by C. C. Ekeke
They both agreed Vulcan couldn’t be a suspect. “He’d be upfront about his killing,” Quinn added.
“Unless coerced…or controlled,” Helena added with a grin. “Maybe his daddy Zeus told him to kill Titan.” The women laughed morbidly. After some back and forth, they kept Vulcan as a person of interest.
“Dynamo,” Quinn suggested, referring to the Vanguard’s resident android.
“Eh.” Helena shrugged. “He'd be powerful enough to off Titan.”
“Paragon?”
Helena looked at Quinn sideways. “That’s a stretch. There are satellites dedicated to tracking if Paragon returns from space.”
Quinn huffed in frustration. All these suspects were still what-ifs without solid proof.
She watched Helena lean toward the photo of a pale girl with hypnotic blue eyes, dark-brown hair pulled back tight. She wore a tuxedo with a wing collar shirt and bowtie.
“The Amazing Evangeline?” Helena eyed Quinn skeptically.
“Evangeline performed in San Miguel on June 26th,” she said. “And magic can hurt Titan.” Quinn didn’t know why an Irish magician would want Titan dead, but Evangeline remained a person of interest. After running through a few lesser-known superheroes, Quinn felt guilty for not discussing Seraph. But that would force her to reveal the Seraph and Blur relationship. And no way would Helena sit on that scoop. Besides, Mikaela wouldn't go that far to hide her relationship with Blur. Then again, she’s cheating on her fiancée with a teenager while lying about being a virgin. Quinn focused on the final suspect, who grinned like an idiot in his photo. Beach-blonde hair, blue eyes, and traditional handsomeness. He looked more Ken Doll-like than Sentinel.
“Tomorrow Man’s powerful enough,” Quinn stated, downing a glass of water.
Helena snorted. “But not smart enough.”
Quinn raised her brow at such shortsightedness. “Years of trying to become a famous hero. Countless gimmick repackagings.” Digging into Tomorrow Man’s past in the Interwebs had yielded treasure troves of dirt. “That could make a person bitter or insane.”
Helena’s eyes lit up. “Killing the world’s greatest hero, frame his arch nemesis, then anoint yourself the new heir-apparent?” Tomorrow Man became a suspect.
Quinn then recalled the team that Annie’s fiancé had mentioned. “Let’s include the Elite too.”
Helena stared at her blankly. “Who?”
“New Superhero team that’s not public yet,” Quinn explained, moving to the kitchen to dump her empty cup. “Each member is based on different mythology.”
Helena made a face. “That could either be awesome or really stupid. Know any more?”
“Not yet. I’ll see what my friend knows.”
Helena studied her with probing eyes. “Which superhero are you working with?”
Quinn stiffened. “Someone not on Vanguard.” She wouldn’t lie or reveal everything.
“Okay.” Helena’s patience evaporated. “Then who?”
Quinn shook her bushy, kinky-haired head. “Saying more compromises their identity.” And his mission to protect San Miguel. She'd seen reports yesterday of Ukrainian Brotherhood and Sun Lau Clan gang leaders getting dumped at police stations.
“Fine,” Helena said stiffly. Quinn’s stonewalling clearly angered her. “What do you need from me?”
Quinn considered the request. She hadn’t mentioned the crew of teen fixers involved, mainly for Helena’s safety. Geist had said he’d handle them, so Quinn would trust his word. “I need help locating which suspects were in San Miguel on June 26th,” she requested. “My own search has only gotten so far. And my contact is booked.”
“Done.” Helena nodded, slipping back into her leather jacket.
“Thank you,” Quinn stated. “And again, sorry.” It gutted her, disappointing her mentor so publicly.
Helena stared at her in surprise. “I should be apologizing. For not listening.” She cupped Quinn’s face in calloused hands. “I should’ve trusted that you actually had a solid story.”
Quinn’s eyes watered as the emotional roller coaster of the last few days came back to mind.
After Quinn got fired on Monday, she’d left the SLOCO Daily office in tears. When Helena had called hours later, she almost hadn’t answered.
Helena had been sobbing over the incident. “Jono went behind my back and told Packer,” she’d wept. “By the time I heard about everything, I was being told by my bosses to fire you!”
