by Wyatt Kane
“You made that?” Tempest asked.
“Out of the toaster and microwave oven,” Brad said. “Don’t know how I can heat my lunch, now.”
“Yeah,” Ty said. “Seems that my skill might be useful after all.”
Tempest smiled warmly. “Looks like it.” She tilted her head to the side. “Does that mean you’ve reconsidered?”
Ty could hear the genuine interest. She really hoped that he had. But he still didn’t really know what to think.
“Ty, if you don’t, you are officially the dumbest person I know. I thought that before I met your friend. Now? There’s something wrong with you, man.”
Ty couldn’t help it. He had to grin. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
It was enough for the time being. Tempest nodded, then turned her attention back to the men on the ground. “Right, let’s see if we can wake one of these guys and find out what they know.”
With that, she reached for the man who was starting to groan and flipped him easily onto his back. Then she gripped him by the belt and the front of his jacket and hoisted him into the air. She did it easily, as if he weighed no more than a child, and carried him to the sofa before sitting him down. The movement was enough to joggle the intruder closer to wakefulness, but not to make him fully alert.
“Right,” Tempest said. “Now we have some room to move. Let’s see if we can wake him up properly.”
Brad stared, open-mouthed. He shot Ty a look and mouthed the words, “Holy shit.”
Even Ty was impressed. He knew she could carry him easily, but the mercenary was considerably bigger and heavier than he was. Yet she showed no strain at all.
“What can I do to help?” Ty asked.
Tempest slapped the mercenary hard across the face once, twice, and again. She assessed him closely. “Not much for the moment,” she replied. “Although if you have a pair of pliers?”
The stunned intruder blinked, looked vaguely about and made a noise that might have been an attempt at speech. Ty wondered if the man’s tongue might be numb due to the stun gun. Not that he cared overly much.
“Sure,” he said. He didn’t know what Tempest wanted with the pliers exactly, but it sounded ominous. And not necessarily healthy for the man on the couch.
Tempest slapped the man again, and this time he came back to full wakefulness.
“Stop that,” he slurred, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.
Tempest smiled sweetly. “Welcome back,” she said. “I’m going to give you a moment here, just so that you can look around and take in the situation.”
Ty gathered the pliers from where he’d left them on the kitchen bench as the intruder did what Tempest suggested. His expression was clear. He looked around the room, his eyes fixating for a moment on his companions on the floor, then taking in and dismissing Brad in an instant, before settling on Ty.
He was the one who had threatened Ty with the baton. He looked angry. “I’m gonna get you for that, boy,” the man snarled at Ty. “I’m gonna grab that toy of yours and jam it up your ass!”
Tempest slapped him again, but harder this time. It rocked his head sideways and he couldn’t help but let out a gasp of pain.
“Now, now,” Tempest said, admonishing him. “That’s more than enough of that. In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re in no position to carry out any threats. But we are.”
The man glared at her. “I can’t feel my hands.”
Ty barked a laugh. “Yeah, that’s my fault,” he said. He didn’t enjoy being threatened by the tough-looking intruder and was more than happy to remind him who had won their fight. He made no move at all to help the man out.
Neither did Tempest. She ignored the miscreant’s words as if they meant nothing to her. “Well, I guess if you can’t feel your hands, we’ll have to look elsewhere for sources of motivation.”
With that, she eyed the intruder up and down in a professional, businesslike manner. “Ty, did you find those pliers I asked for?” she asked.
Ty stepped over the other two mercenaries and offered them over. “Thank you. Now, do you think you could remove his shoes and socks?”
The intruder didn’t seem to like that idea at all. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” he grated, his voice betraying more anger than fear. He tried to lash out, tried to kick, but Ty danced out of the way.
Tempest’s reaction was different. She lunged forward and gripped the man’s crotch.
“Play nice!” she said.
