The Invincibles (Book 1): The Invincibles

by Lee, Tristan

  “Six infantry and two snipers,” Dr. Invictus mutters to himself. “Not great numbers for a solo ambush, especially with hostages.”

  Before he can even contemplate what to do, he is spotted by one of the snipers. It lets out another high-pitched shriek and fires a shot at Dr. Invictus’ head. The shot is not a bullet, instead it is a high-powered bolt of lightning that splits his head in two.

  For the second time in less than six hours, Dr. Invictus has been killed.

  The Battle of San Francisco

  August 8th

  “Alright. Roll call,” Defender orders. “Let’s see who survived.”

  The strike team is communicating through the telepathic link Ronin established through all of them, like a chat room in their heads. Although still divided throughout the city, now they have a way to communicate. The only Invincible who cannot be reached is Dr. Invictus.

  “Ronin.”

  “Here.”

  “Nightshade.”

  “Here.”

  “Demoness.”

  “Here.”

  “Titan.”

  “Here.”

  “I’m obviously here, and Dr. Invictus cannot be reached. Report what you found out so far. Ronin, Nightshade, you two first.”

  “The aliens are called the Aotiuer,” Ronin says. “They’re here because they’re mercenaries. This fleet is one of over a thousand scout forces sent out to find our planet. They seems to be humanoid, only smaller and with bigger mouths.”

  “Good to know. Demoness, Titan. Report.”

  “Uh, we didn’t find out anything about their backstories,” Demoness says. “But the, uh, what are they called?”

  “Aotiuer,” Titan says helpfully.

  “Yeah. The Aotiuer we beat up were sort of big and they looked like gorillas with scales. That’s all.”

  “The pilots to their fighters looked different than the ones you described,” Defender says. “They were more like big locusts.”

  “So, what’s out next move?” Nightshade asks.

  “We can’t wait for Dr. Invictus anymore,” Defender says. “Rendezvous in the park that Titan described. Once we’re all there we’ll plan on how to get the hostages. Over and out.”

  “Defender, buddy, I hate to break it to you, but we’re still inside your head,” Titan says. “Not really sure how to get out.”

  “We’re tethered together until you give your blood to new life,” Ronin says. “If I die, fragments of my conscience will live on inside all of your minds. The psychic connection, however, will be severed.”

  “That’s a pretty jacked-up way of doing this,” Demoness comments.

  “I don’t make the rules on these spells,” Ronin says.

  “Enough chitchat,” Defender breaks in. “Strike team, strike them hard.”

  “That’s stupid,” Demoness says.

  “And kind of forced,” adds Titan.

  “Just go!”

  The strike team encounter little resistance on their way to the rendezvous point. Once together, they attempt to formulate a viable plan that will get them in and out of the hotel street without losing a hostage or one of their own.

  “I could lead a diversion,” Titan volunteers. “Me and Demoness fly by and start zapping them.”

  “Civvies could get hurt,” Ronin points out. “Who knows how the Aotiuer will react.”

  “Where’s Dr. Invictus?” Nightshade asks. “We still don’t know if he’s alive or dead.”

  “Uh, guys?” Defender says. “It looks like he’s dead to me.”

  Defender is pointing to a rooftop where Dr. Invictus’ body is hanging from a black cable. The Aotiuer guarding the hostages are letting out loud shrieks, celebrating their victory.

  “Frick-frack-frackity-whack,” Demoness curses. “Now what the frackity-whack are we supposed to do?”

  “New plan,” Defender says quickly. “They’re distracted from the hostages. We can use that to our advantage.”

  “How? They’re still going to be able to shoot the hostages,” Nightshade says.

  “Erm, Ronin, can you magic them out or something?” Defender asks.

  “Not that many at once. Maybe five or six at a time.”

  “That’s not going to work. Damn, we need someone faster,” Defender says.

  “Fast?” Titan asks. “Like, moves fast?”

  “Yes, Titan, someone fast,” Defender says, obviously annoyed. “We need someone who can get all the hostages away before the Aotiuer noticing.”

