by Joel Burdick
Without the dispersion field, Anansi wouldn't be able to fight him hand to hand, but maybe he wouldn't have to.
[You keyed the entire electro-shock core project to Shockwave. Assuming that because Shockwave's invulnerability comes from a natural psionic field-] Anansi cleared the message without acknowledging the rest of it.
“Yeah, I know, huge risk, but it paid off. The plan now is to get him with the second Tar Baby and make sure we get his wings this time.” Anansi drew three more grenades from his rig, placing cores in each one and rolling them to different places, one down the right side of the hallway, one the left, and one back the way he had come. An image of him standing and facing towards him appeared in the middle of the hallway right over one of the grenades. He set out more grenades and began loading cores into them while he watched down the hall.
Archangel walked around the corner at the far end of the hallway, pausing when he saw the hologram of Anansi standing in the middle. The hologram turned to face Archangel, who sneered and threw a chunk of wall at it. The hologram disappeared in a flash as if teleporting away, the grenade blowing up at the same time. With a similar flash of light, another hologram appeared over the second core, down the right side of the hallway.
“You're going to run out of tricks eventually, Anansi,” Archangel called, ripping another chunk of plaster from the wall and throwing it with enough force that it would certainly injure if it hit. The hologram blinked out as its exploded, appearing to dodge the plaster again. “And when you run out of tricks, that's when I win.” Archangel pulled another chunk of plaster from the wall while the holographic Anansi gave him the finger. “Because without your tricks, you're just another norm punk without any real power.”
He pitched the plaster chunk at the holographic Anansi which appeared to hit this time, sending it onto its back. Archangel lunged forward, landing with his feet planted directly beside the holograph's chest. “Checkmate, punk,” he said and punched into the hologram's head.
“My thoughts exactly,” stated Anansi as he detonated the grenades he tossed up. Archangel looked down in disbelief as the hologram winked out, leaving just a crater in the floor. The grenades spun in the air, spraying black goo as they did, covering the man again, and this time coating his wings as well. Archangel roared and struggled against the Tar Baby, but this time, each pull, each attempt at escape pulled him tighter and tighter down to the floor until his face was adhered to the tile and half covered in the goop.
Anansi plopped down onto the ground out of sight of the enraged super and opened a channel to Mantis. When the static cleared, he said “Target down. You?”
“Target down on this end as well. How much collateral did you inflict?” Mantis responded. The verbal jab was spoken with a tone of irritation, and Anansi sighed.
“I didn't cause nearly as much as Mister Feathers. Do you have cuffs for him? I kinda glued him to the floor.”
“I'm not even going to ask,” she replied. The connection broke for a second. “Yes,” she said, when it came back. “Stone says we have something that should hold him. Already coming to you.”
“Just follow the broken walls,” Anansi said and signed out, leaning back against the wall and letting his eyes shut as he caught his breath. Now came the easy part of the plan, the turn in.
Anansi hoped it wouldn't be as complicated as this part of the plan.
Chapter 16
June 13, 2017
“This is going too smoothly,” Anansi said as the Cicada touched down on the White House helipad. Mantis sat beside him, watching out the viewscreen at the dozens of Secret Service agents in matching black suits and sunglasses carrying assorted assault rifles, handguns, and submachine guns. Several also seemed to have grenade launchers and shotguns. Floodlights illuminated the whole area in the predawn darkness.
“You're someone who tried to assassinate the last president and just took out the strongest super that has ever been in direct government employ. I'm disappointed to see the lack of security,” Mantis said, indicating the lack of obvious supers in the security detail.
“Exactly. There are six teams that work this area and have proven discreet and trustworthy in the past within an hour's flight from here. Why are none of them here?”
[Maybe because you have just proven yourself competent and trustworthy by mostly discreetly ridding the government of a rather painful political nightmare?] Kay sent, printing the words on the screen in the instrument panel so both of them could see it. Anansi snorted and unplugged himself from the panel, allowing the cord to retract into his helmet.
