Vanguard: Seasons 1-3: A Superhero Adventure

by Percival Constantine

  “But unfortunately for Smith and the rest of the corporate fat-cats who think like he did, the fates have stepped in and given the people the means to fight back against oppression. No longer must we sit by and simply allow these corporations to bend us over the table, while the politicians and courts who are supposed to protect us instead devote more and more time to granting these oligarchs ever-expanding power to wield over the masses.

  “No, now we can fight back.”

  Zephyr stood and held out her arms. The desk rattled and then slowly rose from the ground, moving shakily, before dropping down. She then hovered as well, and her coat moved in such a way that one would think she had an industrial fan blowing beneath her.

  “Mark Smith was the first, but he will not be the last. The police are wasting time trying to discover who fired the bullet that killed Smith when in reality, there was no bullet involved. Not a conventional one, that is.”

  She reached in her coat and pulled out an apple. Zephyr placed it on the desk and then stepped back. The mysterious woman held out her hand, palm facing upwards, and fixed her gaze on it. Her hand vibrated slightly and then a sharp whistle was heard. The apple exploded.

  “When air is compressed enough, it can have the force of a bullet,” she said, stepping up to the camera. “The era of the corporations is coming to a close. Now is the dawn of the era of the specials. The people now have the power, and we will use it to strike back at those who have wronged us. The silent majority shall be silent no more.

  “This is Zephyr signing off with a final message for the evening—the revolution will be televised.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Thorne, in formal dress uniform, was led into the Oval Office by the President’s personal assistant. Once Thorne stepped inside, she excused herself and closed the door behind her. President Curtis Hayworth already sat in one of the chairs in the seating area in front of the Resolute Desk. Seated on a couch was Secretary of Defense Joseph Ramsey. With the assistant gone, Ramsey now saw fit to lift his briefcase to his lap. He opened it and took out folders and documents, laying them on the coffee table.

  “Good to see you again, Colonel,” said Hayworth, rising. He and Thorne shook hands and he motioned for the Colonel to sit across from the Secretary. “I don’t think it’s much of a stretch for you to guess why you’ve been summoned here.”

  “I was told it had something to do with consulting on a UN resolution?”

  “That’s part of it,” said Ramsey. “Russia is pushing hard for the resolution banning the use of specials by government agencies.”

  “Of course they are,” said Thorne.

  “They’ve been asking questions.” Ramsey looked up from his papers, his glasses resting on the tip of his nose as his steel-grey eyes fixed on Thorne. “A lot of questions.”

  Thorne sighed. “It behooves me to remind you that it was you who wanted my team to investigate the Iskander murders.”

  “With subtlety,” said Ramsey. “What part of engaging in a dogfight with MiGs is subtle?”

  “They did the best they could—that anyone could—given what they were tasked with.”

  “Russia is not the problem.” Hayworth’s interjection brought a brief ceasefire between Thorne and Ramsey’s argument. “Or perhaps I should say not the only problem.”

  “The video. I figured as much.”

  “This Zephyr woman indicated she’s the one responsible for the assassination of Mark Smith,” said Hayworth.

  “And you’ve ruled out computer effects used in the movie?” asked Thorne.

  “Doesn’t really matter, because she knew there wasn’t a bullet. That information hasn’t been made public. Or should probably say hadn’t now.” Ramsey gave a sigh and adjusted his glasses. “I hate YouTube.”

  “This is exactly what everyone feared, Colonel,” said Hayworth. “Now we’re not talking about some nut with an inferiority complex like Callum King, but a radical terrorist, able to cause widespread destruction without needing any real resources to speak of.”

  “What’s more is it’s spreading,” said Ramsey. “There are hundreds of pro-Zephyr websites popping up. She’s quickly becoming a folk hero. Oliver Stone’s already offered to turn her story into a movie.”

  “She said Smith was the first, but he won’t be the last,” said Hayworth. “People are going to die, Leonard. You and your team are probably the only ones who can stop her.”

