by Lee, Tristan
With that, Owlman strikes the guard in the temple, knocking him out cold. Too enraged to use his better judgment, Owlman kicks the door down without scanning the room to assess for threats. The three men are far too distracted by the crying, half-nude intern they are taunting. They stand in a crude circle around her, one of them with his back to the door and the other two at an angle so that none of them are facing Owlman head on. While still moving, Owlman grabs the fire extinguisher from its rack by the door and hits the man closest to him with it in the head. The man drops like a rock and Owlman throws the fire extinguisher with all his strength at the next man; the fire extinguisher makes it mark in between the man’s eyes, sending him flying backwards. The final man realizes his plight and begins to raise his weapon, but Owlman closes the distance by leaping over the intern and tackles the final man to the ground. Owlman gets up first and, still enveloped by rage, drags the soldier over to the window. Screaming for mercy and struggling with all his strength, the soldier does everything he can to shake himself loose from Owlman’s grip. All his efforts are proved to be in vain as Owlman smashes the window and throws him off the sixty-first floor.
“Are you alright?” Owlman asks the sobbing intern. “Did they hurt you?”
She manages to shake her head before fainting. Owlman shrugs to no one in particular and picks up the two remaining soldiers, dragging them out into the hall before locking the intern in the room.
Demoness and Titan have neither the stealth of Owlman nor the fancy gadgets of Defender. Their approach is much more direct: beat the shit out of anyone from Kronos. Although crude, their plan is quite effective; the duo has already taken down two Kronos squads and, if Titan’s x-ray vision is as reliable as he claims it is, they are rapidly approaching a third.
“How do you want to take these guys out?” Demoness asks.
“Aren’t we just going to hit them until they don’t get up again?” Titan asks.
“We did that for the last two squads; don’t you want to try out something new?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know . . . you want to sneak around in the vents like Owlman?”
“I’m done with crawling around in vents,” Titan says flatly.
“You’re such a party pooper,” Demoness complains.
“Sorry.”
“I know, I’ll wear your suit and you wear my suit, so then when they see us, they’ll think I’m you and you’re me, so when we use our powers it’ll totally mess them up.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work because I’m a foot and nine inches taller than you and more than a hundred pounds heavier.”
Only then do they realize that the Kronos squad that they had been stalking had rounded the corner a few seconds before and had been staring at them as they had their conversation.
“Hi, guys!” Demoness says cheerily. “I’m Demoness and this is Titan.”
“Hi,” Titan says, giving them a slight wave.
“I’m sure you have this plan about shooting us or something, but it’s not going to work out in your favor,” Demoness continues in the same happy tone with the same, forced smile plastered on her face.
“What are you doing?” Titan whispers.
“New plan,” she hisses back.
The Kronos soldiers begin to argue amongst themselves in German, so Demoness turns to her giant of a husband with a satisfied smirk.
“See? It’s working,” Demoness says smugly.
“What was the plan?” he asks.
“You’re so dumb sometimes,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? I was trying to get them to start fighting amongst themselves and now they’re fighting amongst themselves.”
As one, the Kronos soldiers raise their assault rifles to fire on Demoness and Titan. His Xorian hyper-reflexes kicking in, Titan grabs Demoness by the shoulder and shoves her behind him as her brow furrows and her mouth opens questioningly. If he had been half a second slower, his precious wife would have been shredded to pieces under their hail of lead. When the bullets impact Titan’s body, they do not even ricochet. Instead, each bullet is crushed flat when it impacts. Demoness taps on Titan’s shoulder twice in quick succession, their signal that she has a shield up and he does not have to shield her anymore.