Quinn had then spoken to the editor-in-chief almost two hours, laying out most of her Lord Borealis investigation. Never had she mentioned Geist or having another partner.
Helena pecked Quinn’s forehead, looking her over like a loving mother. “Once you have unshakeable proof of Lord Borealis's innocence, we’ll publish the story and bring you back,” she promised, just like on Monday. “Titan's real killer can be a follow-up story.”
Quinn wiped away budding tears. “Okay.” Knowing Helena had her back was a relief. No longer did she feel so isolated. After the pair exchanged a long hug and their farewells, Quinn asked something that had nagged her for months. “Why Jono? He’s so beneath you.”
Helena’s features darkened, and for a second, Quinn thought she’d overstepped. But exhaustion smothered the older woman’s indignance. Suddenly, Helena looked ten years older than forty-five.
“I love him,” the editor-in-chief admitted in a low, ragged voice. Her eyes were empty, drained of any life. “I wish I didn’t. But…I love Jonothon McGowan.”
Quinn ached seeing Helena like this. She’d be fine without a partner if they were toxic like Jono. “You deserve someone worthy of what you have to offer,” she replied firmly.
Helena shrugged, clearly not convinced. “Don’t we all,” she whispered in resignation.
Chapter 24
A week away with Lauren had been exactly what Greyson needed. They’d gone southwest, visiting the Grand Canyon and Sedona. Hiking through endless red mesas and buttes with Lauren had taken his mind off the superhero drama at home. Greyson had missed just “being” Greyson.
That was why returning to St. Louis had been hard for Greyson. But the morning before they’d boarded their return flight in Flagstaff, Greyson had promised Lauren that his devotion would be for her only. “No more distractions. No more secrets. You’re my everything.”
Lauren’s delirious joy had made his heart soar. Then she’d pounced on him. They’d almost missed their flight from the ensuing quickie.
After returning to St. Louis and picking up their car, Greyson dropped Lauren off at the Genex Labs office. She looked polished, professional, and so sexy in her pantsuit and pulled-back hair. Greyson was tasked with dropping their baggage at home before heading to work.
“Lunch?” Lauren asked. “At Ally’s Bakery?”
A smile pulled at Greyson’s lips. They usually lunched twice a week. “Wouldn’t miss it,” he murmured happily.
Lauren’s toothy smile lit up her beautiful face. “Perfect,” she purred. “See you soon, baby.” Lauren snuck in a lingering kiss, then popped out of the car and headed into her office building.
Watching her walk away, slender curves swaying side to side, stayed with Greyson on the ride home. How could he have been so selfish in this relationship? His days of saving St. Louis were over.
Greyson entered his apartment, still high off Lauren’s kiss, when his cellphone buzzed. Placing down two suitcases, he answered. The ID was blocked. “Hello?” Greyson asked, expecting a telemarketer.
“Thank god!” Letty sounded relieved and breathless. “Where are you?”
Greyson frowned. “About to leave for work.” He hadn’t expected to hear from Letty or Dr. St. Pierre, especially on his main cell. “Why are you calling this number—?”
“Listen!” Letty barked. “OSA is coming to arrest you. Tom flipped on Heroes Anonymous.”
Greyson was so shocked, Letty saying Heroes Anonymous didn’t even bother him. “What? Why?”
“S
till fact-finding,” Letty replied. By the background noise, she was driving at high speeds. “Don’t have the details yet as I had to go mobile.”
“Oy vey.” Greyson sat heavily on his couch as his knees buckled. Who could blame Tom for choosing himself over everyone else? “How…how come you’re…mobile?” he managed to ask.
“Tom also revealed Richard’s connection to y’all,” she added. “He’s had to go dark when they raided his office. Now they’re arresting anyone connected to his alter ego. Including me.”
The revelations struck like rapid-fire body blows. Greyson felt his stomach's violent rebellion. “Jesus!” Post-vacation bliss was replaced by terror. “And the others?”
“OSA grabbed Kathy and Izzie.” Letty paused for a brief, loaded moment. “It got ugly. You still have time to escape.”
Escape? Greyson realized Letty’s meaning. Escape meant leaving his apartment immediately, leaving St. Louis, and never looking back. Escape meant never seeing Lauren or his family again. His legs turned leaden. “What about Connie?” he asked in flat tones.
