Super Powereds: Year 4

by Hayes, Drew

  “I’ll see how they feel about expanding the inner circle first then go from there. Part of me is still hoping they’ll make the smart choice and disband, but with Kennedy at the helm, it’s a long shot. Most likely I’ll have to escalate things gently, give them the sort of bad luck that’s impossible to prove anyone is behind but gets them more paranoid. Not long after that, I think it will be time to give a face to their fears, albeit one in a mask.”

  “I know I said I was okay with not being there to help, but I just realized that means I have to miss the Nick show as well. Any chance you’d be willing to sneak in a video camera or something?” Camille asked.

  “You know, I just might do that. Win or lose, I have a hunch it’s a performance I’ll want to record for posterity.”

  193.

  Eliza was seriously debating the idea of protesting. She didn’t trust the orders. Not that she ever took anything Nick said at face value, but this was a step too far. Was he really expecting her to swallow a bullshit assignment like this?

  “Guard duty. You want me on guard duty.”

  “I’m making contact with an enemy who very well might have assets of his own in place, ready to respond the moment he knows he’s compromised. It only makes sense to put some protection on the most likely targets.” Nick barely glanced at her; he was straightening his tie in the mirror and checking his hair. Despite what loomed on the horizon, he’d decided that this was still a good time to take Alice out for a date night. It was the most effort Eliza had ever seen him put into romance since… actually, she couldn’t recall him ever working so hard at courting a woman. It was sort of sweet, or would be if she didn’t feel like there were better ways they could be spending their time.

  “Look, I don’t mind guarding someone when the occasion demands. That’s not the issue here.” Eliza snatched up an empty beer bottle from the coffee table, duplicating it a few times until there were six vessels in front of her. “I’m confused why you’d want me for this, because while I’ve certainly got some skills, my ability is to make more of stuff. Useful, sure, just not that powerful in combat. So why is it you want someone like me guarding Vince? I’ve heard you guys talk; I know he’s one of the toughest people in your class. What the hell is going to be stronger than him but weaker than me?”

  Finally satisfied with his tie, Nick pulled his collar down, smoothing it out until it was symmetrical and crisp. “That’s not the sort of thing you’re guarding Vince from. If they were dumb enough to burst in swinging then I have no doubt old Silver would whip whatever poor bastards came after him halfway to hell. In terms of raw power, Vince is hard to stop once he’s motivated to fight. The trouble is that he’s not nearly so resilient against people who go for the head. That big trusting heart of his makes him gullible, especially where his dad is concerned.”

  “You think they’ll try to tempt him into leaving?” Eliza asked.

  “I think I’m about to tell a mole that his cover is blown, and there are any number of ways that could play out, up to and including pulling out of Lander while taking as many resources from us as possible. Vince would never turn on his friends, and anyone who’s been around him for five minutes knows that. However, I’m not sure he could resist the chance to see his dad again if it was offered, and once he’s gone there’s no way of telling if we’d get him back.” Nick finally turned from the mirror, checking his watch to ensure they still had time before Alice’s arrival.

  “So your job is to make sure no one has the opportunity to make that sort of approach,” Nick continued. “Take him out for food or coffee; I know you two are still friendly so that shouldn’t raise any red flags. Then just keep him occupied until you hear from me that it’s all clear. Give it a three-hour cutoff, though.”

  There was no need to ask why Nick was imposing a time limit; Eliza already knew the answer quite well. In a situation like this cutoffs were important, because there was always a chance that the meeting would go poorly and someone would get killed. If that someone was Nick, a cutoff ensured she wouldn’t be stuck waiting all night. Plus, she’d be aware that the mole was on the attack, which gave her a better chance of surviving long enough to escape.

  “You’re taking Jerome for backup, right?”

  “At a distance, but yes. I’d prefer to keep anyone with useful powers away from this kind of situation. Jerome’s talents will be better put to use behind the scope of a rifle. It might not be enough to save me if things go south, but it will probably ensure I don’t head to the afterlife on my own.” Nick certainly didn’t appear that worried about the possibility, not that Nicholas Campbell was ever one to openly broadcast his emotions.

