He was younger than Jim, not to mention bigger. In the Gunsmith armor, this fight would be over in seconds. But Jim didn’t have that luxury and instead had to rely only on his skills and strength.
The other guy’s fist moved like lightning and before Jim knew what happened, he felt a stinging pain running up the side of his face. Another blow struck below his jaw and his head rocked back. Jim nearly fell off balance but his vision cleared just enough so he could see a big blob heading towards him.
Jim ducked and lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his attacker’s torso and pulling him down with him. Jim was up first and just as his opponent stood, Jim kicked him. The sole of his boot connected with the man’s forehead and he fell right back down, hitting the hard, concrete floor.
Now he had the upper hand. Every time his opponent tried to stand again, Jim would bring him right back down with some well-placed blows. He couldn’t win by strength alone, but he could keep this guy off-balance.
When Jim attempted another kick to take down his enemy, the guy grabbed his leg and pulled hard. Jim fell to the ground and the man was on his feet. He raised his bent arm and came crashing down. Jim grunted and his muscles spasmed at the sudden impact from an elbow slamming into his chest.
Jim rolled onto his front, trying to stand. He was kicked from below and thrown on his back. His foe brought his foot down, but Jim grabbed it in his hands, straining against the man’s leg. He pushed hard on the foot with all his strength and the man stumbled away.
Back on his feet, Jim lunged forward and drove a haymaker into his foe’s nose. He delivered several more blows in succession, and it wasn’t long before his stronger, younger opponent was lying on the ground, bruised and bloodied.
Cheers erupted from the crowd, although Jim could see the fear in the eyes of his fellow combatants. Right now, he’d set the standard of what would be expected from them.
The fights continued on in much the same way. Whenever Jim was up, he dispatched his foe. With each match, his adrenaline kicked up. Fighting with his bare hands, without the benefit of technology, it was a rush he hadn’t felt in some time.
By the end of the night, Jim was the last man standing. Those that could limped slowly from the warehouse until the only ones left in the building were Jim and the large man who organized the entire fight.
“Nice job,” he said, bringing Jim a bottle of water and sitting beside him on the bench. “Name’s Desmond, by the way.”
“Garner,” said Jim, unscrewing the bottle and pouring the water down his throat. He let out a satisfied sigh as he lowered the bottle. “Jared Garner.”
“You’re one tough sonnuva bitch, Garner, I’ll give you that. Thought you were almost out during that first bout,” said Desmond. “So what’s your story?”
Jim lowered his head. “Not a whole lot to say.”
“You said you heard about this from a guy at the VA? You were in Iraq?”
He nodded.
“An’ now you got nowhere to go,” said Desmond with a chuckle. “Teach a man to kill, then once the war’s done, send him packing.”
“What about you?”
“This ain’t about me, it’s about you. And whether or not you can do the job you’re hired to do.”
“So what’s the job? Gotta know what I’m getting into before I sign up.”
“Thought you were desperate?” asked Desmond.
Jim said nothing, taking another gulp of water.
“All you gotta know is it’s similar to what you did tonight. There’s an underground fight circuit an’ we need guys like you, guys who can take a lot of punishment.”
“What’s it pay?”
Desmond grinned. “A lot. Here.” He took out a small cell phone from his jacket pocket and handed it to Jim. “You’ll get a call around six tomorrow night. Be ready.”
“What’s tomorrow?” asked Jim.
“These fights are a little different from what went down here. So we’ve gotta prepare you.”
***
Jim walked up the staircase inside the dilapidated tenement. The walls were cracked and stained and he could hear arguments coming through some of the doors. He stopped in front of one of the doors and fished the keys out of his pocket to unlock it.
The apartment was a studio and other than the cheap rent, had absolutely nothing going for it. Jim cringed as he removed his jacket and then the sweatshirt and t-shirt beneath. He approached the bathroom and turned on the light, examining his body in the mirror.
Several welts had formed on his body from the points where he’d been struck. There were cuts and bruises all over his torso. He took a small towel from the rack and ran water over it, then went about cleaning his wounds, gritting his teeth every time a sting of pain went through his body.
Through the mirror, Jim saw a cloud of darkness that took shape into the form of a man. A familiar voice said, “Looks like you had a rough night.”
Jim looked at his teammate in the mirror. “You should see the other guys.”
Dom leaned against the bathroom’s door frame, dressed in his Wraith uniform. “So what’s the verdict?”
“I’m in. Some big guy named Desmond seems to be running things, but I get the feeling he’s a middleman.” Jim placed the cloth on the edge of the sink and took some antibiotic ointment from the medicine cabinet.
“Need a hand with that?”
Jim shook his head. “I got it.” He gently rubbed some ointment on one of the cuts and took a bandage out to apply. “Tomorrow I’m supposed to get a call. Something about ‘preparing’ me.”
“Think it’s the procedure?”
“Smart money’s on yes,” said Jim.
“You sure about this?” asked Dom. “You’re already lookin’ kinda ragged.”
“Maybe, but what choice do we have? Gotta figure out what these guys are up to and the only way to do that is to go undercover.”
“I can follow you.”
