by Jobe, David
“I royally screwed the pooch on this one.” He shook his head.
“The dude tried to get another police officer to shoot you. If it weren’t for that trick of yours, your brains would be all over the basement floor, and that douche-nozzle would be free.” Grimm took a drink, his eyes looking over the room as if first noticing the gloomy nature.
“This is uncharted territory. Here the Chief was just talking about how I was violating laws having that guy down there, and now I shot him. What was I thinking? The press and lawyers will have a field day with me. Who knows what will happen to everyone on the team.” His hands shook more as he took another sip.
“I read somewhere that ninety percent of the things we fear will happen will never come to pass. Maybe this will all blow over.” He didn’t sound hopeful, but Lanton had to give him credit for trying.
“Any time you hear the amount ninety as a percentage, it’s pure bullshit.” Lanton gave a dry laugh. “There’s a lightning storm coming, and I’m the moron holding up a metal rod. I had to have been crazy to accept this position. Or to think I could do it.”
“Speaking of, that crazy lady is back.”
Lanton frowned at Grimm. “I am going to need you to be more specific.”
Grimm chuckled. “The morgue lady.”
“Carrie Anne?”
Grimm nodded. “Apparently she showed back up a couple of days ago like she had never left. When they asked her about it, she said that she was on vacation. That she had told somebody, but when pressed she just started yelling at them in Spanish, Mandarin, whatever it is she speaks.”
“Portuguese.”
“Which makes it more odd, if you think about it.”
“What’s that?”
“You said she was from the Dominican Republic, right? They don’t speak Portuguese there. They speak Spanish, or variations of it. I’ve got to tell you, Boss, I think that lady is hiding quite a bit about herself. How closely has anyone looked into her past? I mean, really looked? She just happens to show up after our coroner dies, and she has exactly what she needs to slip into the part. It just feels like one of the shows where they find out after a dude has murdered like twenty people in his practice that he was never really a doctor, just a talented con man.” Grimm set his drink down in the seat next to him. He leaned forward to whisper the next. “I bet that chick has a basement full of body parts. How do we even know that she didn’t steal all those bodies?”
Lanton laughed. “I think we determined who the body snatchers were, Grimm. Remember, that’s part of why we’re here. I think you referred to them as aliens.”
“They are aliens,” Grimm defended. “I’ve seen the bodies. You can’t tell me those things aren’t aliens.”
Lanton stopped, something occurring to him. “Did they take the bodies to Carrie Anne then?”
Grimm threw up his hands. “Great, the Corpse Collector has alien bodies now. This is Roswell all over again.”
Lanton chuckled. “Those shows are going to rot your brain.”
“You leave my shows alone.”
“Officer Lanton?”
Lanton looked up to see six people enter the waiting room from the direction of the elevators. Four men and two women marched across the open area in steps that were in unison. They wore matching black shirts and black and grey fatigue pants tucked into combat boots shined to a high polish. The men all sported the same buzzed cut and chiseled jaw. Though their nationalities differed some, each looked carved from the same muscular template.
It was a tall, dark-skinned man that spoke. He had a scar along the side of his head that ran from just above his right eye over his ear and vanished under his collar. “Are you Officer Lanton?”
Lanton stood, handing the cup of coffee to Grimm. “I am. And you are?”
The man held out his hand and shook Lanton’s with reserved strength. “I am Agent Jameson of Homeland Security.”
Grimm groaned but then stifled it behind his own cup of coffee.
“How may I help you, Agent?” Lanton threw Grimm a disapproving glare before turning back to the agent.
“I and my team are here to collect Mr. Holger.”
“You are?” Grimm and Lanton said in unison.
“Did you not state to your Chief that this man was a threat? That his actions were akin to terrorism? That he is using his new powers to leave a swath of bodies behind him?”
“That wasn’t Lanton,” Grimm said. “That was entirely too eloquent to have been Lanton. He would have said something like, ‘This dude is trippin’.”
Both Lanton and the Agent turned to look at Grimm, saying nothing.
“I’ll shut up now,” Grimm said into his coffee.
Lanton turned back to the agent. “So, you’re aware of his powers?”
“We are.”
“How long have you been aware?” Lanton tried to keep his voice from sounding tired.
“I understand where you’re going with this. We were not aware of his abilities until it showed up in your report.” The agent stepped forward. “Though you may not believe this, you and I are on the same side. From now on, should you run into an Altered whose powers fall outside the jurisdiction of the law, please feel free to give us a call.” He handed Lanton a card that just had a number on it.
That reminded Lanton. “Do you have an ID, Agent Jameson?”
The agent smirked and nodded. He pulled a badge from his back pocket and showed it to Lanton. “Will this suffice?”
Lanton shrugged and gave it back. He’d never seen a Homeland Security card, but it looked legit. “So, what happens next?”