“Greyson, this is no time—”
He wouldn’t budge. “Connie?” She was the only ex-teammate he had left.
Letty sighed with annoyance. “OSA is on their way to grab her.”
Greyson jerked upright. “She’s at UMSL Grad School?” The wheels in his mind began turning.
Letty’s tone sharpened. “Don’t you dare do anything stupid.” She started barking orders. “Get on the freeway and drive until you’re past the Missouri border. Then ditch your car and get a rental with the fake IDs and debit cards we provided. But if they catch you.” Letty’s voice grew quiet and shaky. “Don’t resist like Kathy and Izzy. Just…surrender…”
The titanic shift his life had just taken was too agonizing. Greyson felt like a drowning man in the middle of the Mississippi. “Letty—”
“Goodbye, Greyson…” She hung up.
Greyson stood in his common room, barely coherent. I have to leave. Now. The words pushed Greyson into action. He grabbed his still-packed suitcase and dashed for the door. Soon, Greyson returned to Lauren’s car. Taking his own car would get him nabbed. Greyson pulled out of the parking lot. A right turn would take him to the nearest highway, where open road awaited. But not freedom. Greyson winced. Life as a fugitive wasn’t freedom. This whole scenario was surreal. How had his life gone from bliss fifteen minutes ago to this?
Greyson clutched the steering wheel with trembling fingers, about to leave his apartment forever.
Forever. The realization broke through Greyson’s numbness. He thought of Connie, whose life would be over after following him into battle. For believing in Hurricane. He was about to fail Connie. Like he’d failed Tom.
Guilt was a clenched fist squeezing his heart. “No.” Greyson made a hard left, racing down the street.
Greyson could sense a disturbance upon reaching the campus with its loose cluster of charming old buildings. Many cars exited the entry gates, a subtle alarm blanketing the air as students scurried around in panic. Is OSA here? he wondered.
Greyson knew he could still escape. Turn around and run, a voice resembling Lauren’s pleaded. Risking his freedom and safety for Connie? But she was his teammate. He saw no other avenue.
Greyson pulled into an empty lot half a mile away in a barely populated park.
In short order, he grabbed his hockey mask, slipped it on. “Give me strength and give me swiftness,” he pleaded to himself. Glancing around to ensure the coast was clear, Greyson then negated the gravity tethering him to earth. Moments later, he floated high above the lot, the cars below now toy-sized. Then a realization smacked Greyson upside the head. He had no idea where Connie lived on campus. Another reason to back out of this horribly bad decision.
Greyson shook his head, staying the course. “Guess I’ll have to search high.” He headed east, rocketing across gloomy grey skies and over the campus.
At first, Greyson saw nothing but buildings and near microscopic, antlike people moving about the UMSL campus. He could kick himself for not learning where Connie lived. “Shit,” he swore over the winds pounding against him. “This just got harder.” Had OSA already snatched her up? Greyson steeled his doubts away, soaring past more antiquated buildings and crisscrossing streets. Levitating had grown much easier than the first few times. A pity he had no time to enjoy the feat.
It was then that Greyson noticed five black SUVs several miles below clustered in front of a brownish apartment complex. That many of those SUVs always meant federal authorities. And the growing crowd across the street couldn’t be a coincidence.
Greyson’s heart thudded faster. He increased his gravitational pull and floated down. A closer glimpse confirmed Greyson’s fear. OSA SUVs, like the ones that had encircled the community center during Excessive Menace’s hostage crisis. Praying for courage, Greyson hovered in midair and waited.
Ten minutes later, eight OSA agents in black riot gear emerged from the building. Greyson gasped beneath his mask. Four were carrying someone between them. From this high up, Greyson couldn’t ID the face but could discern her petite figure. Connie! Greyson increased his gravitational pull without thinking and plummeted, air whistling past.
Old grey buildings loomed closer and larger. The black SUVs ballooned in size. Every OSA agent looked up and shouted in alarm. Half of them clawed for their firearms. A month ago, seeing guns pointed at him would’ve petrified Greyson. He was still scared, but not petrified.
At the last moment, Greyson halted his plummet and floated mere inches from the ground. Simultaneously, he increased the gravity of the OSA agents’ guns with a dismissive hand wave.
