West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide

by Johnson-Weider, K. M.

  “Ah…yes…but my gravity powers might be able to lift it,” offered Larry, looking sidelong at Dr. Brandeis who shook his head. “Or perhaps my gravity powers have been neutralized by the dampening field… ”

  “What are you talking about?” broke in Cliff suspiciously. “I don’t think you’re really Dr. Wraith at all. You’re like an idiot or something! Dr. Wraith has death rays, not gravity powers. And what the hell is this about a dampening field?”

  “My death rays are gravity-powered,” improvised Larry. “Don’t question me again or I will melt that feeble mass you call a brain!”

  “Shut up you two!” snapped Erica.

  “Hold on, Erica, the lift equipment is here – Gregory can probably use it, so let’s load it ourselves,” said Dr. Brandeis. Ian had told him that when people start questioning the chain of command, you deluge them with busy work; plus it might actually work.

  “How long will it take, Gregory?” asked Erica.

  “An hour to do it safely, 20 minutes if you want it rushed,” said Gregory, heading towards the controls for the lift equipment - winches, chains, and robotic arms - arranged along the ceiling of the room. “The chains and links are already on the device so that should speed things up.”

  “Alright, Erica and Cliff secure the perimeter. Yuri and Kill O’Watts, you help Gregory load it up and I’ll check the QHRA to make sure it’s ready to be moved,” said Dr. Brandeis, who felt in control of the situation again. Sure a guard had died, but you couldn’t make geological history without breaking a few eggs, plus he would pester Ian to make sure the guard’s family was compensated for his death. Ian had promised to take care of Pam if anything happened to him, but life was full of risks – that’s what made it exciting.

  He climbed up to get a closer look at the QHRA. The final product, which he had indirectly helped to design, was impressive. He knew it by heart; it was the key to their whole plan. Hopefully it would work. He checked the power amplifier and spatial inverter that Consolidated Technologies had built. He heard the lift equipment working and saw the cranes moving into position. He moved over to help clip one massive toggle hook to the chains around the QHRA. Yuri and Kill O’Watts were helping with the other ones and moving faster than Dr. Brandeis, so he stepped away to let them take over and to also get away from the nearly eight tons of metal that would soon be swinging from chains.

  It was all coming together…and then another security guard entered the room. Dr. Brandeis wondered what the hell was up with all these security guards – weren’t they supposed to just eat donuts and watch the video monitors! Erica shot the guard in the head with one shot. It was a gruesome sight, with stuff flying out the back of the skull. Dr. Brandeis nearly vomited and instinctively touched the back of his own head. He did realize though that Erica had established dominance again over Cliff: she killed her guard with one shot to the head. It was a little scary to Dr. Brandeis that he was following this, but then he had minored in anthropology in college.

  “Time is running out,” yelled Erica.

  “Indeed,” said Gregory. “I can sense them going through the video feeds – they’re looking for trouble.”

  Dr. Brandeis could guess why. Bad Luck had been foiled and were no doubt causing mayhem, but the main team was behind schedule and that spelled trouble. The Cosmopolis Police Department would soon be here; that was not good. People were dying and he was going to prison. He started to feel faint and then the ground moved. More accurately, the QHRA was lifted off the landing area and moved to the tractor-trailer, which caused the platform to lift a little as the weight moved off of it. Once it was set down, Erica started yelling. “Alright, we’re out of here! Cliff, Yuri, Watts, anchor the device. Dr. Wraith up on the trailer, Dr. B up in the cabin with Gregory. Let’s move!”

  Dr. Brandeis didn’t need any more direction. He climbed off the platform and raced to the passenger seat in the cabin of the tractor-trailer. Gregory was already climbing into the driver’s seat and seemed to be starting it up mentally. Of course, if Gregory was killed, then Dr. Brandeis would be expected to drive the tractor-trailer. He had been spending several hours a week learning how to drive a tractor-trailer; it had been empowering, he could see the allure of being a trucker. You lorded over the road like an ancient king. A big truck wasn’t just a truck – it was like a train or battleship.