  “I agree, this is something that we should address,” said Thorne. “But I just want to remind you that one of the cornerstones of the Vanguard project is autonomy. You told us to investigate the incident in Russia, and now this. A paranoid guy might suggest you’re trying to exert some control over my team.”

  Ramsey took off his glasses and stood, pointing them at the Colonel. “Now hold on just one second. Where do you think that fancy base of yours comes from? Or that plane? Military funding, Thorne.”

  Despite the Secretary’s increased anger, Thorne maintained his cool and leaned back into the couch. “And it was funding provided with the understanding that we’d have freedom to operate independently.”

  “Joe, that’s enough.” Hayworth held out his hand, palm towards the floor, and waved it down. Ramsey took the signal and returned to his seat.

  “Mr. President.” Thorne now turned his attention completely to the Commander-in-Chief. “You yourself told me that you needed to maintain plausible deniability. This treaty the UN is considering, you’d be in direct violation of it. And I should also add that there are other open cases we still need to consider.”

  Ramsey gave an exasperated snigger. “Are you still on about that? I told you already, we have zero intelligence on any organization called the Red Fist, in any language. And there’s certainly nothing about some international warlord.”

  “I’m simply letting you know what my concerns are,” said Thorne. “More than that, I’m informing you of what my team’s concerns will be. These men and women are putting their lives on the line. Yes, there’s a special killing people and we should deal with it. But I do wonder if it has anything to do with the targets.”

  The President crossed his legs and placed his elbow on the armrest of his chair. He cleared his throat—it was a tic that Thorne noticed Hayworth used when he was uncomfortable. “Are you accusing me of something, Colonel?”

  “Mark Smith was a campaign contributor, wasn’t he?” asked Thorne. “More than that, he was a friend.”

  Hayworth’s face darkened. “The ice you’re treading on is very thin, Leonard.”

  “I’m just presenting facts.” Thorne rose from the couch. “As I said before, I agree that this does fall within Vanguard’s purview. But I also want you to realize how something like this could be interpreted.” He looked down at Ramsey and gestured to the papers. “Am I correct in assuming all this information is for me?”

  Ramsey huffed and leaned back, crossing his arms. Thorne gave a shrug and gathered the documents into the folder. He stood before giving a salute to Hayworth. “By your leave, Mr. President.”

  “You’re dismissed, Colonel.”

  Once Thorne left the Oval Office, Ramsey addressed the President. “I warned you about this before, sir. Thorne looks like he could pose a problem for us down the line.”

  Hayworth shook his head. “You’re paranoid, Joe. Thorne may ask a lot of questions, but he has reason to. We’ve put him in a very delicate situation. He’s in charge of a unit composed mostly of civilians, civilians that are extremely powerful and could decide to work against our interests if not for his careful command.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” said Ramsey. “We should have had final approval over his recruits, undertaken the proper psychological tests to ensure they would be loyal.”

  Hayworth stood, circling around behind his desk. He stared out the large French doors, gazing into the Rose Garden. “These specials pose a very unique situation for us, my friend. No President—no leader period—has ever faced anything remotely lik
e this. We have to tread lightly.”

  Ramsey settled into the corner of the couch, draping his arms along its surface. “And what do we do about Russia? It’s not only the resolution they’re pushing through. Vorobiev isn’t convinced that Vanguard was an independent team.”

  “Kirill may be paranoid, but he’s not stupid,” said Hayworth, turning from the window and returning to his desk. “He’s got enough dirty secrets to know that we’ve got some of our own. He’s pushing for the resolution because he hopes he can use it as an impetus to launch a UN investigation into Vanguard.”

  “And what do you think?”

  Hayworth rested his chin in his hand. “I think we have to consider every possibility. I’ll talk to Janet, tell her to communicate the White House’s position on this issue.” Hayworth referred to Janet Skinner, the Secretary of State. “We say that although we recognize the threat of these specials, we also have to consider that they are first and foremost human beings, and their right to privacy must remain respected.”

