“Somehow I doubt that,” said Callus. “Maybe your initial attacks as Zephyr could be attributed to an overzealous streak of activism. But then you escaped federal custody and joined a terrorist organization responsible for the death of the President of the United States. No lawyer’s gonna take that case, regardless of how much money your rich daddy coughs up. And of course, that’s operating under the assumption you even have rights any more.”
“I know my rights,” said Chloe.
“You’re an intelligent young woman. No doubt well-versed on what the government can and can’t do in regards to terrorists.” Callus stepped closer, bringing his face within inches of hers and then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “As far as anyone outside this cell is concerned, Chloe Grant doesn’t exist. Your fate belongs to me.”
Callus slapped her hard across the face and Chloe grunted. He stood upright and folded his hands behind his back.
“We apprehended a number of the Red Fist’s numbers, including your fellow specials, Nina Murillo and Clarence Black. But you and I both know there were others working for the Khagan.”
Chloe looked up and spat, the spittle landing on Callus’ jacket. He sighed and took a handkerchief from his breast pocket to wipe his coat. He back-handed her so hard that she felt like her head might snap off her neck.
“Maybe I’m being too vague. There are two men we’re especially interested in locating. One is a Russian, name of Erik Azarov. And the other is an American, thin hair, mustache. Calls himself the Analyst.” Callus grabbed her chin and turned her head so he could look into her eyes. She struggled in his grip. “Your powers aren’t much use without your arms. You’re at my mercy, so I suggest you cooperate with me.”
“And if I don’t?” asked Chloe.
“Then what happens next will make you nostalgic for those little love-taps I gave you.”
A series of knocks drew Callus’ attention. He glanced over his shoulder to the door before turning his head back to Chloe, his eyes narrowed. “We’ll continue this later. For your sake, I hope you’ll be more talkative.”
Callus approached the door and banged his palm a few times in rhythm on the surface. The guards opened the door and Callus stepped out, allowing them to close it again behind him. Standing in the corridor was Joseph Ramsey.
“Mr. Secretary.” Callus crossed his arms over his chest. “I assume there’s a reason you’re interrupting my interrogation of a dangerous prisoner?”
Ramsey eyed the two guards as he addressed the General. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“As you wish,” said Callus, leading Ramsey away from the cell and down the corridors. “If you’re here, I hope it’s because you’ve got some good news for me.”
“I’m afraid it’s the opposite,” said Ramsey. “Lawson is pushing to appoint Thorne as the Director.”
Callus stopped and Ramsey followed his lead. The two men faced each other, with Callus standing a full foot over the Secretary. “We both know what a disaster that’d be. The Red Fist destroyed the White House with the help of specials—specials that Thorne’s team was supposed to be handling. He’s a modern-day Chamberlain, he’d bend over backwards to appease these freaks.”
Ramsey nodded. “I couldn’t agree more, General. I’ve told the President that you’re the best choice for the position, but he’s convinced that Thorne is the man who truly understands how to deal with the specials. It’s unfortunately out of my hands. I’m trying to find a way around it, but…”
Callus sighed and placed his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. After a moment, he looked into Ramsey’s face. “I think I might have a solution. Follow me.”
They moved down a few more corridors and down a flight of stairs, coming to another cell with guards stationed out front. Callus had them open the door for them and inside the cell was a stasis tube filled with liquid. Inside the liquid was a man floating naked, a breathing apparatus around his mouth and nose and monitors nearby monitored his temperature.
“Clarence Black, one of the specials who was working with the Red Fist,” said Callus. “Called himself Pyre.”
Ramsey knew all-too well. It was because of him that the Analyst was able to take control of Pyre, manipulating the special into working for the Red Fist. Ramsey was the one who provided the Red Fist with its superhuman agents after they were apprehended by Vanguard.
“What is this?” asked Ramsey, examining the glass tube and the liquid inside.