The Prince of Xor charges at the Kronos soldiers; unsure of whether to scatter or keep firing, the Kronos thugs make the fatal mistake of pausing their fire for a split second. In that barely noticeable period of time before the Kronos men start firing again, Titan has already cleared the entire distance of the hallway and rams his shoulder into a soldier. The impact shatters the soldier’s ribcage and sends him flying into the wall. Next, Titan grabs two soldiers by the backs of their heads and smashes them together. With three men down, the other three Kronos soldiers have the epiphany that they simply are not being paid enough to deal with the Invincibles. Unfortunately for them, Titan is not in a particularly forgiving mood. He leaps into the air and kicks him in the back with both feet at once, severing the man’s spinal cord. The man with the severed spine flies into one of his comrades with enough force to send both of them sprawling down the hallway.
The final Kronos soldier whips out a hand grenade with the pin pulled out and brandishes it at Titan threateningly. Titan is thoroughly unimpressed and Demoness forms a red, translucent bubble around the grenade that contains the explosion. The blast, however, still takes off the Kronos soldier’s hand. The man screams in pain before blacking out.
“I think I’m going to puke,” Demoness says, looking away from the blackened, bloody stump.
“You need to keep an eye out for yourself,” Titan says sternly. “I’m not going to be able to save you every time, you know.”
“Why not, buddy?” Demoness asks. “You’re not going to go find yourself another wife, are you?”
“You know that I can’t do that,” Titan says. Xorians mate for life, so it is physically impossible for Titan to seek another spouse; his brain simply will not let him do it, even if Demoness were to die or leave him.
“Well what then?”
“I’m not going to be around forever.”
Demoness pokes him in the belly, “You still seem plenty alive to me.”
Titan sees the images the figure in black had shown him, the world on fire, the skyscraper, the pain, and the feeling of falling. He now knows that what he saw is how he will die, taking fire from a vast army while lifting a falling skyscraper. The Prince of Xor does not know when that will happen, but he does know that he cannot tell his wife. She would die with worry.
“That’s not the point,” he says. “Just be careful, okay?”
“Okay,” Demoness says. “You want to go find some more Kronos thugs?”
“Of course,” Titan says.
Dr. Invictus blasts away another Kronos soldier as he leads Sandor, Kaiju, and Simon down to the garage. The other Invincibles have done an exceptional job cleaning up the Kronos forces, so the amount of resistance they find is minimal.
“Kaiju, go small,” Dr. Invictus orders. “Clear a path.”
Kaiju shrinks out of sight, he cannot be seen, but his work is clearly visible; Kronos soldiers lie on the ground unconscious, but with no signs of injury. The path is completely clear until there is the sound of gunfire and Kaiju is sent flying down the hallway, this time normal-sized.
Dr. Invictus turns the corner and returns fire on the Kronos men. Kaiju struggles to his feet, luminescent blue blood trickling from dozens of bullet wounds.
“I’m fine,” Kaiju says, waving Simon away when he tries to help the massive alien up.
“You’re anything but fine,” Dr. Invictus says.
“I can keep going,” Kaiju grunts.
“You can barely stand, let alone fight,” Simon says. “Here, I’ll-“
“No,” Kaiju says. “You need to keep going. Leave me here.”
“No man left behind,” Sandor says firmly.
“I’m not a man, am I?” Kaiju says. �
�Go. I’ll be fine.”
The Invincibles reluctantly leave their teammate behind and push on to the underground garage. In the garage, they are about to access one of the armored sedans when they hear the collective clicks of several guns being primed at once.
“Hands up!” a Kronos soldier orders. “Drop your weapons!”
With no other choice, the Invincibles comply. There are nine Kronos soldiers, all of them with their guns trained on the Invincibles. One of them, apparently the leader, drags Sandor over to his men.
“Shoot the metal one,” he orders. “Fifty caliber and above, to the head.”
The Kronos soldiers open fire on Dr. Invictus. He cannot fight back, lest he wants to see Simon and Sandor slaughtered. The bullets impact and the fifty-caliber rounds punch through his steel shell after a few seconds of sustained fire. He collapses to his knees under the hail of gunfire, one arm severed at the elbow and the other one hanging on its shoulder joint by a few wires. The gunfire stops for a moment so the Kronos soldiers can reload, allowing Simon to look upon Dr. Invictus. The Mechanical Man looks at him, a large chunk of his head gone and the rest of his head’s armor has been blasted away, revealing the circuitry inside. Then the gunfire starts again, a lethal storm of lead that rips away piece after piece of Dr. Invictus until ten or so rounds tear off his head. Decapitated, the lifeless metal shell drops to the floor.
