The Superhero's Strike

by Lucas Flint

  “Hello, Bolt,” said Valerie in her usual monotone voice. “I am pleased to hear from you. How are you doing? Do you feel well?”

  I groaned and lay back down, rubbing my forehead as I said, “I guess so, but I’m not sure what happened. Last thing I remember is getting blasted by that robot that exploded. Was I knocked out?”

  “Yes,” said Valerie. “From what I have gathered, Strike went down after you into the maze and dragged you out all by himself. He and Triplet then led the scared girls out of the maze to safety. The girls are currently being reunited with their families by the Virginia state government.”

  I sighed in relief. “Good to hear. I was worried about that for a bit. What about Triplet? Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine,” said Valerie. “I actually managed to speak with him before he left. He said he needed to go back to New York City to talk to his client in order to inform him that the case was solved. He seemed excited about getting paid for his work.”

  I frowned. “You mean he didn’t stay long enough to say goodbye?”

  “He did come to the Braindome with you, Strike, and Dizzy,” said Valerie, “but like I said, he said he needed to return to New York City as quickly as possible, so he couldn’t stay around forever. I believe he spoke with Brains and Vanish about what happened down there, but other than that, he simply came and went.”

  My frown deepened. Triplet could be pretty rough sometimes and I still thought he would make a great NHA member, but I knew that he was a real hero deep down and I had nothing but respect for him. He’d helped me too many times for me to think otherwise. Still, I wished he could have been a little friendlier, but hey, I understood where he was coming from. Business was business and I didn’t want him to spend more time here than he absolutely needed to.

  “So how long have I been out?” I said.

  “One day,” said Valerie. “Closer to a day and a half, actually. Part of that, however, was medically-induced. You took a terrible beating down there, which would have killed a normal human. They worked hard to fix you up, but I would suggest not moving around too much.”

  “Why not?” I said. I stretched my arms and legs. “I feel fine, Val. A little tired, maybe, but I think I could get up and walk around if I wanted to.”

  “I would not recommend it,” said Valerie. “I just wish I could have been down there with you, but Longworth’s maze was protected by some kind of signal disruption device that prevented me from connecting to your suit-up watch or your earcom. Otherwise, I definitely would have been down there with you.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, Val. I know you would have helped if you could, but—”

  Suddenly, the door to the medical room opened. I immediately looked up to see Brains and Strike enter. Strike didn’t look much better than me, especially with that bandage wrapped around his head, but unlike me, he could still walk. Brains, on the other hand, looked fresh and clean, although the frown lines on his face told me he was a lot more worried than he let on.

  “Bolt,” said Brains as he and Strike stopped at the end of my bed. “I thought I sensed activity in your brain waves that suggested you’re awake. We also heard you talking to someone in here, but I don’t see anyone.”

  I sat up, using the fluffy pillows for support, and gestured at my ear. “Just talking to Val. She’s been filling me in on everything that’s happened since I got knocked out. Said you dragged me here.”

  I said that to Strike, who stood with his arms folded in front of his chest. I noticed he still hadn’t replaced his torn cape, which hung in tatters off his shoulders.

  “Like a sack of potatoes,” said Strike. He gestured at the tatters of his cape hanging off his shoulders. “Just a bit of revenge for what you did to my cape here.”

  “Hey, you did that yourself,” I said. “Or just blame Longworth, seeing as he’s the one who brainwashed you in the first place.”

  “Sorry about that,” said Strike. He rubbed the back of his head. “When I convinced Phaser to take me with him, my original plan was to take down him and Longworth. But then Abaddon attacked me and put a Control Crown on my head before I had a chance to do anything else.”

  “No problem, bro,” I said, waving off Strike’s apology. “I know you wouldn’t destroy your cape yourself. You don’t hate me that much.”

  Strike chuckled at that, while Brains clapped his hands together and said, “Good to hear you so chipper. The doctor said you would need to rest in bed for a few days, but it sounds to me like you’re already raring to go.”