Jim shook his head. “I can handle it myself and we can’t risk exposure. Might’ve been the reason why Blake disappeared.”
“You’re the boss. Guess we just wait and see until what happens tomorrow.”
Jim nodded. “Guess so."
CHAPTER 5
Zenith hovered above Lee, who knelt on the surface of the Icarus in the hangar. A panel was open, with some of the wiring of the hi-tech aircraft exposed. Lee wore a pair of protective goggles over his eyes and held a welding torch in one hand as he worked on the project at hand. When he stopped, he removed the goggles and looked up.
“Think that should do it,” he said.
Zenith looked straight ahead, his eyes humming with blue energy. After a moment, he gave a nod. “I believe so. Icarus systems are all online.”
“So we gonna test this thing out or what?”
“Now would seem like the most opportune moment,” said Zenith, landing on the ground beside the plane’s open hatch.
Lee hopped off the Icarus, the jetpack of his suit activating and lowering him next to his teammate. He folded his arms and looked inside the hatch. “So who’s gonna take her out for the first flight?”
“How about someone who knows how she handles?”
Lee and Zenith turned and saw Erin standing in the open doorway. She approached them and offered a smile in greeting.
“Very well,” said Zenith. “Erin and I will fly the ship and Lee can monitor us from outside.”
Lee gave a shrug. “Works for me.”
Erin and Zenith boarded the Icarus and the hatch closed behind them. They walked down the length of the ship until they reached the cockpit. Erin took her spot in the pilot’s seat and Zenith sat next to her.
She performed the pre-flight checklist rapidly, as if it were second nature. The hangar doors above them opened, revealing the morning sky. Erin powered up the engines and the VTOL thrusters activated, raising the Icarus above the underground base. She glanced out the window and saw Lee hovering alongside the plane, his holographic armor ac
tive.
“Shall we?” asked Zenith.
Erin nodded and switched to rear thrusters. She took hold of the stick and the Icarus shot off into the sky. The Icarus remained at a slow, cruising speed, so Lee’s jetpack could still keep pace with them.
“So what new toys have you added to this thing?” she asked, glancing over at Zenith.
“We’ve managed to reverse-engineer some of the Kotharian technology from J’Karra’s ship and create a similar cloaking field.”
“How’s it work?”
“Watch.”
Zenith entered the necessary commands to activate stealth mode. Although he could do it through his connection to the ship, performing the process manually enabled Erin to learn the procedure. Icarus’ computerized voice said, “Stealth mode active.”
“So what’s different now?” she asked.
“Lee, could you tell us what if anything has happened?”
Lee’s voice came through the ship’s speakers. “Think it’s working, Zen. You guys completely vanished from sight.”
“And the scanner?”
A moment of silence passed while Lee used his Sentinel suit to check for any location. A warning appeared on the windshield, reading “SCAN DETECTED.” Erin looked at Zenith for confirmation on what that meant.
“Icarus is just informing us that someone is attempting to scan for our presence,” said Zenith.
“Scans turn up nothing,” said Lee. “As far as anyone’s concerned, you’re not here.”
“Holy crap,” said Erin. “So we’re completely invisible?”
Zenith gave a nod and Erin laughed.
“That is so cool!”
“Now for the next test,” said Zenith. “Icarus, take the controls.”
Erin blinked as the stick moved in her hands. She released her grip, holding up her arms. The Icarus moved of its own free will, flying through the air without any help from her.
“Are you doing this?” she asked.
Zenith shook his head. “Not this time. We’ve made improvements to the AI, making it capable of flying fairly independently. While it is not as advanced as J’Karra’s ship, it is far better than any existing auto-pilot system.”
“So it’s flying by itself?” asked Erin, blinking. “That’s pretty weird.”
“What, you never heard of Knight Rider?” asked Lee over the speakers.
“What’s Knight Rider?” asked Erin.
“Geez, kids these days.”
Erin scoffed. “I’m only three years younger than you.”
“Yeah, but obviously I’m more cultured.”
Erin rolled her eyes. “Sure, whatever you say.”
“Icarus, return to base,” said Zenith, ignoring the banter between the two teammates.
The Icarus turned in the air, returning back to Atlas. As soon as it approached, the hangar doors slid open and the Icarus switched to VTOL mode, the jets lowering it down until it touched on the surface. Lee flew after, landing near the hatch while the hangar doors closed overhead.
Erin and Zenith disembarked and met with Lee, who was already stripping off his armor components. “All systems go.”
“Indeed, we’ve just made some massive improvements in our capabilities,” said Zenith. “But we aren’t quite finished yet.”
“What’s next?” asked Erin.
“The Kotharian ships also have teleportation capabilities,” said Lee. “That’s the next thing we have to try and crack.”
“With an onboard teleporter, it could allow us to respond to crises in a much more efficient manner,” said Zenith. “In time, the hope is that we might be able to create a system capable of teleporting us anywhere on the planet.”
“So what’s the problem?” asked Erin.
“The problem is that unfortunately at this point, not even the Kotharian technology is capable of such a feat—only short distances,” said Zenith.