  Soon the doors of the loading area were opening. Two security guards rushed into the room at the same time as the tractor-trailer headed to the main loading doors, which Erica was opening. The guards were dropped before they could even process the situation. One was shot by Cliff, the other electrocuted by a bolt of lightning from Kill O’Watts that boomed throughout the area. The tractor-trailer moved out of the loading area and began accelerating towards the east gate; it was the only gate not to have installed barriers that could be raised and lowered. Alarms were now sounding, which wasn’t good, but right now there was nothing to stop the tractor-trailer. They barreled towards and then through the east gate. It was exhilarating. Gregory was laughing maniacally and put in a CD that started playing some loud obnoxious music, but it did seem to fit the situation. Dr. Brandeis let out a cheer. The truck was moving away from the complex.

  Then stepping out a bit ahead was a black woman, long black hair, shiny black costume with a white star on her chest, and swirling black clouds around her. Dr. Brandeis recognized her, but his mind froze trying to put a name to the face, or more accurately the costume, since the face was currently covered in a mask.

  Gregory hit the brakes and the tractor-trailer screeched to a halt.

  Dr. Brandeis screamed “Run her over!” That had been the plan if they encountered any problems; the last thing they were supposed to do was stop.

  “Are you insane?!” snapped Gregory. “That’s Nebula - she can create a laser beam that would slice us all in half!” Now Dr. Brandeis remembered. Nebula was a member of the Ultimate League. She couldn’t fly and wasn’t a speedster, but she could absorb matter and convert it into deadly energy effects.

  Larry yelled out, now fully embracing his part, “Nebula, move aside! Dr. Wraith has come!”

  From his perch on the back of the tractor-trailer, Cliff unloaded his rifle at Nebula. The bullets flew at her, but with a wave of her hand she changed them into a black smoke that merged with the black clouds circling her. Then she pointed at Cliff and Dr. Wraith and a beam of black light flared out. Dr. Brandeis looked in the side mirror and saw Cliff’s rifle-holding arm get sliced off; both Cliff and his arm dropped off the tractor-trailer. He then saw Larry’s head and shoulders roll down the windshield and fall somewhere in front.

  Nebula started walking towards the tractor-trailer. Kill O’Watts unleashed a massive bolt of lightning, which battered down Nebula’s defenses enough to send her flying back. Erica finally caught up with the tractor-trailer and climbed up outside the driver’s side of the cabin. “Drive!” she ordered.

  “We aren’t going to make it if the Ultimate League is on us, are we?” asked Dr. Brandeis as the tractor-trailer turned down a street for one of their secondary routes. Kill O’Watts kept blasting to put Nebula on the defensive. She did manage to flare out once with a laser beam that cut into the QHRA.

  “No, but we go to Plan C,” said Erica, pulling out her HoloBerry and hitting a few buttons. Seconds later the power started to go out across the city. “Dynamic Solutions manages several power production facilities in Cosmopolis and a ‘virus’ just hit them.”

  “I’m impressed,” said Gregory. “That should tie up the CPD and the Ultimate League for a little while, but they’re going to be out in force pretty quickly. But… Dr. Wraith is dead?”

  “Ah, just that corporeal form,” said Dr. Brandeis quickly; he didn’t know how the death of Larry factored into their plan. His body, well part of it, would soon be in police custody and then there was Cliff, who might have survived as well. It had not been the clean get-away they’d hoped for.

  “In forty-five minutes
we’ll be rolling out of the city in a completely different truck and in two hours we will be on the way to West Pacific,” said Erica. She sounded confident but Dr. Brandeis was pretty sure that she was actually more than a little worried.

  Soon Gregory had pulled the tractor-trailer into the warehouse they had set aside for the transfer. Thirty minutes later, the QHRA was loaded into a Cosmic Burger truck and moving south on I-380. Erica, who was looking much more relaxed now, was driving the truck with Gregory in the passenger seat and Dr. Brandeis sitting behind in the sleeping compartment. Yuri and Kill O’Watts were in the back with the QHRA. “If they don’t catch you by the time you hit the interstate and go beyond the city’s borders,” said Erica, “then they aren’t going to catch you.”

