Hi all, thanks for looking in at this. Just a heads up that content wise this will follow in the same vein as my previous SG story ie non sexual.(and good news, its not as long as my usual stuff - 10-11 posts!)
SUPERGIRL AND THE MAYAN PROPHECY
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Kara, in her alter ego of Linda Lee walked down the marbled corridors of city hall with a soft, repetitive tap of her old sneakers announcing her progress towards the Mayor’s office. She was slightly surprised to be summoned in the manner she had been, by an announcement at the end of the evening news, saying that the Mayor was already in consultation with Supergirl on a matter of national importance with a follow up meeting to be held in his office the following day at 11. It was deliberately low key and down played, and the fact that no press were camped outside to try and find out what the matter was seemed to indicate that they had been briefed to keep quiet. No doubt all parties promised a scoop later. So something quite genuinely big then, she surmised. And serious.
But above all, strange. It was because she was deep in thought that she walked straight passed the security guards stationed outside the Mayor’s office as she headed straight for the door that lead to the civic head of the city.
“Whoa-whoa-whoa! Where the hell do you think you’re going, honey?” cried the overweight security guard behind the desk. His equally large colleague hurried over from a filing cabinet to stand between her and the door , melodramatically spreading his hands wide. Though he had only trotted a few feet, he was panting and breathing heavily. “NO-ONE ……HUH….huh…huh…no…one…gets to see….the….the Mayor…with…without ….without going through…..through US!” he gasped, pointing to himself with a jerk of his thumb.
Somehow, Kara thought that this probably wouldn’t be too difficult even without superpowers. She smiled secretly to herself.
“I believe I am expected?” she said still not really concentrating on the situation but thinking of what this might all be about. It was as the last word was uttered she realized her mistake.
“Uh-huh. He ain’t seein’ nobody this morning except Supergirl,” said the guard behind the desk, “and trust me lady, you ain’t her.” He cast a disparaging eye up and down her baggy, casual clothes, general dowdiness, plain brown hair and glasses.
Kara suddenly realized she was literally inappropriately dressed to meet the Mayor. He was awaiting Supergirl and in her day dreaming state she had arrived as Linda. Stupid and careless of her. She covered for her mistake. “Oh….oh wait! It’s the 19th today right? My bad , I’m supposed to interview him for my college paper , but I think I got the days mixed up, its next week. Really sorry.“ Then mischievously, she continued “So….Supergirl is coming here? To see you guys?“
“She sure is” the standing guard, now recovered, pulled up his belt importantly. He hadn’t seen his feet in many years. “Well…us and the Mayor” he coughed after the stretched truth, then he coughed again as he told downright lies “Yeah,…er…yeah we see her a lot… she comes down here to see us all the time…Harry and me, ya know….cos we …er…we.. we help her out like with stuff, ya know… discuss crimefighting stuff…like all the time…” He looked at Harry for back up, which was duly coming.
“Oh yeah, all the time… Dave an’ me are always helping her out…” said Harry, slightly unconvincingly.
“Really? Wow! She must really think a lot of you guys…do..do ya think I could hang around, maybe listen in on you briefing her, maybe interview you and her for the college paper….?” Kara asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“What?!! Oh, no, no miss that’s quite out of the question! We’re far too busy…”
“Yeah and the briefings are secret” Harry added desperately.
‘So secret even I don’t know about them’ Kara thought to herself, smiling.
“So, er…she’ll be here any second”, Dave stammered, “w-we’re gonna have to ask you to leave immediately”.
“Yeah, you’d best skedaddle” Harry confirmed.
“Sure. Sorry guys. My bad, I’ll come back when I got the right day…leave you to …er…your secret briefings…”
“Yeah, you do that honey, but don’t you print any of that! Warning you now!” Harry wagged a finger at her as she backed away.
“Sure” she mimed zipping her lips fast. “Not a soul” she smiled to herself as she turned away from them, disappearing around the corner, out of view. She waited a few moments, checking a cleaning cupboard was unlocked then looking up and down the corridor.
“Oh, hi Supergirl!” she said loudly after a few paces before spinning on her heel and calling
“Good morning citizen”. In that instant Linda had disappeared in a red and blue blur. The loose fitting jeans were gone, hidden in a cleaning closet, replaced by a crimson skirt, thigh length, with a bright yellow belt. Her well worn sneakers had now vanished, in their stead were knee high red leather boots, with a thin yellow/gold trim at the top which rose to a slight point at the front. A creaseless, smooth, long sleeved blue top covered her upper body instead of the oversized brown baggy sweater she was wearing. From the neck of her top, a rich red cloak hung down to the back of her knees. Emblazoned within a shield on the centre of her impressive chest was a large red ‘S’ on a yellow background. Her glasses had gone as had her mousey brown hair, replaced by a shower of shimmering white gold, falling to rest on her strong, young shoulders. Her face was radiant with innate beauty, her eyes a clear blue, twinkling as they caught the light. Her looks could stop a train just as easily as her strength. She was transformed into Supergirl once more.
She strolled back around the corner purposefully “Hi, guys, is the Mayor in? I’m here to see him” she said with a dazzling smile.
Harry and Dave were just standing there , awestruck, simply staring at her.
“Guys?”
Harry moved from around the desk, mouth open, bumping into Dave as he did so. The two bickered and pushed each other, jostling for position to address her. Harry won.
“Er…er…yeah, yeah he’s in...but …er..you …er…you can’t just breeze in there you know…” he said as Dave again spread his arms to bar the doorway.
“We gotta check you in Supergirl, we’re security you know. We’re all that stands between the head of the city and that crazy broad Anna Keys.” Harry continued.
“Oh, for the love of-“ Dave rolled his eyes “That ain’t no person, ya big dummy! It’s like, ya know, no rules and stuff. The rule of the mob. Anarchy. And no, NOT the Mafia.”
“Like the wrestling, with the cage matches?” Harry struggled to grasp the concept.
“Er, guys?” Supergirl tried again for their attention.
“Yeah, sorry Supergirl, we just gotta do our thing here. Now, name?”
“Er...you said it…I’m Supergirl.”
“You got any id?” Harry asked.
“Well…there’s this…” she stuck out her chest slightly and pointed to the large 'S' that resided there.
“Oh God yes!” said Harry, glassy eyed, as Dave slammed the back of his hand into his shoulder in a friendly slap to break the spell.
“Let’s just check the list” Dave said importantly, as he looked down an appointment book that had only one entry on it , her name alongside 11 o’clock, ringed twice and with a little love heart someone had drawn next to it that said ‘Dave and SG 4 eva’.
“It’s right there” said Supergirl leaning forward.
“Don’t tell us our job, ma’am. Let’s just see…now…Supergirl, Supergirl, Supergirl-ah there you are!” Dave said as if the name had been hiding all along. “I…er..I guess its ok for you to go in, but….er… really I’m supposed to frisk you…”he said optimistically.
She cast him a withering look and he quickly relented. “Oh, but ..er…I’m sure you are ok.”
As Supergirl moved towards the door, Harry trotted around to block her path once more.
“Ummmm...Er…I was kinda wondering, you know…I’m into law enforcement myself” her showed her the patch that said ‘SECURITY’ in the shield on the grey sleeve of his uniform shirt, “and , er, I keep an eye on my neighbourhood, ya know, do stakeouts an’ stuff. Keep an eye out for trouble…that kinda thing”.
“Really?” said Supergirl , slightly bemused by where this was heading and wondering to herself if he possibly meant ‘take-outs’.
“Yeah…I…er…go on patrol, anti-crime patrol that is, most nights”.
“Yeah , he goes an’ stakes out a stool in his local bar” scoffed Dave.
Harry shot a blistering look at his co-worker before continuing. “So I was thinking….maybe we could get together sometime and ….ya…know….discuss crimefighting techniques…”
“Oh,”said Supergirl, feigning interest. “Have you ever actually arrested someone?”
“Er…n-not as such no…”Harry stammered.
“He had a cardiac arrest once!” Dave piped up, which made Supergirl hide a quick smile.
“Well, I use the power of flight, my X-ray and heat vision, my freezing breath, and I have the ability to lift a truck if I have to, to fight crime. What do you use?” she asked.
“I…er…I…”
“He uses the threat of sitting on someone!” Dave chipped in helpfully as Harry went bright red.
Supergirl smiled, placatingly. “Look guys, the Mayor, remember? I really ought to go in” she said as she moved passed a crestfallen Harry. She turned back in the doorway and smiled gently at him, before switching to a rather sultry smile that she used to encompass them both. “Maybe some other time, guys.” Then, out of pure devilment she gave them a very sexy wink. She had no idea why exactly, it just amused her a little to tease them, and she knew it would make their day. If not their lifetime.
She knocked politely and entered, smiling to herself, before forcibly suppressing it. The fun and games were over. It was time to find out what all the fuss was about.
Behind her, Harry slapped Dave with the back of his hand. “Ya see that? She winked at me!”
Mayor Reynolds was seated at his desk, a large window behind him. An attractive older woman, perhaps in her early sixties, was fussing over him, holding a file. She had elegant cheek bones and still possessed a classic beauty that said she must have been a real looker in her younger days.
Reynolds by contrast had a round face that was instantly likable. His eyes gave him the look of a man who was constantly amused at the world. Next to them both was an obviously harassed young functionary. They both looked up as she entered and the Mayor rose to greet her, offering his hand as he came around the desk.
“Ah, good, you got the message. I’m so glad. Forgive me, but we didn’t really know how to get a hold of you.” He clasped her hand in both of his and looked at her intently. “Wow. Just…wow. Oh, forgive me, I’m Mike Reynolds, the Mayor, so very pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise, Mr Mayor” Supergirl said primly. “The honour is all mine.”
“If I were 20 years younger…” Reynolds said wistfully.
“You’d still be 20 years too old for the poor girl” said the woman behind him.
He turned with a gestured arm to indicate her “Oh and that’s my secretary, Eddy, sorry Edwina.”
He held the back of his hand in front of the corner of his mouth and in a loud stage whisper said ”Don’t tell the wife but I been banging her senseless for years!”
“MIKE!” Edwina screeched, before laughing and slapping him across the back with the file that she held.
“Oh…er…well…ok” said Supergirl, shocked by his candor.
“Don’t pay him any attention , sweetie, I AM his wife! You stop teasing the poor girl” she scolded her husband. “This is a serious business” she said, her smile vanishing.
“Sorry. Sorry Eddy” he said sheepishly. “And my aide, Tom Lewis” the young man nodded. As did the Kryptonian, back to him.
Supergirl turned on her heel to face the silent stranger in an anonymous grey suit, leaning with his butt on the side windowsill, arms folded, looking at her. “And you are….?”
The man didn’t answer, just shifted his weight uncomfortably and coughed, obviously not enjoying the scrutiny.
“Oh that’s Mr Wilson…he represents certain….national interests in this matter” the Mayor answered.
“Supergirl.” Wilson said curtly, again shifting his weight.
So he’s government, she thought. And quite a shady part of Government at that.
Wilson finally spoke. “I’m just here to observe the briefing and answer any questions you may have afterwards.”
The Mayor perched on the corner of his desk. “Please, take a seat.”
Supergirl sat herself down primly before him, straight –backed, crossing her elegant legs at the knee and holding her laced fingers over the knee cap. She looked up at him with a growing sense of unease.
Tom Lewis activated a remote and a large screen sprang to life at the end of the conference table, slightly blurred. Supergirl turned slightly to get a better view as he adjusted the focus on the remote.
“Do the numbers 13.0.0.0.0 mean anything to you?” Lewis asked.
Supergirl thought for a moment “Um….uh-huh. The end of the third cycle of the earth in the Mayan calendar? Nothing else seems to fit….the end of the third Great Cycle of 5,125.36 days since the start of creation. 1.872 million days. The end of the 13th Baktun, each of which was a 144,000 day span. The equivalent in our calendar is …the…21st December 2012. Around 11:11am UTC, to be precise.”
“Doomsday.” Said Wilson, melodramatically.
“Actually its not. It just means a new calendar and the 4th cycle of the earth starts after it. It’s no more Doomsday than January the 1st is after December 31st. The very fact that it’s the end of the THIRD cycle tells you already that there have been two previous calendar ‘endings’ .It should just be another day at the office.” Supergirl explained.
“Unless you’re a kook who is trying to make it the end of the world on that date…” Wilson responded.
With that a picture appeared on screen of an attractive blonde woman in her early thirties. It was obviously from an id. badge.
“Know her?” Supergirl shook her head.
“Well, she knows you. And hates you to boot. She’s sworn to kill you and unfortunately, she has the means to do it. “ Lewis added. “As well as the rest of us”.
“What do you mean?” Supergirl asked with concern.
“That is Doctor Helen Willoughby. She was a leading light in the research into the properties of naturally occurring elements, for…a variety of purposes. She had unlimited access for her government work to the entire mineral specimen collections of this country. Rocks…minerals…radioactive isotopes.” He paused. “Rare and unusual meteorites….” He left the sentence hanging.
“The last few months she seems to have gone rogue. Started work on something of her own. She called it ‘Project Maya’ “.
