by Drew Hayes
“Why are you nervous? You’ve actually had real fights already. Two of them, in fact. I’m the rookie.” Irene had been added to “his and Ren’s team” (Apollo’s choice of words, not Donald’s) earlier in the week. Ostensibly, it was to even out their lineup, as Donald was primarily good at ranged combat and Ren only fought in melee. Irene could take either position to back them up as needed. Unfortunately, all of that was theoretical as she’d never gotten the chance to test her powers outside a training ground.
“To be honest, it’s the waiting that’s getting to me,” Donald admitted. He looked around the sparse room they were in, stocked only with water, sodas, and energy bars. It was where they’d been instructed to wait until their deployment orders came, and with every passing minute, it felt more and more like some gray-carpeted prison cell. “The other times I fought, there wasn’t really a chance to think about it. I just sort of got thrown into battle. Criminals broke into my office, a monster appeared at the club we were at, stuff just happened. This is the first time I’ve had to sit around and contemplate what’s coming.”
“None of us knows what’s coming,” Ren said. He’d been pacing the room; his own tension wasn’t suited to being bottled up while sitting around. “It might be simple rescue work. Lifting beams, clearing rubble, moving people to safety. We’ve already debuted, so there’s no need for us to put on any sort of show.”
“Only some of us have debuted,” Irene muttered, crossing her arms as she looked away. Donald and Ren exchanged a brief, uncomfortable look. Neither of them was so dense that they hadn’t realized Apollo seemed to favor them over the other candidates, but it wasn’t until Irene was brought on board that they started to see how big the gap was. None of the others were getting personal coaching sessions, or hand-picked code names, or high-level consulting. The only reason Irene was ready to go in the first place was that once Apollo had chosen her to join them, he’d fast-tracked her through all the setup processes so she’d be prepared.
“I’m sure that whatever Apollo sends us out to do, it will be the right assignment,” Donald said. “Both for you to get your name out there, and for us to do our part in keeping the world safe. He hasn’t steered us wrong yet.”
“If it’s another weird rhino-monster, I just hope this time I can get a few licks in.” Ren flashed Donald a smile that, while technically more animal than human, still managed to convey a sense of friendship. At least, it did for Donald. From the way Irene stiffened up next to him, she might only have gotten the surface appearance of a monster bearing its fangs.
“You’ll have to move quickly,” Donald replied. He gently patted the computer on his wrist, inside of which were dozens of items available at a touch. “I’ve been leveling up these bad boys all week. This time, I could get it in one shot.”
“Big talk, but let’s see how big those shots are,” Ren said.
“Just stay clear when I get going. I doubt even you want to try and shrug off one of these blasts.”
“That goes for both of you on my front,” Irene said. “I’m a good shot but not a great one, and I’ve always been a fan of the ‘spray and pray’ philosophy on ranged combat.”
“Don’t worry, Ren’s pretty quick when he needs to be,” Donald assured her. “And if I’m in your field of targets, then things have already gone really freaking wrong.”
“Freaking?” Ren asked, lifting a furry eyebrow.
Donald shrugged. “We’re supposed to be superheroes, you know? I figured I’d try to get in the habit of not cursing while I was in costume.”
“Well, shut down the papers. We’ve got another Lodestar on our hands, folks!” Though Irene’s words were snippy, there was humor in them, which put Donald’s stomach at ease. The more they could come together as a team, the better a chance they stood once they finally had to leave this room.
* * *
Art, aside from being a risky fiscal investment and a difficult market to predict, was also a thief’s best friend. Jewels had only as much inherent value as one gave them, which was technically true for all things but always seemed a bit truer when dealing with shiny rocks. Pottery and sculpture, priceless though they could be, were also a pain in the ass to transport and lost nearly all value with the slightest scratch or ding. Fossils and prehistoric relics were often too cumbersome to carry and had a black market audience limited to the rich with odd tastes and mad scientists trying to clone extinct species.
