Pulse never saw her move. One moment she was there, and then in the blink of an eye, his legs were swept out from under him. He was flat on his back with a razor-sharp short sword at his throat.
“Now my body matches my mind.”
“Ms. Foster,” Catherine cautioned.
“It’s okay, Ms. Fletcher,” Pulse said.
Pulse winked at the street-ninja and his body suddenly transformed into pure energy. Faster than anyone could perceive, he shot upward. The beam of light bent at incredibly sharp angles, over and over, until it returned and hit Reflex square in the back, knocking her down hard to the helipad.
Pulse returned to his human form and smiled. “I’m pretty fast myself.”
“Looking good, Andre,” the last member of the team said. Pulse looked over and up at the giant armored figure. The last hero was nearly nine feet tall, adorned in red and black heavy armor.
“Your voice is familiar,” Pulse said, looking at the file. The only thing the dossier read was code name: Vulcan.
“It should,” the armored form said as it glowed a bright red, phased out, and revealed a skinny, bald black man with a goatee and a wide smile.
“Curtis? Curtis Green?”
“Heya, brother,” Curtis said, giving Pulse a friendly handshake and hug.
“Is bromance in the air?” Hotshot asked with a snicker.
“That is—or was—Titan,” Reflex said. “The Armored Avenger. Where have you been?”
“War,” Hotshot said, lighting a cigarette.
Pulse released his hug and gripped Curtis’s shoulder, “Curtis and I got our start together. Man, what happened to you? I heard you quit the business and then…nothing.”
“Big C, brother, the big C.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding. Cancer was in my blood, my brain. I was a dead man walking.”
Pulse looked at his former friend then to Ms. Fletcher. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Ms. Fletcher nodded.
“So, new form?”
“Yup. Advanced augmentation and thermolytics. The foundation has a serum which enhanced me. I can get hot. Really hot. And that wouldn’t work for most people—unless they were able to…”
“Turn into a living mountain of metal.”
“Exactly. Since then, we say goodbye to Titan and hello to Vulcan.”
“Hey, whatever to takes, man. I’m damn glad to see you.”
“So this is nice and all, but what are we going to be doing?” Hotshot asked. “Do we have a mission? Or is this a boondoggle?”
“Ever the soldier, Ms. Martinez,” Catherine said.
“Thank you.”
“Yes, I do have a mission for you,” Catherine said as she walked toward the waiting helicopter.
“What is it?” Pulse asked.
“You’re going to stop the city from being struck by nuclear weapons.”
Part 4: The Mission
The large video monitor on the chopper showed a live satellite feed of a small, man-made island twenty-five miles off the coast of Washington State.
“This is your target,” Ms. Fletcher said. “It is called The Cauldron. It is the staging base for a group of doomsday cultists led by Stygian, the witch disciple of the Tactician. Intelligence reports claim he had orders to destroy the city upon the Tactician’s death.”
“Holy shit,” Hotshot said.
Ms. Fletcher gave a stern glare to the former Army pilot. “Where I come from, young lady, cursing was a sign of the uncultured. However, considering the situation, a ‘holy shit’ is indeed warranted.”
Hotshot’s smile was plastered to her face.
Reflex pointed to the screen. “The island is capable of propulsion, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Then that island should have left a massive wake behind it,” Reflex said. “Could you zoom out and show an infrared image”
Ms. Fletcher nodded and complied. As the image pulled back into the Northern Pacific, Reflex pointed at the screen. “Nothing. No disturbance.”
“It’s the ocean, its cold,” Vulcan said. “It would just wipe out any traces and mask any heat signatures, wouldn’t it?”
“No,” Reflex said. “Regardless of how it moved, mechanical or magical, an island moving through the water would not only cut through the water, it would churn up the seabed. That level of disturbance would be seen. Unless…”
“Unless the island’s been there for some time,” Pulse finished. “Good work. Ms. Fletcher?”
“Ms. Foster is correct. The island has been there for almost a week.”