Last edited by tallyho5 years ago, edited 10 times in total.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
Lewis continued “Willoughby’s parents were both academics, mother was Susan Julie, nee De Villiers, a noted geologist and then later in life she went into palaeontology. Been dead 4 years, natural causes. Her father was Roger Willoughby, archaeologist specialising in the central and south American civilisations. He’s been dead around 3 years, auto accident. No one else involved. Suspicion he just got wasted and drove off the road. She seems to have been well indoctrinated by both parents into their respective academic fields; unfortunately, she seems to have taken that on to an interest in her late husbands work…”
“Which was?” asked Supergirl quizzically.
“Military research” Wilson cut in ahead of Lewis. “That’s all you need to be aware of at this time”
Supergirl glanced in his direction, switching briefly to her X-ray vision to scope him out. Suddenly, there were raised voices and a crash from the ante room as the loud voices carried into the Mayor’s office. The sudden noise caused all to jump slightly except the Kryptonian. Wilson, she noted had his hand tucked inside his left lapel in an instant as he turned to the door. There were muffled sounds of a struggle and a loud voice cried ”NOT THE FACE” whilst another answered “SHE WINKED AT ME!” followed by a smash of porcelain and the sound of furniture moving under weight.
“What the hell?” said Reynolds as Wilson started to move to cover the doorway. Eddy , Supergirl noticed, had subtly moved to stand between her husband and any threat coming through the doorway. She liked her, Supergirl decided. She had guts. Supergirl held up an arm to stop Wilson and smiled apologetically.
She cast a quick look through the wall and sighed resignedly, closing her eyes and holding up her index finger.
“What’s going on?” Reynolds asked. Supergirl cast a second glance at the doorway, looking through it at the events unfolding on the other side. She sighed heavily.
“I’m sorry this is all my fault.” said Supergirl. “Excuse me, just… one… second.” She waited for acknowledgement from the Mayor who turned his head towards her. Taking that as tacit approval, she disappeared in a red and blue blur that streaked to the door, flinging it open in an instant and vanishing into the ante room. It rocked back on its hinges as Wilson drew a Glock.
“WILL YOU TWO JOKERS JUST CALM DOWN” Supergirl commanded with authority before the red and blue blur returned to her seat an instant later, resuming her pose of legs crossed and hands on her knee, the door already closed behind her. She then realised slightly belatedly, that she was holding a large bowling trophy.
“Oh…er…sorry.” She placed it on the Mayor’s desk, pulling a face.
“What on earth?” asked the Mayor’s wife.
“Sorry, the one called Dave was about to hit the other one with …this” She gestured at the trophy.
“It’s my fault, I was teasing them a little before I came in here, I’m afraid it got a little out of hand.”
“Those two idiots!” said Reynolds angrily. “ You sure I can’t fire them?” He asked his wife.
“The nephews of your biggest financial contributors? Sure, go ahead.”
He sighed wearily, looking up at the Girl of Steel with a guilty expression. “I don’t like favours or nepotism…but unfortunately it’s the only way a poor man can get into office…”
He sounded resentful and slightly ashamed. Supergirl decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, but honest politicians were rarer than Kryptonite.
“I’m sorry, I’ll deal with them later. My apologies, Supergirl; Mr Wilson. Let’s get on.” He said gruffly.
As the briefing resumed, Supergirl took a good look at Wilson. He had sharp, hard eyes that missed nothing and a lean, harsh face. He didn’t look as if he had smiled much in his life. He was aware he was being scrutinised, but seemed indifferent. A very cold fish, she decided.
Lewis continued. “Willoughby seems to have been naturally gifted…something of a prodigy … and fortunately her interests were benign…at first. Followed her parents’ interests in history and archaeology, purely as a hobby. Then she suffered a personal tragedy that seems to have set her on a new path. Seems she started to become obsessed with that Mayan end of the world stuff, and at some point it looks like she decided to make it happen, and to go gunning for you too. Which unfortunately is why you are here today.”
“But why? I’ve never heard of her, nor met her. Why does she want to do me harm?” Supergirl asked. “If she’s a respected member of the scientific community why threaten myself or to commit mass murder?”
“It would seem your paths have crossed once , briefly and somewhat indirectly. Do you remember a few years back you stopped that test missile that was out of control? The guidance system shorted out and it went haywire, was heading for a built up suburb of the city?” Lewis hit a button and a headline told of her saving the day.
“Yes but it was a simple case of me using my speed to catch it and then my strength to hurl it into the upper atmosphere where it exploded harmlessly. No one was hurt, so why….?” Supergirl asked with a frown.
“Her husband Richard Vinncennes had designed the guidance system. She didn’t take his name when she married him. It was a tricky business. Had taken him 4 years. When he heard what nearly happened he …well lost it. Took his own life a few weeks later. Just couldn’t forgive himself.”
“That’s tragic…but how could she blame me? I couldn’t know he would be in that frame of mind. How could she expect me to help him, to save him?” Supergirl said still confused.
“That’s not it. The enquiry found there was nothing wrong with Vinncennes’ work, faulty wiring by a defence sub contractor cutting costs had lead to the malfunction, not his guidance system. Caused it to short out, sent it off course. Doctor Willoughby has managed to convince herself that if you had disarmed the missile instead of destroying it then her husband would have been exonerated and still be alive today.”
‘So that was it.’ Thought Supergirl. But not all of it. “Ok…so what exactly has she done? This…project Maya?”
Lewis continued “Well she went on two weeks leave a month ago…and never came back. They were concerned at first that she’d been picked up or abducted by foreign powers, but it just looks like she decided to disappear. Bank accounts raided and closed, assets liquidised. When they looked through her work files it was all there documented. She was very clever. She knew large samples would be missed from the mineral collections so she took minute slivers at a time. Individually nothing, collectively…a very real and very dangerous threat. We are not sure exactly what she has. She had access to radioactive isotopes…So, we think, whilst she didn’t have weapons grade material, she is or has, made some kind of radioactive dirty bomb. They thought at first nothing was missing…then when they weighed the samples … little bits of almost everything had been taken. She smuggled the radioactive stuff out of the facility hidden in a Geiger counter. Pretty smart really. She has gotten her hands on Kryptonite, from the Great Bear Lake Meteorite impact of ’78. But those samples weren’t weighed back then, so we aren’t sure how much was initially found and how much she actually took.
She had noted her actions down in a coded file on her work lap top, headed ‘Project Maya’ - her passwords were numerical representations of her Birthday, Wedding day etc all in the Mayan calendar. She openly talks of that Mayan date as the day she settles all scores. The detail is all in there” He slid a folder across the table to her. She picked it up and thumbed through it for a second before sliding it back to him.
“I see” she said tersely.
“Aren’t you even going to read it?” Said Wilson, with an annoyed edge to his voice.
“I have.” Supergirl answered simply, staring back coolly with a forced smile.
“Oh…right.” Wilson seemed somewhat wrong footed and cleared his throat awkwardly.
“There is a video threat mentioned in the file? Could I see it?” she raised an exquisite blonde eyebrow in query.
“Of course” Lewis pressed the button again and the screen came to life. Willoughby was sitting facing a web cam in an almost feature less room. A small window covered by plain drapes behind her revealed nothing whilst the only furniture visible was a small four legged metal table against the wall in the background. There were no lights on but the room was quite bright. “This was sent to the Mayor’s office yesterday”. Willoughby’s voice came to life.
“Ok, Mr Mayor, you don’t know me and I don’t know you. But get on to Langley and find out. I’m sure the CIA have been looking for me along with my real employers. But they won’t find me. I’ve gone underground , so to speak. I put up with their shit for long enough. It’s my time now. Literally. You may not even know it, but the clock is already ticking, Mr Mayor, and time is not your friend.
I want Supergirl delivered to me in Kryptonite chains or else…else what? Wouldn’t you like to know. You’ve been in post 4 months Mayor Reynolds…be kinda careless if a large chunk of the city got obliterated on your watch, don’t you think? When you pass this on to Langley they’ll get hold of my former employers. No doubt you’ll have a visit from one or more of those pricks in a bad suit, wearing shades in-doors because they want to be in Men –in – Black. They’ll fill you in. But the bottom line…I’m gonna kill a shit load of folks and turn your city into a radioactive wasteland unless you give in to my perfectly reasonable request. That golden haired show off in exchange for your lovely metropolis. I want her alone, obviously. No police, no secret service, just you hand delivering her to me in person. I’ll let you know where nearer the time. But I can tell you the when. At eleven minutes passed eleven on December 21st . Oh, I know all the government departments will be in on this, trying to look for me. They can search as much as they want, they won’t find me, no matter how much ground they cover. So, let them go through the motions, knock themselves out. Just as long as there are just the three of us on December 21st. Anyone else around, anyone else except you and well, you don’t want to know. Just you ,me and the bitch. I’ll be in touch.” Lewis hit the pause button, freezing her face on screen.
“We’ve got our analysts going through it now. Ambient light levels would indicate its an afternoon recording, the speculation is its in the city. There’s no background noise but they are going through it with sub- frequency analysers, seeing if there is anything not in our audible range that might have been picked up. We’ll let you know what we find.” Wilson addressed her.
“There’s no question of us giving you up.” Reynolds said and shot a pointed look at both Lewis and Wilson, who shifted uneasily. It implied the option had been discussed. “I am happy to approach her alone if it comes to it.”Eddy put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed affectionately. He patted it reassuringly. “But your surrender is not an option for us, nor for you.” He looked her squarely in the eye, and she believed him.
She rose slowly and nodded at his reassurance. “I’d best start the search straight away as we only have a few days.”
“But where will you start?” the Mayor’s wife asked.
“Well, I scanned the light intensity levels coming through the drapes behind her. There’s a small, slightly brighter circle in their centre. And the drapes themselves are very small. The walls and floor are metal, and the table leans tight against the wall, but if you look here-“ she rewound the video with the controller then paused it before handing it back to Lewis. She walked up to the screen and pointed around a barely discernible, slightly wider part of the inside right table leg. “That is part of a small bracket attaching the table to the wall. It’s fixed in place not supported by its own weight like conventional tables. That would imply to me a lack of stability. Taken with a circular window and her references to covering as much ‘ground as we want we still won’t find her’, I think it’s safe to assume she’s on board a ship. Maybe anchored, maybe not.”
“It’s a porthole!” Wilson cried impressed. “But how do you know which city, which harbour she is in?”
Supergirl looked at him, then the Mayor and his wife. “She says she wants the Mayor and I, and we’re both here. The threat is against this city. You yourself said the sound analysis was assuming it to be here. Seems a logical place to start, don’t you think?”
Wilson looked slightly embarrassed. “Er…yes, of course. I’ll let our tech guys know what you’ve found, they might pick up on something you’ve missed”.
“Yeah,right” said Reynolds sarcastically. “Son, every time you open your mouth you go down in my estimation.”
Supergirl smiled to herself. She decided she liked the Mayor too.
Last edited by tallyho10 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
Yeah more good stuff, liked the thinking SG. Wonder what plans the scientist has in mind for Supergirl. Nice format by the way, easier on the eyes. Great job T!
Yes Supergirl, that's right its a necklace for you....What's the matter you don't like Kryptonite?
“Is there anything in particular we can do to help? Of course you have the full resources of my office at your disposal; fire, police, you name it.” Reynolds said. “We can start by getting the police department to go through shipping records, get plain clothes guys on the docks. Tom, you can convene an emergency disaster planning meeting, we can start working on different evacuation scenarios, God forbid it should come to that…” He looked at his wife and winked “Eddy…you can make some coffee…”
“The hell I will, you chauvinistic dinosaur!” she hit him again, light heartedly “But I’ll have some made” she laughed, but her smile never touched her eyes as she then made a discreet phonecall for refreshments. She was worried about him and this situation, Supergirl realised.
“We’ll alert the medical authorities in nearby towns and cities to gear up for casualties, we can treat it as an exercise. We’ll keep the visible police presence to a minimum for now though, don’t want to panic her into moving or setting it off.”
“All that sounds good, but best if I search for her physically on my own, with my …abilities I can cover more ground, but by all means have undercover officers looking out for anything suspicious, we only have a few days before the 21st so every help is welcome.” Supergirl interjected. “But I agree, equally we don’t want to tip our hand, frighten her into anything rash. At the moment she is overconfident, happy she has outsmarted us. Let’s keep her in that misconception. One thing I would like, though, is to use your office for a moment, if I may, for a quick word with Mr Wilson?”
“Oh….oh yes, by all means. Eddy, Tom. Let’s go have a word with those two clowns outside” the Mayor answered, slightly surprised. He and his retinue moved towards the door, before he turned back. “Oh, could you hand me that trophy, honey?” he gestured to Supergirl. She picked it up off the desk and walked over to hand it to him.
“Thank you, my dear” he smiled broadly before speaking in a low tone between his unmoving lips “<Don’t trust him>”. Wilson, still some 15 feet away, leaning against the window sill, was oblivious to the warning. Supergirl eyed the Mayor with a new respect, and mouthed the words ‘Thank you’ accompanied by a faint half smile that was answered by a beaming grin from the Mayor.