  As much as Eliza still didn’t love this situation, she could see Nick’s point. In terms of raw physical power, there was almost no one Globe’s people could send who would be able to take down an HCP senior without a hell of a fight. If they used trickery or manipulation, on the other hand, Vince was indeed a potential target. Even if it galled her to be away from the action, she couldn’t find much fault in Nick looking out for a friend. “Be honest with me here: what are the chances this turns ugly?”

  Nick walked over to the window and glanced out, presumably to check for Alice’s arrival in case she’d shown up early. “We’ve got better odds than we usually take with these kinds of gambles. Aside from the kidnapping, Globe’s generally never been hostile to us, so it stands to reason his people might not be either. There’s also the possibility that I’ve picked the wrong target and the whole thing will be a bust. If it does come to blows… well, I’d like to say I’ll stand a good chance. And based on what I remember about our target’s skills from the HCP, that would be true. But there’s always the possibility he’s been sandbagging to keep from drawing attention. Probably best to assume that if it comes to a fight I’ll have to focus on tactical retreat.”

  “You could take one of your friends along. Hell, Alice has the skills to help put pressure on the mole and the power to stop him if it goes south,” Eliza suggested. “Why not bring her in?”

  With a turn from the window, Nick shook his head. “Too dangerous. Maybe not physically, but she’s got a lot to lose. All of them do. If I pull this off, I’ll be establishing a relationship with a wanted criminal. While that’s fine for someone like me, someone trained to cover these things up, it could be toxic for a new Hero should the truth come out. No, this is just us, Eliza. You and Jerome are the only ones I can call on for this. So are you in, or do you have more objections? Alice isn’t going to be a lot longer.”

  “Of course I’m in.” Eliza didn’t quite snap at him, although it was only thanks to concentrated willpower. “I still wish you’d tell me who the mole is though – if things go bad, I’d at least know who to put the hit on.”

  “Which is part of why I’m not telling you,” Nick replied. “That and to keep the telepathic targets as limited as possible. This is not the kind of fight the Family needs to be getting mixed up in. I’m on my own on this one. If it goes bad, then let it end with me.”

  “Even if I agreed to that, which I don’t, you know your other friends wouldn’t just shrug their shoulders once they saw your corpse. They’d tear half the country apart looking for your killer. The only question is whether they’d put him in jail or in the ground.” Eliza had a hunch it would be the latter, though it would depend on which of Nick’s friends found his murderer.

  The sound of an engine rang out in the parking lot, and Nick went to check the window once more. Despite the fact that she couldn’t see outside from her vantage point on the couch, Eliza instantly knew Alice had arrived. Few other things drew that kind of smile to Nick Campbell’s face.

  “You’re quite right,” Nick agreed. “Which is why I’ll do all I can not to die. But just in case I do, it only seemed proper to spend my potential last night alive with someone who makes me happy. On that note, you’re dismissed, Eliza. I’m done with work for today.”

  194.

  Despite the fact tha
t spring was around the corner, winter refused to release its grip without a fight. Two days ago it had been warm enough to wear shorts (not that Sherman ever would) and now he was shivering beneath a thick jacket as the wind whipped against his exposed face. The top of the parking garage they’d chosen as a meeting place had a nice location and loads of escape routes, but protection from the elements was a feature it lacked.

  Glancing down at his watch, Sherman noted that there were only a few minutes left until the meeting time. He had no idea who he was supposed to be looking for, not even a name. All he’d been told is that they’d find him. Given how deserted the area was, that wouldn’t really be a hard task to accomplish.

  Another blast of wind tore at Sherman, this one stronger than the previous breezes. It took him a moment to realize that the increase in force was because nature hadn’t summoned this wind; what he was feeling was the blast of air from a super-speeder suddenly coming to a stop. Turning his head ever-so-slightly, Sherman found himself looking at a tall woman who hadn’t been there a few moments ago. She must have circled and run in from another direction. There was little he could make out of her face – the thick hat and scarf obscured most of her features – although it was hard to fault her for bundling up, especially at the speeds she must have been moving.