“Then why is anyone just now dealing with this?” Hotshot asked. “Coast Guard or the Marines should have been first responders.”
“They were,” Ms. Fletcher said.
“And then?” Hotshot asked.
“Then there was a need for further responders.”
“No,” Vulcan said. “No disrespect to you ma’am, or anyone here, but we’re not ready for this. There hasn’t been a chance for team cohesion. Another team should investigate this.”
Pulse sighed. “Unless they already did.”
“I see,” Reflex said.
“What? What am I missing?” Hotshot said, her voice getting angry.
Pulse looked at the screen, then turned toward his team. He crossed his arms and took a breath, collecting his thoughts.
“There's no reason to send in a green team like us unless there was no other option. We’re a Hail Mary, aren’t we?”
“Three other teams were dispatched before you,” Ms. Fletcher confirmed.
“And?”
“There is sufficient reason to send a fourth.”
Pulse sighed again. In all his years as a hero, he’d been called upon to do the impossible before. And each time, he answered the call. This time would be no different.
“The previous hero teams who went before you, The Faction, The Crusaders, and Fortune’s Fury, weakened The Cauldron’s defenses,” Ms. Fletcher said. “I do not believe Stygian is expecting a fourth team.”
“What happened to them?” Reflex asked.
“Unknown.”
“You said something earlier about nukes?” Pulse asked.
“Reports claim Stygian has access to unlicensed nuclear weapons. He intends to launch them.”
“What about coastal defense systems?”
“Insufficient,” Ms. Fletcher said. “The reports claim that Stygian’s magic can cloak the weapons.”
Hotshot whistled. “Stealth nukes?”
Ms. Fletcher nodded. “In essence, yes.”
“Holy Hell.”
“Indeed.”
“Okay, we got this,” Pulse said.
Reflex shook her head. “While I applaud your enthusiasm, I believe your hubris blinds you to the severity of the situation.”
“Hey!” Vulcan said. “Show some respect. Pulse’s been doing this longer than any of you and almost as long as me. He’s led teams against some pretty tough odds.”
“Curtis, it’s okay,” Pulse said. “Reflex?”
“Yes?”
“You hit the nail on the head. Especially when you said the word ‘blind.’”
“My apologies. I should have been more sympathetic to your…condition.”
“Why?” Pulse asked. “It’s a fact. Without this visor, I am blind. Just like you’re a quadriplegic, you’re wheelchair bound, and you’d be dying of cancer,” Pulse said, looking at his team in turn. Over the last three years, I’ve learned to listen. Something you—all of you—should learn to do, because you all clearly missed a detail in this mission brief.”
Reflex narrowed her eyes. “Enlighten us.”
“HA!” Hotshot barked.
“What do you find so amusing?”
“Because I picked up on something before you.”
“Which is what Ms. Martinez?” Ms. Fletcher asked.
“It’s the same speech we got all the time before a suicide mission. We’re going to go out there and get it done�
�because we’re all that’s left. But if this butthole’s gonna nuke the city, and we’re all that’s left, it’s simple: either we save the city or a whole lotta people will die.”
Pulse nodded at the cyborg. “Exactly. Each of has suffered in our own way, with our own issues. We’re all rejects. But right now, we’re needed.”
“Good,” Ms. Fletcher said. “We’re coming up on The Cauldron.”
Part 5: The Cauldron
“Hotshot, you’ve got three on your six,” Pulse called out over the comms.
“I see ’em,” the airborne warrior said.
Directional actuators on the female cyborg’s legs fired up as her impulse engines switched from flight to hover. Hotshot swung in a wide, parabolic arc. The diminutive, imp-like demons couldn’t corner as well as the experienced pilot.
Once the small, winged monsters were in her cross-hairs, Hotshot unleashed a torrent of ionized plasma. The blasts incinerated the creatures, reverting them back into the ectoplasmic stew they were formed from. Greenish goo rained down to the man-made island below.
“Hey!” Vulcan called out. “That’s just gross.”
