“Get off!” shouted Jim, pulling away.
Anita looked surprised by his reaction. And hurt. “Jim, we’re your friends. Your teammates. We only want to help you.”
“Help me?” asked Jim. “You’re going to get me killed! I’m on a mission, okay?”
“Mission, huh? So how come you haven’t checked in? It’s been a week,” said Dom.
“Undercover, you idiot,” said Jim. “Sometimes, that means no contact.”
“No, there’s more than that going on here,” said Anita. “I can feel the emotions radiating off you. You’re scared and angry. And…hungry?”
“You don’t know anything,” said Jim.
“I can feel it, I know something’s not right here,” said Anita.
“Oh yeah? How can you feel it?” asked Jim. “Christ, Anita. You’ve been psychic for what, a few months? Now you’re some kind of expert? So tell me, Miss Cleo. If you’re such an expert on reading people’s minds, how come you can’t tell us what J’Karra is up to? How come you can’t find out where the Analyst is hiding out?”
Dom stepped between them, locking his gaze with Jim. “You’re out of line, boy scout.”
“And then there’s you.” Jim sneered. “Always trying to be the bad boy. Acting like a child. We get it, Vaughn. You don’t wanna be here. But there’s no more threat of imprisonment hanging over your head. So tell me, why are you still hanging around? Do you just get a kick out of annoying us?”
Dom’s fist connected with Jim’s chin. The blow staggered Jim a little but it seemed to do far more damage to Dom, who shook his hand while his face was contorted in pain.
“See? That’s what you’ve got to look forward to!” Jim turned his back on them and crouched. “Now stay out of my way!”
“Jim, wait!” Anita moved after him, but she froze in place when she saw Jim’s body mass grow. He jumped from there, powerful leg muscles sending him flying through the early morning sky.
“Wanna go after him?” asked Dom, examining his hand.
Anita sighed. “No, we should report back. Find out what exactly it is we’re up against."
CHAPTER 9
Anita and Dom entered the monitor room after returning from their encounter with Jim. They found the rest of the team all huddled around monitors, reviewing the information they’d uncovered. Thorne looked up at the pair once they entered.
“How’d it go?”
“Bad.” Anita approached the table, noticing the empty seat between Erin and Koji. But she said nothing, just occupied the seat and looked across the table at Thorne.
“The drug is real and Ellis is hooked,” said Dom, still feeling the pain in his hand.
“We tried talking to him, but it’s like he was a different person,” said Anita.
“You should’ve seen him in that fight,” said Dom, sitting beside Thorne.
“He was part of the fight?” asked Thorne.
“More like he was the main attraction,” said Dom. “Pretty big crowd, too. All of them going nuts, cheering him on. Both him and his opponent, they kept growing bigger as the fight dragged on.”
“It was surreal,” said Anita. “Seeing him like that.”
“What was it like?” asked Erin.
“Like watching a rabid dog,” said Dom.
“It must be the effects of the drug,” said Zenith. “Not only does it trigger the special gene, but it alters mood as well. Perhaps by boosting adrenaline.”
“Why wouldn’t he check in with us?” asked Koji.
“Agent Blake also stopped reporting in,” said Zenith. “At first, we assumed it was because his cover was blown. And that may indeed be the cause of his eventual death. But examination of the body shows he died long after he stopped submitting reports. Now if we compare that to Jim, I believe we see a pattern emerging.”
“Both went dark and we know Jim’s still alive, still fighting,” said Thorne.
“He’s addicted,” said Koji.
“You don’t know that,” said Erin.
Koji glanced in her direction. “I think I do.” He looked around the rest of the table. “I’ve seen what this kind of stuff can do to people. Maybe not this exact thing, but drugs in general. I’ve watched people throw away their entire lives, betray the people they love most, all just to get the next hit.”
Dom scoffed. “How’s a kid like you know about this kind of stuff?”
Koji looked down at the table, avoiding the questioning gazes.