“Who are you?” the leader asks Simon.
“Simon Lukaterro,” Simon says. He looks to Sandor, who nods once. A signal of confirmation. “I’m the muscle.”
Simon sweeps the man off of his feet and hoists him up to use as a human shield to block the Kronos gunfire. The medic detaches a small, silver cylinder from his belt, at the flick of his wrist, the cylinder extends into a seven-foot-long staff. He flips over the leader and slams one end of his staff onto a Kronos soldier’s head, the impact coupled with the powerful electric charge that activates upon contact with the ends of the staff knock the man out. He twirls the staff expertly, using the electric field that is generated by the spinning to reflect bullets. Once close enough to the Kronos squad, Simon swings his staff, utilizing both ends to take down all eight men remaining in less than ten seconds.
“I knew there was a reason I kept you on my payroll,” Sandor says as he climbs to his feet.
“Are you alright?” Simon asks.
“I’m fine,” Sandor says. “Dr. Invictus isn’t.”
“A casualty,” Simon says. “We need to keep going.”
“You’re a cold son of a bitch, you know that?” Sandor asks. “No idea how you bullshitted being nice long enough to become a medic.”
Simon shrugs, “I’m cold, but it keeps me alive.”
“I hope that your coldness can keep me alive. Let’s go.”
They climb inside an armored sedan and speed away from the tower. As Simon drives, Sandor pulls out his phone and calls the only Invincible he has the number of in his personal cell phone.
After six rings, the phone is picked up, “Hey, you just called me, and this is crazy, but I just picked up, so don’t disappoint me,” Demoness sings. “That last part didn’t rhyme that well, but the rest of it was fire. Anyway, what’s up, dog?”
“Demoness, this is Sandor,” Sandor says. “I just escaped the tower with Simon.”
“Cool beans. Where are Kaiju and Dr. Invictus?”
“Kaiju was wounded and he told us to leave him behind, the Kronos soldiers got Dr. Invictus.”
“His name translates to ‘Invincible’ and this is the third time he’s gotten killed in less than a month. Wait, how did you and Simon get out if they got Dr. Invictus?”
“Well, it turns out that I lied; Simon isn’t just a medic, he’s a former Navy SEAL and I had him in the tower as an undercover guard just in case something like this ever happened.”
“I knew there was something fishy about that guy . . . no one who’s last name is ‘Lukaterro’ is just a normal person.”
“Demoness. Focus.”
“Right. Where are you and Simon heading?”
“Simon, where are we going?” Sandor asks, covering the phone.
“I actually don’t know,” Simon says. “I’m just trying to get some distance between us and the tower.”
“I don’t know,” Sandor says into the phone. “Neither does Simon.”
“You guys don’t have a safehouse or something?”
“If Kronos got into the tower, then we can’t rely on the safehouses remaining uncompromised.”
“You know where Titan and I live, you could head there.”
“I’d rather not; if Kronos is tracking this car then I don’t want them knowing where you two live.”
“In that case, go to Goodwater, head up to the suburbs and look for a bar and grill called the Reunion. The bartender’s name is Reggie, tell him that you two need a place to hide and he’ll help you out.”
“Your safehouse is in a bar?”
“It’s a grill, too. Reggie gets all butt-hard if you forget that there’s a grill.”
“What if Reggie says no?”
“Just look him dead in the eyes, say ‘Remember Ruby?’ and then jump up and click your heels. Then he’ll know that we sent you and that you’re chill.”
“This isn’t the time for jokes.”
“I am one hundred percent not joking around. Just do what I said, exactly how I said it and we’ll come get you when we’re done with the Kronos guys.”
“How is that going?”
“Very well. Just took down another squad.”
“While you were on the phone?”