“Flame-retardant chemicals, keeps him from using his powers,” said Callus. “But we keep him sedated just to be on the safe side.”
“I take it you have a plan in mind?” asked Ramsey.
Callus nodded. “If Thorne is out of the picture, then Lawson has no further reason to object to your recommendation. And what better way get rid of him than by the hand of one of many specials he failed to properly contain?”
“I thought you hated the specials?”
“I do, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have their uses.” Callus stared at Pyre. “Nuclear weapons are a threat to our security, but they also helped us end World War II. These specials are no different. Every weapon just needs someone who knows how to use it properly.”
CHAPTER 5
Lee, McCabe, and Zenith looked down at the metal body that lay on the gurney between them in McCabe’s laboratory. The geneticist was the one to ask the question that the young special didn’t want to answer.
“You think this will work?”
Lee scratched the back of his neck. “Hope, yes. But that’s about all I can guarantee. Without the backing of the government, all I could do was cobble together this from the remains of Zenith’s old body. Not even sure if it’ll function right.”
“So long as I can transfer my consciousness from Lucent’s body, then it will be a success,” said Zenith.
Lee and McCabe both exchanged glances and Zenith caught notice of them. “What is it?”
“It’s just…” Lee sighed.
“Please, tell me,” said Zenith.
“If you’re able to successfully…evacuate Lucent’s body, that would put his consciousness in control once more,” said McCabe.
“Yes, that’s the theory,” said Zenith.
“We’re talking about a lunatic,” said McCabe. “A man who would have killed countless of innocents—who almost killed you. That much power in the hands of someone so disturbed…”
Zenith looked down at the metal body and could see the reflection of Lucent’s face in the gleaming chest. “Yes, I see your point.”
“You could do a lot of good with those powers of his,” said Lee. “Every day you get better and better with them.”
Zenith held up his arm and stared at his hand, his skin becoming a near-translucent blue and an azure aura surrounding his fist. “And how is what I’m doing to Lucent any different from what the Analyst did to you, Lee?”
Lee looked up, his brows knitting together. “Come again?”
Zenith lowered his arm and smiled at Lee. “I’m possessing a man’s body without his permission. I’m using his powers in ways that suit my purposes. Is that not what the Analyst did when he took control of your mind and forced you to work for the Khagan? Forced you to construct the teleforce weapon that destroyed the White House?”
Lee stood upright and circled around the gurney, staring right into Zenith’s eyes. “Who the hell do you think you are? That man made me do things I never would’ve done before! Twisted me into something I wasn’t! I was a prisoner in my own—”
Lee blinked and stopped. He turned his back on Zenith and moved over to one of the tables, leaning over it. McCabe came up alongside him, patting him on the back.
“You okay, son?”
Lee shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “He’s right, isn’t he? If we don’t get him into another body, then what makes us any better than the Analyst?”
Zenith’s power signature vanished, his skin returning to normal. “I understand your position.
Lucent is a dangerous man and we will monitor him closely. But he is still a man and he deserves the right to make his own decisions.”
Lee nodded and returned to the gurney. “Let’s do this thing then.”
Zenith gave a nod and placed his hand over the android’s power source. He closed his eyes and his body hummed with an azure glow. Zenith concentrated on directing his energy into the power core, trying to become one with it, merge with it.
The LED lights that served as eyes on the otherwise-emotionless face lit up brightly. But the body didn’t move other than that. Lee moved over to one of the computers and saw that the suit was holding power, but it was doing nothing with that power.
Zenith stopped and removed his hand from the power source with a sigh and a shake of his head. McCabe shut his eyes. “No good?”
“No,” said Zenith. “However Lucent was able to absorb my consciousness, I can’t seem to find a way to upload myself to another medium.”
“Not giving up on you,” said Lee. “You helped me fight back against the Khagan and I repay my debts.”
“We may not have much of a choice,” said McCabe, looking around the lab. “Soon, all of this will be gone.”
