Part Nineteen: Hostage Situation
- Location
- Australia
Earning Her Stripes
Part Nineteen: Hostage Situation
[A/N: This chapter commissioned by @Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
Taylor
I knew the bad news as soon as the expression on Emma's face changed. "Shadow Stalker," she snarled. "Leave my parents out of this. This is between you and me."
There was a pause as Sophia answered; I could just about hear her voice, but not what she was saying.
Emma shook her head. "No. We told the police and PRT nothing. All they know is that Shadow Stalker tried to kill Danny Hebert, and we don't know why." There was a brief pause. "Nothing about this is fine. Surrender, and we'll get you the therapy you need. My parents don't need to be any part of this."
It was a good try, but even I knew it wasn't going to work. Sophia Hess? Surrender? In what universe? Emma had to know it too, but she gave it her best try anyway.
It wasn't good enough.
"Got it," she said curtly. She drew breath to say something else, but Sophia must have ended the call because she didn't speak. The hand holding her phone dropped to her side, her expression bleak. "She wants us to meet her at Winslow. We're supposed to bring you and your dad, or Mom and Dad die."
"I'm pretty sure that's my cue to ask, 'what does she want me there for?' quipped Dad, "then for someone else to say, 'nothing good'."
I shook my head. "This is no time for jokes, Dad."
"Wasn't joking. Can you think of even one good reason for her wanting me at this meeting?" He shook his head. "Because I can't."
"I can't either," Emma confessed. "She can't want extra witnesses. And she's already got my parents as hostages."
"She won't want him as a hostage." I was certain of that. "She's tried to kill him once already. Whatever else she has in mind, I don't trust her not to try to pull that shit again."
"I hate to say you're right, but ... you're right." Emma looked at me with pained eyes. "So, what do we do? If Madison and me don't bring you and your dad along, she will kill one of my parents."
Snapping at her that all this was her fault really wouldn't have helped anything. Instead, I tried to think of a solution. Preferably, one that didn't end in anyone I cared for getting hurt.
"The way I see it," Dad said, "we've got three choices. First, we do exactly what she says, and try our best to sidestep any bad endings."
I didn't like that idea at all, but he wasn't finished.
"Second, we bring the PRT in on this and hope they don't fumble the ball so badly that Alan or Zoe die."
Emma looked extremely dubious at that, and I didn't blame her. How were the PRT supposed to contain someone who could walk through walls, much less prevent her from coming back for a second try?
"Third, we pretend to co-operate, and spring a trap of our own." He rubbed his forefinger across his lips. "Now, I'm going to assume Sophia is familiar with your capabilities, and Madison's as well."
"Yeah." Emma nodded. "She's been doing her best to outshine us any way she can, but we've been pushing back. I can kick her ass in any kind of straight fight, and I'm pretty sure she can't phase through good steel. So, whatever happens, she'll be trying to plan around that."
The conclusion was obvious, at least to me. "She'll order you to disarm and lose the armour, for starters."
"That's for starters," Dad acknowledged. "But what's her endgame? And what's the point of trying to kill me? I've never even met her before."
"It's not about you." Madison stepped in through the back door and closed it behind her. "It's about Taylor. Now that Emma and I have come to our senses, she's the only one left riding the Taylor hate train, and she's determined to stay on until the last stop."
"I think you've got it," Emma agreed, then turned to me. "She wants to keep you as the designated villain for the Real Thing, but there are problems with that. The major one being, the original plan to paint you as a villain kind of fell through."
"And that's why she was using the carving knife instead of an arrow!" It all became clear to me. "Murder Dad, frame me with the knife. Either I submit to arrest or go on the run, looking for the real killer. Meanwhile, as the real killer, she's also part of the superhero team that's hunting me down. I'd almost be impressed if I didn't want to kick her face in so badly."
Madison frowned. "I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be hard to clear you, but I'm also certain Sophia doesn't spend much time reading up on police procedures and forensic investigation."
"Let's not test it out, shall we?" Dad shuddered theatrically. "How about we just take it as given that she's got yet another flawed yet grandiose self-serving plan cooked up that involves me dying, Taylor being forced into the life of a villain and her coercing the two of you back into being her meek little pseudo-superheroic minions? I happen to be violently opposed to the very first step in said plan, so I suggest we work on a way of cutting it off at the pass."
I remembered the way that my powers seemed able to selectively ignore the laws of physics as needed, and I smiled. "I think I have an idea. But I'm going to need you two to protect Dad until I can take Sophia down for good."
Madison's head came up at that. "You figure you can take Sophia down? I'm the one with good steel, remember?"
"See this?" Again, I formed the black and white glove covering my hand. "I don't think anything can get through it. Anything. And with it, I'm as strong and fast as I need to be."
"Really." Madison reached down into her boot and pulled out a foot-long blade made of the same shimmery-gray metal that the Blockade suit was composed of. "This is the smallest weapon I'm able to make out of good steel, but you could run over it with an Abrams tank and not even scratch the finish." Flipping it into the air, she caught it by the tip of the blade and offered it in my direction.
"Well, okay then." It seemed to be the time to put my money where my mouth was. Reaching out, I accepted the knife and looked it over. It was sleek and deadly, and the edge looked sharp as fuck. "Um, what if I break it?"
She smiled confidently. "You won't break it. Even if you did, I can make more. But you won't. I had a long and involved argument with Armsmaster over that very topic."