The mercenary froze. He was muscular and strong, and not used to being in situations where he wasn’t in control. Nor did he appear to be enjoying Tempest’s grip very much. Yet he continued to snarl.
“Get off me, you bitch!” he said.
Tempest twisted her grip and the man flinched and cried out in pain. But he also lost his belligerence.
Ty didn’t know whether to be jealous at the intimacy of what Tempest was doing or empathize with the pain. In the end, he settled on admiring Tempest’s efficiency.
She looked at the pliers she held in her other hand. “I guess we won’t be needing these after all,” she said, and casually tossed them aside. Then she leaned close. “Right. These are the rules,” she said. “We are going to ask you some questions. You are going to answer them, and you are going to answer them truthfully. If you don’t, you get to wave goodbye to any chance of ever having children. Do I make myself clear?”
The mercenary just glared at her as if the intensity of his hate could bore holes in her head.
Tempest didn’t change her expression. She just squeezed. Ty could see it clearly, and even he winced. Brad was starting to squirm in place, and the intruder let out a cry that mixed rage with disbelief and agony, before dissolving into a series of cursing and threats. Yet there was nothing he could do. Ty’s makeshift handcuffs were doing the job very nicely.
“Now, that was just a taste,” Tempest said. “It seemed you weren’t listening to what I was saying. So perhaps you will listen more closely now.”
The intruder’s face had turned bright red. He started struggling on the sofa, trying to get his arms free. In response to Tempest’s words, he simply snarled and called her an awful name.
As calmly as before, Tempest twisted her grip again.
“No! No, stop! Okay, I’ll tell you what you need to know.”
Tempest paused. She smiled sweetly. “Of course you will. And you will keep a civil tongue in your head as you do, am I right?”
The tough, hardened mercenary, a veteran of an unknown military organization, started to blub like a schoolgirl. “Yes! Yes, anything you say!”
“Glad to hear it. Now, let’s start with an easy one, shall we? What is your name?”
“John,” the man replied. “John Smith,” he said.
Immediately, Tempest’s expression hardened. Her intent was clear.
“No! It really is my name! John Smith! I swear!”
Now Tempest hesitated. It may well have been his name. Or he may have simply been testing to see if she could spot a lie.
“John Smith,” she said. “It’s as good a name as any, I guess. But here’s the thing. The rules have now changed. You made me doubt your answer. Do it again, even if your answer is true, and you’ll regret it. Understand?”
“Yes,” John whimpered. He was breathing hard, beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, and his face was a grimace of pain. “I understand.”
“Good. Now, where were we?”
14: Crusher Fury
It sounded like a rhetorical question, as if Tempest was simply taking the time to order her thoughts. But Ty already had his questions in mind. This man had attacked him in his own apartment, and now, after the fact, he found himself resenting the intrusion.
He didn’t wait. “You are after the device.” It wasn’t really a question, yet John nodded anyway. “How did you find me? How did you find out where I live?”
The mercenary nodded again. He understood Ty’s question. Yet he
paused for just long enough before answering that Tempest’s expression hardened again. “We used a sniffer!” he said, almost shouting the words. It was as if he thought the volume would convince Tempest of his truthfulness.
“A sniffer?” Ty asked.
John nodded. “Yeah. Tech. Works like a bloodhound. We followed your scent from the alley back to where you came from. Found the Club where you work and asked the manager for your address.”
Ty was incredulous. “And she told you?”
Despite his pain, despite his fear of continual torture, John Smith managed a feeble grin. “Yeah. We just walked up all official-like. She didn’t bat an eyelid.”
Ty had always loathed Angie. She was cruel and spiteful and overtly malicious. This was just another reason to hate her.
All at once, he realized that he was going to be late for work. Then he shrugged the thought aside. On the scale of things going on in his life just at that moment, it wasn’t important.
“Who do you work for?” Tempest asked.
The mercenary stopped grinning. His started to sweat, whether from the pain in his groin or out of the fear, Ty couldn’t tell.
