by Lee, Tristan
“Maybe it’s the fact that the snow is cold and that my body heat adds to yours, making you more comfortable.”
“You know, sometimes I don’t know if I prefer it when you let loose all that knowledge in your head or when you’re dumber than pig shit.”
“I think I’ve got a little bit of an edge against the pig shit.”
“Of course you do, Sweetie-Pie. What’s for dinner?” Belle asks.
“What do you want for dinner?” Chris asks.
“Hmm, I’m sort of in a chicken mood,” Belle considers. “But I saw a Paco’s Tacos in San Francisco and I’m sort of craving it.”
“I could make you some chicken tacos,” Chris offers.
“If it’s not too much trouble.”
“It never is,” he answers.
“Do you ever get annoyed when you have to cook for me?” Belle asks, turning off the television so she can talk to him.
“No, never,” Chris says. “I love taking care of you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, plus, I just happen to really like cooking.”
“I like cooking too! Maybe one day I’ll make dinner for you.”
“Mm.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, slightly hurt.
“What does what mean?”
“That was your noncommittal grunt.”
“Nonsense. I don’t have a noncommittal grunt.”
“Yeah, you do that when you have an opinion but you don’t want to hurt my feelings.”
Chris stops seasoning the chicken and looks up, “Do you want an honest answer?”
“Of course I do. And don’t try to baby me, you won’t hurt my feelings.”
Chris takes a deep breath, “Alright. To be completely honest, I love your cooking.”
“Really?” Belle asks.
“Yep. After I came home from work and you made that meatloaf for me, I always wanted to ask you to make me another one, or something else, but I always thought that you wouldn’t want to.”
“I’d love to cook for you!” Belle bubbles. “How about this, I’ll make lunch for you tomorrow.”
“Sounds great!” Chris says.
In truth, Chris is wondering if he would have been better off losing to Beyomaht in San Francisco. Belle’s cooking has always walked a thin line between disgusting and downright deadly. Her meatloaf had been burnt black and was stuffed with a puree of the asparagus and spinach she had found in the fridge. The only things Belle cooks well are sandwiches of any kind and cereal.
Elsewhere, Frank is kneeling in front of his mother’s grave as the rain pours down, but whereas Chris and Belle enjoy their snow, the weather just reminds Frank of the night he lost everything. Even though his mother’s murder and his blinding was a horrible event, Frank clings to the memory, since it was the last night he could see. Although risky, Frank is in his field uniform, sword and all.
“Hi, Mom,” Frank says. “I know it’s been a while since I last dropped by, but I was sort of busy.”
The marble headstone stays silent.
“I got a new job,” Frank says. “I work at Invictus Corp. now. It’s just a desk job, but it pays well and I’m not living in that grubby little apartment anymore.”
The headstone says nothing.
“I found the guy, Mom. I found the guy that killed you. I’ve known where he lived for a while, now, but I don’t know what to do. I did my research, he cleaned himself up after he killed you, quit the mob, reintegrated into society. I don’t know if I should still kill him or not. He’s a good man now, even I have to admit that. I’m also afraid of what I’d do if I decide to end him. What if I do something . . . brutal? Every time I make a risky decision, I ask myself, would Mom be proud of me if she saw me doing this? This is the biggest decision of my life so far. If I kill him, then I will have avenged you, but I would have slaughtered a man who has not committed a crime for close to thirty years. But if I don’t, then everything has been for naught. The training, the fighting, the killing. All of it has been to find the man who killed you. And if I don’t do that, then what am I to stand for?”
As much as Frank wishes it would not, the headstone keeps its silence.
Frank rises to his feet and bows to his mother’s headstone, “I miss you, Mom.”
As he begins to leave the graveyard, Frank senses another presence near his. He instinctively draws his sword and slowly turns around, scanning for an assailant. A shape lunges out of the darkness. It tackles him to the ground, making him drop his sword. His assailant punches him in the face repeatedly until Frank dodges one of his fists and headbutts him. Frank throws the assailant off himself and smashes his face into a neighboring headstone. The force of his strike takes a chunk out of the grave, also knocking his assailant unconscious. Frank holds him by the scruff of his neck and drags him along as the Blind Swordsman teleports to the safest place he can think of.