  “Yep,” I said with a nod. “I am. By the way, how is Dizzy? Is she doing okay?”

  “She’s fine, thankfully,” said Strike. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Right now, she and Vanish are cooing about how cute Joey is and talking about girl stuff. As much as I missed Dizzy, it was a relief when Brains said we should go check on you.”

  Brains chuckled. “You learn to live with it, Strike, especially when you’re married. I’m sure Dizzy and Vanish are glad that they don’t have to listen to us talk ‘guy stuff.’”

  “Speaking of guy stuff, what happened to Longworth?” I said, looking from Strike to Brains and back again. “Is he still around?”

  “Not anymore,” said Brains, shaking his head. “The G-Men showed up yesterday and hauled him off to prison. Additionally, the G-Men have also confiscated his house and property, which includes the maze underneath.”

  I scowled. “Of course they would. I imagine they’re probably very interested in Longworth’s cloning technology.”

  “Imagine an army of Cadmus Smiths,” said Strike. He shuddered. “I wish I couldn’t.”

  I shuddered even more. “Or even worse, an army of Shades, each one devoted to trolling me for the rest of my life.” I looked at Brains. “Is there any way for the NHA to take the maze away from them or—?”

  Brains shook his head. “Nope. The G-Men can pretty much seize any property they want because of eminent domain. Not sure how they can claim to have an interest in Longworth’s maze, though, or the cloning technology within it.”

  Remembering how the G-Men had originally gotten their hands on Fisticuffs, I could see how the G-Men could justify taking Longworth’s maze, as well as whatever technology and information inside his computer database. I disliked the idea of the G-Men having access to that tech, but on the other hand, perhaps they would find enough evidence to incriminate Seth Richards as well and bring him to justice. I liked to imagine the G-Men kicking down the front door of Seth’s mansion and dragging him out in chains to be shipped off to Ultimate Max or wherever bad guys like him went.

  “I mean, I suppose we could try to sue the G-Men over it, but it’s really hard to win lawsuits against those guys,” said Brains. “Plus, the Leadership Council would murder me if I tried to sue the G-Men without their permission, which is another reason not to do it.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I said with a sigh. “I still wish we had access to the maze, though. There’s probably all sorts of information in there that could help us figure out exactly what Seth Richards is up to.”

  “Does it really matter?” said Strike. “I mean, I know Seth is a bad guy, but at this point, I’m not sure how much of a threat he could really be. He himself said the maze was his biggest cloning facility, and with his top scientist in chains, I bet his whole empire is going to crumble down around him pretty soon, especially if the G-Men can get Longworth to talk. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. It’s only a matter of time before Seth gets busted.”

  I wasn’t quite as optimistic as Strike about Seth getting arrested, but I didn’t want to be a Debbie Downer, so I said, “Well, I hope you’re right. Wait, what about Phaser? Is he—?”

  “Still alive,” said Strike with a scowl. “Even though he looked dead, when I went back into the maze after we got the girls out, his body was gone. There was just a puddle of blood where he was lying, but I didn’t see his body anywhere.”

  “How did he survive?” I said. I pu
t a hand on my chest. “Triplet shot him in the chest.”

  “Guess he must have missed his heart or something,” said Strike with a shrug. “All I know is that he’s still out there somewhere, so I’d suggest keeping your guard up in case he decides to come after you for revenge or something.”

  I gulped, knowing how effective Phaser’s powers were for pulling off assassinations, but maybe Phaser’s injury would force him to take a break for a while, at least until we could catch him and put him behind bars along with his brother. “So when are you and Dizzy going back to California?”

  “Tomorrow,” said Strike, putting his hands on his hips. “The team is going to be really happy to see her again. I’ll make sure to mention how you helped save her. Honestly, Bolt, if I didn’t have your help, I’m not sure I could have ever saved her.”

  I smiled. “Anytime, Strike. I always help my friends with their problems, no matter what.”

  Strike nodded. “All right. Well, I think we’ll just leave you here to rest. As much as I don’t want to hear Dizzy talking about how cute that kid is, I really do want to spend as much time with her as possible before we leave.”