Several cried out and crumpled, their guns weighing more than trucks. The foursome dropped their shackled hostage like a sack of dirt.
Greyson spotted Connie’s motionless body, eyes closed and face bruised. His fury ignited.
Gasps sounded from the bystanders across the street as the four OSA agents still standing whipped out their weaponry. More agents popped out from the parked SUVs. “Freeze!” one barked. “Or else.”
Greyson scowled beneath his hockey mask and clenched both fists, cocooning every OSA agent and car in an invisible blanket of gravity. He lifted his hand, negating the SUVs’ gravity. They floated skyward, weightless.
Meanwhile, each OSA agent collapsed, pinned to the earth by increasing body weight. Greyson had amplified their gravitational pull eight times over. He couldn’t keep this strenuous concentration long, his muscles already starting to burn. Greyson dashed for Connie, stepping over pinioned OSA agents groaning and threatening him.
Raven-black hair pooled around her head. She's sedated, Greyson realized. Seeing complex metal shackles holding both arms behind her back, Greyson turned to the nearest OSA agent. Rummaging through his belt, he found what resembled a three-foot tuning fork.
The forked ends sparked with blue volts, but the shackles had no keyhole. With no options, Greyson jammed the ends of the fork into the shackles. Sparks showered out from the restraints, forcing him to turn away. In short order, the shackles loosened and slid off Connie’s arms.
“One obstacle down.” Greyson shook Connie. After a minute, her eyes fluttered open. Relief washed over Greyson.
Connie looked up, seeing him. Her immediate elation dwarfed any disbelief. She opened her mouth. "Gre—."
Greyson placed a finger to her mouth. “You hurt?” he whispered.
Grogginess aside, she understood and nodded. “You came for me.” Connie sounded surprised.
“Of course.” Greyson glanced around, breath labored. The street crowd was growing and advancing. Plus, pinning these agents down while floating the SUVs was exhausting. Wasting no time, Greyson scooped Connie up in his arms and stood. She wrapped both arms around his neck right as he negated their personal gravity, rocketing up in a loud swoosh. Shocked cries from bystanders and pinned OSA agents quickly went silent.
Only then did Greyson release the
SUVs floating high above campus.
The vehicles rose higher, shrinking into tiny black dots, finally vanishing into the overcast layer. At the same time, Greyson let go of the OSA agents below. And he remembered to breathe again. That didn’t erase his wholesale panic. Attacking OSA agents? Greyson's brain could barely process his actions. Or the guilty thrill.
Once the lot Greyson had parked at came into view, he amplified his gravity and lowered them down. Who knew how long they had until OSA located them?
Connie relaxed her grip around his neck but held him close. “What happened?” she asked, hair whipping against her face. “I thought we were safe.”
Greyson grimaced, recalling what led him to this moment. “Not anymore,” he stated, landing noiselessly on cracked gravel. “Tom betrayed everyone. Even Hurricane.”
Chapter 25
Quinn texted encouragement to her cousin while waiting outside Mistura, a Paso Robles restaurant she loved. The Peruvian bistro wasn’t full for a late Saturday afternoon.
Me: Good luck tonight. I want a recap afterward.
Jordana: Will do, prima guapa. Luv you!
Maybe if all went well, Quinn could find out if Jordana's crush was Hugo Malalou, as suspected. Still no word from Geist since Monday about addressing these teen fixers possibly connected to Titan’s killer. Not when news kept popping up about this Ukrainians vs. Chinese gang war still going on. Helena was still following up on which superheroes were in San Miguel the night of Titan’s murder.
In the meantime, Quinn decided to investigate the Elite. Her dinner date would happily get Quinn access to any info she needed. Dressed in a V-neck army camouflage onesie over a grey tank top, Quinn barely felt the afternoon chill. Especially wearing a slouchy purple beanie over her bushy hair.
“Hey, friend,” a familiar voice greeted.
Quinn looked up from her phone and smiled. “Hey!” She scurried forward. “I’ve so missed your face.”
Annie Machado, wearing a white button-down blouse and khakis, returned Quinn’s hug with unusual stiffness. The tight-lipped smile not reaching her eyes also concerned Quinn. Something’s up. She’d ask after getting their table.