“Hey, Frank,” Chris says when he answers the door. “Belle! Frank’s here!”
“What’s up, ninja-man?” Belle asks. “You want a chicken taco? Whoa, what’s up with the suit and the sword? I thought we were supposed to go home.”
“No, thank you. I need a place to stay and I don’t know if my address has been infiltrated or not.”
“You can crash with us any time,” Chris says.
“I also have a prisoner to take care of.”
“Ooooh, who is it?” Belle asks.
“I don’t know, but he was well-trained enough to catch me off-guard.”
“He didn’t happen to be about six feet tall, ripped as a guy who drives a Hummer and is named Chad, and with black hair and various facial scars, did he?” Chris asks.
“That’s actually exactly what he looks like.”
Belle and Chris look at each other uncertainly. Frank furrows his brow in confusion, “Why, do you know him?”
“I think we should call the others,” Belle suggests.
Five minutes later, the strike team is gathered in Belle and Chris’s living room in their civilian guises. Frank’s assailant is tied to the uncomfortable wooden chair Sandor was forced into when he started recruiting the team.
“Who is he?” Dick asks.
“His name’s Victor Gallows,” Belle says. “Used to be a Black Dragon, then a S.A.B.R.E. assassin, and now he’s just a gun for hire.”
“How do you know so much about this guy?” Anna asks.
“He tried to kill us a bunch of times,” Chris answers. “He’s sort of our archenemy.”
“Should we get suited up?” Peter asks. “It might be better if the supervillain doesn’t know what we all look like.”
“He already knows,” Belle says. “One time we raided his home base and found this long-ass list of names. All of you guys were on it, so I guess he still has access to S.A.B.R.E.’s mainframe.”
“Why hasn’t he come after any of us yet?” Dr. Pryce asks.
“No one paid him too,” Anna deduces. “A professional assassin tries not to do freebies.”
“So does that mean someone paid him to kill Frank?” Dick asks.
“Let’s find out,” Dr. Pryce says, opening a small bottle and holding it under Gallows’ nose. The smelling salts are strong enough for the other heroes to smell it, but it still takes another three minutes for the smell to wake Gallows up.
“This is embarrassing,” Gallows says.
“Who hired you to kill me?” Frank asks.
Gallows laughs, “What, no cup of tea? You’re awfully bad hosts.”
“Answer the question,” Anna orders.
“Hey there, little Nightshade,” says Gallows. “Nihon-Ja’s still got a pretty big bounty on your head. I might take it up a little later.”
“I could just attach a few electrodes to your forehead and shock you until you tell us,” threatens Dr. Pryce.
“Do it,” Gallows dares. “You don’t have the balls, doctor.”
Dr. Pryce sighs and opens his briefcase. The inside of the briefc
ase is filled with various machine parts, so Dr. Pryce has to rummage around for a while until he finds to wires with white, circular pads attached to one end and a small, grey generator. He plugs the wires into the generator and sticks the pads to Gallows’ forehead.
“One last chance, Gallows,” Dr. Pryce offers. “Tell us who hired you to kill our teammate.”
“Not on your life,” Gallows promises.
Dr. Pryce flips a switch on the generator and Gallows’ laughter turn into screams as a strong electric current runs down each of the wires and into him. He continues to scream until Dr. Pryce flips the switch again, turning off the electricity.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Gallows says, breathing hard.
“I’m not in a very nice mood,” Dr. Pryce answers. “Are you going to tell us who you work for or shall I give you another zap?”
“Shock me all you want, doctor, it won’t make a –“ Gallows starts to say, but he cut off by the electricity.
“Do good guys torture people?” Belle asks her husband.
“I guess, since we’re the good guys and all. Plus, he’s a jackass.”
“If you want to tell me who paid you, I’ll stop the electricity,” Dr. Pryce says. “Just nod if you want to talk.”
Gallows is unable to nod since the electricity is making him spasm violently. He does, however, let out several screams.