  “True. So are you guys going to destroy a city or something with this thing?” asked Gregory.

  “Not quite, it’s all about real estate,” said Dr. Brandeis with a smile. “However, if you want to get in on the ground floor I think that can be arranged.” He looked at Erica who nodded an affirmative. He really had the instincts to be a mastermind.

  Chapter 13

  10:37 p.m., Sunday, April 7th, 2013

  Cosmic Burger, 34th and Mariposa

  West Pacific, CA

  Loren tried not to slurp as he drank the last of his strawberry shake. Meeting at Cosmic Burger had been Midnight’s idea, and he didn’t think it qualified as a date because they were about to go break into an apartment. Still, it was only the second time they’d ever been alone together and there was food involved, so it counted for something. She was very intense, even eating a cheeseburger, and he couldn’t help feeling intimidated by the silence. What was even more awkward was the way that the few late night customers kept staring at them. It figured that Midnight would wear her full costume even when getting fast food.

  Two nights ago, they had sneaked into the abandoned factory and assembly warehouse on Industrial Island that Mr. Awesome had been investigating the week before he died. There had apparently been a fire after Mr. Awesome left the scene, no doubt started by the villains to cover their tracks, and the cops had subsequently cleared the place of everything else of interest. There was no remaining PGZ at all, which was disappointing to Loren, who had hoped to get a chance to personally analyze a sample of the experimental explosive. According to the specs that Midnight had gotten from White Knight, PGZ was extremely volatile and powerful enough to level mountains. It had all the hallmarks of a military-grade explosive. Loren theorized that the PGZ was being prepped at the factory for shipment to China, which might be planning a full-scale Celestial invasion, but Midnight had pointed out that it would make more sense for someone to simply sell the formula to China, which could synthesize as much as they wanted themselves and without attracting as much unwanted attention. Without any new information from the factory, they had wrapped up the evening early.

  Loren had been pleasantly surprised when Midnight called him yesterday to say that she had a new lead, they should meet up Sunday night, and he should bring anything he needed to break into an apartment. He’d been stuck babysitting an open house all afternoon, and the thought of an upcoming mission had really raised his spirits. He’d carefully repacked his briefcase to make sure that he had everything he might possible need, and met her at the 34th Street Cosmic Burger promptly at 10:15 p.m.. Unfortunately, so far all that had happened was that they had ordered food and ate it in silence while Midnight occasionally looked at her wristwatch and frowned as if she were expecting an overdue call. She didn’t seem in any rush to explain what her lead or plan was and he was intimidated enough by her to not want to push the point.

  “So a whole lot of beachfront properties just came on the market,” he said, casting around for something to talk about. “I don’t know if you’re in the market for a house, but there are some genuine bargains to be had.” The words had hardly left his mouth when he realized his mistake. Dumb, dumb, dumb! She doesn’t want to hear about real estate and now you’ve blown your secret identity.

  To his surprise, she seemed interested by the news. “What kind of properties?” she asked.

  “Oh, just about anything you could want,” he told her. “I mean, it’s actually kind of a strange situation. There’s this conglomerate that’s dumping all of their beachfront and buying up undeveloped lots farther inland. I can’t quite figure out what they’re up to. But I’ve never seen prices like this. I could hook you up with a condo or a single-family home for probably half of the usual selling price, or even less. If you’ve ever considered buying a rental property, now’s the time to do it.”

  “Have you talked about this with anyone else?” she asked.

  Loren wasn’t sure where she was going with this. “Well, I mentioned it to the Trio and they’re thinking about pooling their cash to get a condo. My mom’s taking out a second mortgage so we can put a down payment on a three-bed, two-bath with an in-ground pool and a mother-in-law cottage. I never thought we’d be able to afford something like that.” If the deal went through, they would rent out their current house and he could move his lab to the mother-in-law cottage, which would be twice the space and infinitely more comfortable. He would actually have room for a real bedroom.