I had a momentary shiver of doubt—she seemed very sure that her 'good steel' could beat anything I could throw at it—but then I quashed it. Winslow was a heap of rubble, and Dad was alive, because of my powers. If I didn't have faith in myself, what could I have faith in?
Putting the point against one palm and the pommel against the other, I began to press my hands together. Emma clenched her teeth, sucking air inward as she watched, apparently certain that I was about to impale my hand. That wasn't going to happen; the instant I felt pain, I would stop. But I had to do this. I had to prove that I was strong enough to stand up to anything Sophia or the others could throw at me.
At first, nothing happened, and Madison's shoulders relaxed slightly. I applied more force, seriously impressed at the tensile strength this stuff was showing. "Wow," I said. "If this thing was normal steel, it would be crumpled in a ball by now."
"I'm impressed with that white covering," Emma confessed. "Good steel doesn't play. It should've gone straight through by now."
"It is kinda tough, yeah, but—" Madison began, then stopped as the knife … creaked.
I was applying more force with my power than I had ever used before, magnitudes more than I'd needed to rip Winslow off its foundations. This was actually an effort. While I could do it, I couldn't guarantee that I was able to rip through any thickness of good steel like I could with ordinary steel, concrete or anything else I'd tried it with. Where normal matter crumbled or shredded with barely any resistance, this stuff pushed back.
Slowly, as Madison's jaw dropped from sheer disbelief, I pushed my hands together, the knife blade bending until it formed a half-circle. And then, with a kpang, it snapped; the pointy end rocketed straight down so fast I was pretty sure it broke the sound barrier. It hit my left foot and stopped dead when it hit the protective covering that formed in front of it, then fell over onto the floor with a clatter.
Still holding the pommel end of the knife, I bent over and picked up the pointy end. It was bent over right at the tip and the rest of the blade had a more gentle curve, as did the remainder of the blade on the other half of the knife. "Here," I said, handing both halves back to Madison. "That stuff's tough as hell. I can see why you thought I wouldn't be able to break it. I nearly couldn't."
"Jesus Christ," whispered Emma. "I wouldn't have thought that was possible."
"It shouldn't be." Madison stared at the broken ends of her knife with the expression of someone whose entire worldview has just been tossed down an elevator shaft. "Nothing breaks good steel. Nothing."
"If it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure my power just says, 'More force? Yes,' when it's trying to do something like that." I raised my eyebrows. "Anyway, are you satisfied that I'm stronger than I look?"
"Uh, yeah," Emma said, then elbowed Madison in the ribs. "Mads?"
Madison blinked and then looked at me. Where before she'd been contrite, now she was showing active respect. "Yeah, I am. So, what's your plan?"
I drew a deep breath. "So, we need to make Sophia think we're doing exactly what she wants us to …"
Alan Barnes
"Okay, pull over here." Leaning forward between the car seats, Sophia gestured with the pistol she'd grabbed from the centre console where Alan had dropped it. While it didn't make her any more lethal than she already was—he'd seen her in action—it made for a handier weapon than the crossbow in close quarters.
He obediently stopped the car where he'd been told, then applied the park brake and turned off the engine. "What now?"
"Pass the keys back here." His heart sank; with the keys out of the ignition, using the car as a means of getting away from the clearly unbalanced cape was no longer on the cards.
He was smart enough not to try to toss them in her face; her mask would take the impact, then she'd probably shoot him somewhere painful, just to make a point. As he was passing them back, he caught sight of his wife's terrified face. "Listen, you can let Zoe go. She doesn't know anything damaging about you. If I told her not to say anything to anyone, she'd stay quiet."
"How very fucking noble of you," Sophia snarled. "You don't get out of it this easily. She gets to share in the consequences of the mistakes you've made, and this way, if you make a break for it? I shoot her. Is that clear?"
"I get it, I get it." Alan wished she'd stop reiterating the threat about shooting either one of them. It honestly sounded like she was working herself up to doing just that, and she just might pick Zoe to make an example out of. "But remind me again; what mistakes have I made that she's paying for?"
"Emma." Sophia sounded like she wanted to punch something. "You totally failed to teach her to never betray her friends. She's stabbed me in the back, and I am going to make sure she understand how big a fucking mistake that was."
"I apologise for her actions," he said at once. "What did she actually do to harm you?"
"She stopped me from doing something that needed to be done, to set things right." That sounded alarmingly vague, but he wasn't sure if he wanted her to clarify it. The less she talked about her crimes, the less danger Zoe was in. "Which means that it's her job to get it done, this time around. That way, nobody needs to say a fucking word about anything that's not their goddamn business. Understood?"
"Totally." He spoke with his warm reassuring courtroom voice, the one he used to convince sceptical judges that his clients were as pure as the driven snow, your honour. "And then Zoe and I get to go home, right?" It was a long shot, but if he could plant that idea in her head as early as possible, she might even go through with it.
"Yeah, probably. If you behave." That wasn't totally reassuring, but he had to hope she'd keep her word, or that Emma would somehow be able to pull off a miraculous rescue. "Okay, out of the car. And Barnes, remember: if you run, I shoot wifey."
"I won't run." He climbed out of the car and waited as Sophia zip-tied Zoe to the passenger-side door, passing the tie through the open window. Off to the side, dimly illuminated by the distant city glow, the heap of rubble that had once been Winslow lay like a slain giant. Not for the first time, he wondered who had blown it up, and why.