“I’m telekinetic, pyrokinetic, and energy-projection-kinetic, remember?”
“Last one’s still not a word,” Titan says, faintly audible through the phone.
“Yeah, well, I still don’t care,” Demoness says. “I should go, Titan gets cranky when we’re fighting goons and I’m not paying attention. Bye-bye.”
Before Sandor can say good-bye, Demoness hangs up. He sighs and turns to Simon, “Demoness and Titan have a safehouse we can use. It’s in the Goodwater suburbs; a bar called the Reunion.”
“Did they give us an address?” Simon asks.
“No.”
“Great. Well then how do we find it?”
“The Goodwater suburbs have sixty-two buildings, last time I checked. And sixty of them are houses. Out of the two remaining, which are a grocery store and the Reunion, I think we should be able to find it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“At ease, Lukaterro. You just saved my life, we should be familiar now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sandor sighs, “You really don’t understand this familiarity stuff, do you?”
“No, sir.”
“Then let’s just drive in silence, shall we?”
“If you say so, sir.”
“It’s going to be a long drive,” Sandor mutters under his breath as he turns to look out the window.
The Reunion
September 3rd
Reggie Roger Reagan IV is used to weird things happening inside his bar and grill. The inside of the dingy, dirty, two-story, and poorly-lit bar has four booths along one wall, the bar with ten barstools around it in the center, and the bathrooms along the other wall on the bottom floor. The top floor has seven rooms that a patron with enough money to blow on an overpriced, under-furnished room can rent. Each room is barely bigger than a prison cell and contains nothing other than a bed as far as furniture is concerned; there is not even electricity upstairs.
A very simple establishment, but the Reunion has been home to more oddities than Reggie cares to count, however, what has happened in the past two days takes it all. On the first day two men in suits came in, one of them, the old one, used the signal for an agreement that Reggie has not thought about in a long time. They got a room, a meal, and the complete anonymity that the signal details. On the next day, his two favorite patrons, Belle and Chris, entered and invoked the same signal, only they chos
e to share a room. On the same day, a man that he could have sworn was billionaire entrepreneur Lester Hancock requested a room for himself and another for the one-eyed man who accompanied him. Today, not five minutes ago, a blind man who did not use a cane or dog entered the bar with a slightly overweight man in a wheelchair and each of them requested a room. And all of these peculiar people somehow know each other.
Not that Reggie is complaining, the last time he had all seven rooms filled was when a troupe of acrobatic transvestites came to Goodwater for the annual Pride parade. Since the signal only provides one free night and one free meal and since none of his patrons have left other than the old guy who makes a lot of phone calls, his profits have been skyrocketing. Normally, the only patrons he gets are Belle and Chris on Saturday nights except the rare occasions in which a tourist strays far enough from the main city to reach the suburbs. Now, for the last two days, he has been making four hundred percent of his usual profits. It is a good week to be Reggie Roger Reagan IV. From the way things are shaping up, however, it might not be the best week for the rest of the world.
“The generator is safe,” Sandor says, getting off the phone for the fifteenth or so time.
“Cool beans,” Belle says. “Why don’t we head back?”
“The tower is still vulnerable,” Simon explains. “Until we can get sufficient personnel to guard the tower and figure out how Kronos managed to ambush us, Invincibles Tower is still classified as a compromised location.”
“Do we have the generator brought here?” Chris asks.
“Too unsafe,” Dr. Pryce says. “There’s nowhere for us to take it.”
“We can take it to my estate,” Lester offers. “It’s certainly big enough.”
“You’re forgetting something vital,” Dick points out. “We don’t even have the Falcon.”
“Or Kaiju, for that matter,” Frank says. “I looked for him, but he wasn’t where you told me you left him.”
“And I’m going to need an android,” Dr. Pryce says.
“Now we know what we have to do,” Sandor says. “Lester, arrange for the generator to be taken to the McMann estate, Belle, Chris go get the Falcon from the tower. No barrel rolls, please. Frank, Dick, track down Kaiju. Dr. Pryce, can you get an android?”