But the paintings of masters respected through the ages, those were nearly as good as stealing cash. Better, in fact, because a painting worth hundreds of thousands of dollars could be carefully rolled into a tube, whereas carrying that much in physical currency would get very tiring very quickly. Plus, there was always a market for the classics thanks to an abundance of wealthy people who would happily hide away such treasures for their own enjoyment. Unlike jewels, which really only held worth when they could be shown off, a painting was something that could be appreciated in secret and therefore its high price tag was justified.
The Dash City Museum knew all of this, of course, which was why the truly priceless pieces were under so much security that even a poorly aimed, particularly forceful sneeze would send a dozen automated security measures into effect. The museum had spared no expense, protecting paintings that would fetch millions of dollars on the black market with an almost equally costly system designed to stop all but the most powerful criminals. And that was why the four villains clustered together in the main wing of the “Famous Painters through the Ages” section weren’t so much as even glancing at those priceless artworks.
“Okay, I’ve got my remote system access set up,” Hephaestus announced at last, looking up from the small tablet she’d produced from one of her suit’s dozens of compartments. “The USB will melt once we’re done, which means we don’t need to go back for it. As soon as I try to trick the system, we’re back on the clock.”
“I really hope you pull this off,” Pest Control said. He’d taken the large tubular holster off his back and laid it on the ground. Inside were four smaller plastic tubes, though these lacked the strap to wrap around someone’s chest. “Our Plan B here is really shitty.”
“Speak for yourself. I think I can cut them out faster than she can hack them free,” Bahamut replied. Currently, she was a green dragon who lumbered over them, ready for the event that the hacking plan failed and they had to finish things off with a smash and grab. It was far from ideal, as such a tactic would alert the authorities, leave evidence, and perhaps get them pursued, but it was much better than going back to the guild empty-handed.
“It should work,” Hephaestus said, though whether she was trying to convince herself or her team was up for debate. “These displays sometimes get changed out, so the system has releases built in for when that happens. Now, the really high-end stuff requires, like, ten layers of verification, but they move around these lesser exhibits all the time as new pieces come in. I should be able to dupe the system.”
Hephaestus looked up from her tablet, waiting for more questions or comments, only to realize that everyone was staring back at her. There was nothing else to say unless she wanted to change the plan. She didn’t, not only because working her magic with her left hand had been a pain in the ass, but rather because she didn’t have a better one to offer up. It was all on her. If she outsmarted the system, they got a nice payday. If she’d failed to account for something or the security was better than her trickery, things were about to get really hectic, really fast.
All worrying would do was waste their precious time, though. Hephaestus clicked the startup sequence for her program, began to say a prayer, and then realized that stealing probably wasn’t the sort of thing one was supposed to turn to the heavens for help with.
She held her breath instead as the sequences played out on her screen. Her mind flashed back to that night at Indigo Technologies when she’d let her arrogance lead her right into an inescapable trap. She’d worked so hard and come so far sinc
e then, but it was always possible she’d made another mistake. This time, if she failed, the alarm would trip and her villainy would be over before it had really begun. She waited to hear the telltale screech of high-pitched sirens screaming through the air, all but ruining their chances of—
Whoosh.
The airlock on one of the nearest paintings, a carefully-chosen target selected for its recent upswing in value thanks to shifting tastes in the art world, released loudly as the frame pulled slightly away from the canvas. Glyph didn’t hesitate, hurrying over and carefully slipping the artwork from under its case. He rolled it delicately as he walked, placing it into one of the four smaller tubes that Pest Control had already prepared, then stowing that in the larger transport tube.
By the time he was done, the second painting’s airlock had released, and Pest Control was already on it. Bahamut sat nearby, ready to act if this went awry, but with every passing second, it was beginning to seem like they wouldn’t need Plan B after all.
Hephaestus breathed a long sigh of relief as the third airlock released. Three down, one to go, and then phase two would be complete.