Just as Sophia was fastening his wrists to the driver's side door, he heard a distant thunder in the night sky, steadily getting louder. She tilted her head and he heard the triumph in her voice as she spoke.
"Here they come. Now pay careful damn attention. I want you to remember everything you see."
Leaning into the car, she fumbled with the keys before managing to turn on the ignition. Then she flicked the headlights on, illuminating an area of ground in front of the vehicle. With a self-satisfied hmh, she stepped aside, awaiting whatever that was making that noise.
It gradually got louder and louder, then cut out briefly. When it resumed, it was much louder and he was able to pick out an orange flare in the sky, apparently travelling straight towards them. Jesus Christ. He'd heard a rumour that Blockade's power armour had jump jets, but this was ridiculous.
At the angle it was travelling, it didn't seem to be going very fast, but then he noticed that the flare was getting bigger.
A lot bigger.
And louder.
He wasn't totally sure if this was due to it getting closer, or increasing thrust, but the analytical part of his mind kept insisting that 'both, definitely both' was the correct answer. It was a fascinating sight; he just wished he wasn't sitting in the front-row seats for the show, so to speak.
Dust and gravel and pieces of dead grass blew up around him as the Blockade armour came in for a landing. His ears were numb from the roar of the thrusters, and he had to use his free hand to shield his face from the flying debris, but it was still a magnificent sight.
The jets, or rockets, or whatever the suit used to propel itself, cut out just as it settled on to the impromptu landing pad. In the ensuing silence, his ears rang almost as loudly, as if they were trying to make up for the difference. Brightly illuminated by the headlights, it was even more impressive than when he'd seen it in the news, especially after that dramatic entrance.
Shadowed figures slid off the back of the suit, and Sophia stepped forward into the light. Alan guessed her intent was to be menacingly silhouetted. "You bring Hebert?" she called out challengingly. "You better have." With one hand, she straight-armed the pistol back toward Alan's face.
"I'm here," Danny Hebert said, stepping out from behind the Blockade armour. "You don't need to hurt anyone. Just let them go." There was a new dressing on his neck, which Alan connected with Emma's mention of a murder attempt.
Emma was at Danny's side; or rather, Firebird. He had to admit to himself that he never would've recognised her in costume if she hadn't outed herself to him. The metal accoutrements to her costume, especially the throwing discs on her forearms, gleamed with moving, dancing flames as she stepped forward.
"Like the man says." Her tone was hard and flat. "Nobody else has to get hurt, tonight."
Sophia brought up the crossbow she had in her left hand, aiming it at Danny Hebert's face. "Shut up. You don't get to tell me what to do." She tilted her head, apparently trying to look past them. "Where is she? Where's Hebert? I told you to bring her!"
Emma smiled. "Oh, she'll be here in a second."
"Don't try to play games with me!" shouted Sophia. "I told you what would hap—"
And then Taylor arrived.
About Thirty Seconds Before
Taylor
It was crowded on the back of the Blockade armour, but I didn't care. While Dad clung to the hand-grip with both hands, his eyes tight shut, I maintained a hold with just one and looked around with interest. I wasn't quite sure how high up we were, but the lit-up cityscape below was fascinating.
Madison's voice suddenly crackled in the borrowed earpiece I was wearing. "Turnover in ten."
Cheating a little, I formed a shell around my face to cut the noise of the thrusters—and the slipstream—so I could reply without shouting. "Gotcha." Then I reached across and tapped Emma on the shoulder.
Emma got the message immediately and gave me a thumb's up, then swapped handgrips so she'd be closer to Dad. I waited a few more seconds, bringing my legs up under me to save time. At the same time, I pulled up the protective covering all over my body and changed the tinting to dead black.
The thrusters cut out, and the suit began to turn over. Emma grabbed Dad to make sure he stayed on board, and I ... jumped. I used all the physics trickery I'd learned my powers could pull not to drive Madison and her passengers straight down into the ground, while vaulting far higher than my legs would've been able to send me with all the training in the world. Spreading my arms and legs, I glided, virtually weightless (according to my power, anyway) while watching the Blockade armour falling away below me.
It was easy to see where we were supposed to go. There was an elongated pool of light, made by a set of car headlights near the rubble of Winslow. But I couldn't see Sophia, and I couldn't see Emma's parents. I kept gliding, assisted by tiny fins and airfoils that popped out of my arms and legs.
Madison landed the suit in the middle of the lit-up area. Even from my altitude, I could tell she'd touched down as lightly as a four-ton butterfly. Emma and Dad got off the back of the suit; the plan at that point was for Emma to tell me where Sophia was, but it got better than that. Sophia actually stepped into the light, casting a huge shadow, but with one arm pointed back into the darkness.
I'd been about to land right in front of her, but it was possible for her to still kill one of her hostages even if I punched her out on the spot, so I changed my aimpoint. Emma, at least, I trusted not to let her shoot Dad. Angling over slightly, I made my final adjustments, then told my powers that it was okay to let gravity take over for a bit now.
And I dropped, a whole lot faster than any rock. Afterward, I realised that deciding to fall was not the same as turning off the 'ignoring gravity' aspect. I needed to be on the ground, so my powers moved me to the ground very quickly indeed.