  “That was a pretty stupid question,” Demoness admits. “But you leave him alone, Defender. Don’t be a stinker.”

  “No, it’s just that . . . I know a guy,” Titan says. “He owes me a favor and he might be able to help us out.”

  “Who is it?” Nightshade asks.

  “Anyone got a phone on them?” asks Titan.

  Defender unclips a satellite phone from his belt and tosses it to Titan, “If this is some kind of joke, Titan, I’ll kick your face in.”

  “Like you could,” Titan snorts as he types.

  He raises the phone to his ear and waits for the person on the other end to pick up. Finally, after about a minute and at the very edge of Defender’s patience, Titan’s asset picks up.

  “Hey! Pete!” Titan says into the phone. “It’s Chris. Yeah, Titan. Cool, you remember me. Since we’re on the subject of remembering stuff, remember that favor you owe me? I’m calling it in. San Francisco. Yes, with the alien invasion. No, I am not the one invading. Just get over here. If I was, the invasion would already be over. Go for the Hilton in Chinatown. Bye.”

  “Who were you talking to?” Demoness asks.

  Before Titan can answer, a silver blur with a streak of red flashes by the team. The blur stops moving a few feet away, revealing a man, in a red jumpsuit with a silver harness strapped to his chest. There is a circle emitting white light on the center of his harness and he wears a silver helmet; its visor has red lenses for the eyes and a mouthpiece similar to a scuba diver’s. The twin tubes attached to either side of the mouthpiece connect to a tank on his back. He’s short though, only an inch or two taller than Demoness.

  “Your big friend here was talking to me,” he says.

  Titan starts to clap, but the other heroes just stare at the man blankly.

  “What? You didn’t introduce me?” the man asks incredulously.”

  “Dude, you really didn’t give me time,” Titan says.

  “Right, right. Well, for you uneducated people, I am the one, the only, Fastball!”

  “Fastball,” Defender says questioningly.

  “Yep,” Fastball says, changing to a deep, sports announcer voice. “On one, fateful night, a dashingly handsome young man accepted what he thought was cocaine from a bum who had unknowingly stolen a really complicated government chemical formula. That chemical gifted him with the ability to run faster than the speed of sound, albeit stunting his growth and making him prone to boredom.”

  “Everything he said is true except for the dashingly handsome part,” Titan says.

  “Shut up,” Fastball says, “as I was saying, on my first foray into the world of crime-fighting, this douchebag you call Titan punched me in the head.”

  “It was a tap.”

  “Do you know how hard you tap? That’s what she said. Anyway, I received moderate brain damage from that, so now I need this harness and the helmet to keep me powered up and to prevent me from fainting or vomiting when I run.”

  Fastball seems to notice Demoness for the first time, “And who is this lovely lady? Titan, is this that special someone you told me about? The one you said is so beautiful that not a single nebula in the universe could compare to her? The one you said that the only reason you are still on Earth is to be with her? Could this be the Prince of Xor’s wife?”

  Demoness giggles, “That’s so sweet, Titan. I love you too.”

  Titan is not amused, “Do you want to die, Fastball? Because that’s how you end up dead.”

>   “He’s funny,” Demoness says. “I think he’s cool.”

  “He’ll change your mind soon enough,” Titan promises.

  Defender yanks Fastball around roughly, obviously impatient with the idle conversation.

  “Whoa, buddy, watch the suit.”

  “Is he really the kind of guy we want to stake the lives of over a hundred people one?” Defender asks. “That brain damage seems to be pretty severe.”

  “Don’t worry, dog,” Fastball says. “I’m perfectly sane.”

  “I doubt that,” Nightshade says. “You just admitted that you got your powers from doing cocaine.”

  “I never said I stopped.”

  “You trust this guy?” Defender asks Titan.

  “No, not entirely,” Titan answers. “But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

  Defender nods, “Alright, here’s the plan. Ronin, Nightshade, you two are the quietest and most lethal people on the team. I want you two positioned to take out the snipers the second the hostages are clear.”