“What’re you gonna do?” asked Lee.
“Return to my work with the Human Genome Project, I suppose,” said McCabe. “Whatever created the specials altered all of mankind. There are a lot of questions still to be answered.”
“And you?” Lee turned to Zenith.
“Perhaps I can return to doing the work I was before with the government, or maybe Colonel Thorne will have a place for me at this new organization. Assuming of course that I can separate myself from this body,” said Zenith. “And you?”
Lee shook his head. “I’ve got no idea. After we took down the Khagan, I thought this could be the beginning of something new. Joining up with Vanguard, becoming an actual honest-to-god superhero. But now…MIT just doesn’t hold the same appeal, y’know?”
***
Erin knocked on the open door to Anita Jordan’s room. “Mind if I come in?”
“Hey,” said Anita, looking up from the suitcase spread on the bed. “Yeah, of course.”
Erin moved inside, stepping over two small suitcases that were already packed and stacked against the wall. She came closer to Anita, who struggled to hold the top of the last suitcase closed.
“You’re just in time, can you close this while I hold it?” she asked.
Erin nodded and pulled the zipper to seal the bag, Anita’s hands holding the top to keep the contents from popping out. “Done.”
“Thanks.” Anita picked the suitcase up with one hand. The weight was nothing to someone with her strength and she set it down gently beside the other two.
“You’re already packed up?” asked Erin.
“Tell you the truth, I never really completely unpacked to begin with,” said Anita. “I thought after we completed the initial six months, I’d move out of the Atlas.”
“And your head?”
“It’s better now. Ever since the Analyst’s control was broken I haven’t had any headaches.” Anita sat down on the bed and patted the spot beside her for Erin. “But something tells me you didn’t come here to ask about me.”
Erin gave a nod and sat beside her friend. She looked up at her with large, yellow eyes. “Are we really gonna let them shut us down?”
Anita held a pensive expression. “It’s not about letting them do anything. This isn’t really our choice to make.”
Erin’s fists tightened. “So we’re just going to give up?” Her words spilled from her mouth faster than usual. “After everything we’ve been through, we’re going to roll over?”
“Honey, we knew the deal when we signed up.” Anita tried to comfort her young friend by patting her knee, but Erin stood abruptly.
“Knew the deal, right. We were doing something great here, now we’re just gonna throw it all away?” Erin pointed at Anita. “You’re supposed to be all about helping people!”
“And I still will.” Anita stood and put her hands on Erin’s shoulders. “Just not as Paragon. I’ll go back to being Anita Jordan. And you, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
Erin scoffed, looking away from Anita’s gaze. “You think I wanna go back to high school after all this? I came here because I wanted to learn how to control these powers.”
“And you have.”
“But I’ve got so much more to learn!” Erin snapped her gaze back to Anita. “You remember what I did at Tora Bora? I changed my body’s composition so that Pyre’s flames couldn’t hurt me. It was just a reflex, but it shows that there’s a whole lot more I’m capable of than I thought. And I can’t do it alone. I can’t just go back to living some stupid, suburban life after this.”
Erin pulled away, turning her back on Anita and folding her arms across her chest. “And what’s worse is that I’m the only one who cares that this team is being shut down.”
Anita shook her head. “That’s bull.”
Erin groaned. “Oh come on!” She turned around. “You were just saying how you never planned on staying here! You’re probably psyched to put this freak show behind you!”
“Hey!” Anita snapped. “Don’t twist my words, okay? I just meant I wanted my own place. And I’m sorry, but I went through a lot since these powers manifested. So yeah, maybe I’m ready to relax a little bit and try living a normal life. Is there something wrong with that?”
Erin lowered her gaze. “No…”
“I do like what we’ve done since coming here, I like everyone I’ve gotten to meet.”
A tiny smirk creeped on Erin’s face. “Even Dom?”
Anita snickered. “Yeah, when he’s not being a dick.”
“Which is only like two per cent of the time.”