“I'm not feeling it. Stay on your toes.”
Anansi lead the way down the stairs, Archangel and Spark following in manacles, Stone and Mantis taking up the rear, Stone in his human form and wearing a black suit. He looked most in place out of all of them.
They approached the presidential escort slowly until they were stopped by burly Secret Service agents, one of whom was a woman. “Please submit to a pat down.” Anansi chuckled and opened his duster, revealing a half dozen grenades, cores, and technical devices.
“Only if you're frisking me, doll,” he said as the Secret Service agents all drew weapons on him. He raised his hands, letting the coat close again. “Woah, woah, I was invited here.”
“No weapons inside,” the female agent said in a tone brooking no argument. Anansi shrugged.
“I'm not giving them to you lot, if that's what you're thinking. You'll take them to the tech goons and tear them apart and I'll never see them again, and five years down the road when you finally reverse engineer them, you'll come at me with my own stuff.”
Mantis hit Anansi on the shoulder. “Play nice. They're just doing their job,” she said. She unslung her submachine gun and handed it to one of the male agents, followed by her pistols and three knives she had concealed on her person, and finally her helmet. She presented herself to the female agent, who conducted a pat down. She nodded when she was complete and let Mantis step past.
“I'll just ditch most of this in the Cicada. I'd feel better that way,” Anansi said, turning and walking back across the landing zone to the plane.
Several minutes later he reemerged from within, showing an empty rig to the assembled agents, and submitted to a pat down with only minimal jokes. When the pat down was complete, finding no knives, guns, grenades, or gadgets that looked particularly dangerous, Anansi was allowed to join the agents of SHIP and was led off of the helipad and into the White House.
Contrary to every television show ever, it gave the appearance of being empty. Anansi leaned over as they walked, closer to Mantis. “Is it usually this empty?”
“No, they probably gave everyone the day off so they could conduct this a bit more quietly. It's also two in the morning, local time. Most people are home asleep.” Anansi nodded, leaning back over to walk straight again, but he noted that Mantis seemed nervous. He didn't want to let on that he felt the same way. Something stunk about this whole situation.
“Want to get a drink after this? Seeing as you're going to be a pardoned man?” Mantis said, bumping Anansi with her hips as they walked. Anansi chuckled and bumped her back.
“That sounds fantastic. I could use a drink after being turned into a goody-goody world saving type.”
“Don't lie, you liked it.” She smiled at him, and Anansi remembered all the good times he had had with her. Maybe they could happen again.
“Maybe a little bit. You're a bad influence on me. What will the Evil League of Evil think when I tell them about this?”
“So don't tell them.” They shared a quiet laugh, drawing looks from the Secret Service agents. Mantis, no, Denise stuck her tongue out at them, which made Anansi laugh louder.
After what felt like an eternity and Kay let him know was actually only four minutes and fourteen seconds, they entered the oval office, which looked exactly like it did in every single television show ever, complete with couches and a rather comfortable looking chair behind the presiden
t's desk that faced the windows, hiding the man sitting in it. The secret Service agents ushered the group in and took up positions at the door.
“That won't be necessary, Agent White,” came a man's voice from the chair. The female agent began to protest, but held her tongue when the man in the chair raised a hand. She nodded and the Secret Service agents filed out and closed the door. The chair spun around, revealing the man sitting in it. He was tall, young, and clean shaven, with a good head of brown hair and blue eyes. He looked like every politician's dream.
Anansi had stopped really paying attention to the political scene in America once his exile had become more than self imposed, but the President's appearance surprised him. He had Kay start digging up what information she could about the man.
“Nice to see you in the flesh, Anansi. I have to say, I'm a bit surprised that you managed what you did, even with the help of my SHIP agents,” the President said with a smile that surely charmed most people but did nothing to alleviate Anansi's uncomfortable feeling. “It has been a bit of a hectic couple of weeks keeping this from hitting the news.”