  They nod and Ronin teleports himself and Anna to their respective positions, Ronin is hovering above one sniper and Nightshade taps the face of her watch twice, which makes her fade away from view. The watch is a cloaking device renders the user virtually invisible. Although not perfect invisibility, almost no one would notice the heat haze-like blur the user becomes.

  “Demoness, Titan, you two are our brawlers; after Fastball gets the hostages away, give them hell,” Defender continues.

  “Titan is a brawler,” Demoness protests. “I’m more of a . . . venatrix.”

  “A what?” Titan asks.

  “Venatrix. Female version of ‘venator’.”

  “Remind me again what that is.”

  Demoness rolls her eyes, “It’s Latin for ‘hunter,’ dummy.”

  “Really? It makes you sound like a prostitute.”

  “Hey!”

  “Back to the matter at hand,” Defender interrupts. “Fastball, this whole plan’s success rests on you.”

  “That sounds risky,” Fastball comments.

  “It is. I need you to get every civilian on that street somewhere safe before the Aotiuer notice.”

  “Shit. That sounds like a lot of responsibility,” Fastball says.

  “You don’t have to do it if you don’t think you’re up to it,” Defender says. The tone of his voice hints that he really does not want Fastball doing it.

  Fastball is either oblivious to the hint or does not care, “I’ll do it, boss. You can count on Fastball.”

  “For some reason I doubt that,” Defender says dryly. “Strike team, get in position. Fastball, on three. Ready, people?”

  Fastball nods and Titan gives his lucky air freshener a sniff before giving Defender thumbs-up. Ronin and Nightshade are already in position, so Defender starts counting.

  “One . . . two . . . three!”

  Even though he made a damn good impression of being incompetent, Fastball does his job exceptionally well. In less than half a second, there are over thirty silver and red flashes as the fastest man in the galaxy gets the hostages out. Two seconds later, as the Aotiuer turn around, Ronin and Nightshade eliminate the snipers as the Living Star and the Prince of Xor lay waste to the infantry. Defender fires his grappling hook and climbs up the side of the building the snipers were on so he is parallel to Mr. Invictus’ body. He tests the strength of the rope and snaps it in one tug.

  Demoness and Titan rip through the Aotiuer easily, the combination of Titan’s punches and kicks and Demoness’s bolts of red light decimate the Aotiuer. Nightshade and Ronin drop down on the roof to join their fellow heroes, just as Fastball returns. The entire operation takes less than twenty seconds.

  “Hey guys, what took you so long?” Fastball asks. He removes his mouthpiece and takes a swig of the extra-large soft drink he has in one hand.

  “Where did you take the hostages?” Ronin asks.

  “Couldn’t remember my address, so I just dumped them at the Kentucky Fried Chicken with a hundred dollar bill and told them to get dinner on me. Oh, and I grabbed this drink on the way out. Did you know that they have different flavors of root beer? It’s freaking surreal,” Fastball says quickly.

  “Whoa, whoa, bud, root beer? You know you can’t handle caffeine,” Titan says.

  “What happens if he has caffeine?” Nightshade asks suspiciously.

  “I get more fun,” Fastball slurs.

  “Caffeine overrides the fluid he uses to negate his brain damage,” Titan explains. “While he’s on a buzz like that, he’ll act hyper, but he won’t be able to run. And somewhere down the line he’ll pass out.”

  “I hate to admit it, but we’re going to need this guy,” Defender says. “Is there any way to snap him out of that?”

  “Cocaine,” Titan says, “but something tells me we don’t have a lot of that lying around. Cheetos work, too.”

  “Is that a joke?” Demoness asks.

  “No, the monosodium glutamate boosts the fluid enough to fight off the caffeine.”

  “Those were some big words,” Demoness says, impressed.

  “Google,” Titan says simply.

  Demoness laughs and wraps her arms around his torso, “I love you, Titan.”

  “I love you, Demoness.”

  “It really doesn’t have the full effect when we’re using our codenames.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Now . . . kiss!” Fastball cries drunkenly. He manages to stagger around for a few steps before he passes out.