For the next half-second or so, I couldn't see a thing, then my vision cleared. I was standing next to Mr Barnes' car, and in fact next to Mr Barnes, still wearing my all-black colouration. More or less by instinct, I grabbed his shoulder and exerted my protection over him.
At the same time, I heard Sophia's voice. "—what would happ—what the fuck?"
She fired off a shot not from her crossbow (which I was kind of expecting) but from a pistol. It wasn't clear whether she was aiming at me and was just a terrible shot, or she was actively trying to pull a fuck-you on Emma, but either way the bullet hit Mr Barnes in the forehead … and flattened against the bone underneath.
Okay, I wasn't having any more of that. Surging forward, I grabbed the pistol before she could fire again, and squeezed. Unlike the good-steel blade, it squished like modelling clay between my fingers; Sophia let go just in time before her fingers would've been trapped, and stared at me.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, bringing the crossbow around to point at me. Not that she was waiting for an answer; as soon as it was in line with my chest, she pulled the trigger.
The arrow bounced, of course, and I caught it. Then I shifted my outer covering to the pattern I'd come up with at the bank. It looked pretty cool, I figured, even heroic.
"Your worst fucking enemy," I retorted, unable to help myself. And to be honest, as corny as the line was, it was accurate. I doubted anyone hated Sophia more than I did right then, as much for the murder attempt on Dad as for the months of torment. And whatever she did, I could counter. I was literally the worst person in the world for her to have as an enemy.
She looked down at the empty crossbow, then up at me. I dropped the destroyed pistol on the ground and reached out to grab her arm, but she'd already decided that discretion was the better part of whatever twisted value system she ascribed to. By the time I completed the action, she'd bolted for it.
"Shit," said Madison. "If she gets to the houses, we'll never catch her."
Fuck that. Free, with time to plan and room to move, she'd be an ongoing threat to Dad, Emma, Madison, and their respective parents. Emma was already prepping one of her throwing discs, but I had a weapon of mine all ready to go. Holding the arrow like a dart, I threw it as hard as I dared at the flitting shadow; as when I'd dropped out of the sky, my vision blanked for an instant. The krak of the arrow breaking the sound barrier echoed back from the distant houses … and did nothing.
I'd either missed or she'd gone to shadow at just the right moment. Okay, fine. Make me chase you.
Glancing around at Emma, I snapped, "Shield!"
She acted on instinct, bracing herself with one of the throwing discs held in front of her. I leaped up and kicked off the shield in the same way that I'd launched myself off Madison's suit. Arrowing across the open ground, I caught up with Sophia in just a few seconds. She looked over her shoulder and went to shadow again, but deep down I knew it wouldn't matter.
For a split second, I was tempted to punch her head clean off, but at the last instant I changed my aimpoint, swinging my fist low and connecting with her hip. Even though she was in shadow, I felt something break. Transitioning back to solid, she let out a shriek and fell headlong. At the same time, I let myself stop, landing lightly on my feet.
"Wow, damn," I said, looking down at the way her leg was twisted. "That looks painful."
She glared at me, then went back to shadow; I reached down and picked her up by the scruff of her ghostly neck. She struggled feebly, but I wasn't playing that game. With her alternating between shadow and solid, and not liking it either way, I hauled her back to the others.
When I got there, I saw that Mr and Mrs Barnes had been freed, and were rubbing their wrists. They stared at Sophia as I tossed her into the pool of illumination thrown by the headlights. She was flickering between shadow and solid, but she stopped anyway when Madison put out her powersuit's foot.
"Okay, you caught her," said Dad. "What happens now?"
"I don't know," I confessed. "Alive, imprisoned, she might escape and come back for revenge. Or, you know, we could put an end to her here and now."
"Do you really want to do that?" asked Mr Barnes, putting his hand on my arm and ignoring the growing bruise the bullet had left on his forehead. "It makes for a terrible precedent." He paused. "You do want to be a hero, right?"
I turned away from him. He made sense. Too much sense. I didn't want someone talking me out of erasing Sophia Hess. Everyone here had been targeted by her; they should've been talking me into it.
Sophia was fully solid now, but she wasn't snarking at us so I figured she'd passed out. It looked like she was still breathing, so there was that. Emma knelt next to her, examining the damage, then glanced up at me. "I'm not gonna tell you what to do, but I'm asking this. You want to take over leadership of the Real Thing? Mads and me wouldn't argue."
"I'm hardly a hero," I confessed. "I damaged stuff. I broke things." Like Winslow. "Right now, if Sophia gave me half an excuse to finish her off once and for all, I'd take it."
"And she'd welcome it." I hadn't noticed Madison climbing out of her suit. "Right now, crippled and unconscious, she's weak. She hates weakness. If she was conscious, trapped here in front of us, she'd do her best to taunt you into killing her. For her, it's preferable to the alternative. Juvey then adult prison, with one hip that'll never work properly again? That would be hell on earth for her. You've won. If you kill her now, you hand the victory straight back to her."
I sighed. "Okay, fine. Call the PRT. We'll hand her in." I turned and pointed at Madison. "But I will totally be taking over the leadership of the Real Thing, and I expect you assholes to do what I say. Got it?"
"Got it." She nodded seriously. "But what do we call you? I mean, I like the stripes, but there's not really a theme there."
"What, like a tiger?" I rolled my eyes. "Get real. But sure, there's a theme. My whole look is black and white."
"So, what do we call you?" asked Emma.
I considered the question. "I was thinking … Monochrome."