“Nice that I could have been of help, Mr. President,” Anansi responded, using the modulators in his helmet speakers to take the nervous edge out of his voice. “Though I have to wonder, why me?”
“An astute observation, Mr. Redpath. Haven't they already told you?”
“I want to hear it from you, Mr. President.”
“Actually, I admit that the decision was a political one.” The president stood from his seat and walked around his desk to the front, where he sat down in one of the couches and signaled for Anansi to do the same. He leaned back, still smiling. He was comfortable, felt he was completely in control. That was what was throwing red flares in Anansi's subconscious. It wasn't deception, a presentation of confidence. He genuinely wasn't afraid of Anansi, and had no doubts about that lack of fear, even without bodyguards.
“You see,” he continued, lifting one hand to run it through his hair. “Out of anyone who has fought Archangel, your fight, while expected to be a complete shutdown, was actually rather close. You performed far better than any projections by anyone working for us showed that you could. I was impressed when I read through the recounts. It also helped that Agent Sanders spoke highly of your skill. She volunteered to supervise you, stating she was the best equipped to do so.”
“I bet she did,” Anansi said, glancing at Denise who was distinctly not looking at Anansi. He wished for a moment that he could see into her mind to see what she was thinking, but he'd never been able to figure out a device for that, and his youngest sister, Daisy, had never agreed to being experimented on for him to figure it out. A shame, really.
Kay interrupted the President with a file that displayed in Anansi's vision, showing pictures and news articles on David Andrews, President of the United States. In an unheard of move, Andrews had exploded onto the political scene only a year and a half before his election to President and having held no previous political office of any sort, making friends and a name for himself in the short time he had been in the news. He was the second son of a middle class family, West Point graduate, served ten years in the Army as a Special Forces officer, final rank of major, before leaving the service to pursue his dream of politics. His awards included a Bronze Star with a valor device, awarded for heroism in Afghanistan.
His opponents in the race for president had called him unqualified, citing that his service meant little in a changing political world and that he was a war hound. Andrews had responded by stating that his service had showed him the advantage of being young and open-minded in a changing world, able to accept things that others would not due to their long set prejudices.
He had run as an Independent and won the presidency by a narrow margin, beating his nearest competitor by only ten percent of the vote.
Once he had finished reading through the file, Anansi noticed the president was silent, waiting for him to speak.
[He asked how you did it.]
“Trade secret, sir, and frankly, the science behind a lot of my toys is something that breaks brains. Simply put, you know how physics is supposed to work, but doesn't seem to function the same way for supers?” The president nodded. “Same way with my toys. It's what makes Makers qualified as supers, even if most people barely recognize us as a type.”
“I see,” the president said with a nod and a thoughtful smile. “I will try not to underestimate Makers again.” The president stood, walking back to his desk. “That being said, we now are even more short-staffed in matters of highly skilled supers on my Superhuman Handling and Incident Prevention team. Maybe you would consider joining?” He leaned on his desk, eying Anansi. “We could use a man of your talents.”
Anansi felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. The feeling that something was wrong came back full force, with friends and family and was having a whole party inside his head. Anansi sent a query to Kay to run a check for display of powers in Andrews' history.
“I'd rather not. I've spent years trying to undo this mess of a government, and turning into another government drone would look bad on my villain cred sheet.”
The president frowned, a look of confusion on his face for a split second that was hidden under a mask of neutrality, which looked far more at home on his face than the smile. “Let me rephrase to something I hear you might more appreciate. “Join me. With our combined strength, we can bring an end to these destructive conflicts and rule the world.””
Anansi blinked. He looked at the president incredulously. “Seriously? Darth Vader?” Confusion flashed across the president's face again as Anansi stood and fixed his coat. “Listen. Amusing references or no, I'm not joining you. I'll take that pardon I was promised and I'll stay out of your hair, but I'm not going to become your attack dog.”