“Sorry big guy,” Hotshot saluted as she flew off to engage another batch of the monsters.
Vulcan’s giant armored form clashed with more of the summoned demonic monsters. The lumbering creatures tried to stop the small mountain of power with little success. Vulcan threw his armored fists in wild haymakers. Each of his strikes splattered the demons into more of the ectoplasm.
“This is almost too easy,” Vulcan said with a chuckle.
“Count it as a blessing. Fletcher said most of Stygian’s main defenses were wiped out when the other teams came here,” Pulse said as he continued to recon the sky, looking over the battlefield.
Pulse saw five large, horned creatures with thick, natural plate and bone armor moving toward Vulcan.
“Watch out brother, you’ve got five big, nasty ones advancing on your left.”
“Let them,” Vulcan said.
The five ogre-like creatures leaped on the armored man in an impromptu gang tackle. The monsters slammed into the armored giant, nearly taking him off his feet. In response, Vulcan decided it was time to turn up the heat.
Sections of Vulcan’s black plate slid aside. Red fire flared as his internal temperature liquefied all five monsters into steaming puddles of goo.
With Vulcan and Hotshot taking care of the trash, Pulse continued searching. The plan was simple: let Hotshot and Vulcan engage directly, while he and Reflex conducted recon.
The hero flew over the island back and forth at breakneck speed, reading the EM field, and searching for a way in. Pulse knew that if there were missiles, they’d be inside. But the entire island seemed to be shielded.
Pulse flew down and landed next to Vulcan. Maintaining his semi-laser form, Pulse released several blasts of concentrated energy from his hands, destroying more of the demonic nuisance.
“Thanks, man,”
“My pleasure,” Pulse told the big man. “Reflex, I got squat from up top. Everything is shielded. Please tell me you have something.”
“I do. Make your way to me. I think I found a way in.”
“You heard her Rejects, let’s get it done!” Hotshot called out as she blasted through the sky, spraying a hail of heavy fire thought a small squadron of imps as she flew through their raining effluence.
“We’re not really going to keep that name, are we?” Vulcan asked.
Pulse sighed, “We’ll work on it. Let’s go.”
Vulcan nodded, then began running directly toward Reflex’s transponder signal. The giant’s incredible strength and heat allowed him to barrel through anything in his way. The armored behemoth crashed and burned through buildings and creatures alike, leaving a Vulcan shaped hole in his path. Pulse smiled as he jogged behind his old friend.
Pulse and Vulcan rounded a corner to see Reflex with her swords drawn, four human cultists advancing on her.
“No killing!” Pulse called out.
Reflex shot Pulse a bored expression, “I know.”
With the exo-suit, Reflex’s body was able to keep up with her augmented mind. Her enhanced thought and perception allowed her to see the fight before it happened.
Reflex danced amid her assailants. The graceful woman kicked downward, breaking a leg of one cultist. A masked man drew a wand, aiming it at Reflex. As he spoke a word of power, she pirouetted safely away from the discharged black-beam of necromantic energy.
Reflex continued her circular motion and brought her sword down, cutting the wand in two. Her follow-up strike brought the pommel of her second sword across the side of the cultist’s temple, knocking him out.
Reflex dove into a roll, swiping both her blades outward which cut the hamstrings of the two remaining cultists.
In less than two seconds, four men were down and Reflex almost yawned.
“There is a hatch here. Based on the satellite imagery we saw, this would be the main point of egress.”
Hotshot landed beside us and held her weapon arms up, taking shots at anything that moved. “Then let’s get in there.”
“Vulcan?” Pulse asked.
“On it.”
Vulcan gripped the steel hatch. The metal squealed as it buckled under the strength of his hands. The big man ripped the hatch off the hinges and threw it absently over his shoulder. Before them, the open passage led down into a dark tunnel where rhythmic chanting could be heard.
“Nice,” Hotshot said. “I would’ve blown it up.”
“Which was why you were not tasked with the job,” Reflex said.
“Are you allergic to fun? Or smiling?”