Chapter 66
“Apollo, there’s something you need to see.” Stalwart Iron wasn’t frantic. He didn’t raise his voice. In fact, he made no effort to seem like he was showing the glowing superhero anything more than a routine bit of data that might warrant his attention. This, this was why Apollo liked dealing with the electronic people of the world; they were so much more dependable than the emotional human ones.
“Sure thing.” Apollo made his way over slowly, then leaned down to look at the screens in front of Stalwart Iron once more. “What have you got for me?”
“Well, since narrowing down the target to Dash City, I’ve been monitoring the security of everywhere that might prove a lucrative target,” Stalwart Iron explained. “But on top of that I’ve also been checking on the subroutines and basic system functions to see if I caught anything out of the ordinary. Two minutes ago, I believe that effort paid off. Despite the late hour, it seems someone at the Dash City Museum has just authorized the changing out of four paintings from their protective cases.”
“Someone hacked a Level Three system? That’s impressive,” Apollo said, quickly realizing the implication.
“Yes and no. Though the overall system is rated at three, certain components are more extensive than others,” Stalwart Iron explained. “The paintings in question are considered less valuable and therefore don’t have as many layers of protection as the ones with a larger monetary or cultural value.”
“I see, so they didn’t go for one big score. They decided to make it up in volume.” Apollo’s grin was pearly white and off-putting in its ferocity, the sort of expression he would never have allowed the cameras to catch a glimpse of. “Smarter than I was expecting. Good. They’ll make for worthwhile opponents. Have Bridge stop whatever she’s doing and immediately prepare for transport. Also, wait five minutes after I leave, and then tip off the Dash City media that a robbery in progress has just been stopped by superheroes from the AHC.”
“Can do,” Stalwart Iron replied. “Countdown will begin as soon as you exit the room.”
“Well then, fire it up, because I’m off to go fetch our rookies,” Apollo said. “I think it’s time we reminded that guild that they’re nothing more than rats. Smash a few heads, and the rest will scurry back to the shadows.”
* * *
“That’s all of them,” Pest Control announced, slipping the final tube into the larger container and closing the top. It let out a small puff of air as it sealed, supposedly protecting all contents inside from heat, water, air, and other possible corrosions. The tube had cost them the last of their resource money, but all had agreed it was a worthwhile purchase, just in case things went awry.
“Then phase two is done,” Hephaestus announced. “With acquisition finished, all that leaves is escape. I’m not picking up anything on the police bands about the museum, so hopefully no one knows we’re here.”
“Still, better not to take any risks.” Bahamut, now back to being human-sized, reached into her costume and pulled out the communicator Tunnel Vision had provided. “Let’s call our ride home and get out of here.”
“Not quite that easy,” Glyph said. “Remember, we can only call from secure locations, places where there’s no chance of anything being seen through the portal. We took out a lot of cameras, but in a place like this, there’s no way to be totally sure we got everything. Tunnel Vision even told us not to try it in the museum.”
“He’s right,” Hephaestus agreed. “Our best bet is probably the abandoned ice cream stand. Obviously it’s secure enough or they wouldn’t have been okay with using it for our drop off.”
Pest Control finished slipping the tube over his shoulder and strapping it firmly in place. “If that’s the case, then let’s get going. The longer we stay here, the bigger the risk.”
“Send a few scouts ahead, just to be safe,” Bahamut instructed.
“Hephaestus said the cops weren’t coming,” Glyph pointed out.
“No, I said I couldn’t hear anything that said they were coming.” Hephaestus rose from her seat, putting away her tablet and doing a quick sweep around them. Nothing stood out, even switching across different camera modes, but assuming the readings were accurate, they were still temporary at best. “That’s not the same as knowing the cops aren’t coming. Let’s spare the extra minute to send a few bugs.”
