Sentinels

by Darius Brasher

  “I cannot say I am terribly surprised to hear you say that,” Cole said. “We anticipated this would be your response. Unfortunately for you, we are always a few steps ahead of you. It is why we should be in possession of the Omega weapon rather than you. You simply cannot be trusted with it. You are too weak-minded and do not think far enough ahead. If the Sentinels do not take it from you and safeguard it, some Rogue, sooner or later, will take it from you. And they will not take it for the purpose of safeguarding it.

  “Since you will not hand over the weapon voluntarily, I will instead offer you this quid pro quo: In exchange for you giving me the Omega weapon, I will in return give you Neha Thakore. Smoke, I believe her Heroic code name is. Descriptive, if unimaginative.”

  My stomach rose to my throat. My fists involuntarily clenched. “What have you done to her?” I demanded. I wanted to squeeze the life out of him.

  Cole smiled the smile of a child on Christmas Day.

  “She is unhurt. Well, mostly. She resisted when we took her into custody. She is quite the spitfire, that one. Nonetheless, she is alive and mostly well. That will change if you do not produce the Omega weapon. You have until tonight. Come to the mansion. When you hand over the weapon, we will release Ms. Thakore to you.”

  “After all you’ve done, why in the world should we believe you have Neha?” Isaac said. He looked as mad as I felt. “A murderer like you would have problem lying too.”

  Cole looked at Truman, shaking his head at Isaac’s words with mock regret. “So young, and yet so cynical.” He had the nerve to wink at Truman. “Perhaps there is hope for them yet.”

  “More for them than for you,” Truman said.

  Cole ignored that. “When I leave here, an email will be sent to Mr. Conley. Attached will be proof we have Ms. Thakore and that she is alive.”

  I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach the Sentinels really had Neha. Why else hadn’t she gotten back to Isaac? I shook with frustration and anger. “If you hurt her—”

  Cole cut me off. “You will do what?” He smiled at me indulgently, the way an adult would at a child. “Do not make threats you are completely incapable of carrying out. Oh, I have no doubt you and your friends here will mull over all kinds of plans once I leave as to how to rescue your friend while still retaining the Omega weapon. I am confident you will eventually decide to do the right thing, the only option available to you that will ensure the safety of your friend. You are thoroughly outclassed here, Mr. Conley. That is why you will do as I say and hand over the Omega weapon. Further, it is why you should hand over the Omega weapon. If the Sentinels do not take it from you, someone else surely will.

  “The exchange will take place at Sentinels Mansion at ten p.m. sharp. Come alone, and be prepared to hand over the weapon. If you don’t . . .” He trailed off. He shrugged. “Such a pretty young thing, Ms. Thakore is. She has a promising career ahead of her as a Hero. It would be a shame if something happened to her.”

  “And what of your attempt to kill Theo to force the Omega spirit into someone else?” Isaac said. “You expect us to believe you won’t still try to kill him the instant you have what you want?”

  “I have discussed that matter with my colleagues,” Cole said, as if he were a banker thinking about offering a customer a lower interest rate. “We have decided that access to the Omega weapon will be all that we will need to protect the world. Once Mr. Conley gives it to us, he will be of no further interest to us.”

  “And why should we believe you?” Isaac said. Scorn was in his voice. “Because of your sterling reputation for honesty and forthrightness?”

  “If you wish to have your friend returned to you unharmed, what choice do you have but to trust me?” Cole said bluntly.

  Cole turned as if he was going to walk out the door. He caught himself, snapped his fingers as if he remembered something, and turned back around.

  “Oh, one more thing. I said before the electronics failed as a side effect of my astral presence here. That was a tiny bit of a white lie. The truth of the matter is that once I saw where I was, I dispatched one of the drones I have scattered around the city here. It is hovering overhead as we speak. It is projecting a dampening field to prevent one of you from recording our lovely conversation.” He smiled broadly. I wished he was actually here in the flesh so I could punch his teeth down his throat. “Truman, that strikes me as being something you would be quick-witted enough to think to do. I would hate for the Guild to have evidence of my proposal. The members of the executive committee would be positively shocked to hear me threaten the life of a young Hero. I pride myself on protecting the innocent delusions of others.”