End of Part Nineteen
Part Nineteen: Hostage Situation
[A/N: This chapter commissioned by @Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
Taylor
I knew the bad news as soon as the expression on Emma's face changed. "Shadow Stalker," she snarled. "Leave my parents out of this. This is between you and me."
There was a pause as Sophia answered; I could just about hear her voice, but not what she was saying.
Emma shook her head. "No. We told the police and PRT nothing. All they know is that Shadow Stalker tried to kill Danny Hebert, and we don't know why." There was a brief pause. "Nothing about this is fine. Surrender, and we'll get you the therapy you need. My parents don't need to be any part of this."
It was a good try, but even I knew it wasn't going to work. Sophia Hess? Surrender? In what universe? Emma had to know it too, but she gave it her best try anyway.
It wasn't good enough.
"Got it," she said curtly. She drew breath to say something else, but Sophia must have ended the call because she didn't speak. The hand holding her phone dropped to her side, her expression bleak. "She wants us to meet her at Winslow. We're supposed to bring you and your dad, or Mom and Dad die."
"I'm pretty sure that's my cue to ask, 'what does she want me there for?' quipped Dad, "then for someone else to say, 'nothing good'."
I shook my head. "This is no time for jokes, Dad."
"Wasn't joking. Can you think of even one good reason for her wanting me at this meeting?" He shook his head. "Because I can't."
"I can't either," Emma confessed. "She can't want extra witnesses. And she's already got my parents as hostages."
"She won't want him as a hostage." I was certain of that. "She's tried to kill him once already. Whatever else she has in mind, I don't trust her not to try to pull that shit again."
"I hate to say you're right, but ... you're right." Emma looked at me with pained eyes. "So, what do we do? If Madison and me don't bring you and your dad along, she will kill one of my parents."
Snapping at her that all this was her fault really wouldn't have helped anything. Instead, I tried to think of a solution. Preferably, one that didn't end in anyone I cared for getting hurt.
"The way I see it," Dad said, "we've got three choices. First, we do exactly what she says, and try our best to sidestep any bad endings."
I didn't like that idea at all, but he wasn't finished.
"Second, we bring the PRT in on this and hope they don't fumble the ball so badly that Alan or Zoe die."
Emma looked extremely dubious at that, and I didn't blame her. How were the PRT supposed to contain someone who could walk through walls, much less prevent her from coming back for a second try?
"Third, we pretend to co-operate, and spring a trap of our own." He rubbed his forefinger across his lips. "Now, I'm going to assume Sophia is familiar with your capabilities, and Madison's as well."
"Yeah." Emma nodded. "She's been doing her best to outshine us any way she can, but we've been pushing back. I can kick her ass in any kind of straight fight, and I'm pretty sure she can't phase through good steel. So, whatever happens, she'll be trying to plan around that."
The conclusion was obvious, at least to me. "She'll order you to disarm and lose the armour, for starters."
"That's for starters," Dad acknowledged. "But what's her endgame? And what's the point of trying to kill me? I've never even met her before."
"It's not about you." Madison stepped in through the back door and closed it behind her. "It's about Taylor. Now that Emma and I have come to our senses, she's the only one left riding the Taylor hate train, and she's determined to stay on until the last stop."
"I think you've got it," Emma agreed, then turned to me. "She wants to keep you as the designated villain for the Real Thing, but there are problems with that. The major one being, the original plan to paint you as a villain kind of fell through."
"And that's why she was using the carving knife instead of an arrow!" It all became clear to me. "Murder Dad, frame me with the knife. Either I submit to arrest or go on the run, looking for the real killer. Meanwhile, as the real killer, she's also part of the superhero team that's hunting me down. I'd almost be impressed if I didn't want to kick her face in so badly."
Madison frowned. "I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be hard to clear you, but I'm also certain Sophia doesn't spend much time reading up on police procedures and forensic investigation."
"Let's not test it out, shall we?" Dad shuddered theatrically. "How about we just take it as given that she's got yet another flawed yet grandiose self-serving plan cooked up that involves me dying, Taylor being forced into the life of a villain and her coercing the two of you back into being her meek little pseudo-superheroic minions? I happen to be violently opposed to the very first step in said plan, so I suggest we work on a way of cutting it off at the pass."
I remembered the way that my powers seemed able to selectively ignore the laws of physics as needed, and I smiled. "I think I have an idea. But I'm going to need you two to protect Dad until I can take Sophia down for good."
Madison's head came up at that. "You figure you can take Sophia down? I'm the one with good steel, remember?"
"See this?" Again, I formed the black and white glove covering my hand. "I don't think anything can get through it. Anything. And with it, I'm as strong and fast as I need to be."
"Really." Madison reached down into her boot and pulled out a foot-long blade made of the same shimmery-gray metal that the Blockade suit was composed of. "This is the smallest weapon I'm able to make out of good steel, but you could run over it with an Abrams tank and not even scratch the finish." Flipping it into the air, she caught it by the tip of the blade and offered it in my direction.
"Well, okay then." It seemed to be the time to put my money where my mouth was. Reaching out, I accepted the knife and looked it over. It was sleek and deadly, and the edge looked sharp as fuck. "Um, what if I break it?"
She smiled confidently. "You won't break it. Even if you did, I can make more. But you won't. I had a long and involved argument with Armsmaster over that very topic."
