No Master Plan Here (Madness Runs in the Family)

by Joel Burdick

  [BaconPieHamburger: POTUS, huh? Are you pitching in, Rose? Or working behind the scenes on this one? How is the world domination bid going?]

  [TKRTPK: I'd prefer to stay out of the limelight if things go south. It's going.]

  [Ireadyourbrain: Very well, really. Soon you will all be drinking the koolaid.]

  [BaconPieHamburger: Don't hold it against me if I don't believe you.]

  [TKRTPK: Kay, what's your assessment?]

  [KT3.141592653: Not good. Based on assessment of the POTUS' power set, Jake could face him, but he fears the repercussions that would fall on the Family if he were to do so. Also, he killed Mantis, who you know better as Ghost, and that dealt a serious blow to Jake's morale. Without some sort of outside interference, the odds of Jake's success in this conflict plummet to the single digits.]

  [BaconUnicorn: So...take out the Pres, save the world?]

  [KT3.141592653: Essentially.]

  [Ireadyourbrain: I'm out of the country.]

  [BaconPieHamburger: I'm not getting involved unless Jake actually needs the help, but I can be there in no time. I can pick you up on the way, Daisy.]

  [BaconNinja: I'm working on the Golden Gate. The Suit threw Goliath into it yesterday. Outbound lanes were all cut off.]

  [BaconUnicorn: I saw that on the news. Good fight.]

  [TKRTPK: I'll help, but he has to ask for it.]

  [KT3.141592653: The likelihood of that is less than his chances of winning. He's being stubborn and he has been drinking.]

  [TheDoctorIsIn: What are the odds if the POTUS didn't have Mantis killed?]

  [BaconNinja: Am I the only one who doesn't know who the POTUS is?]

  [Ireadyourbrain: The president.]

  [BaconUnicorn: The president of the US, dumdum. :P]

  [BaconNinja: :P]

  [KT3.141592653: Odds are very high, Edward. 85% chance of victory, rounded to the nearest whole number.]

  [TheDoctorIsIn: I have it on good authority that a certain “rogue” agent's body has not made it to the morgue. If she winds up at your door, can I trust you to let her in?]

  [KT3.141592653: In this case, odds of her being mind controlled and being programmed to seek out and kill Jake are rather high.]

  [TheDoctorIsIn: I don't think that will happen.]

  [KT3.141592653: …]

  [TKRTPK: Good enough for me. All in favor of letting Jake handle his own mess, provided he wipes the POTUS off the face of the earth for threatening the Family, type Aye.]

  [TheDoctorIsIn: Aye.]

  [BaconPieHamburger: Sure.]

  [BaconNinja: Yarp.]

  [BaconUnicorn: Aye.]

  [Ireadyourbrain: Yup.]

  [TKRTPK: Motion carried. Kay, I'll be about for a bit further if Jake wants to ask for help.]

  [KT3.141592653: Don't hold your breath.]

  Chapter 18

  March 6, 2014

  Lucas Lockheart walked out the front door of his home in Massachusetts to a mob of reporters crowding the brick wall that separated his property from the road. Cameras instantly came to life, lights flashing and coming on as they recorded and took snapshots of his muscled form outside of his uniform, wearing a pair of sneakers, grey sweatpants, and a sweatshirt with the logo of the New England Patriots football team. A dozen men and women all shouted questions at him all at once. “Mr. Lockheart, how does it feel to have failed to stop the villain Anansi?” “Archangel, will you be pursuing Anansi wherever he has gone for his crimes?” “How does it feel to have nearly gotten the President killed under your watch?”

  Lucas growled, spreading his massive wings, creating a pause in the questions as photographers took the opportunity for a more dramatic picture. “Any questions should be directed to the Department of Homeland Security public affairs office. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work.”

  With a flap of his wings, he shot skyward into the cloudy morning. The reporters irritated him, but only because they had come to him at his home. It was a bit of an unwritten rule to leave supers alone outside of their official capacities, even those without secret identities, though judging by the questions being asked, the reporters had been tabloid writers. Tabloid writers had no respect for the unwritten rule of leave off.