“Not the point,” said Lee, taking the temperature of the room. “What’s important is Jim is in trouble. Maybe even bigger trouble than any of us have realized. We’ve been doing some digging and I think there are a lot of connections here. We think Callus and Proximo Labs worked together to create this drug as a way to create super soldiers. But even worse than that is the purpose. We looked into the places where these calls have been put out online, usually forums for veterans. Tracking those accounts, it looks like they’re connected with some other accounts.”
“The activity we discovered suggests that the people searching for test subjects are affiliated with the Red Fist,” said Zenith. “Or rather, what remains of them.”
“It makes a kind of sense,” said Thorne. “Both Azarov and Proximo had dealings with the Khagan and his goal was to become a special himself.”
“I think it’s worse,” said Anita. “That fight we saw, there were more than a few people in there. This goes beyond testing. They’re recruiting.”
“Mind-controlled specials are a risk, especially after what happened with me,” said Lee. “They want specials who also believe in their cause.”
“And the best way to get that is to recruit regular people with the experience they need, then give them their powers,” said Thorne. “They become even more indebted to the organization.”
“We have to get Jim out of there,” said Erin, standing from her seat.
“She’s right, said Dom. “Before things get even more out of hand."
***
The next morning, Bradshaw and Desmond stood in a room, replaying footage of the fight between Jim and his opponent on a large monitor above a desk. A third figure stood beside them in the room, a young woman with her blond hair tied into a bun and glasses perched on her face.
“As you can see, this man is an ideal candidate,” said Bradshaw. “Garner has won every single fight since taking the drug.”
“How are the side effects?” asked the woman.
“They’re still present, I’m afraid,” said Bradshaw. “Desmond remains our most successful test subject, exhibiting almost none of the issues we’ve come across. But that being said, Garner’s adjusted remarkably better than all others. I think he’s a prime candidate to move into the recruitment stage. What do you think, Dr. Rowe?”
Miriam Rowe stepped closer to the screen and adjusted her glasses as she focused in on the man Bradshaw knew as Jared Garner. “Do you have his military records?”
“Yes, of course.” Bradshaw reached for the desk and picked up the tablet. He used it to display the records he’d found on Garner and then passed the tablet over to Rowe. “Quite an experienced individual.”
Rowe scanned through the records with a discerning eye. On paper, Jared Garner was definitely impressive. Perhaps too impressive for what they needed. But what kept drawing her attention was the photograph of Garner in uniform standing against the backdrop of the American flag. She’d seen that face before and now she struggled to remember where.
She thought back to the experience her company had with her former colleague, the man who became Lucent. When he went on a rampage in Proximo, it was Vanguard who came to stop him. And their leader was a man in crimson armor. A man whose face bore a striking resemblance to Garner.
“You idiot!” Rowe forcefully thrust the tablet back into Bradshaw’s hands with a snarl on her face. “You need to get rid of him immediately!”
“What’s your problem?” he asked. “He’s the most promising candidate we’
ve found yet!”
Roe tapped the tablet’s screen. “I recognize him. Bad enough we had Cerberus on our tails. But that man? That’s Gunsmith.”
“From Vanguard?” asked Bradshaw, his face filling with fear.
“How’s that possible?” asked Desmond. “I thought all of them were specials?”
“No, only most of them,” said Rowe. She glared at Bradshaw again. “You’d better see to it that this is fixed before Vanguard and Cerberus shut this operation down.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll handle it,” said Bradshaw, casting a knowing look to Desmond.
CHAPTER 10
Jim felt the power surge through his body as they dragged his last opponent out of the cage. He raised his arms as the crowd cheered. Someone outside the ring passed him a bottle of water and he tore the top off, spilling the entire contents down his throat, guzzling the liquid down.
He heard the sound of the cage door slamming shut. Time for the next challenger. Jim crumpled the plastic bottle, tossed it outside the cage, and turned around. But then he saw the man he was supposed to fight.