“If you two think it’s worth the time, then okay.” Pest Control lifted his arms. A dozen mosquitoes appeared in the air above him, taking off through the nearest door and heading out into the parking lot. He stood like that for several moments before lowering his hands. “They don’t see anything out there. Near as I can tell, we’ve got nothing but empty parking spaces between us and freedom.”
Part of Hephaestus tried to think of more methods they could use to assure their safety, but she knew she was drifting into paranoia. If they stood around all night, afraid to act, then they really would get caught eventually. They’d done their best to scan the area, and just because things were going well didn’t mean some sudden horror was about to fall upon them.
Still... it wouldn’t hurt to be as cautious as possible.
“Pest Control, give the tube to Bahamut before we leave.”
“Mind if I ask why first?” Pest Control said, though he did begin unslinging it from his shoulder.
“If we’re just walking across a parking lot, then it doesn’t matter who carries it,” Hephaestus replied. “But if anything goes wrong, she’s the only one of us who can take to the skies. Bahamut can—and should—get immediately clear of any situation and call Tunnel Vision for transport home. As long as none of us gets caught, we’re all fine, but if anything happens to the loot...” She didn’t bother finishing that sentence; they were all keenly aware of what would happen if they failed their test.
“Can’t say I love the idea of you taking me out of a fight,” Bahamut grumbled as she donned the tube’s strap.
“Then let’s hope I’m being pointlessly paranoid and we’re in for a three-minute walk.” Even as she said it, Hephaestus had a feeling that wouldn’t be the case. There was no factual reason to suspect their job had been compromised, except that this wasn’t just a job. It was a test. And she couldn’t imagine they would be allowed to get off quite so easily as this.
“Everyone ready?” She looked at her fellow apprentices, noting that despite getting the all clear, each looked as though they were about to step into sheer chaos. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who felt like things had gone a bit too smoothly. Good. Better they all went in with their nerves steeled and their eyes open. Even if it was just for a stroll across a parking lot.
* * *
“Why isn’t there more room in this thing?” Cold Shoulder began to squirm once more until Medley put a clawed hand gently on her shoulder.
“Sorry. Awesome Assassin Alliance is meant to be
two-player at most, so the Cloak of Rad Camouflage isn’t designed for three people.” Donald—Cyber Geek now that they were actually out in the field—sounded muffled through the helmet resting easily on his face. He’d grabbed the blaster and the blanket before armoring up since getting to his wrist display was a pain when it was covered by digitally-conjured protection.
“I still don’t get why we’re just waiting around.” Cold Shoulder wasn’t wiggling anymore, but her voice was loud enough to serve as warning to anyone who came near.
“Apollo said this gang doesn’t teleport out of secure locations,” Medley reminded her. “It’s part of their MO. So we wait, and when they come out, we take them by surprise.”
“Well, they seem to be taking their sweet—” Cold Shoulder’s voice fell silent as Cyber Geek squeezed her arm, gesturing to the figures emerging from the museum’s front entrance. Thankfully, the Cloak of Rad Camouflage only blocked visuals from one side—for them, it was like peering through a still puddle. Everything could be seen, though the view was a bit wonky.
“Remember, our goals are to capture the criminals and secure the stolen merchandise, prioritized in that order,” Cyber Geek said, repeating Apollo’s instructions almost word for word. “I can draw their attention, but that’s a lot of gap to close for you two.”
“I can cover us as we approach,” Cold Shoulder offered. To both of their surprise, the easily-annoyed meta they’d gotten to know had completely slipped away. In her place was a woman who was all business. “In fact, I can pin them in, assuming none of them have abilities that let them cut through solid ice.”
“We’re going in blind, so just do what you can and hope for the best. Draw attention until Medley is in range, and then pick them off as he keeps them distracted. And remember: nobody dies, please.” Cyber Geek leaned forward, gripping the base of blanket and bringing his massive gun to the ready. “All right, in three, two, one: Go!”