“I can’t tell you,” he said. “He will kill me.”
The Tempest was ruthless. Without hesitation, she gripped and twisted in a way that Ty could feel in his soul. He grimaced and looked away as the intruder let out an agonizing scream.
It was almost enough to make Ty wonder what they were doing. They were torturing the man, making him talk out of fear and pain. Was that really the type of thing a hero would do?
Certainly not in the comics. The heroes there were mostly honorable and true. The type of torture they engaged in seemed to be limited to throwing people off buildings only to catch them before they hit the ground. As far as he could remember, he had never read a storyline where a hero would actively hurt someone else, even if it was the most efficient and effective method to gain the information they needed.
But that was just comic books. This was real.
John’s scream was loud and desperate enough that Ty couldn’t help wonder what was going through the minds of his neighbors. Would they call the police?
Based on Ty’s past experience living in the building, it was more likely that they would just hide in their apartments and not say a word. It wasn’t the best of areas they lived in, and most of the residents were used to keeping their heads down and avoiding trouble.
Then he decided it didn’t matter. They were going to have to call the police themselves at some point.
Finally, the man’s screech faded and he sat there on the couch, puffing and panting. He looked exhausted and wrung out, as if he’d just run a half marathon and was out on his feet.
“I’ll ask one more time,” Tempest said, just as sweetly as before. “But I warn you, I’m growing bored with just causing you pain. I’m thinking of starting in on permanent damage. Does your employer carry insurance? Would it cover getting a cybernetic implant to allow you to continue to pee standing up?”
John Smith was convinced. He breathed deeply, swallowed, and started to speak. “His name is Bane. Bane Fury. Prefers to be called Crusher. You met him in the alley.”
It hadn’t been clear that the intruders were working with the monstrous villain who’d murdered Zach. Now it was. John Smith had confirmed it. And in a way, it was a relief. Ty didn’t know what he would do if he had to face multiple unknown opponents. To have just one simplified matters considerably.
Tempest seemed satisfied with the man’s answer, but she had other questions to ask. “Where did he get his device from?”
John Smith’s answer was a whimper of rage and despair. “How am I supposed to know that?” he wailed.
It wasn’t a good enough answer, and everyone knew it. Even Brad, who up until then had just stood there grimacing in sympathetic agony, muttered under his breath.
“Just tell her,” he said.
There was not the slightest hint of a smile on Tempest’s face. Her eyes were hard and flat. She was determined to get an answer and seemed prepared to do anything she needed to do so. To Ty, she was still perfection personified, but now that perfection had a scary, threatening side to it.
“No!” John squealed in panic as she started to squeeze. “No! I don’t know anything! How could I? He doesn’t tell me anything!”
At the same time, he did everything he could to avoid Tempest’s grip. He literally threw himself sideways so that he was lying on the couch, away from her.
All else being equal, it wouldn’t have been enough. Tempest would have regained her grip within moments and followed through with her threat. But all things were not equal. As Tempest reached for the man, something hit the front door hard enough that it burst open.
Ty, Brad, and even Tempest turned to look.
John Smith started to laugh as if he’d been given some sort of reprieve. “Of course, you could ask him yourself,” he said.
Ty’s heart sank. He found himself incongruously wondering if he’d remembered to bolt the door after Tempest had entered. Her presence, her impossible allure could have distracted him from breathing, so it was very possible that he hadn’t.
Not that it mattered much. Bane, the villain who had murdered Zach, could have effortlessly burst through it either way.
The monstrous man was so large that he filled the door completely and then some. He had to duck and turn sideways to enter, and when he did, he paused for a moment to survey the two mercenaries still on the floor. One of them was starting to twitch like John Smith had done before he woke up.
Crusher Fury was wearing the same black jumpsuit he’d had on before. As he looked slowly around, his expression was dark and dangerous and included a sneer of contempt. He looked first at Brad, then Ty, and then finally Tempest.