“What? I’m sorry, you’ll have to say that again,” Dick says. “The doc can’t hear you!”
“I’ll talk!” screams Gallows as his nose starts to bleed.
Dr. Pryce shuts off the generator, “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“It was the aliens,” Gallows pants. “This blue guy hired me to attack one of you.”
“Why?” Dr. Pryce asks.
“So . . . so you didn’t focus your efforts on finding them. The plan was to kill one of you and disappear, so while you’re all looking for me, they would be able to plan behind your backs.”
“Mercenaries hiring mercenaries,” Peter snorts.
“Call Sandor, tell him that we’ve got another prisoner to take to Isla de Muerte,” Dr. Pryce tells Chris. He nods and jogs towards the phone.
“What? Isla de Muerte? You can’t send me there!” Gallows protests. “That’s for superhumans. I’m just a mercenary, I’ve got no powers!”
“Is this true?” Dick asks Belle.
“Probably,” she answers, “I’ve never seen him use powers before, just some big guns.”
“We’ll send you anyway,” Dr. Pryce decides. “Regular prisons won’t be able to control you. I’ll request a maximum security cell for you. The only person whose cell is more defended is John Maggia’s.”
“John Maggia? Who’s that?” Belle asks.
“He’s a supervillain who was dubbed as Retseyekh twenty years ago.”
“Retseyekh? What the hell does that mean?” Anna asks.
“It’s the Yiddish word for ‘killer’. That’s unimportant, though.”
Chris enters the room, “Sandor’s sending a transport our way, but he needs to see us.”
“All of us?” Frank asks. “At this time?”
“I guess it’s important,” Chris says with a shrug.
The aforementioned transport does arrive and the Invincibles turn over a slightly charred Gallows to the S.A.B.R.E. soldiers. Along with the transport is the same kind of armored sedan the president is transported in.
“For Christ’s sake! Who the hell do you think you are?” Gallows snarls as two S.A.B.R.E. soldiers force him into the transport.
“We’re the . . . uh . . . we’re the Invincibles,” Anna says.
“I like it,” Belle says with a small shrug.
“What’s that for?” Peter asks a S.A.B.R.E. soldier, pointing to the sedan.
“We’re supposed to take you to your headquarters at once,” the soldier answers.
“Sort of a long drive to Skyline at this time of night,” Dr. Pryce says skeptically.
The soldier smiles, “Boy are you in for a shock, sir.”
Invincibles Tower
August 9th
Like the other Invincibles, Dr. Pryce is, indeed, shocked. Instead of the bleak, militaristic Gideon bunker, they are taken to the tower that used to be called Olympus. Standing at one hundred and twelve stories high, the sleek silver tower sports state-of-the-art defense and intelligence systems. Easily the most recognizable building on the Haven skyline, the tower used to be the Olympian’s base of operations up until the Age of Paragon, after which it was closed and never reopened. Now, instead of the omega perched on the side of the tower next to the landing pad, there is a winged sword, the emblem of S.A.B.R.E.
“Good evening, strike team,” Sandor says as they take the elevator up. “We’ve taken the liberty of moving all of your supplies from the bunker to here.”
“Cool beans,” Belle says as she fills up a cup with water from the built-in dispenser.
“We updated all the databases this morning and refilled all the ammunition for our defenses,” Sandor explains. “This tower is the single most amazing technological marvel on this side of prime meridian.”
“We’re the Invincibles now, actually,” Anna says quietly.
“What was that?” Sandor asks.
“She said we’re the Invincibles,” Frank says.
“Whatever,” Sandor responds. “You could call yourselves the Super Friends for all I care.”
The elevator stops and the door opens, revealing the Invincibles’ new headquarters on the top floor. It looks like the inside of a penthouse, with tile floors, a common area with several comfortable-looking sofas and armchairs, a huge television display dominating one wall, a full kitchen, three bathrooms, and a floor-to-ceiling window with a door leading to the landing pad. Resting proudly on the landing pad is their XC900 Falcon. The only thing that does not make it seem like a millionaire’s retreat, (other than the Falcon), is the lab that takes up about a quarter of the floor. Inside the lab are all the same machines from the bunker, and seven display cases with the Invincibles’ field uniforms inside for quick access.