Desmond stripped off his jacket and shirt, revealing his muscled torso beneath. The man cracked his knuckles.
“What’s going on here?” asked Jim.
“You think you’re tough shit, think you can come in here and jeopardize everything we’ve been building?” asked Desmond. “Boy, I’m about to teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget.”
Desmond’s speed was uncanny. Jim barely had time to process before he felt like his face was battered by sledgehammers. He felt another blow in his abdomen and he keeled over, landing on the ground.
The first blows were so powerful, Jim had trouble breathing. He got to his knees, bracing himself with his arms. But then a blow struck his back and he slammed against the ground.
Desmond grabbed a fistful of Jim’s hair and raised his head off the ground. Jim could feel Desmond’s hot breath on the side of his face as the fighter whispered into his ear.
“Guess you’re not so tough without that armor.” Desmond paused and then hissed out, “Gunsmith.”
He slammed Jim’s head against the ground and stood up. Jim lay motionless on the ground for a few moments and Desmond held his arms out to the side, welcoming the mixture of cheers and jeers that came from the audience.
Jim’s fingers twitched. His mind was a swirl of thoughts, but one emotion charged through the haze. Rage filled his body and he began to rise up, the anger fueling him. His muscles bulged and rippled beneath his skin, his size increasing.
He charged into Desmond, driving his shoulder into the larger man’s back and slamming him against the side of the cage. Desmond broke free and moved around, driving Jim’s face into the metal bars.
Jim stumbled back, disoriented. That disorientation allowed Desmond to get a few more blows in, right to his face. And though he couldn’t see, he could hear the man’s taunts.
“So, this is the leader of Vanguard, huh?” he asked. “You’re not so tough. Makes me think all those specials you took out must’ve been pretty weak sauce.”
Jim felt impotent against Desmond’s strength. Even with the drug coursing through his system, Desmond was still superior to him. He couldn’t even feel anything other than pain now. Desmond’s taunts had now turned into background noise and Jim didn’t know if he was standing or on the ground.
He managed to see through the haze just long enough to hear a crash from above. Jim looked up, and though his vision was blurred, he saw a streak of red and white fly from a hole in the ceiling. Small, yet powerful hands tore the door off the cage and Jim slipped from Desmond’s grasp.
“You seem like an alpha dog type,” said Paragon, hovering into the ring. She cracked her knuckles as she locked eyes with Desmond. “Care to see how you fare against a girl?”
Desmond smiled and dropped Jim on the ground. He turned to face Paragon, clenching his fists and his muscles growing.
“Oh honey, it’d be my absolute pleasure.”
***
Paragon’s sudden entrance and confrontation with Desmond drew excited stares and the crowd was ready to watch a new fight begin. But then the door burst open from an energy blast and Zenith hovered in with Wraith by his side.
When Zenith spoke, his robotic body amplified his voice so it was like talking through a bullhorn. “Ladies and gentlemen, this area is no longer secure. Please evacuate in an orderly fashion. My associate and I will—”
Zenith was cut off as an empty beer bottle smashed against his head. He turned and looked at Wraith.
“That was quite rude.”
“You’re interrupting fight night, what’d you expect?” asked Wraith. “This is gonna turn into a riot now.”
“Then perhaps it is time for some crowd control. Shield your eyes.”
Wraith did as he was told, shutting his eyes and ducking. Zenith rose as high as he could and held out his arms. His body released a massive flash of light that blinded everyone in the room and caused the crowd to cease their hostilities.
“We need to start getting them out of here,” said Zenith.
“On it,” said Wraith, beginning to work on teleporting as many of the crowd from the area as he could while Zenith prevented any others from trying to attack him.
***
Paragon and Desmond charged at each other and when their fists connected, it was like a shockwave sent out through the cage. Her flight and speed made her far more mobile than Desmond, who was basically a juggernaut. She was able to fly around him and dodge his attacks, then quickly return with blows of her own, attacks he wasn’t fast enough to defend against.