“Tom, Eddy. Let’s give them a few moments. Take as long as you want, honey.” They left, the Mayor closing the door behind him. Briefly his raised voice was heard. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO PLAYING AT?”
Supergirl turned to Wilson. “So?”
“So what?” Wilson remained unmoving.
Supergirl folded her arms across her shapely chest and, head bowed in thought, walked stiff-legged, slowly over to where he was leaning. When her progress had taken her to within a few feet of him, she stopped, raising her gaze to his face but not raising her head.
“Sooooooo…that briefing was for them, not for me. That file of hers…not even a date of birth. No firm chronology what so ever…’she started studies at St. Peter’s College, Oxford University , England in the late nineties’ …not even course dates for her.
You don’t mention her age and you don’t mention how long her courses took nor when she completed them. My guess is, that’s because you are supressing something, some other actions she took. After her initial degree in Geology, you describe a ‘Combined Course’ , very clever the way you put it in capitals to just make it seem like it’s an innocuous academic subject, but I reckon that’s the key to all this. Mr Lewis mentioned she was a prodigy. Geologists don’t build bombs…I suspect she graduated in…physics, maybe? Electronic engineering? Genetics? Something that would allow her to be a very real and credible threat when given the right materials. And we know she had access to the right materials, don’t we Mr Wilson? But there is something else. You are used to dealing with terrorist threats, this is no different, on the face of it. You’ve had two weeks, since you realised she wasn’t coming back, to hunt her down with the Police, SWAT teams or government agents. You must have hundreds of people quietly involved by now. Why would you need me, now? Unless you needed someone with my special abilities. Physically, she is just an ordinary woman. So that would imply that she has something else, something you want back. Some kind of secret device, perhaps? So what does she have of yours, Mr Wilson? That is what I meant by ‘So?’ “ she looked at him long and hard.
He blew through his teeth “Whee-ew…you’re very sharp , honey”
“Don’t call me ‘honey’.” She said tersely.
“The Mayor did” Wilson answered.
“That’s different. I like him.” She countered. “The biggest give away though is that the file never mentions her Doctorate degree - just the Masters in Geology. So it’s fairly obvious you aren’t telling me the whole story. Not good enough, Mr Wilson. I need to know what you know, and I don’t. So, what else is it that you aren’t telling me?”
“Just as you say; that she took some of those extra courses; that the dirty bomb is very real. There is no secret ‘device’ though.” Wilson said. “But we need her knowledge, we need her alive. SWAT aren’t exactly known for that, so it was felt you’d be the best chance of a successful outcome. And of course, she has threatened you. So …it’s in both our interests to stop her.”
She stared at him, for a long moment. He didn’t flinch, but met her gaze. Finally she spoke.
“I can see your heart rate quicken just a touch… see the jittering little extra pulse as the blood shoots through your veins…your pupils dilating of course…only slightly, but enough of a tell…I can see your body temperature fluctuate…minutely, but it’s there. There are other changes to your body that only a Kryptonian could pick up on, Mr Wilson, and all these tell me that, although you are trying to hide it really well, you are in fact lying to me, Mr Wilson. And that’s not nice.”
“I don’t know what you mean” he said unconvincingly.
“You said you were here to answer any questions I had after the briefing…but the truth is, you were only here to make sure I bought into that cover story, right?” she challenged.
“You don’t need to know any more” Wilson said, now uncomfortable, finally shifting his weight, stepping away from the window sill to stand facing her. “You just find her…use your- whatever- to subdue her, tie her up, we grab her that’s it. You really don’t need to know any more.”
“Oh, but I really, REALLY do, Mr Wilson” Supergirl stared at him sternly. She wandered over to the large balcony window doors behind the Mayor’s desk, opening them wide and sticking her head out into the soft, white sunshine. She felt the glow of the energy warm her and closed her eyes briefly in delight , drawing in a deep breath of fresh air before turning back to face the shadowy government man once more. “If you expect me to risk my life, I intend to be fully cognisant of the facts.”
“It’s classified. That’s all you’ll get from me.” Wilson said rising “I don’t have to tell you squat. Now hadn’t you bette-“
With a blur of speed she was behind him, wrapping him up in her arms in a microsecond. An instant later they were streaming through the window as she hurtled out and then up with him, rising some several hundred feet above City Hall before she hovered. “Oh look, I can see my house from here!” she said distractedly, playing with him.
“O-h, oh God!” was all Wilson could utter.
“Nice up here isn’t it?” she said playfully. Wilson didn’t answer. He was wide eyed and white faced, staring between his dangling feet at the ground, far, far below him.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asked, secretly delighted by the fear she could feel rippling through him. She suspected he had caused much the same reaction in many, many others in his time. Time now for a dose of his own medicine. She had met men like him before. They wandered a dark road. And they covered all their options. She was in no doubt that, somewhere, he had a government facility building those Kryptonite chains the doctor had asked for. ‘Yes, let’s make him squirm a little’, she decided.
“ C-cut it out.” He stuttered unconvincingly, trying to sound in control of the situation. “We both know you’re bluffing. Y-you won’t drop m-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEE!” he cried as she let go.
She let him fall for a few seconds, whilst she inspected her nails, casually, then pretended to see him for the first time plummeting to earth and swooped to gather him up again. He was a shaking mass of flailing limbs.
“You sure about that?” she asked innocently, hovering once more. “Now, Mr Wilson, I’d still like a quick word. And ‘velocity’ just won’t cut it. So how about you telling me, what you just can’t tell me, hmmn?”
“Okay! Okay! P-please…back in the office?” He had barely finished the sentence before a moment later they were there. He let out a long sigh of relief. He was shaking.
She stood arms folded, waiting, after first setting him back on his feet.
“I-I’m not cleared to brief you on this…” he said, short of breath.
“We could go for another spin round the block? Or above it.” she smiled sweetly.
“NO! NO! “ he breathed heavily, trying to re-gather his composure. “Alright. We both know you wouldn’t have dropped me…but you do deserve to know what you are up against”.
“Actually…I probably would’ve dropped you, juuuuuust a little bit …”she pinched the air with her thumb and forefinger , narrowing her eye to pretend to squint through the little gap. She was enjoying wrong –footing him. She took a half step towards him and smiled secretly as he startled. “Strange. Most guys are longing to be in my arms…” she added mischievously.
He straightened out his tie and jacket. His aloof persona was shattered. Wilson walked over to stand before a map of the continental United States mounted on the wall.
“Alright. Alright. W-we…we’ve had a…a device.. a prototype…for many years…a sort of camouflage machine we’ve been developing.
It uses a selection of rare and unique materials that, when activated in the proper way, some by electrical impulse, some by magnetism, some just by proximity to each other, creates a sort of…bubble…a distortion of reality…that makes an object seem to vanish but it is actually still there moving at a quantum level within the bubble…so fast a person can’t see it. It’s kinda like your super speed, but without the blur that tells of your path. One instant it would be over by the door say, the next it would have disappeared and then just ‘appeared’ alongside you, seemingly without moving in between. But used on the larger …objects…there were problems…a distortion of the bubble… instability…massive amounts of energy required…it was very problematic, shall we say.
There were... difficulties…we went through a LOT of prototypes over the decades…and there were problems not just with our test subjects but also with accidental civilian incursions into the testing zone…”
She looked at him long and hard before she spoke. ”These larger objects…they wouldn’t be objects such as…ships or aircraft, perhaps?”
Wilson nodded glumly. “That’s right. As you’ve probably guessed…we’ve been testing it for years…” he turned to face the wall then swept a hand, still shaking slightly, across a section of the map. Over the sea, north east of Cuba, off America’s eastern seaboard. “Around this area here…” his hand swept casually on as he hesitated, almost embarrassed, “off Bermuda…” he looked guiltily up at her and coughed nervously. Supergirl felt she didn’t need to say anything. Wilson went on. “Willoughby was working on a much smaller version of the device. She’d solved some of the instability problems and reduced the power consumption levels. She was working on a version of the device that could be worn…as a belt.” He paused, awaiting a reaction.
“Is that all?” she asked and Wilson nodded. This time she believed him. What she couldn’t believe was that successive governments for - what, eight decades?- had funded such an incredible scheme. And that people were dumb enough to believe messing with the fabric of the universe didn’t have consequences.
“We aren’t sure if she completed it or not…but it seems likely. But it could only be used for very short periods, a few seconds at a time. Needless to say, you can’t tell anyone about this.” He added superfluously.
“But the human brain is suspended in liquid…it’s not designed to move and stop at speed, which technically would be how it would appear to the user of such a device – the world in slow motion as they moved through it…but when they come back to normal phase movement, the pressure on the cortex would be immense…It would probably cause nausea, severe headaches, even brain damage with prolonged use.” The Kryptonian commented.
“Yeah…we think that’s what happened to the good Doctor” Wilson offered. “Tipped her over the edge.”
‘So that was it’, she thought to herself. She was up against an opponent who to all intents and purposes, could match her super speed but was also armed with Kryptonite. And a ‘dirty bomb’ to boot. And was quite likely brain damaged. It just got better and better.
“You got anything else to say to me?” she closed one eye in the sunshine streaming through the window as she looked at him.
“For whatever it’s worth…good luck, Supergirl.” He said earnestly. For once, she believed him.
A short while later, Supergirl was soaring over the dock basin, carefully scrutinising each vessel she encountered. There were many. A sweep completed of all the larger vessels and their contents showed that nothing was amiss on any of them, so she turned her attention to the smaller private ships in the marina.
After many hours she had still found nothing. She hovered in the evening air, the sun’s fading warmth allowing a cool breeze to flow delicately over her thighs, between her legs, tugging gently at the hem of her short skirt, of her cape.
She closed her eyes, for a moment, enjoying the sensation, recharging herself, gathering her thoughts before she pressed on again. She was sure the Doctor had to be hiding out here, in this city harbour, somewhere below her. If not the docks or harbour, then perhaps she was on a riverboat. Though she only took a few minutes to herself, when she opened her eyes night was falling. The city of the night was coming alive, bright lights replacing bland concrete and glass. Streets alive with festive lights, glinting in red, yellow, blue and green. The city’s Christmas tree was a riot of colour in the main square. In the harbour, the lights played on the water, stretching and spreading out in long yellow and white lines, reaching out towards her across the inky blackness of the water. A blackness that was temporarily wiped out, just to appear again, seconds later, by the sweeping light of the light house out on the sandbar, some 2 miles out to sea. She turned slowly to follow the light home as she remembered something. The lighthouse was being repaired after storm damage last winter. It was now replaced, temporarily, a few hundred yards further out, by an automated, semi-permanently anchored, lightship.
Supergirl smiled to herself as she sped through the darkness, intermittently dazzled by the beam for a few moments, towards a date with destiny.
She circled the ship, scanning it several times to be sure. The light vessel L.V. Compass Rose. She became convinced it was the right vessel. There were only two visible crew on board, and as it was supposed to be an unmanned, automated ship, that alone rang alarm bells. They were both below decks in make-shift cabins. One was pleasuring himself with a magazine, much to her disgust , whilst in another room an older man, rather bizarrely, seemed to be building a wooden model of ‘Old Iron Sides’ herself, the U.S.S. Constitution. But it was the several rooms in the centre of the ship that she couldn’t see, that really convinced her she was in the right place. She couldn’t see them because they were lined with lead.
‘So that was where the Doctor had spent her money.’ She thought. She scanned the rest of the superstructure and found nothing amiss, before landing on the foredeck. What she didn’t notice, dotted around the ship, were small lead boxes, each one open at one end and housing a small video camera. They were trained to cover all approaches to the ship and were invisible when viewed from above, as she had seen them. Only looking directly at the lens would have allowed the Maid of Might to realise their significance. But as she landed on the deck her attention switched to more immediate problems.
There were dozens of anti-personnel booby traps scattered throughout the ship. Small and designed to maim rather than kill, they could never harm her, but none the less would alert the occupants of the ship to her presence. But Supergirl was completely unaware that in one of those lead lined rooms below her, Doctor Willoughby was already aware of her intrusion, and was watching her every move.
“That’s right, honey. Come down an’ see me. Got some nice little games lined up for you to play. But you should know… I play for keeps…” Willoughby said quietly to herself, as she watched the grainy image on the monitor of the beautiful young girl, carefully working her way through the outer doors to step inside the dark interior of the deck housing. Willoughby hit the send button on her mobile, alerting the two men on board silently to proceed with the pre-arranged plan, to rendezvous with her in this make-shift control room, ready to welcome the visitor. She smiled to herself. “Come in to my parlour…” she said softly.