  Defender looks to Titan questioningly, “Is he even going to wake up?”

  Titan shrugs, “Depends. Could be five minutes, could be a couple of hours. We could jumpstart his harness, give him an extra kick, but that’s going to take a lot of electricity.”

  “We don’t have the time to wait for him,” Ronin says. “We need to find their alpha and take it out.”

  “What makes you think that?” Nightshade asks.

  “Did you notice how the Aotiuer we fought behaved? They were coordinated when Solomon Wraith was with them, but once I killed them, they lost cohesion,” Ronin explains. “I think that if we can take out whatever alpha is keeping them together, they’ll lose their ability to act as a unit.”

  “And if you’re wrong?” Defender asks.

  “Well, it’ll look bitching,” Ronin answers.

  “I can support that,” Demoness says.

  “How’s the doc?” Nightshade asks, nodding to Dr. Invictus’ body.

  “He’s fine,” answers the robotic female voice of Veronica. “This body’s done for, but the Predator model should be here in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.”

  A model of Dr. Invictus lands, similar in shape to the original, but this one has camouflage paint instead of chrome and a single, red eye mounted in the center of its forehead. The eye has a crosshair in the center of it, used for precision aiming. Once it lands, its eye pulses blue as Dr. Invictus connects to it.

  “Killed twice in six hours,” Dr. Invictus complains. “That’s damn embarrassing.”

  “Good to have you back, doc,” Defender says.

  “Who’s he?” Dr. Invictus asks about Fastball.

  “He’s our newest teammate,” Titan explains. “We needed him to get all of the hostages out.”

  “Ah, Fastball,” Dr. Invictus says. “I should have recognized him.”

  “He’s out of the game right now,” Defender says. “You got anything that could wake him up?”

  “I judge that none of you have any adrenaline on you, correct?”

  The team nods, so Dr. Invictus pulls his destroyed body to Fastball.

  “I’m going to use this android’s power source to wake him up,” Dr. Invictus explains as he connects the glowing blue pyramid to the white light on Fastball’s chest.

  “I’d look away if I had eyes,” Dr. Invictus advises. The strike team turns away as a blinding flash results from him transferring power from the pyramid t
o Fastball.

  Once the flash is gone, Fastball sits up, breathing hard.

  “Holy shit, I need to stop having caffeine,” Fastball proclaims.

  “Welcome back,” Dr. Invictus says.

  “Holy shit, you’re Dr. Invictus. What happened while I was out?”

  Dr. Invictus explains their new plan to stop the Aotiuer invasion of San Francisco. Fastball takes off his helmet and rubs his head.

  “Am I like, on the team, now? Am I one of the cool kids?” he asks.

  “Sure,” Defender says through gritted teeth.

  “Cool. Yeah, I’ll help you out,” Fastball agrees. “Hold on, am I going to have to share my secret identity with you guys?”

  “Yes,” Dr. Invictus says.

  “I mean, I like this whole team. You guys are great; instant pals. But I don’t know if I really want to give up my secret identity.”

  Defender, now extremely frustrated, points to Demoness and Titan, “Belle Drake, Christopher Drake.”

  Then to Ronin and Nightshade, “Franklin Butler, Anna Barnes.”

  Finally, Dr. Invictus and himself, “Alexander Pryce and I’m Dick Barnes. You’re Peter Gary Willis.”

  Fastball is almost speechless, “How did you-?”

  “I’m Batman!” Demoness growls. Titan begins to laugh uncontrollably.

  “Alright, you got me,” Fastball says. “But this means we’re even for New Santos.”

  “Fine,” Titan says grudgingly.

  “What happened in New Santos?” Demoness asks.

  “You didn’t see it on the news?” Titan asks.

  “Nope.”

  “Good. You don’t want to know.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s pretty weird.”

  “We fought the B.F.F., I can handle weird.”

  Titan sighs, “There was this mad scientist whose only weapon was a freeze ray. It was so clichéd we didn’t want to tell anyone. And then he froze us, and the only way to break out was through everything. Including our clothes.”