“This is a bit disappointing,” she said. “Here I thought you were supposed to be some sort of champ down here.”
“I’ll tear you apart!” He grabbed hold of her cape and yanked her to the ground. Desmond wrapped his hand around her throat and pinned her down there, raising his free arm to strike.
Paragon’s hands reached for the fingers around her neck, but his grip was too strong. She stared at him, looking into his eyes and concentrated, delivering a psychic attack.
Desmond stumbled back, disoriented by the sudden surge of pain in his mind. And just as he began to recover, Paragon was on her feet and her fists slammed against his body.
He grabbed one of her fists in his hand and threw her against the cage. Desmond took her by the hair and brought her head crashing down into his raised knee.
Two massive hands wrapped around Desmond’s head and pulled him away from Paragon. Desmond was thrown against the far side of the cage, his back hitting the bars.
Jim stood between them, now back in the fight and his eyes nearly bulging with anger.
“Stay away from my friends!” he cried and charged.
Desmond wasn’t sure if he was growing weaker from the fight with Paragon, but somehow, Jim’s blows felt like they hit harder than before.
Jim drove one fist after another into Desmond’s face and body. He kept a firm grip on his opponent’s head to hold him in place as he delivered each punch. Desmond’s head continually slammed against the bars of the cage, the flesh bruising and blood seeping out of the open sores and orifices.
Vanguard’s leader pulled Desmond from the bars and slammed him onto the ground. He continued to wail on him and pretty soon, Desmond no longer had the ability to fight back.
But Jim wouldn’t stop. His fists continued to pound on his opponent.
Paragon had recovered from Desmond’s blows herself. When she saw what Jim was doing, she called out to him.
But he wouldn’t listen.
She flew at him, trying to hold back his hand before he could deliver another blow.
“Jim, stop! You’re going to kill him!”
“Good!” He threw Paragon off him and went back to Desmond.
“I said stop!” Paragon’s last word echoed loudly within Jim’s mind, like a command that caused him to at the very least pause.
Jim blinked and star
ed at his clenched fist. He tried to open his hand, to let go of the rage that infected his system. But it was a struggle that he couldn’t have expected.
“Wh-what am I doing…?” he asked, looking up at Paragon. “Anita…”
Paragon approached him, moving cautiously in case he went off the deep end again. She reached a hand for him and gently laid it on his fist.
“It’s okay, we’ll get you the help you need,” she said. “It’s all over now.”
Jim looked down at Desmond’s battered body. At what he did. He could still feel the drug coursing through him, but the effects would pass soon.
Then the real battle would begin.
***
“No, no, no!” screamed Bradshaw, turning away from the monitors. He saw Paragon’s interference in the fight and then tried to gather as much of the data as he could to escape.
His hand grabbed the phone on his desk, but in his panic, he dropped it. Picking it up again, his hand was shaking as he dialed Miriam Rowe’s number and held the device to his ear.
“What is it?” came the cold voice on the other end.
“Vanguard is here!”
“And you called me? Are you out of your mind?”
“You have to get me out of here! I-I know things!”
Rowe’s response was a laugh that sent a chill down Bradshaw’s spine.
“Oh Doctor, do you really think you know anything that could seriously link Proximo with your little endeavor? You have no hard evidence, anything you say will be viewed as speculation at best and the wild accusations of a desperate man at worst.”
“You can’t—”
“Give my regards to Vanguard.” With that, Rowe ended the call.
“Dammit!” Bradshaw threw the phone at the monitors and ran for his office door. Vanguard was mostly concerned with Desmond and the crowd. He hoped he could slip out in the chaos.
But just as he was about to open the door, it flew off its hinges and struck him in the face, knocking him onto his back. Bradshaw looked up and saw two people step through the entrance. One had holographic armor surrounding his body and the other was a thin, young woman with green skin and a bald head.
Vanguard: Seasons 1-3: A Superhero Adventure Page 69