  Lucas snorted, playing with a thought of getting press credentials revoked on the reporters who had been outside his home, then thought better of it. He couldn't remember them all, and more would replace them anyways.

  It took only a few minutes for Lucas to fly to the White House, where he would be meeting with presidential staff to discuss how to better prevent supers from making assassination attempts in the future. He had been at his computer all night working on his presentation, which he knew was going to be slightly controversial.

  His mind was still on his presentation when he lightly touched down outside the White House, drawing salutes from the Marines outside the door and an Army major who was standing with them. The man looked young to be wearing the rank, but considering the number of badges he wore on his immaculately kept dress uniform, Lucas assumed he had been fast tracked. Lucas returned the salutes and started past the men. The major walked with him.

  “Excuse me, Archangel, would you happen to have a moment?” the man said. Archangel looked at him again, checking for recording devices or the like. Finding none, Archangel shrugged.

  “I've a meeting in twenty minutes, so if you're willing to walk and talk, I'll talk.” Archangel continued through the doors, the major keeping his quick pace. The man had the walk of a soldier, even stride, chest out, head up. He took off his beret as he walked inside and folded the hat under one arm.

  “It's actually exactly that that I want to talk to you. My name is Daniel Andrews, and I am starting a political campaign to run for President once I separate from the Army. I was wondering where you stand on the issue of superhuman registration and deputizing of current super teams in case of need. Be honest.”

  Lucas opened his mouth to tell the major what he had been told to say about the Superhuman Security Act, which was that it was necessary to keep an eye on those with powers to hold them responsible if they committed crimes like anyone else. “I think the SSA is doomed for failure because you can't detect most powers with current technology unless they're being used and it will drive many people with powers to other countries for fear of being conscripted.” He paused in mid-stride, shaking his head. That was how he actually felt, but he wasn't supposed to tell anyone. “Sorry, personal opinion, doesn't represent anything but me.”

  The major winked conspiratorially. “Your secret's safe with me. I admire what you do for the country. Not many would give up the high paying life of the celebrity hero that you could have had for the more serving job of protector of the government.” Archangel watched him carefully. He wasn't sure what had brought on his bout of honesty, but the possibility that this man possessed powers was one he had to consider. That or it was just early in the morning and he was cranky. That could be it.

  “I do it because I feel it's the right thing to do. It's not the most glamorous thing to do, sure. Better me than some mercenary with powers and sponsors.”

  The major smiled and handed him a card, simple and white with black lettering in a plain font. It read “Daniel Andrews” and listed a DC area phone number. “I think that's why I like you. You're not in it for the money. I could use your help when I make my push for the top. I think it's about time for a change in the country. What about you?”

  Lucas stuck the card in his pocket, then shook the major's hand. “We'll see, sir. It might be interesting to see someone who isn't a half dead old millionaire in the big seat.” He smiled and walked off, shaking his head. The guy was certainly something, completely uncaring of the political game, it seemed. He probably wouldn't make it, anyways.

  -~-~-

  January 4, 2016

  Lucas took a deep breath as he stood in front of the doors of the oval office. He wore a black suit tailored to allow for his wings. It was expensive for
the modifications, but it was more appropriate than his normal outfits for the occasion. Lucas knocked on the door, steeling himself.

  “Enter” came the voice from inside. Lucas pushed the door open and came into the office. The president sat behind his desk, typing away at a computer. It was funny to think that a bit over a year ago this was a man he had just met and dismissed as nobody important.

  The president looked up and nodded. “Lucas, good to see you, please sit down.” Lucas took a seat at one of the couches and tried smoothing the wrinkles in his pants legs. The suit had spent entirely too much time on a hangar since he had last had it pressed.

  “Do you know why I asked you here today?” President Andrews said, his tone like that of a school teacher. Lucas wasn't sure how to take the tone, but decided that professional indifference was the best option.

  “You want to know about our assessment on Anansi,” Lucas replied. The president nodded, gesturing for Lucas to continue. Lucas took the folder he had brought with him, walking to the president's desk and setting it down. The president picked it up and began sifting through the contents.