  Ramsey grinned. “Very good, sir. Liberals will see it as a human rights issue, and conservatives will see it as a restraint of government overreach. Maybe we could even try reframing it in the context of concealed weapons.”

  “Let’s not push our luck,” said Hayworth. “We want this to seem like a completely apolitical issue.”

  ***

  Thorne was returned to Atlas via a helicopter escort. They touched down on the tarmac, but never stopped the blades, pausing just long enough for Thorne to hop out and bid the pilot a goodbye wave. His hand kept a firm grip on his cap as the chopper rose up before departing into the distance. He entered the small above-ground structure and stood in front of the wall, staring at it.

  “Colonel Leonard Thorne.”

  The wall lowered, revealing a small elevator. Thorne stepped inside and the doors closed, taking him down into the structure. The first sub-level was the monitor room, then the infirmary on the next and the third level housed Thorne’s office. He stepped out of the elevator when the door opened and found two men seated in front of his desk. One was older, with a gray beard and glasses. Dr. Howard McCabe, formerly of the Human Genome Project, who served as the scientific advisor for Vanguard. The second man was much younger, with short blond hair. Jim Ellis, formerly of the CIA until he was reassigned to Vanguard. He was the only human member of the team and also acted as their field commander.

  “Gentlemen, thanks for waiting.” Thorne stepped out from the elevator and sat behind his desk, setting the folder he’d received from Ramsey on its wooden surface.

  “When you called, it seemed somewhat urgent,” said Jim. “What did the President have to say? Was it about that video?”

  Thorne nodded. “This Zephyr character apparently knew details about the murder that weren’t revealed to the public. Seems she is indeed the assassin, as well as a special. President Hayworth requests we investigate.”

  “Requests or orders?” asked McCabe.

  Thorne rested his hands on the desk and interlocked his fingers. “What do you think?”

  McCabe huffed. “Orders.”

  “What do you think the reaction will be?” asked Thorne.

  “Anita will likely be okay with it. Maybe Koji as well,” said Jim. “Erin’s on the fence. But neither Zenith nor Vaughn will like it.”

  “There is the question about how independent this supposedly independent unit truly is,” said McCabe.

  “I’m aware, and I share those concerns.” Thorne sighed. “On the other hand, this is a case of a special going rogue. And that’s why we exist in the first place.”

  “Don’t tell them it’s an order from the White House.”

  The expression McCabe gave Jim was almost hostile, with a fair amount of contempt. But Thorne seemed more intrigued. “Can you run that by me again?”

  “It’s the kind of job we’d have to do anyway. And it’s not like this is the first time you’ve had to go to the White House for a briefing,” said Jim. “So if it will shut up some of the more vocal elements of the crew, why not? There’s nothing about this case that says they need to know it came from the White House.”

  “You mean besides the ethical questions of openly lying to our colleagues?” asked McCabe.

  “Look, if there’s one thing I learned from our job in Russia, it’s that it’s better to keep politics as separate as possible. I’m pretty sure that even if the President didn’t inform him, the Colonel would still consider this a mission worth taking on. Or am I wrong about that?”

  Thorne shook his head. “No, you’re right. Had the President said nothing, I would have still thought this was worth our attention. Maybe some secrecy is in our best interests.”

  Even while addressing Jim, McCabe kept his eyes fixed on Thorne. “Could you excuse us, Lt. Ellis?”

  Jim looked to Thorne for confirmation and the Colonel nodded. The younger soldier stood. “I’ll be in the monitor room once you’ve made your decision.”

  McCabe waited for the sound of the elevator door closing. “This is a slippery slope, Leo. We’re already dealing in secrecy. If you start having secrets within secrets, you’re going to find life quickly becomes very difficult.”

  Thorne snickered. “I think you’re being a bit melodramatic.”

  McCabe evidently didn’t find the humor, as demonstrated with his cold retort of, “Am I?”