  “I’ll go with you,” said Brains. “And Bolt, if you need anything, just shout, okay?”

  With that, Brains and Strike left the medical room, leaving me lying all by myself in the medical room with no company other than Valerie, who had gone quiet again. I was fine with that, however. I needed some time to think about everything that happened.

  Despite Strike’s assurances that Seth was going to get arrested, I doubted that myself. Sure, losing Vault A undoubtedly was a setback, but Seth struck me as the kind of guy to have all sorts of backup plans in case of emergencies. I couldn’t predict how he would spin this to help himself, but I was sure that as long as he could continue to draw breath, he wouldn’t stop whatever he was trying to do.

  Still, it wasn’t constructive or helpful to think about such things, so I pushed those thoughts out of my mind for now and closed my eyes, allowing my mind to drift off to some much-needed sleep …

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Somewhere in New York City …

  Triplet pulled his collar up a little closer around his neck as a fiercely cold November wind blew through just then. As much as Triplet liked New York City, there were times when he wished the weather could be more like Texas. Today was one of those days: Raining all day long, with freezing temperatures that threatened to turn the city’s many streets and sidewalks into frozen death traps for the unwary. Even someone like him, who was always careful when walking on ice, could easily slip and crack his skull on the pavement if he wasn’t careful.

  Maybe I should start wearing a helmet now, Triplet thought as a bicyclist went zipping past him, forcing several pedestrians to jump out of the way and causing several cars to honk angrily. That way, if I fell, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about cracking my skull open like an egg.

  Luckily, Triplet did not need to spend too much more time out in the cold, wet weather. Up ahead, he saw the stoop and front door of his client’s house. The orange outdoor light looked quite inviting in the cold, dark weather and he caught a glimpse of Christmas lights through the window on the door. The Christmas lights stirred a sense of nostalgia in him. He didn’t celebrate Christmas that much—being a bachelor with no real family to speak of and even fewer friends meant holidays weren’t very fun to celebrate—but the sight of those lights reminded him of his childhood when his parents would put up the Christmas lights and decorations.

  ‘Course, it’s not even Thanksgiving yet and my client already has Christmas decorations up, Triplet thought as he walked up the stoop. Guess they’re ready to get done with the holiday season just like me.

  Triplet rapped on the door three times in rapid succession and waited. He didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and he found himself standing face to face with an elderly black man wearing a dignified black suit who, despite his advanced age, still had a full head of hair, although most of it was gray.

  “Ah, Mr. Hiro,” said the black man in a soft, refined voice. “What an unexpected visit. Are you here about Mr. Richards’s case?”

  Triplet gave a friendly smile, despite how cold it was. “Better than that, Martin. I solved the case and am here to collect my payment.”

  Martin—who was the family butler for Triplet’s client—gaped at him. “You solved it? Already?”

  “That’s what I said,” said Triplet. “Of course, I’ll understand if Mr. Richards isn’t home—”

  “Oh, no, no, he’s home,” said Martin, holding up his hands. “I am simply astonished that you managed to solve the case so quickly. I am sure Mr. Richards will be more than happy to pay you for your trouble. This case has been vexing him greatly over the last month and I am sure he will be very pleased to hear that you have solved it. Please come in.”

  Martin held the door open for Triplet, who entered, grateful that he no longer had to stand outside in the cold New York City weather. The entryway of Mr. Richards’ house was much warmer than outside, making Triplet feel like he had walked into a fireplace. Indeed, he could hear the crackling of wood somewhere ahead of him as he followed Martin up the stairs to the second floor, probably to Mr. Richards’ study, which was where Triplet’s client spent most of his time.

  When they got to the door to his study, Martin stuck his head inside and said something Triplet couldn’t hear, but he did hear an affirmative tone from Mr. Richards.

  Martin looked over his shoulder at Triplet. “Mr. Richards would like to see you now. I’ll leave you two alone so you can discuss this case in private.”