Reflex ignored her cyborg teammate, turning toward Pulse. “Allow me a sixty-second head start to scout ahead.”
“Do it,” Pulse said.
Reflex nodded, then proceeded downward. Exactly a minute later, Pulse heard his scout come over the comm link.
“Pulse, come down. Now.”
“On our way.
“Okay Rejects, let’s march into hell!” Hotshot said as she made her way in.
Vulcan sighed, “I really hate that name.”
Part 6: Deep Below
“They’re dead,” Reflex said. “All of them.”
Pulse looked down at the bodies. There, deep inside the darkness of The Cauldron’s holding cells, the corpses of The Faction, The Crusaders, and Fortune’s Fury lay unmoving.
The cells were covered in blood and symbols of the occult. Stygian’s black magic cult somehow stripped the heroes of their abilities. There was no other way. They were too powerful.
Too good to die.
Pulse forced his mind back to the present.
“How long have they been dead?”
Hotshot examined the bodies. Her prior military experience in combat zones made her numb to the scene. She picked up arms, pressed against cold flesh, and sniffed the stink of the decaying bodies.
“Honestly?” Hotshot said. “Days. Maybe even a week or so.”
“Pulse to Fletcher, are you there, ma’am?”
“I am here,” Ms. Fletcher’s voice came over the comm.
“They’re dead ma’am. All of them.”
“Is the missile dealt with?”
The matter-of-fact attitude stunned Pulse. He looked at his team who were listening in. They looked back, equally confused. “Ma’am?”
“The missile. Your mission is to take it out. The heroes, while tragic, are not your mission. If you do not succeed, than West Haven, if not Washington State, will be dead. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Pulse said, knowing she was right. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good, we are counting on you,” Ms. Fletcher said before the comm link terminated.
“Damn,” Hotshot swore. “And I thought my CO was cold.”
“She’s correct,” Reflex said. “We must take care of the missile. Nothing else matters.”
Pulse nodded, knowing they were all right. He looked
once more at the dead heroes. Vulcan stood beside him, laying a massive hand on his shoulder.
“Some of them were my friends too. Their sacrifice won’t be in vain,” Vulcan said. “There was nothing we could do. You can’t blame yourself.”
“I don’t. I blame Stygian.”
“Why?” A deep, eerie voice said from the darkness. “I did not make your brethren come to my home. Yet here they came and here they died.”
“Come out so I can shoot you!” Hotshot yelled.
“Not much incentive for me to come out then, now is it?” Stygian called from the darkness.
“He baiting us,” Pulse said. “Heads on a swivel people.”
“What a good leader you are,” Stygian’s voice said. “I wonder, did you learn that before or after you killed those children.”
Pulse tightened his fists.
“Easy boss,” Hotshot said. “Classic battlefield tactic. Get your opponent so mad they make a mistake.”
“She is…correct,” Reflex said.
“Don’t act so surprised. I do have a college degree after all.”
“I have eight.”
“Overachiever,” Hotshot rolled her eyes, “But there’s a problem. There’s no missile here.”
Pulse looked at the cyborg, “What?”
“We’re below the waterline of this island and there is no central repository. If this thing had a missile silo, we’d see it. Plus, I’m getting squat on all my sensor sweeps. Only a weird EM signature.”
Pulse switched to his semi-laser form, quickly looking around. Hotshot was correct. There was no radiation. Only an odd power radiating from almost everywhere.
Oh…no.
“This whole island is a…bomb.”
“Smart. Far smarter than your previous friends.”
“Shut—up!” Pulse screamed as he blasted a wave of intense light outward, illuminating the chamber.
Stygian, robed in the safety of his shadows, was revealed in the flash of light hiding in the corner of the chamber. The robed warlock looked around, confused.
“Take him down!” Pulse commanded.
“Gladly,” Hotshot said, unleashing ionized plasma from her arm cannons as Stygian threw his hands up, weaving a spell of mist and darkness.
Hotshot’s attack pierced the mist and sparked, in vain, against the chamber’s floor.
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