  Thorne’s smile faded. “Maybe, maybe not. But you do agree that this is something we should investigate?”

  McCabe sighed. “That’s not the point…”

  “I understand the timing is suspect,” said Thorne. “Yes, Hayworth probably wouldn’t have noticed had this not happened to a CEO. But we still have a human killed by a special. Imagine if there are other like-minded specials who now feel they’re above the law. We need to show them that there are other specials who will stand up to them.”

  “I suppose you have a point.” McCabe sighed and rose from his chair. “I’ll back your play this time, but I want you to understand that you’re betraying the trust of these people.”

  “Howard…”

  McCabe gave him a final questioning look. “What?”

  “Do you realize this is the first conversation we had where you addressed me by my first name?”

  “It’s like you once said, Leo—we’re in this together,” said McCabe. “Those are words I hope you take to heart.”

  ***

  By the time Thorne and McCabe entered the recreation room, they found the entire Vanguard team gathered around the large television screen, seated on the couches and watching the news network replay Zephyr’s web video as well as the assassination of Mark Smith.

  “Jesus, just look at that,” said Dominic Vaughn, shaking his head from the love-seat he sat in alone. His chin-length black hair bobbed slightly with his movements. “Punishing a guy just because he managed to run a successful business.”

  “Seriously?” Koji Asano was mostly laid back, but that statement seemed to set him on edge. He sat on a couch beside Jim and leaned towards Dominic. “You got any idea what it’s like to live on minimum wage, rich boy?”

  “Speaking from a mathematical standpoint, a full-time worker earning minimum wage would be above the federal poverty line,” said the robotic Zenith, who watched standing from behind the couch.

  “Doesn’t quite work that way,” said Anita. She sat on a couch beside the team’s youngest member, Erin Hastings. “Especially if you’ve got a family to support.”

  “Yeah, but…killing him?” asked Erin. “How’s that going to help anything?”

  “Well, for one, might make some employers rethink their strategy,” muttered Koji.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Thorne announced his presence, linking his hands behind his back. All eyes instantly fell on him, although McCabe remained slightly behind him, arms crossed.

  “We gonna go after this bitch?” asked Dom.

  “Is that what you want?” asked Thorne.r />
  “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?” asked Dom. “Go after these specials that start going crazy? That’s what we did in Chicago, right?”

  “What’s so crazy? The guy was oppressing his workers,” said Koji. “Look, maybe he didn’t deserve to be killed, but still.”

  “I don’t care much for Smith’s business practices myself, and I haven’t eaten at a Big Belly in about twenty years.” Thorne walked in front of the television, clicking the “OFF” button on its underside before turning to his team. “But murder is murder, regardless of the victim. And the perpetrator in this case is a special.”

  “You want us to go after her,” said Jim, while giving Thorne a knowing look.

  “I’d say this qualifies as our responsibility. We can’t have specials thinking they’re above the law. Any objections?”

  Dom shook his head. “Think I’ve already made it clear that I’m in.”

  “Like you said, may not agree with him, but it’s still murder,” said Anita.

  Erin jerked her thumb in Anita’s direction. “What she said.”

  “The logic is sound. We have a duty to fulfill,” said Zenith.

  All eyes now fell on Koji. He groaned. “Look, the guy’s a scumbag. But…yeah, we can’t let a killer get away with it.”

  “Good, then it’s settled,” said Thorne. “Zenith, I want you to pull up the records of the crime. The investigation, coroner’s report, everything. We know from the video that she seems to be able to control air, but let’s see if we can’t get some specifics from those documents.”

  “Understood,” said Zenith.

  “While Zenith is compiling that information, we might need the rest of you to help with some research,” said Thorne. “See what you can find out about this Zephyr. Has she been active before, or what targets might she be likely to attack next?”

  “In the video, Zephyr said the revolution will be televised. Suggests she’s probably interested in targets that are embroiled in public scandals,” said Jim. “We can start compiling a list of potentials based on that.”