“But we might be able to work it out. We’ll have to see,” said Lee. “And then there’s also the matter of space travel. We have no idea exactly where the Kotharians come from, which probably means J’Karra came from pretty far off.”
“Fortunately for us, with the exception of the Exemplar’s recent attack, things have been fairly quiet,” said Zenith. “It’s afforded us more time than usual to work on these projects.”
“And that doesn’t make either of you nervous?” asked Erin.
Zenith tilted his head to the side. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“She’s talking about the whole calm-before-the-storm thing,” said Lee.
“We still don’t know what’s going on with J’Karra and the Kotharians. Some kind of invasion or something and we’re no closer to knowing anything about it,” said Erin.
“As I said before, we are monitoring the situation. In concert with Cerberus and various space agencies,” said Zenith. “Until we know something more, there’s not much we can do.”
“He’s right, so just take it easy for now,” said Lee. “Gives you and Koji a little more time to spend alone together.”
“Wh-what?” asked Erin, stepping back and blinking rapidly. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Your body temperature is rising,” said Zenith. “Is everything all right?”
Erin looked down, blushing. “I-I’ve gotta go…I just remembered I have…a thing.”
She quickly made her exit from the hangar, leaving Zenith tilting his head and watching her walk away in confusion. He turned to look at Lee. “I feel I’ve missed out on something.”
Lee snickered and patted Zenith on the back. “It’s called hormones.”
CHAPTER 6
The call came in at six at night, just as Desmond said it would. When Jim answered, he was told to walk a few blocks from his apartment and wait at the corner across the street from a convenience store. That was where he stood now, the phone Desmond gave him resting in his pocket.
Jim glanced from side to side. He paid close attention to his surroundings, using the skills he’d learned in the service to see if he was being followed. But every sense he had told him he was alone.
A few cars passed by on the street, but the one that caught his attention was a large, black SUV. It pulled up to the curb and Jim peered through the passenger window. Desmond was behind the wheel.
“Get in.”
Jim opened the passenger door and climbed into the car. Desmond pulled away from the curb and drove. Jim looked at his contact but Desmond provided no comment.
“Where are we going?” asked Jim, after a few minutes of silence.
Desmond cast his eyes at Jim, a silent acknowledgment that he’d heard the question, but he gave no response and fixed his eyes on the road.
Jim sighed and settled into the passenger seat. They finally pulled into a parking garage adjacent to an office building. Desmond turned off the car and got out of the vehicle. Jim followed and the two men entered the office building.
A short elevator ride later and they arrived at their destination, with a sign on the door that read BRADSHAW MEDICAL PRACTICE. Desmond entered first and gestured for Jim to sit in one of the chairs in the waiting room while he went to speak with the receptionist. She nodded and Desmond walked through the door to the inner office.
Jim looked through the magazines scattered on the table. Most were pretty out of date and he finally just gave up and leaned back. The receptionist cast a curious glance at him every now and then and whenever he met it, she quickly looked away.
He made her nervous. Jim got the sense that this wasn’t the first time Desmond brought someone like him here.
After about an hour of waiting, the receptionist spoke up. “Mr. Garner? They’re ready for you.”
Jim stood and walked through the door. Desmond stood on the other side and led Jim down the twisting halls until they came to an open door. Jim walked inside and Desmond pointed to the chair surrounded by medical equipment.
“Take off your shirt and have a seat.”
Jim nodded and removed his t-shirt and jacket. He settled into the chair, resting his head against the back. “Maybe when this is all done, the doc could take a look at this mole I’ve got?”
Desmond ignored the quip, just stood in the corner and waited with his arms folded. A few moments of silence passed until finally a man wearing a lab coat entered the room. His hair and eyes were both dark and he was tall, although not as tall as Desmond, and thin.
“Ah, Mr. Garner,” he said as he walked into Jim’s eyesight. “My name is Dr. Bradshaw. I’m here to prepare you for your new position.”
“So how you gonna do that?” asked Jim.
“You’ll receive a series of injections. These injections will increase your speed, strength, and durability by an exponential amount.”
“And this’ll give me an edge over the other fighters?”
Bradshaw chuckled. “Oh no. The other fighters have gone through the same procedure. This will put you on equal footing with them. Desmond, if you please.”
Desmond moved from the corner and fastened thick, leather straps around Jim’s wrists, ankles, and neck, binding him to the chair. Jim tested the bonds and found them to be as durable as they looked.
“There any side effects?” asked Jim.
“Increased aggression, possible heart complications, addiction.” Bradshaw was nonchalant as he ran down the potential hazards, preparing a syringe. “The usual.”
The doctor brought the syringe over and dabbed some disinfectant on Jim’s arm before sticking the needle into the vein. Jim watched as the green liquid inside the syringe was pushed into his body. Bradshaw removed the needle and placed it on a small tray nearby.
“Is that it?” asked Jim.
“That’s it.”
“Didn’t seem so ba—” Jim’s words died in his throat. He opened his mouth to try and speak again, but nothing came out. Bradshaw just watched him with an interested stare.
“Of course, the injection is just the first part of the procedure. There’s still the transformation to be concerned about.”
Vanguard: Seasons 1-3: A Superhero Adventure Page 67