  “How about something larger?” Midnight asked, reaching for some cheesy fries.

  “Like a mansion?”

  Midnight nodded.

  Maybe she’s one of those rare self-made millionaires-turned-vigilante, he thought, even more intimidated now. She did have better gear than any other vigilante he knew and was as serious as they came.

  “Sure, if you’ve got the cash, there are some sweet deals to be had,” he told her. “There’s this amazing place I checked out the other day - it had fountains and everything. If I remember it right, it’s eight-bed, six-and-a-half bath, 7,000 square feet, caged heated pool, and four-car garage. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to arrange a showing.”

  She frowned. “I wouldn’t be able to come in person, of course. But perhaps you could send me the details and a video tour?”

  “Sure,” he said enthusiastically.

  “Excellent. If the price is as good as you say, then perhaps you could make an offer on my behalf and I could arrange a wire transfer to finalize the sale. Obviously the inspection would need to come up clean.” She methodically folded her sandwich wrapper and tossed it and the empty fry box into the trash can beside her.

  Loren’s eyes went wide, his mind whirling as he thought of the size of the commission involved. “Of course - I’d be thrilled to! If you’re paying cash, we can get the price even lower. I’ll get you the details tomorrow - no, tonight - after we get done here.”

  “Good,” she said, wiping her mouth carefully before pulling a small bottle off of her utility belt. “Hand sanitizer,” she commanded and he put out his hands obediently as she squeezed a small amount onto his open palm.

  Loren rubbed his hands together and considered that the real estate conversation had brought them close enough together that he could venture a question. “So what’s the plan?” he asked as casually as he could manage.

  “Trash first,” said Midnight, looking pointedly at his empty shake container.

  “Oh, right,” he said, jumping up to throw it away.

  “Very good,” she said curtly. “Yesterday, the Trio tracked down one of the individuals suspected of having been employed at the factory: Oscar Madrilènes. They discovered him at the morgue – he seems to have been killed a few days after Mr. Awesome’s incident at the factory. He had been shot several times in the face, which made identification difficult.”

  Loren shuddered, but Midnight continued unperturbed. “Another missing individual, Brian Vargas, was determined by White Knight to have been the one who provided the tip to WPS that led to Mr. Awesome’s investigation. The police have already searched his apartment, but Mr. Vargas is still at large. No doubt he is laying low in an attempt to avoid Mr. Madrilènes’ fate.

  “At precisely 10:
48p.m., we will leave this restaurant, get in your car, and proceed to Mr. Vargas’ apartment building. You will enter the building, break into apartment 432, and look for any evidence of interest: fingerprints, computer records, phone numbers, that sort of thing. Then you will exit the building and we will rendezvous to go over the information.”

  “You’re not coming in?” he asked, disappointed.

  “No,” she said. “One person is less likely to be noticed than two, especially as your clothing is much less obvious than mine. Do you think you will have any difficulty getting into the apartment?”

  “No, not at all,” he assured her. “Piece of cake.”

  “Excellent,” she said. “Very well then. Let us go.”

  It was in fact a piece of cake to walk into the apartment building and then break into apartment 432. Loren was disappointed; he was never going to impress Midnight if all the jobs they did together went off this easily. To make matters worse, the apartment, like the factory, had been cleared out, and by people who knew what they were doing. The police had been here, sure, but this was something more. The place was clean - no electronics, hardly any furniture, not even fingerprints left on the shower curtain. He felt he’d reached a new low when the security officer actually held the lobby door open for him as he left and told him to have a good evening. Loren nodded but he felt too glum to smile back. He had gathered absolutely no intelligence at all.

  He walked towards where he’d left his car and was startled to see that it was gone. His first instinct was that it had been stolen, which would totally suck, but then he remembered that Midnight had been sitting in the driver’s seat, prepared to drive getaway in case the break-in went poorly. Clearly she had driven off somewhere. If Midnight was a self-made millionaire she would hardly need to steal his old car, so that didn’t make sense, but this hadn’t been part of the plan.

  As he was wondering what to do, his phone rang. It was Midnight.