I had a momentary shiver of doubt—she seemed very sure that her 'good steel' could beat anything I could throw at it—but then I quashed it. Winslow was a heap of rubble, and Dad was alive, because of my powers. If I didn't have faith in myself, what could I have faith in?
Putting the point against one palm and the pommel against the other, I began to press my hands together. Emma clenched her teeth, sucking air inward as she watched, apparently certain that I was about to impale my hand. That wasn't going to happen; the instant I felt pain, I would stop. But I had to do this. I had to prove that I was strong enough to stand up to anything Sophia or the others could throw at me.
At first, nothing happened, and Madison's shoulders relaxed slightly. I applied more force, seriously impressed at the tensile strength this stuff was showing. "Wow," I said. "If this thing was normal steel, it would be crumpled in a ball by now."
"I'm impressed with that white covering," Emma confessed. "Good steel doesn't play. It should've gone straight through by now."
"It is kinda tough, yeah, but—" Madison began, then stopped as the knife … creaked.
I was applying more force with my power than I had ever used before, magnitudes more than I'd needed to rip Winslow off its foundations. This was actually an effort. While I could do it, I couldn't guarantee that I was able to rip through any thickness of good steel like I could with ordinary steel, concrete or anything else I'd tried it with. Where normal matter crumbled or shredded with barely any resistance, this stuff pushed back.
Slowly, as Madison's jaw dropped from sheer disbelief, I pushed my hands together, the knife blade bending until it formed a half-circle. And then, with a kpang, it snapped; the pointy end rocketed straight down so fast I was pretty sure it broke the sound barrier. It hit my left foot and stopped dead when it hit the protective covering that formed in front of it, then fell over onto the floor with a clatter.
Still holding the pommel end of the knife, I bent over and picked up the pointy end. It was bent over right at the tip and the rest of the blade had a more gentle curve, as did the remainder of the blade on the other half of the knife. "Here," I said, handing both halves back to Madison. "That stuff's tough as hell. I can see why you thought I wouldn't be able to break it. I nearly couldn't."
"Jesus Christ," whispered Emma. "I wouldn't have thought that was possible."
"It shouldn't be." Madison stared at the broken ends of her knife with the expression of someone whose entire worldview has just been tossed down an elevator shaft. "Nothing breaks good steel. Nothing."
"If it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure my power just says, 'More force? Yes,' when it's trying to do something like that." I raised my eyebrows. "Anyway, are you satisfied that I'm stronger than I look?"
"Uh, yeah," Emma said, then elbowed Madison in the ribs. "Mads?"
Madison blinked and then looked at me. Where before she'd been contrite, now she was showing active respect. "Yeah, I am. So, what's your plan?"
I drew a deep breath. "So, we need to make Sophia think we're doing exactly what she wants us to …"
<><>
Alan Barnes
"Okay, pull over here." Leaning forward between the car seats, Sophia gestured with the pistol she'd grabbed from the centre console where Alan had dropped it. While it didn't make her any more lethal than she already was—he'd seen her in action—it made for a handier weapon than the crossbow in close quarters.
He obediently stopped the car where he'd been told, then applied the park brake and turned off the engine. "What now?"
"Pass the keys back here." His heart sank; with the keys out of the ignition, using the car as a means of getting away from the clearly unbalanced cape was no longer on the cards.
He was smart enough not to try to toss them in her face; her mask would take the impact, then she'd probably shoot him somewhere painful, just to make a point. As he was passing them back, he caught sight of his wife's terrified face. "Listen, you can let Zoe go. She doesn't know anything damaging about you. If I told her not to say anything to anyone, she'd stay quiet."
"How very fucking noble of you," Sophia snarled. "You don't get out of it this easily. She gets to share in the consequences of the mistakes you've made, and this way, if you make a break for it? I shoot her. Is that clear?"
"I get it, I get it." Alan wished she'd stop reiterating the threat about shooting either one of them. It honestly sounded like she was working herself up to doing just that, and she just might pick Zoe to make an example out of. "But remind me again; what mistakes have I made that she's paying for?"
"Emma." Sophia sounded like she wanted to punch something. "You totally failed to teach her to never betray her friends. She's stabbed me in the back, and I am going to make sure she understand how big a fucking mistake that was."
"I apologise for her actions," he said at once. "What did she actually do to harm you?"
"She stopped me from doing something that needed to be done, to set things right." That sounded alarmingly vague, but he wasn't sure if he wanted her to clarify it. The less she talked about her crimes, the less danger Zoe was in. "Which means that it's her job to get it done, this time around. That way, nobody needs to say a fucking word about anything that's not their goddamn business. Understood?"
"Totally." He spoke with his warm reassuring courtroom voice, the one he used to convince sceptical judges that his clients were as pure as the driven snow, your honour. "And then Zoe and I get to go home, right?" It was a long shot, but if he could plant that idea in her head as early as possible, she might even go through with it.
"Yeah, probably. If you behave." That wasn't totally reassuring, but he had to hope she'd keep her word, or that Emma would somehow be able to pull off a miraculous rescue. "Okay, out of the car. And Barnes, remember: if you run, I shoot wifey."
"I won't run." He climbed out of the car and waited as Sophia zip-tied Zoe to the passenger-side door, passing the tie through the open window. Off to the side, dimly illuminated by the distant city glow, the heap of rubble that had once been Winslow lay like a slain giant. Not for the first time, he wondered who had blown it up, and why.