Agent Jameson turned and nodded to his people. As one, they moved away, heading toward the door that led to the operating rooms. He turned back to Lanton. “We’ll be taking custody of Mr. Holger. We’ll be taking him to a secure facility where he’ll be detained, provided that he survives his wounds.” A smirk played across his lips again. “We have also taken custody of the two corpses at your station.” He held up a hand to stop either Grimm or Lanton from speaking. “I’ve already got this cleared through your chief. All our paperwork is in order, I assure you.” He leaned in close to Lanton. “You should be thankful. Since we’re taking this over, everything leading up to this has fallen under national security and will not be something that could be contested by the courts or media. It all just goes away, and you get to go back to being the hero everyone THINKS you are.” He leaned back, giving Lanton a meaningful look.
Lanton sighed and gave a dismissing wave of his hand.
The agent nodded and then marched away.
After the doors swung shut and Lanton and Grimm were alone again, Grimm whispered, “What was all that about?”
Lanton stared at the door. “I think that was the B Team?”
“Who was the A-Team?”
“The two I shot.” Lanton shook his head and held his hand out for his coffee.
Grimm’s face distorted in confusion. “You mean they work for the aliens?”
Lanton gave a soft snort. “I think the aliens worked for the same person these people worked for.”
“The president?”
Lanton turned to regard his partner. “You worry me, sometimes, Grimm. I’m not sure those people were actually a part of Homeland Security.” He picked up his jacket off the chair. “Let’s go. Looks like there’s no reason for me to wait around anymore.”
Grimm fell into step beside him. “Maybe they work for evil alien overlords. Or lizard people!”
“Seriously, Grimm. Those shows are bad for you.” Lanton couldn’t help but smile.
“Wait, were they the A-Team because they were aliens? A for aliens.”
Lanton shook his head. “Then what would the B stand for?”
“Bad-asses. You see them? Even the women looked like they could break a man in half. I mean, not that I wouldn’t date one, but I sure wouldn’t want to go up against one of them.” Grimm stepped into the elevator.
Lanton stepped in
beside him. “Yeah. I think it’s a bad idea to fight them.”
Grimm cast Lanton a suspicious look. “But that’s exactly what you are going to do, isn’t it?”
“Probably.”
Part Two
Chapter Fifteen
Heavy Handed Response
“They’re coming to kill you.”
Allison leaned against the refrigerator, casting a worried glance at the door leading to the entertainment room where the little girl slumbered. “That’s all it says?”
“Yup,” Mac replied, stuffing the phone back into his pants pocket.
“Do you have any idea who sent it to you?”
Mac sighed. “My gut says it’s my father. The text was from a number I didn’t know, but he has so many. Besides, it’s just his style. Vague, ominous, with important information but no real help.” He began to pour himself a drink, but then remembered he wasn’t allowed anything with carbonation. He slid the glass of energy drink across the center counter toward Allison.
“You going to call in the troops?” Allison picked the drink up and gave it a sip. Her pretty lips pulled back in a frown. “This taste like jet fuel.”
Mac gave a dry laugh. “I miss the taste of those. But no, I’m not going to call in anyone. I am not sure who ‘they’ are. Could be it is other law enforcement, and then Lanton and Grimm would be asked to choose sides. Julian’s fighting his own battles with that psychopath stalking his family.”
“You could at least ask him to bring you the shield generator.” Allison took another sip and gave another look of disgust.
Mac shook his head. “I’ve been studying up on how gravity works. I’m still at the beginning stages, but I think I can at least deflect anything that is thrown at me if I build a field with gravity around me. Make bullets and such change course away from me.”
Allison raised a brow. “Have you tested that theory?” She picked up a spoon and lobbed it at him.
The spoon flew at him and at the last moment shifted trajectories and hit the cabinets to the left of him. He gave her a knowing smile.
“That’s not proof enough. I’ll grab the rifle and post up on the roof.”
Mac shook his head. “No guns in the house. No prototypes at all. Dad cleaned the place out after he found out we-I had stolen his prototype rifle. Not even a pistol in the house. Besides, I need you to take ‘little bit’ to the panic room and keep her safe. I’m not sure how she will react if she senses that we’re in danger, and that thing she became in the hospital is several layers of scary.”
“Yeah,” Allison said into her drink. “She scares me. But what is this about a panic room? Why have I never seen the panic room?” Mac noticed a bit of excitement in her eyes.
“Because you’ve never been panicked.” He chuckled. “It’s downstairs. Once you hit the basement, turn Thor’s hammer to the left. It’ll open up. Once inside the controls are pretty well labeled.”
“Thor’s hammer.” She gave him a steady stare.