President Andrews crossed his arms. “Fine, if you want to be that way,” he said. He nodded to Stone, who stood beside Mantis in the back of the room. Anansi looked as Stone drew a pistol from his suit and leveled it on Denise's head. The gunshot was deafening in the close quarters. Anansi stared in shock, hands involuntarily reaching for grenades he hadn't brought with him as Denise's body crumpled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut, her blood spattered on the walls and pooling about her head, eyes staring ahead, unblinking. He felt his collar get grabbed and looked back at the president. The man held him close, a look of anger on his face.
“I don't know why you're unaffected by me, Mr. Redpath, but let's make one thing clear, shall we?” His voice had changed from amicable to menacing, barely recognizable as the politician's smooth voice from before. “If you aren't joining me, that's fine, but I will make you suffer if you stand against me.
“I know who your family is, and just where I can hit them to hurt them the most, and once I'm finished hurting each and every one of them, I will kill them. Then I will kill you. The entire Redpath clan will be but a memory in the history books if I so much as think you have lifted a finger against me, do you hear me?”
Anansi nodded dumbly, still shocked by what was going on. He called out to Kay through the neural link and felt nothing in response. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood, but didn't wake up. Not a dream.
“Good. Get the hell out of my country, then.” President Andrews pushed Anansi away from him and into the waiting arms of Stone, who grabbed him by the collar and started walking him through the halls back to the helipad. Anansi walked in a daze, trying to piece together what had just happened. Denise was dead. She was dead and just when they were starting to mend the rift that had been made between them. A part of Anansi's mind screamed that they should tear the place down, brick by brick. Kill everyone and let their gods sort them out. Anansi could barely hear it, as numb as he was.
Stone half-led, half-dragged Anansi to the Cicada, which automatically lowered the stairway, allowing Anansi to walk into the craft on his own. He walked into the back of the craft as it took off se
emingly on its own, opened the door, and plopped into the bed inside the room.
[Where to?] Kay sent, thoughts of comforting emotions and sadness coming across the neural link to him.
[Back to the ship,] Anansi sent back across the link and slipped off his helmet, his display already blurry with tears. Anansi grabbed a pillow from the end of the bed and placed it over his head as he screamed into it until he ran out of breath.
Chapter 17
June 14, 2017
[TheDoctorIsIn joins the channel “Planning Pillow Fort Of DOOM.”]
[Users in channel: TKRTPK, LilRed, KT3.141592653, Ireadyourbrain.]
[Welcome to the Planning Pillow Fort of DOOM, where we solve the worlds problems, with fire!]
[TKRTPK: Now just waiting on Tom and Andy.]
[TheDoctorIsIn: Give it ten seconds. They'll be here.]
[LilRed: Boys, always late.]
[Ireadyourbrain: Srsly.]
[Users joined channel: BaconPieHamburger, IronGolem]
[LilRed: That's creepy how you do that.]
[IronGolem changes alias to BaconNinja]
[BaconNinja: Is he doing the predicting when we arrive thing again?]
[Lilred: Yeah.]
[Lilred changes alias to BaconUnicorn]
[TKRTPK: Children! Please. Let's be serious here.]
[TheDoctorIsIn: Yes, let's. I've somewhere to be.]
[BaconUnicorn: You can be there on time anyways, no matter how long it takes.]
[TheDoctorIsIn: Do you teleport everywhere?]
[BaconUnicorn: No. It's tiring.]
[TheDoctorIsIn: Exactly. :P And no, Andy, I won't tell you tomorrow's lotto numbers.]
[BaconNinja: You didn't even let me ask.]
[TheDoctorIsIn: I didn't even have to use my powers to guess you were going to ask.]
[TKRTPK: ANYWAYS! Kay says Jake's in trouble. POTUS had his girl killed and is apparently going to attack us if he so much as shows his face again. She says Jake's in a bit over his head and needs help.]