Last edited by tallyho11 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
(Thanks again for all the kind comments. It occurred to me that some of you land lubbers or foreign readers might not be aware of what a lightship looks like – it is basically a mobile light house – it’s a ship, with a big light on it! See the pic below)
Tollesbury-Village-Lightship-1.jpg (121.93 KiB) Viewed 4106 times
PART 4
Supergirl stepped cautiously through the outer door of the deck housing, her hands on either side of the frame as she looked around the inside. The door was wide open, secured back in position by a metal hook outside. Just too easy. She used her X-ray vision to scope out the floor and sure enough beneath an out of place welcome –mat was a pressure pad, its black wires almost invisible in the dimly lit interior, extending to a very small plastic explosive charge smothered in axle grease and black paint. Without her special sight it would have been almost impossible to spot. She switched to her heat vision, melting the contact wires and making the device safe. She stepped into the corridor, her Kryptonian eyes adjusting to the single light at the far end, her irises opening wider than any human eye to allow as much light in as possible. She was faced by a short corridor perhaps ten feet in length, across the width of the ship, with a central T-junction heading off towards the stern.
There were doors on either side of the top of the ‘T’, but they were both empty; one seemed to be an old chart storage room and the other was a small dining room, still housing a stout, thick legged table and 3 chairs, with a small tv remote on the table top, but otherwise empty.
The galley had to be near the dining room then, she surmised, but as she moved to the T junction it was obvious that the room behind, which should have been the kitchen was now one of those sheathed in lead. A further two doors off the upright part of the ‘T’ also had lead lined rooms behind them. She stopped in frustration. She was damned if she was going to walk in blind to a room with a maniac with similar super speed and an unknown amount of Kryptonite, in an unknown form. Yet she knew she had to search the entire ship, for both the bomb and the speed device, as there was no guarantee that the doctor was wearing it. Either or both might be in any of these rooms. The booby traps she had met so far had been using conventional explosives, but she wouldn’t put it passed the doctor to have created a sort of ‘nail bomb’ of Kryptonite. And if such a device was on the other side of one of those lead lined doors… She paused, trying to come up with a plan of attack as to how she could get into these blind spots as safely as possible. It worried her that these traps were designed for her specifically, but as she was here ahead of the deadline, then maybe not all the doctor’s preparations were complete. If she wasn’t expected yet, then maybe the belt and the bomb were just lying around in one of these rooms. It was unlikely, but a possibility that she had to explore.
In the control room, Willoughby was glued to the monitor as she tracked Supergirl’s progress.
“C’mon , bitch…in ya come…” she smiled as Supergirl reached the T –junction. Behind the Doctor, the door opened and Wheeler and Jarvis walked in. She didn’t tear her eyes from the screen as she addressed them.
“Good. Our guest has arrived. You two ready?”
They nodded, which she did not see, so Wheeler added “Sure”.
“When will we get the pardons?” Jarvis, the older one asked.
“What?” said the Doctor still watching her quarry “C’mon, honey keep going”
“You know-the pardons, the Federal pardons for catching her. You said she’d gone nuts and this was a government job to catch her. Shouldn’t there be more agents and stuff besides you?”
“Oh. Yeah, you get the pardons after we get her. I told you this was deliberately low key. She’s an icon, we don’t want news getting out that we’ve killed her.” Willoughby said.
“KILLED her? You said these special rooms and traps were to catch her…I signed up to get clear of a murder wrap not get another one.” Jarvis said with concern.
“I got no problem.” Wheeler said.”Long as we get the money, I can live without the pardon”
“I just wanna go home, miss, when all this is done. Been at sea for 17 years. Different boats, different harbours. Just want to go home now.” Jarvis said wistfully. He was in his late forties, though his weather beaten face made him look much older; grey haired and of modest height, 5’10 or so, but tough and stocky from a life at sea. He was of Nantucket whaling stock, born for the ocean. But there was a difference between being on it on your terms and being forced to be on it because you were wanted for murder. Three murders in fact. Ten years ago he’d hacked three guys to pieces in Metro City. With a large machete. He had then, over the years, pulled a string of minor robberies across the states as he headed for Nantucket before at some stage his crimes had gone federal and he then fled south to Cancun. Since then he’d spent his time as a deckhand for any dubious enterprise that would have him.
Wheeler was 27, six foot tall and heavily built, from ‘Frisco. He was an ex-US Navy weapons expert, discharged on mental health grounds. He too had killed and was wanted for drug running but unlike Jarvis he had used a pistol on his victims. On four occasions. Part of the reason he wasn’t bothered by the whole pardon issue was that he had always intended to kill Jarvis and take his $30 grand when they were done anyway. It was he who had set the explosive traps.
Willoughby had recruited them both in Mexico when she was supposedly on vacation. She didn’t trust either of them. Which was wise. She sighed, tearing her eyes from the screen.
“Look. I’ll double it, to $60 K to help out Uncle Sam with a bit of specialist ‘wet work’, Ok? ‘Why?’ ain’t your concern. I got reasons and that’s all you need to know.”
“$60k each?” said Wheeler.
“Sure.” Willoughby had no intention of paying either of them, so she could afford to be generous.
“I’m in.” said Wheeler as they both turned to Jarvis.
“I ain’t gonna kill her. I’ll take the $30k as you lied about the pardon. I’ll help you catch her, since she’s gone nuts, then that’s me done.” Jarvis said.
“Fine. Look, stick to the plan, you’ll get your cash. Now look, she’s in the corridor, she’s about to go into the first room. If that gets the bitch then all well and good. If not, we still got 4 other chances in the other rooms. You get into the corridor and when she goes in one room make sure she doesn’t get out. Ok?”
“You sure them green stones will knock her out?” Jarvis asked uncertainly.
“Trust me, they are like a poison to her. At the very least she’ll get hit by enough of a dose in any one room to put her down and then I’ll finish her off.” She was glassy eyed as she said the last sentence.
Wheeler and Jarvis exchanged looks. “You really hate her, don’t you? What she do to you Doc?”
“My business. Now do your jobs.” Willoughby said.
Jarvis and Wheeler both looked at the small piece of greenish rock they each had dubiously.
“We just wave this at her and she runs away?” Wheeler asked uncertainly, to which the Doctor nodded. “And she’s gonna just open them boxes and look in them?” he added.
“She’s got to, she’s searching for something I got. That means she has to look in them. And when she does…she’s finished. Your part is just to keep her in whichever room she chooses, with the Kryptonite.”
“Er,…I got a question…” said Jarvis.
“WHAT NOW?!!!” shouted Willoughby angrily a she glared at him.
“Er…Where’d she go?” Jarvis asked innocently pointing at the now empty corridor on the screen behind her.
Willoughby finally returned her gaze to the empty screen on the monitor. “SHIT! SHE’S GONE!!!”
Supergirl had weighed her options carefully for a few moments. She didn’t like the thought of blind entry into who-knows-what one little bit. As she pondered, her super-sensitive hearing heard footfalls on the metal ladders at the stern of the ship, as Jarvis and Wheeler headed for the control room in response to the Doctors text. Supergirl guessed that they were likely to be he two crew men she had seen from above and as she scanned down around her at the rooms on the deck below, sure enough, the two make-shift cabins were now empty. That gave her an idea. The lead lined rooms had been shielded to stop her looking down on them …but had they been shielded to stop her looking up?
Whilst the Doctor was addressing Wheeler and Jarvis, Supergirl had withdrawn, disabling any traps she could find with her heat vision before making her way to the bridge. Using the R/T she had contacted the coastguard and given them her position to pass on to Wilson via the Mayor’s office, but told them to hold back and give her an hour or two for her to try and capture the doctor herself. She had no idea how long the search could take. She cleared all the traps from the upper decks and the stern, returning to the bow as the frantic Doctor cycled through all the internal cameras trying to find her.
Willoughby only had the one monitor and each switch took a few seconds as she went from camera to camera. She was becoming more and more frantic as she failed to find her.
“SHIT-SHIT-SHIT-SHIT SHHHHIIIIIITTTTTTT!” she screamed before finally the external deck camera at the bow picked her up. The grainy grey-blue light from the screen gave the Doctor a demonic appearance as it highlighted her features from below.
“There she is!” cried Wheeler needlessly as they all saw her.
“Tricky bitch! What the hell is she doing back out there?” Willoughby asked rhetorically. Even as she watched, Supergirl descended a hatchway to the deck below. “Shit! Now what’s she doing?!” She sighed exasperatedly, switching to the next camera.
“You two – start at the stern on the deck below and sweep her back to the lead rooms – GO!” the Doctor barked, prompting the two to dash out the doorway.
Supergirl looked up into the lead compartments. Sure enough, they hadn’t lead-lined the floors. She could see three of them clearly, before the interference of pipes, wiring and bulkheads became too intense, together with the lead walls obscuring the rooms further back.
The first room was completely empty, except for a small device just by the door which was all too familiar.
She saw her worst fears were confirmed as she could detect the trace of kryptonite inside the bomb casing, but fortunately the various layers of steel between her and it and the small amount of the mineral involved prevented her from feeling any ill effects. The second room, the small former galley, also had a similar device, but in addition there was a small lead lined box on a steel table. The kitchen equipment had been removed when the ship was automated.
The third was similar but with a very thick lead table top that prevented her seeing what exactly was on it. A ship-wide bulkhead hid the rest of the rooms from her current position, as it just built up too many layers of interference- she could see vaguely through it but together with other walls and rooms everything became indistinct.
She felt she could ignore the first room as it only housed the booby trap. She positioned herself under the second room and adopted her flight stance of one fist extended with her other drawn up at her chest. She steeled herself, lowering her head as she composed herself, then looking grimly up at her target before she drew in a sharp breath and shot into the air, punching through the ‘tween deck plates like a knife through butter, splaying the metal back as she entered the former galley from below.
She landed lightly on her toes, quickly turning her head and burning through the traps’ contact wires with her heat vision to first make the bomb safe. The metal bomb casing protected her from the ill effects of the Kryptonite directly, but even just gazing at it with her X-ray vision hurt her eyes.
She turned her attention to the wooden, lead lined box on the steel table.
“That’s it darling, open up your present…” Willoughby said quietly as she eagerly watched events unfold.
Supergirl took a long, hard look at the wooden casket. It too might house a booby trap for all she knew. She used her heat vision to burn through a patch of the wood to reveal the lead beneath, then switched to her powerful breath to dowse the smoking wood. She could hear sounds of movement on the deck below her, almost covered by the whirring motor of the revolving light above her; they were still some distance away but she decided to concentrate on the task in hand. She started to melt through the hinges at the back of the box.
“God dammit! You devious witch! Why can’t you just follow the rules and open the god damned box?!” Willoughby said with angst.
Oblivious, Supergirl gently lifted the casket to her eye level, her enhanced innate sense of balance keeping the box perfectly level, defying any trembler switches. If this were booby trapped, she reasoned, then it would likely be geared to explode if she opened it from the front. This way she hoped to avoid setting it off. She gently parted the lid and base, just a fraction. She felt the searing pain hit her as the Kryptonite in the booby trap sapped her strength, burning the pad of her thumb where it held the lid just a few millimetres ajar, but an instant later she had reclosed the box. She winced, shaking her hand swiftly until the pain on her thumb subsided. She was panting heavily as she recovered, taking a few seconds even though the splinters of Kryptonite in the bomb had been small. She was glad that she hadn’t set it off.
“NO-NO-NO! GODDAMMIT!!!” Willoughby slammed her fists down in frustration on the desk. She could only watch as Supergirl used her heat vision to melt the lead lid, running her eyes around all four sides, sealing the casket and the Kryptonite inside it for good. Calmly , the Girl of Steel opened the door and stepped back into the corridor.
Supergirl moved to the third room, knowing it too had a booby trap. She stepped off to the side away from the door and found the steel seam of the corridor wall. She located a rivet head and splayed her finger tips around it, the heel of her hand over the rivet itself. She listened a moment but the footsteps below were moving off. She started to apply gentle pressure to the steel, pushing with her hand harder and harder, forcing the steel to buckle and lift, pulling the rivet up away from the second steel sheet beneath it. As soon as enough of a gap had opened, she gripped the open seam with both hands and prised the steel back, as quietly as she could, revealing a metal framework and the inner steel wall beneath it on the other side. This time she used her strength to push rather than pull, forcing the metal to bend back, the inner lead lining bending and buckling with it. As the tortured metal started to groan louder she placed her mouth close to the metal, pursing her lips to whistle a low pitched ultrasound counterbalancing wave that suppressed the noise she was making, not quite fully, but making it much less audible. It took her a few attempts to find just the right pitch, but once she had it was hardly noticeable. Only loosely tacked to the walls, the lead came away easily, allowing her to step into the room. A glance again made the device safe at the door whilst she looked at the lead table that had previously blocked her view. This time there was a larger box sitting at its centre.
As she watched her, Willoughby growled in frustration, snatched a pistol from the table and raced out of the control room.
Supergirl again listened, hearing approaching footsteps over the noise of the lightship’s revolving mechanism. So they were on to her. She moved around the table to face the opening she had made, leaning on her fingers at two corners of the thick table top. As the table was lead, if whoever appeared in the makeshift doorway was armed with Kryptonite, she planned to upend the table, using it as a lead shield to protect her from any threat and any possible blast of Krytonite from the box. To her slight relief, the Doctor appeared in the entrance armed with only a conventional pistol, no Kryptonite in sight. She was wearing a very business –like dark blue skirt and jacket, her hair tied back in a ponytail.