Anita started laughing and the sound caused Erin’s smirk to spread into a laugh of her own. After the laughter subsided, Erin’s face became slightly more serious. “Do you think you’ll ever be Paragon again?”
“It’s not really our choice.”
“Being here isn’t our choice, I’m talking about solo,” said Erin. “Doing what the Exemplar did. Only…y’know, without the breakdown.”
“Well…” Anita rubbed her lips, looking away. “I don’t know. Part of me wants to say no, but if I saw a situation that I could help with…”
“Yeah, kinda where I’m standing, too.” Erin sighed. “You really think we can go back to being normal after all of this?”
Anita shrugged. “Only one way to be sure.”
***
Koji swam laps in the olympic-sized swimming pool located on the lower levels of the Atlas. His Sharkskin form enabled him to breathe underwater, so he had no need to ever break the surface of the water, moving like a large gray blur across the pool.
When Koji finally did rise above the surface, he saw Dom sitting off to the side on one of the metal benches. Koji pulled himself from the pool, his form changing back to his human appearance as he moved.
“Feel like I should be humming the Jaws theme,” said Dom, taking a sip from a bottle of beer.
“You’re a dick,” said Koji, picking up a towel and drying himself off as he sat beside Dom.
“What’d I do this time?”
Koji patted his face with the towel. “Only brought a beer for yourself. Bad form, dude.”
Dom chuckled. “Guess I was just sort of wandering around the old place.”
“How’s this whole leaving thing work for you?” asked Koji. “With your pardon agreement and all.”
“Wondered about that myself, but I talked to Thorne already,” said Dom. “He said Lawson’s gonna honor the agreement and give me my pardon.”
“Even though it hasn’t been a full year?”
Dom nodded. “Seems like.”
“Nice.” Koji draped the towel over his neck. “Bet you’re glad to be outta here.”
“Yeah…” Dom took a swig from the bottle. “Y’know, I talk a lot of
crap, but I actually liked this gig.”
“Kinda figured,” said Koji. “What’re you gonna do after this?”
Dom shrugged. “Hell if I know. Part of me thinks I might go back to thieving if I get bored.”
Koji wrinkled his brow. “But you just got a pardon?”
Dom grinned. “Exactly.”
Koji snickered. “Dominic Vaughn, always the badass.”
“Got a rep to maintain.” Dom sipped his beer. “What about you?”
“Guess I’ll go back to working as a surfing instructor,” said Koji. “It was a pretty cool job, get to spend all day out in the water. Plus, it’ll be nice to be in the ocean instead of settling for a pool.”
“Think that’ll be enough for you?”
Koji shook his head. “Hell no. But what else we gonna do?”
Dom nodded and passed the bottle. Koji took a sip from it and the two remained in silence.
***
Thorne removed a Cohiba from the wooden box and brought it up to his nose. He inhaled the scent of the tobacco leaves and looked down at the cigar, a smile forming across his face. When a knock came at the door, he set the cigar down and said, “It’s open.”
Jim entered Thorne’s office, looking around at the boxes the Colonel had begun packing. “Bet you’re gonna miss having an office so far from the top brass.”
“Yeah, gonna be rough going back to oversight committees. The nice thing about being an off-the-books operation—no one wants to know what you’re up to.” Thorne pointed to the liquor cabinet. “I haven’t packed that up yet, you want a drink?”
“Sure, bourbon would be great.”
Thorne walked to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. He poured some in two glasses and carried one over to Jim.
“You decided what you’re gonna do?” asked Thorne.
Jim sniffed the bourbon and stared into the golden liquid. “Not quite. The fact that this organization isn’t using specials makes me a little suspicious about what exactly they want us to do.”
Thorne sighed and sat behind his desk. “Yeah, you and me both. I’m worried they see specials as an enemy that needs to be contained. Or worse, eliminated.”
Vanguard: Seasons 1-3: A Superhero Adventure Page 34