  “Sherman, I take it.”

  “If I say I’m not him, what possible excuse could I give for being out here at this time of night?” The cold had made Sherman a little snippier than he meant to be, and this wasn’t the time for sass. “Sorry. I mean yes, I’m he. What do I call you?”

  Her eyes darted around a few times before glancing to the lower half of her face. “Scarf is fine.”

  “Scarf? If you didn’t want to give me your real name you could have at least thought of one before arriving,” Sherman pointed out.

  “Maybe I just haven’t decided if you get my real name or not yet. I thought you’d appreciate someone who doesn’t go around with a favorite code name locked and loaded. That’s the sort of thing Heroes do.”

  She wasn’t wrong about that, and even if she had been, they were spending far too much time on something that didn’t matter. Better to get down to business so that he could be free from this relentless chill. “I suppose you have a point. Very well then, Scarf, I followed your protocol to the letter and arrived without any backup. Let’s cut to the heart of this meeting: what is your boss looking for from the Sons of Progress?”

  “From the Sons? Nothing, because you’ve got nothing to offer. We both know your organization still stands in name only. I doubt you even had backup to bring with you if I’d allowed it. No, my boss doesn’t want anything from the Sons of Progress. Crispin, however, is another matter. A Super with his power is always valuable, and we’re willing to compensate him for a few services.”

  Although it was galling to hear some stranger pronounce the death of a movement Sherman had poured years of his life into, there was little he could say as defense. The Sons of Progress were functionally dead. The only question remaining was whether to move on to a new incarnation or try to raise this one from the dead. Either was possible with Crispin at the helm; it would simply depend on what sort of compensation Globe had in mind.

  “We anticipated such a possibility, and my employer is amenable to the idea. Assuming the compensation is appropriate for what he offers, of course.”

  “Hey, I’m just the messenger. That’s for the bosses to figure out. Since you say yours is open to the deal, then the next step is to set up a meeting so they can hash out the specifics,” Scarf told him.

  Sherman bristled, and it had nothing to do with the weather. “I’m afraid that’s out of the question. Crispin doesn’t meet for such dealings; he trusts me to represent his interests. While he will obviously show up to do any work he’s hired for, even that will only be under tight, carefully controlled circumstances. There are many people out for his head these days, I’m sure you can appreciate his cautious nature.”

  “Oh I appreciate it just fine. You act like I’m not also working for someone in hiding. Thing is, I don’t really care how your boss feels about it. My guy is old school, doesn’t believe in working with someone until he’s looked them in the eye and shaken their hand. And he always handles his negotiations face to face.”

  “So he doesn’t trust you?” Sherman knew it was a long-shot to try and wheedle her into agreement, but he had little else in the way of diplomatic options.

  “He trusts me just fine,” Scarf shot back, unfazed by the verbal jab. “He believes that a real leader does more than their share of the work, not less. He’s not going to send any of us in to deal with a dangerous criminal, not when he can put himself at risk instead. So are we going to break over this, or do you want to run it by your boss and see what he has to say on the matter? Because we can find other amplifiers. Not easily, I’ll grant you, but it’s doable. I doubt it will be as simple for you to find another group willing to lend him aid… at least, not under such friendly terms.”

  It took all of Sherman’s effort not to glare at Scarf; thankfully his half-frozen face made the task easier. “You call strong-arming us friendly?”

  “I call wanting to handle things in person friendly. And offering to pay for the services is pretty friendly. There are lots of unscrupulous people who wouldn’t care what you wanted; they’d let you choose between doing the work and losing a few limbs.”

  “Which is precisely why my employer makes a point of not needlessly endangering his safety by meeting with strangers,” Sherman said.