Just as Sophia was fastening his wrists to the driver's side door, he heard a distant thunder in the night sky, steadily getting louder. She tilted her head and he heard the triumph in her voice as she spoke.
"Here they come. Now pay careful damn attention. I want you to remember everything you see."
Leaning into the car, she fumbled with the keys before managing to turn on the ignition. Then she flicked the headlights on, illuminating an area of ground in front of the vehicle. With a self-satisfied hmh, she stepped aside, awaiting whatever that was making that noise.
It gradually got louder and louder, then cut out briefly. When it resumed, it was much louder and he was able to pick out an orange flare in the sky, apparently travelling straight towards them. Jesus Christ. He'd heard a rumour that Blockade's power armour had jump jets, but this was ridiculous.
At the angle it was travelling, it didn't seem to be going very fast, but then he noticed that the flare was getting bigger.
A lot bigger.
And louder.
He wasn't totally sure if this was due to it getting closer, or increasing thrust, but the analytical part of his mind kept insisting that 'both, definitely both' was the correct answer. It was a fascinating sight; he just wished he wasn't sitting in the front-row seats for the show, so to speak.
Dust and gravel and pieces of dead grass blew up around him as the Blockade armour came in for a landing. His ears were numb from the roar of the thrusters, and he had to use his free hand to shield his face from the flying debris, but it was still a magnificent sight.
The jets, or rockets, or whatever the suit used to propel itself, cut out just as it settled on to the impromptu landing pad. In the ensuing silence, his ears rang almost as loudly, as if they were trying to make up for the difference. Brightly illuminated by the headlights, it was even more impressive than when he'd seen it in the news, especially after that dramatic entrance.
Shadowed figures slid off the back of the suit, and Sophia stepped forward into the light. Alan guessed her intent was to be menacingly silhouetted. "You bring Hebert?" she called out challengingly. "You better have." With one hand, she straight-armed the pistol back toward Alan's face.
"I'm here," Danny Hebert said, stepping out from behind the Blockade armour. "You don't need to hurt anyone. Just let them go." There was a new dressing on his neck, which Alan connected with Emma's mention of a murder attempt.
Emma was at Danny's side; or rather, Firebird. He had to admit to himself that he never would've recognised her in costume if she hadn't outed herself to him. The metal accoutrements to her costume, especially the throwing discs on her forearms, gleamed with moving, dancing flames as she stepped forward.
"Like the man says." Her tone was hard and flat. "Nobody else has to get hurt, tonight."
Sophia brought up the crossbow she had in her left hand, aiming it at Danny Hebert's face. "Shut up. You don't get to tell me what to do." She tilted her head, apparently trying to look past them. "Where is she? Where's Hebert? I told you to bring her!"
Emma smiled. "Oh, she'll be here in a second."
"Don't try to play games with me!" shouted Sophia. "I told you what would hap—"
And then Taylor arrived.
<><>
About Thirty Seconds Before
Taylor
It was crowded on the back of the Blockade armour, but I didn't care. While Dad clung to the hand-grip with both hands, his eyes tight shut, I maintained a hold with just one and looked around with interest. I wasn't quite sure how high up we were, but the lit-up cityscape below was fascinating.
Madison's voice suddenly crackled in the borrowed earpiece I was wearing. "Turnover in ten."
Cheating a little, I formed a shell around my face to cut the noise of the thrusters—and the slipstream—so I could reply without shouting. "Gotcha." Then I reached across and tapped Emma on the shoulder.
Emma got the message immediately and gave me a thumb's up, then swapped handgrips so she'd be closer to Dad. I waited a few more seconds, bringing my legs up under me to save time. At the same time, I pulled up the protective covering all over my body and changed the tinting to dead black.
The thrusters cut out, and the suit began to turn over. Emma grabbed Dad to make sure he stayed on board, and I ... jumped. I used all the physics trickery I'd learned my powers could pull not to drive Madison and her passengers straight down into the ground, while vaulting far higher than my legs would've been able to send me with all the training in the world. Spreading my arms and legs, I glided, virtually weightless (according to my power, anyway) while watching the Blockade armour falling away below me.
It was easy to see where we were supposed to go. There was an elongated pool of light, made by a set of car headlights near the rubble of Winslow. But I couldn't see Sophia, and I couldn't see Emma's parents. I kept gliding, assisted by tiny fins and airfoils that popped out of my arms and legs.
Madison landed the suit in the middle of the lit-up area. Even from my altitude, I could tell she'd touched down as lightly as a four-ton butterfly. Emma and Dad got off the back of the suit; the plan at that point was for Emma to tell me where Sophia was, but it got better than that. Sophia actually stepped into the light, casting a huge shadow, but with one arm pointed back into the darkness.
I'd been about to land right in front of her, but it was possible for her to still kill one of her hostages even if I punched her out on the spot, so I changed my aimpoint. Emma, at least, I trusted not to let her shoot Dad. Angling over slightly, I made my final adjustments, then told my powers that it was okay to let gravity take over for a bit now.
And I dropped, a whole lot faster than any rock. Afterward, I realised that deciding to fall was not the same as turning off the 'ignoring gravity' aspect. I needed to be on the ground, so my powers moved me to the ground very quickly indeed.
For the next half-second or so, I couldn't see a thing, then my vision cleared. I was standing next to Mr Barnes' car, and in fact next to Mr Barnes, still wearing my all-black colouration. More or less by instinct, I grabbed his shoulder and exerted my protection over him.