“Doctor Willoughby, I presume?” Supergirl said, for although she recognised her, she couldn’t resist paraphrasing Stanley’s famous greeting.
The Doctor levelled her pistol, much to Supergirl’s amusement as she suppressed a slight smile at the futility of threatening her with a gun. The smirk angered the former geologist. “Oh, you think all this is funny? So if you’re so big and tough why don’t you just open that little box there?” she gestured with the gun barrel. “Because of you, Richard is DEAD, damn you!” she cried tearfully. “If you’re afraid I’ll open it for you!” The Doctor suddenly leaped at the box on the table, but she was never going to be quick enough to beat Supergirl to the draw. The Girl of Steel effortlessly snatched up the lead box with one hand as the doctor’s effort foundered. But even as she did so, she realised something was wrong instantly. The box was clearly empty as she swept it up effortlessly. Yet the moment it was clear of the table she felt a wave of weakness wash over her as her strength was suddenly sapped by exposure to Kryptonite. She frowned, confused, dropping the box to the floor as she grimaced in pain and bewilderment at the Doctor, who was laughing triumphantly. Beneath the spot where the box had sat, in the middle of the table, was a recessed compartment with a large lump of the deadly mineral sitting there, roughly the size of half a baseball. The entire box itself had been a kind of lid for the hidden compartment beneath it and the lead table had prevented her from seeing it.
She staggered back, open mouthed, a frown of agony marking her beautiful brow. She was trapped in the far corner, away from the door and the entrance she had made, the table and its secret contents between her and the doctor, she felt her butt hit the wall, her palms pressed flat against it as she tried to force herself as far away from the devastating meteorite as possible. The pain was building as she felt the life force being drawn from her body.
“Guess you ain’t so smart after all, eh honey?” smiled the Doctor with venom.
Last edited by tallyho5 years ago, edited 2 times in total.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
That was well done T. I liked SG getting around the Doc's traps but still ending up being caught. That was a nice trick. Looking forward as usual to the next chapter, what lies in store for poor SG!
Yes Supergirl, that's right its a necklace for you....What's the matter you don't like Kryptonite?
Supergirl slid slowly down into the corner of the room as her legs buckled. She felt the pain rip through every part of her body as her strength ebbed away. As she slid lower she actually felt slightly better for a moment as the lead table helped shield her a little from the devastating effects of the Kryptonite on the table top. She tried not to show any improvement lest the doctor realise. Unfortunately for her, Willoughby picked up the rock anyway, prompting a new wave of pain to wash over her. Her head slumped as she drew up her knees to her chest, limiting the area of her body exposed and lessening the pain slightly. Willoughby saw things differently. Jarvis and Wheeler appeared through the entranceway behind her, as the Doctor mocked her.
“Well, look at you, cowering in the corner! Bet they told you I’d got tiny bits of this stuff, eh?” she turned the piece of Kryptonite in her hands and then tossed it up a few inches before deftly catching it as she gloated at the Girl of Steel. “Well, that was all I could get from official sources – just small shavings that they wouldn’t miss. Then it dawned on me- wherever these government specimens had fallen there was likely to be more lying around. This little beauty was on a farmer’s mantelpiece in Iowa. Bought it for a $1000 and a flash of my government badge that convinced the dumb hick he was helping the nation.”
Jarvis looked at Wheeler pointedly. That was pretty much the same spiel she had given them, but with more dollars involved. Wheeler shrugged back indifferently. Jarvis didn’t like being considered a ‘dumb hick’.
The Doctor turned as they entered. “Well, hello boys. Let me guess, you couldn’t find her down below. Well, don’t sweat it. Looks like I didn’t need you or the belt after all, to pay her back. You see guys, she killed my husband. Oh , not directly. She just had to show off while saving the city, didn’t you, bitch?” she glared at the Kryptonian.
“You said she’d gone nuts, she was gonna kill people, that we had to stop her!” Jarvis said.
“Well, she did kill Richard. Maybe I over emphasised the rest. What do you care? You’ll get $30,000 just for standing in a corridor.”
At that moment, the growing roar of a jet filled the room as the ship was deliberately buzzed.
“What was that? “ said Jarvis.
“Oh, for Christ sakes , what did you think it was? That was a jet, you retard! She must’ve told them she found us. No matter. Won’t save her now.” She squatted down beside the dying heroine, her tight skirt causing her some difficulty. “I was going to just sit here and watch you suffer, but you could take hours to die, so you know what? I can still watch it all from the comfort of a chair – I’ve been watching your every move, you arrogant slut,” she gestured over her shoulder to the tiny camera above the door “ever since you came on board. You may be beautiful, you may be strong, but I’m a helluva lot smarter than you. Wheeler, get topside and keep a look out, don’t want any SEALs storming the place. Einstein,” Jarvis frowned at the insult “ stay in the corridor, if she tries to get out, just use that rock, she’ll back up, she got no choice. And guys, don’t worry- I’ve planned for this anyway, I got us a way out and you’ll still get paid.” She turned back to face Supergirl. “Don’t let his looks fool you, he may seem a softy but Jarvis there hacked three guys to death with a machete. He can be tough when he wants - right, sweetie?” Jarvis looked embarrassed, blushing slightly as he looked at the floor and shifted his weight uncomfortably.
“If that was a jet, then this isn’t a government sanctioned job at all is it?” asked the seaman.
Willoughby didn’t answer, she just rolled her eyes exasperatedly.
Supergirl tried weakly to punch through the steel deck plate, but her feeble blow barely dented it. Willoughby laughed. She tried again, but with even less effect.
“Maybe I was wrong, maybe you’re just beautiful!” the doctor laughed again. “But either way, not for long. I don’t know how long this stuff will take to do the job…couldn’t find that out in the government files…so I’ll just have to stall the cavalry a little while longer.” She tapped her pristine teeth with a fingernail in thought “I know, I’ll tell them we captured you and we’ll trade you for… for the Mayor, hmmn? That ought to buy me a couple of hours and by the looks of things that’s about all it’s gonna take to finish you off. A quick call and then I’ll settle down to watch the show. Don’t go away now!” She stepped through the doorway, still holding the deadly meteorite, then stopped.
“OOPS! Nearly forgot!” She tossed it directly at Supergirl and then she disappeared through the hole in the wall, laughing happily.
Supergirl frantically squirmed trying to get out of the way but it struck her directly on the ‘S’ at her breast as she had half risen against the wall.
“AAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!” she screamed in agony as it hit her like a knife thrust, the pain stabbing through her where it struck before ebbing away as the rock bounced off her, landing some four feet away as she slid back down the wall to fall on to the deck, her body crumpled pathetically in the corner.
“P-please….” Supergirl whispered. But her cry was drowned out by the doctor.
“JARVIS!”
Jarvis looked at the beautiful young woman curled up in the corner for a long moment, rather sadly. He seemed about to intervene when the Doctor’s voice drifted in from the corridor.
“JARVIS! I don’t see you outside the door. Wheeler can always kill you and take your share…”
Her words seemed to break the spell and he turned away “Comin’ doc!” he called as he stepped into the corridor. With her head swimming and vision blurred, she watched him disappear.
Supergirl tried to focus, to rally. She barely had the strength to crawl to the door and even if she did, more Kryptonite awaited her outside in the form of Jarvis’ piece. The large rock in this room was too close to her, robbing her of any chance to do anything. She had to get it further away from herself. But if she could barely move, then she had to move it somehow. Her eyes fell on the lead lined box that she had dropped. If she could get it back inside that casket, she would be fine!
The deadly stone was some four feet from her, off slightly to her left, the box around a foot away to her right. She didn’t even feel that she had the energy to reach for it, instead hooking the container closer with her foot to draw it nearer. She picked it up, though it was heavy now in her weakened condition. She opened it and tried to lean towards the rock, the box splayed open before her. The lead of the box now shielded her partly, making her feel a little better, but as she moved nearer it so too the draining effect of the meteorite increased. Pain seared through her fingertips as they held the box, feeling almost as if they were being burned as she was moving towards a furnace. The box became impossibly heavy and her extended arms holding it dropped as she felt the full force once more. She tried again and again, but failed, slumping back down, letting go of the box as each attempt left her weaker. She was sitting on her right thigh, her legs bent around to her left, her arms now holding her up, supporting her torso as the strength left her and her body sagged, her head dropping , the box now on the floor between her arms. She raised her head slightly, looking balefully at the cause of her destruction through golden strands of her cascading hair.
She needed desperately to get the mineral further away, to the other corner of the room. Perhaps then she might use her original plan to use the lead table as some kind of shield. She then had another idea – she could use her heat vision to melt the deck then knock the stone down to the deck below! She tried to focus on a patch of the decking but she quickly realised she would never have enough strength to reach the 1500 plus degrees necessary to melt the steel. She gave up, stifling back a sob of pain as the meteorite took its toll. She stared down at the smooth metal decking ruefully. Hard to believe just minutes before she had slid through it as easily as a knife through butter when she had punched her way into the room next door. Her train of thought made her stop.
She had slid through it ! She couldn’t physically move the meteorite, by touching it herself but perhaps there was a way that she didn’t have to. She grasped the box with one hand and with renewed hope drew it back, then slid it forward then back twice more on the smooth steel decking to test the resistance and then she released it , sliding it swiftly across the floor to cannon into the rock. The irregular object skittered over the flat, relatively smooth surface, bouncing off a wall to come to rest against the far corner of the room. Supergirl instantly felt better, but collapsed to the floor anyway, partly in relief , partly play acting for the camera and partly again to minimise her surface area directly exposed to the source of her weakness. It was still a deadly threat to her. She wasn’t safe yet, but she had bought herself some more time. As she gathered her strength and recovered slightly, she again took stock of the situation. She saw Jarvis gaze in through the opening after the noise she had made. He seemed to smile a genuine smile of encouragement and he pointed upwards and rolled his eyes up. She realised he was indicating the camera above the doorway and he was right. She needed to neutralise it. Feeling better, she flashed a hot glance at the lens, the quick blast of heat causing wires to fuse and transistors to overheat. Though it wasn’t a particularly strong glance, the effort exhausted her.
Willoughby was on the bridge just finishing off her call of demands to the port authorities, whilst Wheeler scoured the night with binoculars.
“I don’t see anything, but they’re there alright. That fly-by was a mistake , some Top-gun jock showing off. But they’re out there, I can feel it. I ain’t going up against no SEAL team, not for $60k, not for $600k, that’s suicide.”
He turned back to stare at the Doctor. “I want out”
She hung up the radio transceiver . “Don’t worry. You won’t have to. That call for the Mayor in trade, that’ll stall ‘em a few hours and a few hours is all we need. I got a plan to get out.”
“Care to share it with us menials?”
“Nope, as that way you need to keep me alive.” The doctor smiled back without humour. “I got you’re number Wheeler. I want to live too, which is why we ain’t making no John Wayne stand here. Just stay cool. No one is taking on a SEAL team. Not you, not me. There’s a way out for us. And I do mean US. Jarvis is a liability… when I give you the word, you can deal with him. You get his share. And….” She suddenly came over all coy as she sidled up to him “…you get me too ,if you want. Oh, I know what you’re thinking,’ this was all for revenge for her husband, what gives?’ but hey, he’s dead and a woman has needs. After tonight the slate is clean. I get my life back, and it’s a life I’d be happy to share with you…as well as all that money the City will pay us for the Mayor or that whore’s body. ”
He smiled as she kissed him passionately on the lips. ‘Men were just such dopes’, thought Willoughby. “Besides, they won’t rush us until they are certain we have the bomb on board.”
“Bomb?” said Wheeler, acutely aware that his small booby traps would not deter any serious opponent. And you didn’t get much more serious than a Navy Seal team. So the Doc did have an ace in the hole after all. He felt better. She was smart. He’d guess she’d have an out planned. And she was a pretty good looking gal to boot. Maybe a life on a beach with her wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Supergirl was still breathing heavily and still very weak, but just putting distance between her and the lethal rock had helped. She draped her cape over herself, tucking her head beneath the soft red fabric as she tried to think of a way out. It was a flimsy defence but it again limited direct exposure, however minutely. It would buy her a little extra time and time gave her more options. Even a few extra seconds were precious. She struggled slowly on all fours over to the table. Unlike a ship’s table, this one, obviously purpose built with the secret compartment just to trap her, was not screwed down into position. She clung to its edge and drew herself up onto her knees, valuing the extra support it gave her. Every second she delayed made her weaker as she was now nearer the source of her pain and her body was directly exposed.