  Cole smiled his smug smile. “As I said before, you are thoroughly outclassed. Do as I tell you to do, and all will be well.” He disappeared as abruptly and soundlessly as he had arrived.

  Moments after he was gone, Truman’s lights flickered, and then came back on. If only I could get Neha back as easily. I slumped back into my chair, feeling sick to my stomach.

  “We’ll check out the email that jackass mentioned,” Truman said. “In the meantime . . .” Truman pulled his hand out of the drawer he had put his gun back into. A small electronic recorder was in his fist. With my powers, I had sensed that Truman had picked the recorder up and clicked it on when he had put his gun back into the drawer. We listened to the playback. The sound shut off right after Cole had told Truman to put his gun away, when Truman’s computer and lights had shut off. The recorder had not captured anything incriminating.

  Truman shut the recorder off in disgust. He looked like he wanted to throw it against the wall.

  “So much for us having proof of the Sentinels holding your friend hostage,” he said. “Without more than just our say so, the Guild would never turn against the Sentinels. And certainly not—” He paused, looking embarrassed.

  “You can say it,” I said. I was thoroughly deflated and despondent. I had the Omega weapon and Mechano had still made me feel as helpless as a baby. “And certainly not in time to save Neha.”

  “Maybe they don’t really have her,” Isaac said, though he didn’t look like he believed his own words. He moved around Truman’s desk. “Let’s check out that email.”

  Isaac turned Truman’s computer back on, and logged into my email account after I gave him my password. An email with “Neha Thakore” as the subject line had come into my inbox minutes before. We opened the email’s attachment. A soundless video began to play.

  It showed Neha sitting in a simple wooden chair in a plain white room. My heart raced at the sight of her. She was in costume, just she had been when I had seen the nightclub footage of her in the Sentinels’ Situation Room. Her costume’s cowl had been pulled off her face; it dangled below the nape of her costumed neck. A gold-colored metal encircled her mouth and head, with some of the metal in her mouth. It looked like a futuristic ball gag. Her hands were behind her back, presumably bound there. Her ankles were secured to the chair with manacles made of the same metal that was around her head. The left side of her hair, normally straight and shoulder-length, was a mess of a bird’s nest. It was matted against her head with what appeared to be dried blood. Her face was bruised, with much of her skin mottled purplish-red rather than its usual olive color. There was a shiner on her right eye that would probably swell her eye shut in a few more hours.

  On her lap was a newspaper, propped up against her torso so the video camera could see its front page. The video zoomed in on the newspaper. It was a copy of the Astor City Times bearing today’s date. I would have bet any amount of money that the use of the paper I worked for was a deliberate slap in my face.

  Then the video panned up to Neha’s face. Despite being bound and injured, Neha did not look frightened or in pain. The emotion that was on her face was pure fury. She glared at the unseen person who made the video. If looks could kill, whoever had made the recording was surely dead. I had seen her mad before, but nothing like this.

  The video fa
ded to black after less than a minute. I had Isaac play the video again a few more times. It almost physically hurt to watch it, but I forced myself. I wanted to see if there was proof in the video indicating it was the Sentinels who had taken her so we could hand the video over to the Guild. I did not spot anything. Neither did Truman or Isaac. The video could have been shot by absolutely anybody. Even the email address the video had been sent from was not a Sentinels’ address. The video had been sent from the email address of the chairman of the Guild’s executive committee. Obviously Mechano had hacked into the chairman’s email to send me this video. It must have given Mechano quite a chuckle at our expense.

  I went back around Truman’s desk and slumped into the chair there.

  “Neha must hate being held prisoner like this,” I said. I felt old and impossibly tired.

  “Who wouldn’t?” Truman asked.