“You!” Tempest shouted. The depth of her loathing was clear. Zach had been her friend. The dispassionate, calculating torturer was gone and she glared at the huge man with fury glinting from her eyes.
As for Ty, something about the man filled him with disgust. It was like Tempest had said. Bane’s presence made his skin crawl.
At the same time, Ty wanted to know how the man had come to be there. Had John Smith somehow sent him a message? Had he already been on his way? It didn’t make any sense.
Brad’s response was quite different. He let out a whimper and shrank down against the wall.
“Yes, me! Last time we met, we had a little dance. I think it’s time we finished that!” The monster’s gaze flicked back to Ty for a moment. “And I’ll have both of your devices in the bargain!”
Ty didn’t wait. This man was a murderer, and he was impossibly strong. Once before, Tempest had stepped in when this man threatened to kill him. At the time, Ty had been woozy and uncertain on his feet. He had just clamped the device around his wrist and was feeling the effects of it.
This time, he was fully in control of his faculties. He was strong and fit, and faster than he’d ever been. Without pausing to think, without even looking to see what Tempest might have been doing, Ty lunged toward Brad, took the stun gun from his hands, then crossed the gap to Bane.
The stun gun had proven effective against all three of the more human combatants. It had shown itself powerful enough to render opponents unconscious. But Bane was different. He was eight feet tall and built like the baddest of all bodybuilders. It was like being a being in a superhero movie with one of the characters come to life.
If anything, he looked even bigger and more powerful than he had before.
When Ty turned his makeshift weapon on and jabbed it at Bane’s chest, it had no effect at all. The monster simply snarled at Ty, ripped it out of his grip, then broke it into pieces with his bare hands.
Ty’s first thought was that he would never be able to repair the toaster or the microwave now. His next thought was that he was in serious trouble.
Bane cuffed Ty, a delicate, backhanded blow that was only a fraction of what he had dealt to Zach. Y
et it was powerful enough to send Ty sailing through the air and crashing into the wall opposite Brad.
“Ty!” Tempest yelled.
Stunned and rattled, his ears ringing loudly, Ty shook his head to clear it and tried to stand up. Before he could do so, Tempest let out a battle cry that combined every ounce of rage and loathing and grief within her into a Banshee scream and hurled herself across the room at the monster.
Ty knew full well what sort of force Tempest was capable of bringing to bear. He expected Bane to be blown backward and to disappear into the distance. But he wasn’t. Tempest collided with him with the force of freight train, and the sound of the impact echoed through the tiny apartment like the crack of thunder. For a moment, Ty went completely deaf.
But the monstrous villain didn’t move an inch. It was as if Tempest had hurled herself at a steel bunker, or the side of a mountain, for all the good it did.
The monstrous man laughed as Tempest rebounded. “Got me an upgrade!” he pronounced.
Tempest looked at the man with surprise and confusion. She couldn’t understand how he had withstood her blow. Yet she didn’t give up. She simply hurled herself at him again, and again, and again. But unlike in the alley, her efforts had as little effect as the stun gun.
It was like Bane had leveled up to the point where Tempest couldn’t compete. The monstrous man didn’t even try to respond. He just stood there, accepting her attacks as if to show her how badly she was outmatched. Tempest continued gamely, but she was like a canary dive-bombing a bear. She was unable to make an impression.
Ty couldn’t believe what was happening. The monstrous man was standing in his lounge, John Smith was still laughing on the couch and Brad was cowering against the far wall. Ty desperately looked around for some way to help, but he wasn’t strong enough or fast enough to be of any real use. And the only weapon he had in the place had been as useless as a bag full of feathers.
Except that his stun gun wasn’t the only weapon he had in the place. There were the blasters and batons he’d taken from the mercenaries.
Without further thought, Ty vaulted the counter that separated the lounge from the kitchen and reached for one of the blasters.