  Martin stepped aside as Triplet entered Mr. Richards’ study and closed the door behind him. It was even warmer in here than it was out in the rest of the hall, with a merrily crackling fireplace off to the side. A large portrait of an elderly man adorned the wall above the fireplace, which Triplet understood was one of Mr. Richards’ ancestors, although he did not know who it was. It was an impressive painting, though, so realistic that it almost looked like a photograph instead of an artist’s representation of a seventeenth-century judge.

  “Mr. Hiro,” said a voice on the other side of the room. “Welcome to my study.”

  Triplet—who had been briefly mesmerized by the large painting above the fireplace—started and looked in the direction from which the voice had come from. A large wooden oak desk, covered with papers, a lamp, and a laptop computer, stood off to the side, with two large bookshelves on either side behind it.

  Sitting behind the desk was a man who Triplet almost mistook for Seth Richards, but there were obvious physical differences. For one, the man wore a dark blue suit and red tie. His facial features were softer than Seth’s. His hair was a good deal darker than Seth’s, too, but his eyes blazed with the same intelligence and drive that Triplet had seen in Seth’s eyes back in the maze.

  “Ho, ho, ho, Mr. Richards,” said Triplet, turning to face him. “Saw the Christmas lights were up already. I didn’t take you to be the kind of guy who would skip Thanksgiving.”

  Mr. Sean Richards—Triplet’s client and the son of Seth Richards—shrugged. “It wasn’t me. My son, Ethan, wanted the Christmas lights up now, even though Thanksgiving isn’t over yet. I usually leave Christmas decoration to Ethan anyway, so I allowed him to do it.”

  Triplet frowned. “Ethan’s here? I thought you told me he was staying with your ex-wife this Thanksgiving.”

  “It was a last minute arrangement,” said Sean. He adjusted his glasses. “Susan said she didn’t want to take care of him, so she let him come over and stay with me over Thanksgiving. He’s going back to her house on Black Friday, however, so he isn’t going to be here forever.”

  There was a hint of pain in Sean’s voice, probably due to how much his divorce with his wife had messed him up. Triplet didn’t know the full details of the divorce—it had happened well before Sean hired him for this case—but he wasn’t about to start asking Sean about a
subject that was obviously very personal.

  Instead, Triplet said, “Can I take a seat? It will be easier to talk to you that way.”

  “Certainly,” said Sean. He gestured at the chair in front of his desk. “Please take a seat.”

  Triplet quickly sat down in the comfy armchair. It was a nice change of pace from walking around in the cold weather, especially with the fire roaring in the fireplace behind him. If he wasn’t here on business, Triplet could have easily fallen asleep in this chair.

  Sean tapped a few keys on his laptop and clicked his mouse a couple of times before closing his laptop and looking directly at Triplet. “Okay, what did you find?”

  Despite how comfortable he was, Triplet leaned forward, his hands clasped together tightly. “I solved the case.”

  Sean nodded. “That is what Martin told me. I’m shocked, honestly, that you solved it so quickly.”

  Triplet didn’t smile. “Martin said the same thing. Apparently, you two forgot when I told you how good of a detective I am.”

  Triplet didn’t want to sound sarcastic, especially when dealing with clients, but he had had a pretty tough week, especially inside the maze, and his patience was wearing thin. He was mostly just interested in getting paid now, although he was also interested in figuring out the connection between Seth and Sean Richards.

  “Apologies if I didn’t believe you,” said Sean. “I’ve hired a lot of detectives of varying quality over the years. I just wasn’t sure at first if you were the real deal or another person with a mouth bigger than your actions.”

  Triplet shrugged. “Being able to split into Thirds is useful for solving cases.”

  “Undoubtedly,” said Sean. He suddenly sipped a cup of steaming coffee Triplet had not noticed. “But continue with your report.”

  “All right,” said Triplet. “You know those girls you hired me to find? The ones that went missing in Virginia? Well, I found them. They were all kidnapped by a man known as Samuel Longworth. Do you know that name?”