  “Neha in particular hates this. Being helpless and needing someone to come rescue her?” I shook my head at how Neha must feel, knowing her as I did. “It’s eating her up inside. She doesn’t like feeling weak. She hates being forced into the role of damsel in distress.”

  “Speaking of being helpless,” Isaac said, “how do you suppose they’re preventing her from turning into gas and freeing herself?”

  “It must be the metal that’s binding her,” I said. “A similar looking metal was used on me during the Trials to suppress my powers. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Metahuman suppression technology had been invented by Mechano. So much tech the Guild relies on was.”

  “Well, we’ve established the Sentinels do indeed have your friend. The question now becomes, what do we do about it?” Truman said.

  “There’s no time to go to the Guild,” Isaac said. “Even if we had evidence to convince the Guild of the Sentinels’ crimes—and we don’t—by the time the Guild acted, Neha would be dead.” Isaac turned to look at me. “You have to give them the Omega weapon. At least for now. Once we have Neha back, we can figure out what to do next.”

  “Do you really think the Sentinels will simply hand your friend over in exchange for the Omega weapon, say ‘So long, and be sure not to talk about all the kidnapping and murdering we’ve been doing,’ and let the four of us go on our merry way?” Truman shook his head. “It’s far more likely that once they have the Omega weapon in their possession, they’ll kill both Theo and Neha, both to keep them quiet and to free the Omega spirit up to enter someone who might be more compliant than Theo is. I don’t believe for a second they’ll leave him alone. He knows too much. As do you and I. Once they dispose of Neha and Theo, they’ll come after us. Even if we don’t have proof of what they have done, I can’t imagine the Sentinels letting Heroes with direct knowledge of their wrongdoing continue to walk around, potentially making trouble for them.”

  “We’re going to have to take that risk,” Isaac insisted. “If we don’t, Neha will die for sure. How these three Sentinels have behaved in the past indicates they’re not bluffing about killing her if we don’t do what they say.”

  “Enough,” I said, tired of all the yammering. I had said it low, almost to myself. I was so mad at the Sentinels, so afraid of what they might do to Neha, and so sick of evil people getting away with being evil.

  “Let her die,” Truman said. Isaac looked at him like Truman had gone crazy. “I know it sounds harsh, you’re letting the fact she’s your friend cloud your thinking. Smoke is a Hero. She knows the risk of putting on a cape and costume. It’s better to let one person die than let something as powerful as the Omega weapon fall into the hands of these Sentinels. The kind of mischief they’re already capable of is considerable. What terrible things would they do with the Omega weapon to boost their already considerable power? Even the rest of the Sentinels combined with the Guild might not be able to stand against them. We have to look at the big picture, not focus exclusively on the welfare of a single person.”

  “Enough,” I said, louder this time. My anger was a grumbling volcano that threatened to erupt. First Dad, then Hannah, now Neha. I was sick and tired of people being hurt because of me.

  “Are you insane?” Isaac shouted. His face was red. He thrust it into Truman’s in anger. “We’re not going to just sit here and let them kill her. If you knew her, you wouldn’t be so willing to throw her to the wolves.”

  Truman did not recoil from Isaac’s indignation. “The welfare of the many is more important than the welfare of a single person,” he insisted firmly but calmly.

  My anger churned in my stomach like lava. The volcano mounting within me exploded. I shot to my feet.

  “I said enough!” I shouted. I wasn’t sure if I was talking to Isaac and Truman, or to the wider world that allowed innocents to be hurt and killed. I slapped my hand on top of Truman’s desk in anger. It boomed like a clap of thunder. Truman’s thick wooden desk split in two. It collapsed in on itself with a crash like a demolished building. The computer, books, and files on his desk fell. It all made a racket as it hit the floor. Papers went flying like confetti.

  Inadvertently, I had obviously let a bit of my new power slip out of me, like an adolescent boy who’s not yet accustomed to his growing body’s newfound strength.

  Isaac took a step back. He stared at me as if he had never seen me before. Even Truman, normally unflappable, was startled. He looked at me, down at his now ruined desk, and then back up at me. Finally, he shook his head.