She swallowed hard, gritted her teeth, dipped her shoulder beneath the table top edge and heaved with all her strength. It rose up on two legs and teetered for a moment before slowly starting to fall back into place. But before it touched back down on the deck she tried again with renewed vigour, this time lifting it up to a point of equilibrium where it again teetered, but now she managed to get a foot to the floor beneath herself and then straightened her leg, pushing her whole body upright and the heavy lead table up with it. She pushed as if her life depended upon it, which indeed it did. The heavy lead table wavered for a long moment, each second agony for her, each second requiring more effort than just an instant before just to hold it in position. It rocked on the two legs as she winced with the discomfort, her face screwed up in a mask of pain, her eyes clamped closed. It finally moved away from her, then seemed to hang there invisibly suspended. Then after an endless second, it duly tipped over, putting a welcome few inches of shielding between her and the lethal rock. She collapsed with the effort, sprawled behind the shelter of the table as she slowly recovered her strength. Being in the same room was still a danger for her and long term exposure would kill her, but now the immediate threat had passed. She would no longer be dead in minutes but now hours.
The outcome was only marginally more desirable. She was breathing heavily as she tried to come up with a plan. She was slowly recovering up to a point, but knew she could not expose herself to the stone this close to it without again weakening. She couldn’t get passed the strange psycho Jarvis in the corridor, not in this state; she couldn’t step from beyond the shelter of the table. Sooner or later the Doctor would return to make sure she was finished. Whatever she was going to do she had to do quickly. She risked a very quick glance with one eye around the table edge to ensure the location of the meteorite. Just that quick glimpse left her gasping in pain for long seconds as she recovered, blinking profusely. She had to neutralise it. She thought again about burning through the deck, but even as she was recovering she knew she couldn’t reach the 1540 degrees necessary to melt the deck beneath the stone, as her strength would be dissipated. Even looking to melt a hole in another part of the room and then to knock the meteorite to the level below would take too long. The way she felt now, she could maybe manage a brief burst of 300-400 degrees, at a push perhaps 500 degrees, but not much more. Even several bursts at one spot in the steel would do little good. Then, as she gazed despairingly up at the ceiling, she realised she was approaching this the wrong way. She didn’t need to melt the floor. She needed to melt the lead sheeting lining the ceiling. For lead melted at 327.5 degrees, a much more achievable temperature in her weakened state and one she could reach by looking up from behind the table, without exposing herself to danger directly.
With renewed hope in her young heart, she mustered all the strength and power of her heat vision , staring upon a spot on the ceiling just above where the rock lay. She soon realised though, her strategy was flawed as she could not control easily where the drops of molten lead would land. They partially cooled as they fell, distorting and solidifying slightly which meant the irregular shapes lost their trajectory. Some speckled the deadly space rock as she had intended but others simply fell on to the deck. Also, the effort to melt enough lead to sheath the meteorite entirely was going to be impossible in her weakened state. She felt she could no longer keep up such an intensity of power for her heat vision for a prolonged period.
Instead, she shifted her gaze, running her clear blue eyes in a line across the lead plate, scoring through a large section of it, well in advance of where the stone lay on the floor. Then she quickly glanced at a section behind the meteor, in the corner. She didn’t have the strength left to melt through it but instead weakened the lead, softening it until its own weight from the free end that she had cut gradually caused it to bend and lower, peeling away from the metal ceiling. The weight, coupled with the continued power of her gaze, finally caused it to snap, a large section of plate landing draped over the offending stone with a loud clang that reverberated through the ship. Jarvis however remained in the corridor. He was a strange felon, who seemed torn in his loyalties to the doctor. Maybe he would help her? But he was a brutal murderer, apparently, who had done nothing to help her up until now. She decided she couldn’t trust him, or rely on him to aide her. Finally feeling more herself as the exposure to the Kryptonite was even further reduced, she was able to stand clear of the table, stamping down on the lead sheet to seal the meteorite beneath it . At last safe, she fell back exhausted, her eyes looking skyward as she puffed out her cheeks in a long , slow expellation of her breath.
She waited a few moments, gathering her strength fully. She knew she had to press on, to get out of this room before the Doctor returned. Jarvis prevented exit via the corridor, so instead she set her sights on the far wall. She realised that she had misinterpreted the far wall behind the lead as a bulkhead. As she was still in the deck housing above decks, it must be a reinforcement wall to support the weight of the light mechanism she could hear up above - this meant that the wall was probably thicker than the wall she had bent back, but not as thick as a real bulkhead. But she would need some time to get through it. She bent the lead and steel from the hole she had made back into place and sealed it with a quick press of her hand squashing the soft metal back, melding it together, preventing Jarvis from entering other than by the door. She then melted a few patches around the door frame, like a spot weld, sealing herself in. Now she could at least get out on her own terms, without interruptions.
Willoughby, having realised something was amiss when she returned to the control room and could not raise the camera, came running down the corridor to Jarvis as soon as she heard the clang from the falling lead sheet.
“What the hell is going on? What is the bitch doing?” she demanded.
“How should I know, miss?” Jarvis shrugged. “She sealed herself in. Been a few bangs an’ stuff. Then it’s gone quiet. Maybe she has croaked?”
“You idiot! Why the hell would she seal herself in? She’s up to something. Get in there dammit!” barked Willoughby.
“Door’s got a bomb on it.” He tried pushing against the inner steel and lead lining of the hole Supergirl had created but then sealed. “Need a sledge’ or somethin’, miss.”
“Well….GET ONE YOU MORON!” the Doctor started to pace. “Shit! SHIT!!! Tricky fucking whore! You still here? GO!” she screamed at Jarvis who spread his arms hopelessly and then headed for the deck below in search of a sledge hammer.
Inside the sealed room, Supergirl used her strength to peel back the lead and steel to the next compartment, through the thickened wall of what she had mistaken as a bulkhead. It took her longer than previously due to her weakened condition but with each passing moment she was becoming stronger. As she entered the room beyond, Willoughby could hear the sound of the steel bending , and acting on gut instinct, returned to the control room to switch cameras, picking her up on the second attempt.
“Ahh, there you are, bitch. I don’t know what stunt you pulled last time but I’m gonna watch you like a hawk this time. Let’s see you handle this one. You simply can’t afford to ignore this box, just because of its shape… and then, my dear, you’re done.” She spat viciously.
Supergirl entered the fourth compartment. This time, the table was simply wooden, but the odd shaped box upon it was much more elaborate. It was flat, an inch or so high, around a foot long, and about 3-4 inches wide but with a wider central portion. It was purely lead but at its centre, where it was perhaps half an inch wider on both sides, was a large digital display and numeric keypad locking mechanism. It was numbered 1 through 9. It looked like you might imagine a secret government box to look like - the sort of box that might just house a very special belt. She checked out the rest of the room. In the far wall was a lead lined doorway hatch, that actually opened into the control room, though she was unaware of that. Besides the ubiquitous camera and the usual booby trapped doorway, the room was devoid of any other equipment or furniture. She neutralised the bomb, but deliberately left the camera. She intended to initiate a blackout just before she opened the box, forcing the doctor to come to her to find out what had happened, thereby drawing her out from wherever she was hiding. The digital lock was a six digit combination. She didn’t want to risk forcing it open in case there was a bomb. She recalled Wilson’s briefing, that all of Willoughby’s security passwords were dates translated into the Mayan calendar. Given her attempt to create a doomsday, albeit for a small part of the world, Supergirl tried that first, the end of the thirteenth baktun, December 21st 2012. 122112. Nothing happened. But she remembered the doctor had been educated at Oxford in England. She tried the European version of the date 211212. There was a slight click as the mechanism released.
She was still a little woozy after her ordeal and a part of her was dreading what she would find within the box. This time the box was not hinged but the lid appeared to lift off completely. She liked this less and less.
In the control room, the doctor was getting increasingly frustrated with her hesitancy and caution. As she had done previously, she decided to force the issue by making an appearance.
Supergirl, holding the lead container in one hand by its base, with her other hand gripping the lid, was about to fry the camera when she looked up as the hatch opened and in walked the Doctor, again holding a pistol. The .45 was levelled at the Kryptonian as she spoke. A quick scan revealed the doctor was not wearing the belt.
“Oh, don’t let me stop you. Bravo, on cracking the lock, though I dare say you could’ve just busted it open. You want the belt, go ahead open it up.” Willoughby challenged her. But something in her tone warned Supergirl that the belt was not present in the box. Again her Kryptonian vision showed a human was lying.
Kara eyed her evenly. She decided to play along as she tried to reason with the doctor. “Stop this. Now. Your husband was a decent man, he wouldn’t want you threatening millions in his name, just for revenge against me. Whatever else you have planned, just call it off, this can be just between us. You want me to open this? I will, gladly, if you will just give yourself up to the authorities and end this madness. Call off your threat to blow up whatever you intended and end this peacefully, now. This whole Mayan obsession – it’s NOT a doomsday prophecy, it’s just a change of calendar , you must realise that.”
“Jesus Christ, I know that!!!! I just adopted the Mayan thing because of the name of the device – Mass Accelerator Y-alpha. It’s the first attempt -the alpha- of the 25th iteration of the device, hence Y. When they started all this decades ago, there were lots of MA-1, MA-2 and so on - coded numbers for different projects, tanks, guns et cetera - they just decided on letters rather than numbers for this one. The next would be Y-beta, Y –gamma, then after that we’d go on to Z-alpha and so on. This never was about ‘doomsday’ - I just spread that garbage in my notes to get their attention. I have made a small radioactive device – not nuclear in that sense but it will spread radioactive contaminants across the city. And it’s right where everyone can and can’t see it. Just so I had a bargaining chip to make them hand over you, if I had to. Doesn’t even have to go off on the 21st, it just needs to be at night, well most nights anyways. Tonight will probably do, I’d just need to check on deck. I didn’t really care whether I used it or not. But like a good little hero, you just came a-running, didn’t you? Couldn’t wait to show the world how wonderful you are, all over again. Ok. I’ll play ball. You say you’ll open the case ‘gladly’ if I give up? Deal, I give up.” She lowered the gun. “So go ahead. Open it.”
“And face another booby trap? No thanks.” Supergirl replied. Though truthfully she had just been about to.
“Not afraid, are you? Or is it that there isn’t an audience for you to show off to this time? There is no bomb in that box. Just go ahead , open it, I dare you. DO IT!”
The doctors angry outburst made it much more difficult to tell if she was lying or not, but it seemed to be the truth, that there was no bomb in the belt shaped box. But Supergirl had no doubt that there was danger inside it for her. If not a bomb and not the belt, then…what? Another piece of Kryptonite? She knew she didn’t have to open it, but she decided appeasing the doctor might make her calm down, be more rational, possibly allow her to be dissuaded from her course of action. If she were quick and careful she might be able to get a swift glimpse of any danger and then react accordingly. But if she did, would the Doctor agree to give up as she had stated? She doubted it. Yet if there was the smallest chance of talking her round then she had to at least try.
“You’ll surrender? Give up the bomb and the belt?” Supergirl asked the deranged geologist.
“If you open it. No bomb and no large lump of Kryptonite inside, I swear it. So do it, Supercow, show the world how brave you are this time.” The Doctor spat.
Her anger raised her heartbeat; narrowed her eyes; making it difficult for Supergirl to read her true intent.
Supergirl didn’t trust her, but forewarned was fore-armed. She had told herself that she was doing this for the one percent chance that the Doctor was on the level, that by opening it she would then surrender. But the truth was darker. She knew it was dangerous. She knew it was some sort of trap. But deep inside her, a tiny, mischievous voice urged her to do it. To test herself. To face the danger and triumph. Perhaps the doctor was right after all, perhaps she did relish showing off her abilities. Or perhaps she just had a thrill from the peril. Perhaps it was youthful exhuberance or did she really have a thirst for danger? The gratitude of the nation or individuals was pleasing when you performed a rescue. But was it ever enough? When you were virtually indestructible in day to day life, these dalliances with a deadly peril were what defined your existence. The risk was all. It was stupid and one day she would regret it, but she was young and the young are meant to push the limits. She found she couldn’t help herself. She could have used her speed to disarm the doctor, then searched the ship at her leisure for the bomb or the belt but this way, this way was so much more…exciting. And a dare was a dare, after all she smiled inwardly.
She recalled a line of poetry, centuries old, from the English civil war general, Lord Montrose, echoed hundreds of years later by General Montgomery on the eve of D-Day, about taking a chance:-
‘He either fears his fate much,
Or else his desserts are small,
He who dares not put it to the touch,
To win, or lose it all.’
That was how she felt in this instant. It was madness, but the risk of disaster thrilled her.
All, or nothing. She would dare to put it to the touch.
Slowly, she edged the lid up by the barest millimetre. And held her breath.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
I've got to say this has been a great story. Liked how you handled SG and the kryptonite. She's feeling weak and hurting, but doesn't give up. The doc also is a great villain, playing her minions and is intelligent. Don't know what you have planned for her in the future but hope she comes back. I also like how she dares Supergirl in the end, and Kara has to take the bet. Lots of great tension as she lifts that lid.
Excellent stuff sir!
Yes Supergirl, that's right its a necklace for you....What's the matter you don't like Kryptonite?
Thanks all for the kind words...better get the tissues ready...