  Lucas cleared his throat. “While Anansi is only rated as a Class three Maker type, he has shown ingenuity and technological abilities that may mean his rating should actually be higher. He makes his home on a retrofitted cargo ship named Sanctuary, the contents and capabilities of which are unknown. Last month a Chinese warship launched a long range stealth missile at the Sanctuary.

  “The Sanctuary shot down the missile and the Chinese ship was destroyed.” Lucas paused, allowing that to sink in as he prepared for his next statement.

  “As Anansi has seemed to shift his focus from America, our expert on his behavior has suggested that it may be best to allow him to be, as an attack to kill him may not only be costly in both lives and equipment, but may also cause members of his family to turn against us.”

  “So you're saying that because his family is dangerous, and he isn't bothering us, we should leave him be?” The question felt like a dagger digging into Lucas' back, and he did not like it, but he nodded anyways. The president smiled, suddenly amiable. “I agree with your assessment, then. Have you read his mantra?”

  Lucas frowned. “Sir?”

  “Anansi's mantra. It's rather fascinating, really, if basic.” The president turned his computer to face Lucas. A website was on it, the background a black spider, text filling a portion of the body in white. Lucas started to look away, finding it boring, when a few phrases caught his eye. “You cannot win without risking everything” and “if not you, then who?”

  Lucas felt a headache coming on. He had been having more of them since President Andrews had come into office, but had amounted it to stress. The president had made a task force in the FBI called Superhuman Handling and Incident Prevention and placed him in charge of it, and it was difficult getting different personalities to work together. That must be it.

  “Fascinating, sir,” Lucas said as he rubbed his temples. He wasn't being sarcastic. It was fascinating. Anansi was right about so much, about the system being corrupt, about people needing someone to be seen doing something. An idea sprung into his head. Maybe he could be that someone. It would take some time to figure out just how, but maybe he could make the world a better place. It was something he tried to do by being a man that worked for the government, but maybe more desperate measures were needed.

  Now if only he could shake this headache.

  Chapter 19

  June 15, 2017

  “Breaking news,” said the news anchor, a middle aged blond woman with a practiced smile. “Anansi has returned to America, and has once again attacked the United States. He is reported to have attacked three chemical research facilities in the past three weeks and stolen two parts of a volatile and dangerous substance which has been deemed incredibly deadly if released into population centers. Fortunately, the substance is inert without all four parts, and while Anansi escaped apprehension by the authorities, the stolen chemicals were recovered. All four are now being kept under military guard in separate secure facilities.

  “The White House has issued the following statement.”

  The feed changed to that of a young man in a blue suit standing at a podium bearing the seal of the White House press office. He smiled at the assembled members of the press. Behind him stood Archangel, flanked by Stone and Spark, all of them in their natural forms and in uniform.

  “The day before yesterday in the early hours of the morning, members of the Superhuman Handling and Incident Prevention team successfully thwarted an attempt by the villain Anansi to gather a series of dangerous compounds that, when mixed, could spell disaster for the entire world. Although Anansi managed to escape, the chemicals were recovered and have been relocated to separate facilities for storage until they can be destroyed. Without the swift actions of these fine agents behind me, we could very well be facing a madman's apocalypse right now, and I, for one, am thankful to them. Let's hear it for the members of SHIP.”

  Applause rose from the audience as the man turned back to shake the hands of Archangel, Stone, and Spark.

  The feed changed back to the anchorwoman and her co-anchor, a man in a black suit with a blue tie. “The president is scheduled to conduct an awards ceremony commending the members of SHIP later today. SHIP lost one agent during the assault. Agent Denise Sanders, twenty-eight, originally of Washington, died of a gunshot wound to the head. Funeral services will be closed to the public, but President Andrews is expected to attend to pay his respects.

  “It has been three years since Anansi was last sighted on Am-”

  The feed cut out as Anansi turned off the news. He resisted the urge to throw things at the television. It wasn't the television's fault that the news channels spewed lies. It was his fault for not seeing all the pieces in play from the start, and now Denise had paid for his mistake.