  “I never liked that desk anyway. I’m glad to be rid of it,” he said. “Now that you’ve finished redecorating my office, what are you doing to do about Neha?”

  “I’m going to do what I have to do to get her back,” I said.

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized I did not just mean get her back from the Sentinels. I also meant get her back into my life. Other than the Omega weapon, I had gotten something equally powerful from the Omega spirit’s test: Crystal clear memories of my romantic life with Neha. As if the events actually had happened, I remembered us dating, me shopping for an engagement ring, me proposing, her saying yes, our wedding, our wedding night, the night our son James was conceived, the morning he was born, and so many other wondrous memories. Though they had not really happened, it felt like they had. I would cherish them until the day I died.

  The memories of my married life with Neha reinforced to me that I loved her with all my being. I had been a fool to not reconcile with her before now. I would rescue her from the Sentinels. Then, I would make new memories with her. Real ones.

  But first, I needed to tie up a loose end.

  CHAPTER 25

  Antonio stirred a bit on the floor. Though his eyes were closed, I had been monitoring his pulse with my telekinetic touch. The rate of his pulse had just spiked. It told me that Antonio was now conscious and just playing possum.

  I reached out with my telekinesis and nudged him. He yelped in pain, rolled over, and sat up. From his perspective, the nudge likely felt like a swift kick to the ribs. I was sick of playing games and pussy-footing around. It was not too long before I needed to meet with the Sentinels.

  Bleary-eyed and confused, Antonio looked around. He rubbed his side where I had prodded him. He had on faded blue jeans, moccasins, and a red plaid shirt. His too-tight shirt stretched out over his belly, making him look like he had swallowed a cannonball.

  “Where the fuck am I?” he demanded in his surprisingly high-pitched voice. He had put on weight since I had last seen him in his apartment what seemed like forever ago. The extra pounds appeared to all have landed in his belly. He obviously hadn’t shaved his head in several days. There was a wide crescent of stubble on the sides and back of his head, and none from his forehead to his crown. Antonio must have gotten into the habit of shaving his head so people wouldn’t know he was balding.

  Though Antonio was as big and scary-looking as I remembered, it was hard to be intimidated by someone with male pattern baldness who looked pregnant. Harder still when you wore the Omega suit.

  �
�You are in a place high up in the middle of the Himalayas,” I said. “It’s called The Mountain.” Thanks to the Omega suit’s malleability, I had fashioned a cowl that covered my head and features. I also had on a white cape. More often than not, a cape got in the way. Wearing one now seemed appropriate, though, like a judge donning his robe before he presided over a sentencing hearing.

  Antonio unsteadily got to his feet.

  “How the fuck did I get here?”

  I could have told him that I had flown from Astor City to the small village in Italy Truman had told me Antonio was hiding out in. With my powers augmented as they were by the Omega suit, the journey had taken me a tiny fraction of the time it normally would have. I could have said that I then located Antonio and knocked him out with my powers before he or anyone else spotted me. I could have told him that I then flew him from Italy to The Mountain. It had all been child’s play thanks to the Omega suit.

  I could have said all that, but why bother? Instead, I simply shrugged.

  “I’m a Hero,” I said.

  “And who the fuck are you?” If you eliminated the F-bomb from Mad Dog’s vocabulary, he likely would be at a loss for words.

  “My name is Omega.”

  “And that’s supposed to fuckin’ mean something to me?”

  “We’ve met before, though I don’t expect you to recognize me.” With a thought, the cowl slid off my head and melted into the rest of the Omega suit, like the dry ground sucking up raindrops. My face was now fully exposed to Antonio. “My name is Theodore Conley. I was a friend and co-worker of your girlfriend Hannah Kim. My friend and I spoke in your apartment to you about her before you murdered her.”

  “Murdered? I didn’t murder nobody.” I didn’t need my powers to tell me he lied. It was written all over his face. My powers did confirm, though, that he was in fact lying.

  “It doesn’t matter what you say,” I said. “I know you killed her. Which is why you’re here.”