Part 6
Supergirl locked gazes with the deranged Doctor Willoughby as she slowly eased up the lid of the lead box. She didn’t need to be Kryptonian to recognise the gleam of triumph that was glinting in the doctor’s eyes as she watched the lid edge ever higher, millimetre by millimetre. That told her all she needed to know. Yet a part of her wouldn’t stop. She had kidded herself this was to help placate the doctor, but it was truly just for her own ends, her own …not amusement, that was the wrong word, her own…desire. But not quite what the doctor supposed, this wasn’t her showing off – after all she only had an audience of one- no this was just an urge, a craving to be tested to the limit and prevail.
This time the lead box had an inner lip and no hinges, so the lid had to be lifted off vertically. She held it in her left hand, her right lifting the lid. She was holding it high, just below her eye level and looking across the box at the expectant face of the doctor. The lip posed a problem. It meant she could not take a quick peak inside as she had hoped. No matter. She knew it was some kind of trap, and that knowledge alone was enough to help her brace herself, to steel herself for a shock , for pain. As the lid rose higher she suddenly felt extra force pushing the lid up against her palm, so quick it almost surprised, such that she juddered slightly with her hands almost dropping the lead container. She realised that the box was spring loaded, like a Jack-in-the-Box. She felt the pressure build, until suddenly the lid was free of the base and the full force of the spring was pushing up the inner lining of the box into the lid, as she struggled to keep the top in her grip. She was battling against that force now as suddenly her strength ebbed away. She felt the pain in her forearm first, the one holding the lid; the dreadful sapping ache of Kryptonite. But this was different to her previous exposure. This was …more diverse, a strange sensation as if her strength were being drawn in different directions along the length of the box. As the pain hit her, she sagged slightly, then she winced and her hand started to shake. As she looked at the doctor the scientist beamed happily, content at last. Supergirl clamped her mouth shut, biting down and clenching her teeth. As her jaw locked, she looked steely- eyed at the doctor in defiance, her muscles bulging in her cheeks just in front of her ear. She was biting down so hard her cheeks started to shake slightly as she fought the pain, the pressure against the lid and the overriding urge to release her grip on the box, to fling it across the room as far as possible, to end the burning pain in her limbs that was even now hitting her chest with a dull ache. And that, she realised, was the whole point. It was spring loaded to fling out its contents into the room the moment she released her hold on the lid. But what were its contents? The truth hit her then, just before the Doctor spelled it out for her.
“What’s the matter Superbitch? I told you there wasn’t a big piece of Kryptonite in there. And it’s true.” She grinned. It was true because there wasn’t one big piece but hundreds of smaller shards. All of different purities and drawn from different samples. That was why the effect on her had felt so strange, so diverse – each separate splinter was drawing her strength at a slightly different rate depending upon its content level of the deadly mineral. And the spring loaded base would shower the room with them all, the moment she let go. The burning pain she could feel was from where the box and lid had become misaligned as the spring had pushed the base upwards in that first powerful release. Slightly askew, the contents were even now drawing her life force from her, cell by cell.
Supergirl struggled to hold the lid as it was, poised over the base, barely keeping it in check, fighting the almost irresistible urge to release it , which would have surely killed her. Breathing heavily through her nose she focussed her eyes solidly on the doctor’s, and her will solidly on holding on to the lid. Then slowly, ever so slowly, she realigned the top with the bottom and kept watching the Doctor as the lid slipped down and back into place. She was secretly delighted as she saw the Doctor’s gloating smile of triumph fade and disappear into first confusion , then disbelief, then anger and rage. As the Doctor finally realised what was happening she lunged at Supergirl to stop her closing the lid, but the Girl of Steel was now restored to almost her old self as the box slid shut and she snatched it easily out of the Doctor’s reach.
“NO!!!!” cried the Doctor as she grabbed at it and failed, her swipe clutching at air.
“What?” Supergirl raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Didn’t it ever occur to you, that I was just as capable of shutting it again as I was of opening it?” Supergirl said with a slight smile. Though in truth, she barely had been.
Now it was the Doctor’s turn to grit her teeth as she shook with rage. “You cocky bitch!” She levelled the .45 again. “Well, good. This was how I always wanted it. I set traps in five rooms, but I always hoped it would come down to the very last one, and do you know why? Because in there –“ she angled her head to indicate the control room “- was the last one. And that one was just me. And this.” She hefted the Colt .45 menacingly.
Supergirl glanced at the box, welding the lead lid shut as she did so, turning it in her hand as she ignored the doctor and the brandished gun for a few seconds until she had finished. As she worked, she let out a weary sigh. When done, she set the box back on the table and turned to face the doctor once more. This time it was her turn to feel triumphant. She squared up to the doctor, her hands upon her slender hips, her cape hooked behind her elbows as she looked sternly at her.
“I thought you were going to give up if I opened that box? Oh well, no honour among thieves I guess.” She challenged the ex- geologist
“I don’t need to give up any more, because in a few seconds you’ll be dead.”
“Oh, p-lease!” Kara rolled her beautiful blue eyes to the ceiling then back to stare determinedly at the Doctor. “You of all people must realise bullets can’t harm me? Go ahead give it your best shot, literally.” Supergirl said, having scanned the gun and only found ordinary lead bullets.
“Oh I will!” Willoughby hissed as she levelled the pistol and opened fire.
There were many ways Supergirl could have handled the bullets – she could have avoided them with her super-speed; she could have let them bounce off her impervious body. She chose to simply swat the first shot with her right hand , thereby showing the doctor the futility of firing at her.
In the microsecond before Willoughby fired, Supergirl had already worked out the trajectory of the first shot, worked out exactly where her hand needed to be to intercept it. With her super-speed she flashed her hand up into position ready to catch the bullet.
In those tiny moments as the gun was fired and her hand came up, she could feel the warmth of the explosion in the chamber flashing out from the barrel of the gun, even smell the cordite with her supersensitive nose, as a micro instant later the pressure from the shock wave travelling in the air ahead of the bullet pressed briefly against her palm only to be followed almost instantaneously by the warm lead of the bullet. She felt the lead soften and flex as it hit her hand, could feel the bullet flatten , its head bursting, splitting and peeling back. All that, she felt in an instant. And then a millisecond later she felt the pain.
“AAARRRRGGGGHHH!” she screamed a short, sharp shriek, grabbing the wrist of her injured right hand with her left as she frowned in pain and bewilderment, doubling up as shock stole the breath from her body as now she felt the burning heat in the palm of her hand as her skin was punctured, shredded by dozens of shards of Kryptonite that perforated her, the bullet’s momentum burying them deep within her flesh as they showered out from inside its hollowed out interior.
Her fingers were clawed and shaking as she stared first down at the blood on her hand in surprise and then raised her head, frowning in disbelief as she looked at the beaming face of the Doctor, just in time to see her fire again.
This time the doctor aimed lower, deliberately hitting Supergirl in the centre of her left thigh, just below where the hem of her skirt ended. ”Can’t have you zippin’ about with that super speed of yours , now can we?”
“AAAGGGHHH!” Supergirl screamed again as she felt the lead hit her, soften and fall away, only for the burning pain of the Kryptonite fragments to fill her senses as she released her wrist to clutch ineffectually at her thigh. As she felt all strength leave her leg, it collapsed under her as she dropped down on to her knee, her head arched back in pain, returning slowly to look in horror at the doctor as tears pricked at her eyes.
“N-No…..” she gasped weakly. “P-please….not like this. H-how….?” She began, bewildered by the fate that had befallen her.
“Where better to hide Kryptonite than behind the lead of a bullet, where you an’ those beautiful baby-blues of yours, can’t see it?” The Doctor smiled back at her as she fired again.
The third shot hit her high on the right shoulder, spinning her back to slump against the wall, the spent bullet falling to the floor with a ringing sound of metal on metal just like its spent brothers as her red cape spun about her. Supergirl could feel the draining sensation of having the shards embedded in her skin, each second leaving her weaker than the last. The doctor fired twice more, catching the Girl of Steel in her right forearm with the first as she desperately raised her injured hand to try and protect herself and then grazing across her right ribs, below the raised arm, with her second shot.
Her face was a mask of hatred as she ruthlessly pumped the last four bullets into the stricken heroine. Supergirl finally responded to the danger the only way she was able, with a short sharp burst of her super-breath that caused one bullet to be deflected, missing her completely, ricocheting dully off the lead wall behind her, just passed her cheek. She almost diverted the second, with it barely clipping Kara’s neck but with the graze causing a spectacular spray of red that darkened her cloak. Though the bullet and most of its lethal cargo embedded in the soft lead of the wall, some sharp barbs still managed to plough into her as the bullet head split and parted. But it was a brief, small victory for her. Although she had managed to deflect one and almost avert another, in her weakened state, with her reactions slowed by the poisonous shards already inside her, she was powerless to stop the last two bullets that were delivered mercilessly into her chest, catching her twice in her left breast, one an inch or two above her teat, the other higher, towards the shoulder, just above her heart. The thundering reports echoed around the tiny metal room, bouncing off the lead walls with a resonating ‘boom’, filling her ears as the tears of pain filled her eyes, and the agony of defeat ached in her heart.
“AAA-AA-aaa……..” the scream died in Supergirl’s throat as her body stiffened, arched and then slid down to the base of the wall and lay very still, a bloodied, crumpled form on the floor. Her left leg was folded at the knee, her ankle beneath the knee of her straight right leg; her left arm was outstretched, the wrist bent where it fell against the wall, before sliding down, finally coming to rest against the wall and the floor; her other wounded arm was draped across her breasts. Her head was propped against the wall, her back to the floor; her chin was on her chest; her eyes were screwed up tight as she winced and grimaced, before her head rolled around to rest on her left shoulder; she braced herself against the wall for a moment, then slowly slipped down and her head came to rest on the floor. Her long golden hair was dark in patches and matted with blood from the wound at her neck, lying haphazardly where it had fallen about her. Her face had softened slightly from the mask of pain it had been, but her lips were curled back in a frozen grimace of agony and disbelief as the deep frown on her brow eased into shallow lines of discomfort; her chest heaved once , twice, then with a slow, low, moaning sigh she lay still.
The Doctor walked over to stare down at the seemingly lifeless body. She kicked Supergirl’s right foot, which rocked the bright red boot from side to side on the heel, before coming back to rest in the same position. She did not stir.
Satisfied, the doctor squatted beside the motionless body of her sworn enemy, her forearms on her knees. The Kryptonian seemed smaller now, she thought, as she crouched up close beside the shattered body of the brave young girl who had dared to oppose her. But any thoughts of remorse from her were fleeting. She looked down at the gun, then at the bleeding form on the floor, and casually tossed the weapon away. “That was for you, Richard” she said quietly to herself, taking a deep breath. Twin tear tracks flowed over each cheek as she let out a long slow shuddering sigh of relief that it was all over. Then she straightened up, sniffing loudly , turning her head to face Jarvis who entered from the control room. He had come running when he heard the shots. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with her palms as she blinked the moisture from her eyes.
“Jesus! You’ve- you’ve killed her!” said Jarvis disbelievingly.
“Well, that was kinda the general idea.” Willoughby stood up fully , turning to face him, as she let out a sigh of satisfaction.
“Doc!” Wheeler’s voice entered the room from outside as the sounds of him rattling down the metal steps from the bridge deck above reached them. “DOC!!!” he called again.
“In here” she answered as a moment later he stuck his head into the room.
“Doc!” He said breathlessly. “ They’re on the radio! The Mayor himself – he says they’ll agre- Holy shit!! Is she…?”
Jarvis just nodded. He looked slightly shell shocked by events. “Poor kid.” He whispered quietly to himself, too low for them to hear, as he gazed down at her body. “You poor, poor kid”.
“SHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! Way-to-go-Doc!” Wheeler said admiringly, as he looked at the still form of the once powerful heroine, now just a small, dishevelled, bloody heap.
“What they say?” Willoughby asked irritably.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, shit sorry, er- yeah it’s the Mayor. Said the city agrees to everything. Offerred himself and his wife, in exchange for her, as well as all the money.” Wheeler nodded towards Supergirl’s body.
“Crap! I thought they’d negotiate for a coupla hours, not just agree. Why the hell would I want his wife?” Willoughby asked puzzled.
“I asked that. He said they’ve gone everywhere together for 40 years ain’t gonna split up now. He said he wants to speak to you about coming over with the money. Only condition is he wants to speak with -oh. Problem there. He wants proof of life.” Wheeler said looking at the still form of the bleeding girl lying before him. “You’d better come”.
“Shit. Wasn’t expecting them to cave in so fast. Or at all, really. Can’t believe they’d let the Mayor just waltz over here either… SHIT!!!!.... Oh, crap.” She thought for a moment as she paced back and forth a few steps, one hand on her hip, one grabbing her hair in a bunch at her forehead. “Wait…wait it's ok, they don’t know she’s dead. You say you’re in charge, do the talking, you could say I’m dead or something… no…no, say...say I’m busy but you are in charge anyway, I’ll just put on a weak voice over the radio ‘H-help..me…Mayor’“ she said in weak whisper, disguising her voice as Wheeler nodded approval, before continuing as normal - “over the crackle of the R/T they won’t be able to tell for sure it’s not her…we'll keep it short and sweet....we’ll just have to make sure they can’t see on to the bridge…put the storm shutters down over the windows, that should screen us enough and protect us from any snipers they got." she ordered Wheeler. "That fake message should stall ‘em. I still need a few hours, maybe less. Need to check on deck.” She seemed to mumble the last sentence just for her own benefit, like a memo to herself.
