrick and Boost. She caught Beat Boxer in mid air, who leaped up to give her a big hug. She gave them a weak smile, knowing Manny’s fate was still unknown, but at least he was in good hands.

  Black Paralysis, Trevor, and Broadband met them at the hospital, opting to wait out front, rather than draw more attention inside. The heroes all gathered near the entrance to the ambulance bay, and held an informal meeting.

  “Man-vil turned traitor?” Broadband was visibly upset. “I thought he was one of us.”

  “He was. Who knows for how long, but this couldn’t have been in the works from the beginning,” Black Paralysis said. “I’ve known him for a while. Online at least.”

  “Yeah, this was recent,” Beat Boxer said, recalling how he had helped them escape from the Fear Mongrel and Kill-O-What.

  “I just don’t see how this could happen,” Broadband said.

  “We’re not together 24-7,” Speetah said. “We’re all leading our own lives outside of this. He was caught up in his ‘day job’ more and more the past week, so I’m guessing that’s when they made contact.”

  “And I missed it,” Patrick said. “I put us all in danger, because I wanted to get this going. It was all too fast.”

  “We missed it,” Black Paralysis said. “You can’t take the blame, because this is what we all wanted. Every one of us.”

  “Yeah, we all chose to throw in, and bust some heads for the greater good,” Boost clapped a hand on Patrick’s shoulder.

  “So how is Manny doing?” Beat Boxer asked Speetah.

  “He’s sleeping now. They’ve stabilized him, but no one can say for sure how long he’ll be out.”

  “Or how safe he’ll be in here,” Trevor said.

  “Right. We don’t know who’s in their pocket, or what they’ll try once they find out where he is,” Boost said. “We’ve got to keep Manny safe.”

  “We can’t post guards like he’s in protective custody, but we can at least hang around as friends during visiting hours,” Black Paralysis said.

  “The rest of the time, maybe use some drones to watch for suspicious activity,” Broadband added.

  “No,” Patrick said.

  Everyone looked up at him, stunned at his callous tone.

  “No more hiding. No more running. We want to keep Manny safe, we keep the Visionaries’ eyes fixed on us. We switch to offense.”

  The others looked back and forth, hoping to glean the responses from their team mates before speaking up. Speetah looked Patrick in the eye and nodded her head.

  “We need to start recruiting again,” Black Paralysis said.

  “Send the call out to the community again,” Patrick said. “Don’t tell them what we’re planning. Just tell them where to meet.” He turned to Boost. “Where’s the new guy?”

  “He’s at home. I figured he wasn’t ready to see this.”

  “He’s ready now. Give him a call, tell him to start warming up for the big game.”

  “What are we hoping to accomplish?” Trevor asked.

  “We’re tearing down the Watchtower,” Speetah growled.

  Beat Boxer slammed a fist into the palm of her hand. “Music to my ears!”

  CHAPTER

  23

  Sight sat in his viewing room. A wall of displays piped in a mix of live-action camera feed from around the city, as well as some of the more important events that had been recorded, playing on a loop. He scanned the bright colorful windows into the past and present. Looking for patterns, or weaknesses to exploit. This city was just within his grasp, if he could set his plans into motion.

  Police presence had been increased as of late, but as long as none of his soldiers caused too much property damage or serious injury, none of the law enforcement resources would be allocated to thwart his activities. He had to limit the use of firearms or destructive super powers involved, and as long as they operated at night, Detective Miller assured Sight that they had nothing to worry about. With those part time heroes tripping him up every chance they had, he didn’t want to take them on with his hands tied. He was willing to push the line, and test the limits of their police protection during this pest control operation.

  “Curtains up,” he said over his right shoulder. “Let’s start the show.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Visionary captain said, snapping a sharp salute. Sight wasn’t sure when the whole saluting thing began, but he was sure that he wasn’t the one that requested it. He wasn’t about to put a stop to it, though. It made him feel important. It reminded himself, and the others, who was in charge.

  The young man turned on his heels, and walked out. His heavy boots clacked against the hardwood floor as he left. The plan he was about to set into motion was not some complex, coordinated strike. It didn’t involve decoys, or feints. It was simple. A show of force with his Visionaries flooding the streets in broad daylight to let the city know who was in charge. He would have to stay in touch with the politicians, and police pawns he kept in his pocket, to ensure that they skirted the edge of the line.

  Sight spun his chair around, facing Kill-O-What. “You do know your part, I trust.”

  “Enjoy the show, and jump in when the heroes poke their heads out of their holes,” the villainous super said with a malicious grin. Sight returned the grin and gestured to the door. Kill-O-What nodded and left the room.

  “
Do you need me out there?” Deadeye asked from the dark corner she was standing in.

  “No. I need you here, just in case something goes wrong. Let’s keep the big guns in the safe for now.” He nodded to Tension who stood ever at his side.

  “Where are they?” Patrick asked.

  “All over,” Broadband said over the radio. “They’re all over the place, looting and rioting.”

  Patrick wasn’t expecting Sight to send his soldiers out storming the streets in the middle of the day. He had just organized his own teams into separate parts of the city. Their goal was to strike any and all Visionaries, before they had a chance to report back. He wanted to thin their ranks with fast, coordinated strikes over the course of a few nights. But this was outside of what he expected.

  “What are they after?” Boost asked.

  “Us. They’re trying to draw us out,” Beat Boxer said.

  “Or draw us away from something,” Speetah answered. “Like the kidnapping.”

  “Doesn’t matter why they’re out there. We can’t let them just tear the place apart,” Black Paralysis said.

  “BP is right,” Boost said. “We’ve got to transform and roll out!”

  “Broadband, Big Brother, give us some locations,” Patrick said.

  The rioting was scattered and random, with no central target area. It was just a bunch of unruly young men and women spreading out from the Watchtower and wreaking havoc to anyone and anything in their path. They weren’t even trying to hide the fact that they operated from the lone tower in that part of town.

  Trevor and Troy sent the locations, and used their overhead perspectives to coordinate the heroes as they set out to take on the wave of Visionaries flooding the streets.