At the same time, I heard Sophia's voice. "—what would happ—what the fuck?"
She fired off a shot not from her crossbow (which I was kind of expecting) but from a pistol. It wasn't clear whether she was aiming at me and was just a terrible shot, or she was actively trying to pull a fuck-you on Emma, but either way the bullet hit Mr Barnes in the forehead … and flattened against the bone underneath.
Okay, I wasn't having any more of that. Surging forward, I grabbed the pistol before she could fire again, and squeezed. Unlike the good-steel blade, it squished like modelling clay between my fingers; Sophia let go just in time before her fingers would've been trapped, and stared at me.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, bringing the crossbow around to point at me. Not that she was waiting for an answer; as soon as it was in line with my chest, she pulled the trigger.
The arrow bounced, of course, and I caught it. Then I shifted my outer covering to the pattern I'd come up with at the bank. It looked pretty cool, I figured, even heroic.
"Your worst fucking enemy," I retorted, unable to help myself. And to be honest, as corny as the line was, it was accurate. I doubted anyone hated Sophia more than I did right then, as much for the murder attempt on Dad as for the months of torment. And whatever she did, I could counter. I was literally the worst person in the world for her to have as an enemy.
She looked down at the empty crossbow, then up at me. I dropped the destroyed pistol on the ground and reached out to grab her arm, but she'd already decided that discretion was the better part of whatever twisted value system she ascribed to. By the time I completed the action, she'd bolted for it.
"Shit," said Madison. "If she gets to the houses, we'll never catch her."
Fuck that. Free, with time to plan and room to move, she'd be an ongoing threat to Dad, Emma, Madison, and their respective parents. Emma was already prepping one of her throwing discs, but I had a weapon of mine all ready to go. Holding the arrow like a dart, I threw it as hard as I dared at the flitting shadow; as when I'd dropped out of the sky, my vision blanked for an instant. The krak of the arrow breaking the sound barrier echoed back from the distant houses … and did nothing.
I'd either missed or she'd gone to shadow at just the right moment. Okay, fine. Make me chase you.
Glancing around at Emma, I snapped, "Shield!"
She acted on instinct, bracing herself with one of the throwing discs held in front of her. I leaped up and kicked off the shield in the same way that I'd launched myself off Madison's suit. Arrowing across the open ground, I caught up with Sophia in just a few seconds. She looked over her shoulder and went to shadow again, but deep down I knew it wouldn't matter.
For a split second, I was tempted to punch her head clean off, but at the last instant I changed my aimpoint, swinging my fist low and connecting with her hip. Even though she was in shadow, I felt something break. Transitioning back to solid, she let out a shriek and fell headlong. At the same time, I let myself stop, landing lightly on my feet.
"Wow, damn," I said, looking down at the way her leg was twisted. "That looks painful."
She glared at me, then went back to shadow; I reached down and picked her up by the scruff of her ghostly neck. She struggled feebly, but I wasn't playing that game. With her alternating between shadow and solid, and not liking it either way, I hauled her back to the others.
When I got there, I saw that Mr and Mrs Barnes had been freed, and were rubbing their wrists. They stared at Sophia as I tossed her into the pool of illumination thrown by the headlights. She was flickering between shadow and solid, but she stopped anyway when Madison put out her powersuit's foot.
"Okay, you caught her," said Dad. "What happens now?"
"I don't know," I confessed. "Alive, imprisoned, she might escape and come back for revenge. Or, you know, we could put an end to her here and now."
"Do you really want to do that?" asked Mr Barnes, putting his hand on my arm and ignoring the growing bruise the bullet had left on his forehead. "It makes for a terrible precedent." He paused. "You do want to be a hero, right?"
I turned away from him. He made sense. Too much sense. I didn't want someone talking me out of erasing Sophia Hess. Everyone here had been targeted by her; they should've been talking me into it.
Sophia was fully solid now, but she wasn't snarking at us so I figured she'd passed out. It looked like she was still breathing, so there was that. Emma knelt next to her, examining the damage, then glanced up at me. "I'm not gonna tell you what to do, but I'm asking this. You want to take over leadership of the Real Thing? Mads and me wouldn't argue."
"I'm hardly a hero," I confessed. "I damaged stuff. I broke things." Like Winslow. "Right now, if Sophia gave me half an excuse to finish her off once and for all, I'd take it."
"And she'd welcome it." I hadn't noticed Madison climbing out of her suit. "Right now, crippled and unconscious, she's weak. She hates weakness. If she was conscious, trapped here in front of us, she'd do her best to taunt you into killing her. For her, it's preferable to the alternative. Juvey then adult prison, with one hip that'll never work properly again? That would be hell on earth for her. You've won. If you kill her now, you hand the victory straight back to her."
I sighed. "Okay, fine. Call the PRT. We'll hand her in." I turned and pointed at Madison. "But I will totally be taking over the leadership of the Real Thing, and I expect you assholes to do what I say. Got it?"
"Got it." She nodded seriously. "But what do we call you? I mean, I like the stripes, but there's not really a theme there."
"What, like a tiger?" I rolled my eyes. "Get real. But sure, there's a theme. My whole look is black and white."
"So, what do we call you?" asked Emma.
I considered the question. "I was thinking … Monochrome."
End of Part Nineteen
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