“It’s a cool hammer. Now get going. I’m going to meet them outside. Remember, don’t let the girl know what is going on. I don’t want you trapped in a room with her if she is freaking out.”
Allison nodded, setting the half-finished drink down. “Why don’t we just run? Have you fly us out of here.”
Mac shook his head. “I’m done running. Plus, I’m under house arrest, remember? If I leave, I give the law an excuse to come down on me. If I stand and defend myself, I still have a chance of surviving the legal battle that follows. I’ll be safe. I doubt they know what I am capable of. But I’ll show them the gravity of the situation.”
“Did you- Did you just make a pun?” She stared at him.
“Perhaps.” He smiled wide.
“So cheesy.” She rolled her eyes. She came around the counter and embraced him in a kiss that lasted forever and was still too quick. Breathless she pulled away. “If it comes down to you or them, it better be them, you understand? Batman’s biggest flaw was he kept letting killers live when he was justified to end it.”
Mac gave a soft laugh. “You’re a female punisher, you know that?”
She looked down at the black shirt she was wearing, pulling at it enough to make Mac think of other things. “This would look good with a big skull on it.”
“Go, before I drag you to the panic room and…”
She gave a soft giggle and a wink, then disappeared through the doorway. Beyond he could hear her talking in soothing voices to the little girl.
“Please don’t have her freak out and become that thing,” He said to himself. Though his walking was a bit slow going, he left through a different door, moving through his workshop. There he donned a Kevlar vest, just in case and activated Asimov.
The drone hovered in the air for a moment before asking. “Perimeters?”
“Stealth. Observe only. Stay within five feet of me. I’ll be modifying gravitational fields outside that range.”
“Understood, Sir.” Asimov vanished before him, enabling his stealth technology. You could still see the outline of it if you knew where to look, but for the most part, it remained invisible. If only he could modify the technology for something larger than a hover-camera.
“One day, I’ll make that applicable to larger things. A cloak of invisibility would go good about now.”
“As would a wand, I am sure,” Asimov said from over his left shoulder. “Perhaps a broom as well?”
Mac laughed and began to walk toward the open center of the house that had the tree devoted to his mother. Once there he rose from the ground, lifting himself over the two-story building and gliding toward the front area of the house and the circular driveway beyond. As he topped the rise of his house, he found himself staring at a red sunset that lit up the Indianapolis skyline beautifully. Mac’s home rested on a large hill to the north that gave him a wonderful view of the skyline of downtown. Beyond that, he could see the final crest of the sun dropping below the horizon.
At the base of the sloping hill, where the winding driveway met the road, he could see three vehicles turn in, their lights bright and bold in the gathering gloom. Judging from the shapes of their shadows, two vehicles appeared to be SUVs or maybe even Hummers. The one in the middle looked to be one of those old Army personal transport vehicles with the cloth backs. Their engines roared as they climbed the hill and slipped through the open gate into the large circular driveway. The two SUVs pointed to either side while the transport vehicle parked between them.
Mac floated down to stand before the large bronze double doors that marked the entrance to his house. “You are on private property. Please leave.” He tried to keep his tone civil and not relay the fear that coursed through his body.
Figures dressed in all black poured from the vehicles, each sporting a variety of weaponry that appeared more imposing than the next. They wore what looked like riot or gas masks, and their bodies were decked out in body armor that made them all look uniform. Other than the weapons of choice, he couldn’t tell one from the next, or what gender they might even be. They poured out until around twenty of them stood before him, fanning out into a line with guns aimed at him. Mac tried to see if he could make out any insignia on them, but they didn’t appear to be wearing anything that told what group they might belong to.
Mac smiled. That meant this was probably some form of black op group or mercenary. Which meant they would have no badges to insist that he cooperate. “I suggest you put the guns down. I’m not coming with you, and you aren’t going to kill me. Get back in your vehicles now, and this’ll be all over without any bloodshed.”
The figure in the middle moved out a bit from the crowd, raising some form of an assault rifle. The gun barked three times, the blast from each lighting up the area in bright flashes. Each bullet slammed into the ground a few feet in front of Mac. He had thought about deflecting them to the left or right, but wasn’t sure how powerful the rounds might be and really didn’t want holes in his house.
&n
bsp; “My turn,” Mac said. He raised his left hand as if he were tossing a ball up into the air.
The figure that had shot at him shot up into the air, screaming as he or she did. All heads watched the shooters ascent. The screaming person rose to about a hundred feet within seconds before coming to a stop, hovering there, arms and legs flailing. Mac snapped the fingers on his left hand, and the person dropped like a stone to the hard asphalt below. Landing with a bone-shattering thud, the shooter screamed all the louder and started trying to drag themself back to the truck, bent legs trailing behind.
“Anyone else want to test my patience?” Mac tried to keep from hacking up bile as he spoke.