“This place is sweet!” Peter exclaims. He opens the fridge, pulls out an Orange Bubbler soda and pops it open.
“There are bedrooms for all of you, gender-specific bathrooms, and this will be your home while on duty,” Sandor says. “When you’re off duty, you can go home, but there always have to be at least two . . . Invincibles . . . on duty at all times. We’re making your timetables now, so if you have any requests for a partner, now’s the time.”
“I want Chris,” Belle says immediately.
“I want Belle,” Chris says.
Sandor nods and writes a note down on his tablet with a stylus, “Anyone else?”
“Can I request to not be with Peter?” Anna asks.
“Sure.”
“Then I request that.”
Sandor nods and makes note of that, “Until we get your shifts worked out, all of you are on duty. We’ll have some of your clothes brought here shortly.”
“How much are we getting paid?” Dick asks.
“Well, we were thinking about a monthly salary of twenty thousand dollars for each of you,” Sandor says.
Belle’s mouth drops open, “Twenty thousand?”
“Yes.”
“Holy frick-frack-frackity-whack,” Chris says. “The G.C.F.D. doesn’t pay that well.”
All of the Invincibles have civilian jobs, and Chris is referring to his at the Goodwater City Fire Department, where he works. After he revealed his identity to the other firemen, they gave him the privilege to go home whenever he wants to, and to leave suddenly, even during emergencies while still receiving full pay. The other firemen are among his most trusted friends, and all of them have sworn never to reveal Chris’s identity. The fire captain, Pierre Freeman, is the non-combatant hero Hotshot, and another fireman, Michael Gideon, is the new armored protector of Genesis, Airstrike.
Belle is a nurse at the Goodwater Genera
l Hospital, where she revealed her secret to her superior, Dr. Eva St. Clair. Like Chris’s friends at the firehouse, Dr. St. Clair has sworn to keep her secret and has given Belle the most flexible schedule of all, requiring her to report for work only five hours a week. Any more time spent there is considered as overtime, meaning that a regular day at work would let Belle rake in the overtime bonuses. Dr. St. Clair is the daughter of Maya St. Clair, a former member of the Knight’s Academy. Her daughter has inherited her powers and is the magically powered heroine Witch Doctor
Frank got a new job at Zero Corporation. Zero is a multi-trillion dollar corporation that does practically everything. Zero owns thirty-five percent of the companies on the planet, but due to their founder and CEO’s quick thinking and political influence, Zero is technically not running a monopoly. At Zero, Frank is just an office worker, making spreadsheets, graphs, etc. Zero’s unnamed CEO does not trust his workers not to be spies from the few rival companies left, so most of the real work is left to himself and computers. The living, breathing workers do little more than busy work, so Frank has no trouble sneaking away when Ronin is needed.
Dick is officially unemployed, but he gets a monthly allowance of a thousand dollars because of his service during World War 3. Twelve thousand dollars a year simply is not enough for Dick to maintain his standard of living, so Dick fights in wrestling or boxing matches for extra money. Winning is not particularly hard for Dick since he has enhanced strength and superhuman reflexes, but it is risky. If his name got out, he would never be able to lead a normal life again, nor would his newly found career as an Invincible last very long.
Dr. Pryce works as a professor at M.I.T. and does freelance work for a local news agency. His work on Project Arsenal has made him a popular choice for this year’s Nobel Prize, but he has to keep his most amazing breakthrough a secret. This breakthrough, of course, is his cerebral transfer matrix, which allows him to input his consciousness into his android bodies. If his matrix was to be revealed, it would also reveal his alter ego as well as unleash a possibly devastating new weapon of war on the planet.
Anna is the bouncer at the dingy strip club Sandor recruited her in. It does not pay very well, but she gets food and shelter, as well as being off the grid. Nihon-Ja’s Black Dragons have been hunting Anna for years, but none of them have even thought to look for a strip club that requires off-road driving to reach. The bartender, Bubba, knows that Anna is Nightshade, but a mix of fear and friendship have kept his lips firmly sealed.