  Scarf shrugged, or at least she seemed to. It was hard to tell under the dense coat. “This is a deal-breaker, Sherman. Take it back to your boss and see what he has to say. I’ll come back through here in one week. Same time, same conditions. If you’re here then be ready to discuss a meeting. If you’re gone then I’ll assume you don’t want to deal. It will be a shame and will slow us down, but we’ll manage to press on eventually.”

  She began to walk back toward one of the exit ramps, not quite turning on the speed yet but clearly done with the meeting. Sherman called after her on instinct, words leaving his mouth before they could be properly vetted by his brain. “Is he a trustworthy man? Assistant to assistant, do you trust him?”

  Scarf stopped, turning around to look back at Sherman. “Do I trust him? Of course I trust him. I’ve thrown everything away to follow him, and he’s proven worthy of it at every turn. If Globe told me he was ascending to the heavens to slay God himself, I’d start burning bibles for warmth because that’s all they’d be good for.”

  “A little over-dramatic, but I take the point. I’ll speak to my employer and see if some arrangement can’t be reached.” Sherman watched as Scarf turned back around, began to jog, and then vanished in a blur. She was exceptionally fast, he had to say. Fast and good at her job. She’d summarized the situation perfectly: Crispin needed them more than they needed Crispin, and that put them in the stronger negotiating position.

  For now, anyway. Sherman had seen the hunger in those who tasted what Crispin could offer. Once they saw their true potential unlocked they would become addicted to the power, and after that happened, Crispin and Sherman would be the ones in control. They just needed to play ball long enough to reach that point. Then the Sons of Progress would be born anew.

  195.

  Adam had always expected that when this moment came there would be lots of shouting, probably from people in colorful masks as he was beaten and restrained – something suitably dramatic for a discovery of such magnitude. Instead there was nothing but a simple note on his pillow. Just the words “I Know” along with a date, time, and address.

  With that alone he would have had little to go on, although the number of people who could have found him out was quite limited. There was no need to begin speculating on who’d uncovered his secret, however.

  After all, who else but Nick Campbell would write a note like that on a playing card?

  It was a bold move
, letting a potential enemy know who was setting the meeting, but Nick had always favored high-stakes gambles. In this case, Adam found it somewhat prudent. If he’d had no idea who sent the note, then he would have needed to contact Globe and begin extracting himself from Lander as fast as possible. There were bolt bags tucked away all over campus, and Adam knew the schedules of Supers with powers he could borrow that might be handy for escape. But to be uncovered by Nick… maybe that wasn’t so bad. Globe himself had worked with the former student in May, helping provide Nick with enough power to help sway the outcome of the attack against Lander. Besides, if Nick wanted to turn him in then he wouldn’t bother setting up a meeting. No, Nick wanted something else; maybe this was just the leverage he was using to get it. There was also the possibility it could be an elaborate trap, but again Adam couldn’t see why Nick would bother when he’d had (and squandered) the element of surprise.

  There wasn’t enough time to reach out and hear back from Globe through the usual channels before the meeting was set, so Adam had to make this call on his own. Maybe it was naïve, but he didn’t see the harm in taking the meeting. Nick already had him dead-to-rights: all he had to do was tell Dean Blaine and the whole jig was up. There was nothing he could bring to a secret meeting that was worse than the full might of the HCP coming down on Adam’s head… unless he planned to kill Adam before any investigation could take place. It was possible, albeit not terribly likely. While Nick certainly had no qualms about taking life, he wasn’t the sort to throw away a useful resource. Odds were good that this was a meeting to talk terms, not bury Adam in a shallow grave.

  Still, Adam did intend to go grab some useful powers before the deadline. He was the first to admit Nick was among the craftiest bastards Adam had ever met, and there very well might be an aspect to this meeting Adam hadn’t figured out. Better to be prepared, just in case. Getting booted from Lander, even captured by the Heroes, all of that was fine if the mission demanded it, but Adam couldn’t allow himself to die. Not yet. Not until he’d taken revenge for his family. He’d made a promise to those graves, and no one was going to stop him from keeping it.