  “You have to do something,” Kay said, appearing behind his chair.

  “Like what, Kay? He killed Denise. He has the power to hurt my siblings. All of them! And Mom!” Anansi slumped into his chair, hand wrapping around a glass of whiskey on the rocks, the perspiration causing his fingers to slip as he grasped the sides. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Tell them. Get them involved.”

  “No.”

  “This is their fight as well. It became so when Daniel Andrews brought them into it.”

  “I can't do that.”

  “Why not?” She was exasperated, and she had a direct link to his brain so he knew she knew what he was thinking, especially when he was too drunk to filter what went through the neural link.

  Anansi drank from his glass, emptying it and filling it again. The alcohol burned through him like a brand, but it helped keep him steady when all he wanted to do was scream and rave at the world. It pushed the problems away, somewhere under the proverbial rug where he wouldn't have to deal with them for another day.

  “I can't ask them for help. I made this mess, I have to take care of it, which means staying away,” he said, slumping in his chair, ignoring the disapproving feelings he caught over the neural link from Kay.

  “Ah, pride. Fantastic,” she said, sarcasm dripping in her voice. She rolled her eyes. “When you want to take your head out of your rear and stop feeling sorry for yourself, come find me and we can come up with a plan. In the mean time, enjoy your poison.” Kay disappeared, shutting off his glasses display as she shut off the neural link, leaving Anansi disconnected and discouraged. He knew she was right, but asking for help was something he didn't do. Couldn't do. Even if it involved them.

  Anansi emptied his glass again, refilled it, and stared into the depths of the bottle. It would be easy enough to end it all, he mused to himself. Just keep drinking until he succumbed to the alcohol. He had enough of the stuff. He lifted the bottle to his lips and started to drink down the rest of it.

  “I did not expect to find this.”

  Anansi spat whiskey, choking, turning to fi
nd Denise behind him, leaning against the doorway, dressed in a red button up shirt and black cargo pants, a black coat hanging over her shoulder. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. Kay smiled from behind her, the hologram sticking her tongue out at Anansi before disappearing. Anansi stood, trying to compose himself, setting the bottle down on the side table and nearly toppling it. He steadied it and looked again at Denise. He was a mess, and he knew it, and suddenly felt self-conscious about the fact that he had been drinking for the better part of the time that he had been back on the Sanctuary.

  “Denise...but. They killed you. I saw your brains get blown out of your head!” The image passed through his mind again and it brought bile to the back of his throat. Anansi placed a hand over his mouth and forced himself to swallow back the urge to vomit.

  “Really? They killed me? I think they would have to try a bit harder to actually manage that.” Denise walked into the room and picked up the bottle of whiskey. She sniffed at Anansi and wrinkled her nose disapprovingly. “You need a bath...” she said as she looked at the bottle. “But at least you still have a good taste in booze.” She took a swig straight from the bottle and set it down on the table, a shiver running through her. “That's the stuff.”

  “But...how? I saw-”

  “Yes, yes, you thought you saw my brains on the wall and blood on the floor. It was all rather painful and dramatic, right?” Anansi nodded dumbly at Denise, still trying to wrap his mind around the whole situation. She smiled and placed a hand on his cheek, stroking the day old stubble on his cheek. “I'm a shapeshifter, dear. I faked dying. You didn't think I would let that bastard get the better of me, did you? If so, you're dumber than you look right now.”

  “I...Hey!”

  “Shh,” she said, putting her finger on his lips, a smirk on hers. Anansi had the mental image of kissing her run through, along with the image of shaking her for worrying him. “I'm joking, but seriously, I needed you to react correctly. Andrews is a Minder of some sort. I felt him pushing in my mind when he was talking to him, like he was probably doing to you. So when Stone pulled a gun on me, I used my power to harden my skull and make it look like the bullet had penetrated.” She released her finger from his lip and patted Anansi on the rear. “Now stop being an angsty little girl, take a shower, and lets go get him for trying to kill me. If I wanted to date a whiny little girl, I'd go find that Nightshade character who is always complaining on his blog about not getting media attention.”