“Few hours for what?” asked Jarvis.
“The escape plan to work.” She lied. She ran her index finger across her pursed lips as she thought. “Yeah, I’ll just pretend to be her. It’ll work. You –“ She turned to Jarvis.
“Throw this …– this trash over the side” she said, jerking a thumb at the bloodied, unmoving body of the golden haired girl in the corner of the room.
Last edited by tallyho11 years ago, edited 2 times in total.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
DrDominator9 wrote:This is one of the best Supergirl stories I've ever read. Thank you so much for putting such care and dedication into a wonderful work.
Wow! Thanks Dr Dom, if you've read more than 1 story then I am very flattered!
I had an urge to write 'The End' after the last post just to see the reaction! It's the devil in me.
Thanks to everybody for the comments - next post will be up tomorrow but just a heads up - it might seem a little slow after this as I have to take a step back and get Sg back in the game for the finale, so I hope you can all stick with it.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
You do know that the Wizard's Lair is having a Supergirl story contest? It's for new SG stories so unfortunately this story wouldn't be eligible.http://www.superheroinecentral.com/~wizard/Contest.html it's open until June 30th.
“Yeah, dead people do that a lot.” said Willoughby sarcastically. “Get rid of it.”
“I’ll take her down below, do it the old way, stitch her into a blanket, weight it with lead.” Jarvis glanced around the room “Got plenty of that” he said.
“SCREW THAT!” cried the Doctor. “Just dump the bitch overboard.”
“Best not, miss. You can bet they got eyes on us. If you’re pretending to be her on the bridge the last thing we need is them spotting her going overboard.” Explained Jarvis. “The two of you can go up to the bridge via the internal stairs, I’ll carry her body around and go up the deck stairs so they can get a sight of her. They won’t know she’s dead. But then they’ll think she’s in a bad way for when you put on the voice. I’ll go onto the bridge from outside then take her back down the internal stairs and then stitch ‘n’ ditch her. Hide her body with other trash when I put her over the side. With these currents body could be 5 miles away by the next tide, they’ll never find her.”
“Why bother?” asked Wheeler. “Just leave her body on board. It’s too much hassle. Not like we’re gonna live here or nothing.”
“If they do storm the ship we’re caught bang to rights with her body. If we get rid, then they gotta prove we killed her. We could just say she flew off. No one knows who she is or how to get hold of her anyway. It’d be like she just disappeared. I’ll dump her with other bags of trash and garbage we got on board . Oh, they’ll know we did it, but without the body they can’t prove a thing. All they got us for is taking this boat. And we ain’t sailed it away or taken anything, so it’s just illegally boarding really, rather than piracy.” Jarvis explained.
“Ya know, Jarvis, you aren’t as dumb as you look.” Willoughby nodded her approval. “We’ll go with that. Wheeler and I’ll go up to the bridge, then you bring her body up via the deck so they spot her.”
As Wheeler and the Doctor made their way back through the control room then up towards the bridge, Wheeler addressed his boss.
“That was pretty sharp of Jarvis. Guess he ain’t as stupid as you thought, eh?” He said.
“Oh, please. That guy probably thinks Billy Joel is Superman’s dad.” She said disparagingly.
“Huh?” Wheeler said confused.
“Never mind. Forgot you hadn’t seen the government files on her and her cousin. It doesn’t matter.”
Jarvis stood still, watching them leave, then listening to them talking and for the sound of them going up the stairs. Satisfied they had gone, he rushed to kneel beside Supergirl’s body. He brushed back the bloodied, matted hair from her face, looping it back carefully to the side of her cheek with his index finger, before he gripped her chin, turning her head gently to see the wound at her neck, wincing as he caught sight of the lacerations, each with a tiny, faint, green glow at its centre. None of the wounds were particularly deep in human terms, as the force of the bullets had largely been expended when they hit Supergirl’s skin, and the slender splinters of Kryptonite , being light, lacked real penetrating power. But a faint trickle of blood was visible from the wound at her neck, near the tendon, first thin, then slightly thicker, then thin again. She had a pulse. He raised an eyelid with his thumb. Her pupils had rolled up in her unconsciousness, but there was a slight reaction to the light. He cast his eye over her other wounds. None were particularly serious to a human as they were not very deep, but he realised the dozens of slender green fragments embedded in her must be acting as a poison to her. Her palm, her forearm, her thigh and the two shots to her chest were far more serious, as the bullets had hit her body more straight on than in the other instances and so had discharged more of their lethal payload.
As gently as he could, he slipped an arm behind her knees and the other behind her shoulders, her neck draped over his forearm. Her head rolled to turn her beautiful face upwards to his, as he looked down at her. He had a cruel-looking leer to the left side of his mouth, with that eye slightly hooded at the outer corner.
“What am I going to do with you, eh?” he said quietly to himself as he carried her up to the bridge.
On shore, Lewis, the Mayor’s aide, rushed into the harbour master’s inner office from the radio room next door, which was being used as a base of operations.
“Got a confirmed sighting of her from Watchdog 6. She was being carried up to the bridge. I overhead some guy tell Wilson. Think 6 was on the nearest harbour crane, so that would put her on the portside” he pointed to a map of the dockyard facilities and then swept it out to where the lightship was marked as at anchor.
Eddy, the Mayor’s wife squeezed her husband’s hand with concern. He reciprocated by patting it gently with his other hand. Wilson walked in.
“She’s been confirmed as on board, but it looks like they have indeed captured her.” He informed them.
“Feared as much. She would’ve wrapped it up by now if she were able.” said Reynolds. He moved into the communications room and headed for the radio transceiver. “I’ll get onto that crazy bitch” he said grimly as he picked up the handset. “Is the chopper standing by?”
Lewis nodded. “Sir, as an elected official, you can’t go over there. They can’t guarantee your safety, it would be madness to set foot on that ship.”
“You’re a good lad Tom, and I value your advice. But 4 months ago I wasn’t the mayor. And in a few years I won’t be the mayor again. I’m 68 and I’ve had a good life and always tried to do the right thing. Mayor’s come and go, is my point, and I can’t just sit back and watch her destroy half the city just to preserve me as a token figurehead of an Office. And Eddy is coming too, no argument. It’s what we both want . But above all I can’t let her destroy a brave young woman who is a far more important figurehead to the entire country than I’ll ever be. It might not come to us going aboard. But if it does, I’m willing to go, if it means saving her. Now, we’ve got Eddy wired up so at least you can hear what’s happening inside and there’s the micro camera in my jacket button and I’ll use a phrase with a number in it at some point to let you know how many guys she has on board. We know at least two have been seen. Once we got eyes on them all and we’ve established the device is on board, you can send in the cavalry and take ‘em out, OK?” He turned to face Captain Hudson, the SEAL team commander who was studying the ship deck plan for the Compass Rose. “Your men are ready?”
“SEALs, sir. Born ready. We’re not the cavalry though, we don’t go near horses. Well, except seahorses.“ He smiled, trying to put Reynolds at ease. ”Got two teams of four in the water at the bow chain and stern anchor as we speak, under Lieutenant Jones, who’s with the bow unit, just waiting for the go. They’re team ‘Trident’, at the bow, ‘Sceptre’ at the stern. All have had demolitions training. Got four marksmen on the dock cranes, with spotters, they’re call sign ‘Watchdog’, then Cooper’s team are in two Blackhawks , their designation is ‘Kite’ 1 and 2, they got the bomb squad guys, one in each, codename ‘Leonard’ and ‘Sheldon’. They are in whisper mode, 3 miles out to sea at the moment, can be over the target in less than a minute. Got a back up team in assault boats standing off about 800 yards under Craig. They’re ‘Shortstop’. But I’d be surprised if we need them.” Hudson said with a voice brimming with professional confidence. “Full medical support is waiting dockside. The Police chief is in charge of the outer cordon, got around 200 officers and we got a total media blackout.”
Reynolds nodded, soberly, as he put down the radio mike and moved to stare at the map “No doubt you have men around too?” he asked Wilson who said nothing. The Mayor nodded. “Leonard and Sheldon? You named the bomb squad guys after those two on the ‘Big Bang Theory’?” Hudson looked slightly embarrassed, but the Mayor smiled. “I like it. Do me and Eddy have codenames?"
"'Penny' and 'Raj'"
Reynolds smiled "At least I'm not Wolowitz. You ready, Eddy?” he smiled at his wife.
“This mike is damned uncomfortable, Mike” she retorted with a smile, as she adjusted her bosom where the wire was hidden. “But I suppose no young man is going to want to look at these old udders” she smiled deprecatingly. She was wearing an old pair of sneakers and some comfortable looking tracksuit pants with the microphone hidden beneath a very old ‘I shot JR’ T-shirt, that she’d owned since the eighties, and the powder- blue tracksuit top. The baggy clothing made it easier to hide the wire.
“Sir this…this is just stupid.” Tom Lewis said despairingly.
“No Tom, this a Kansas City Shuffle.” Said Reynolds. Hudson smiled.
“What?” said Lewis, looking to Hudson who explained.
“We’ve got a big old Sikorsky ready to winch the Mayor and his wife to the deck if it gets that far. Makes a helluva racket. We sent a drone over after that F-15 went too close. That boat is bristling with cameras. But if the targets are watching the chopper, then they ain’t looking at the camera screens. Or if they are, they are likely to be looking at the ones trained on the chopper. It’s a diversion. Get them to look one way while the action happens somewhere else. That’s the Shuffle. Should give Jones’ crew at the stern under Daniels time and cover to get on board, as the chopper will cover any gunplay aft. They’ve all got silencers but just in case they pop a guy and he screams. Shouldn’t happen but you never know. Jones’ team at the bow can be up that anchor chain in less than ten seconds once we give the go. If we do have to lower the Mayor and his wife down, we got marksmen covering Mr and Mrs Reynolds every step of the way. Though to be honest I would rather use a body double. If you do insist on going, I would prefer it if you and your wife would at least wear a vest, your Honour.” Hudson said.
“I do insist on going. And she won’t wear one , so I won’t. I won’t have someone else risk themselves pretending to be me. If you’ve covered all options I won’t need one, right?” Reynolds seemed to need reassurance.
“Nothing is certain, sir” said Hudson. “I’d feel a lot better if you were protected. But hopefully you won’t need to be exposed. If we haven’t identified the number of targets by the time you are over the ship, then we will need to lower you down. But we are hoping the infrared heat scans from the drones will show up how many targets we are dealing with. I would rather that neither of you were involved, but if you insist…Please, Ma’am. Please reconsider your decision about a vest.”
Reluctantly, Eddy nodded.
A naval intelligence officer hurried in at that moment, saluted briefly and addressed Hudson. “They’ve just had the prelim drone results back, sir. It’s a no go. That ships got lead compartments all over the place and the heat of the generator from below the light tower is creating a dead zone. Infra red can’t penetrate all of the inner ship. What they can see is just two guys, plus the Doctor, but we keep losing them sir, cant be certain we keep picking up the same guys. Like I say, lotta dead ground. “ At that moment the radio crackled as Wheeler called from the lightship.
The radio operator turned in his seat “Compass Rose is back on the horn sir, same voice as before, asking for the Mayor.”
Hudson looked grim as he turned to the Mayor. “Then I’m afraid you’re a ‘go’,sir. We will need to use you after all.”
After a brief trip to the bridge with Supergirl, via the deck, Jarvis hurried back down to his cabin, carrying the unmoving body of the heroine as if it were glass, scurrying awkwardly down the ‘tween deck stairs as he struggled not to drop her. As he reached the final narrow ladder that lead to his makeshift cabin below decks, he reluctantly hoisted her as tenderly as he could up onto his shoulder. He knew it couldn’t be any good for her, putting pressure on all her wounds like that, but he had no choice.
He had been hard pressed to hold her body casually when he was on the bridge, as if she were dead, when he was desperate to take her below as quickly as he could. He made sure he had backed into the wheelhouse, keeping his body between the Doctor and the ‘carcass’ as it were, lest the Doctor realised what he already knew, that she was still alive, but barely. Then he had hurried down below, leaving them to play out their charade on the radio.
He entered his bare cabin, laying her slender body on the camp bed as carefully as he could. He ran some water into the small sink in the corner, quickly washing his hands and then soaking some kitchen tissue and a small towel.
He looked for a moment at the motionless body of the beautiful young girl laid out before him. There were no signs of life. He retrieved a needle from a hotel sewing kit that he had liberated, looked for a moment at it then at her and wondered if he was too late. In sea burials on the Nantucket whalers in the 1800’s it was customary as you stitched the corpse into his shroud to put the last stitch through their nose, thereby ensuring they were really dead. It was a centuries old global seafaring tradition and one he thought of now almost absent mindedly. He leaned forward and pricked the side of her nose with the needle. He was rather surprised when the needle bent.
“Oh!” He said slightly shocked, but the young girl did not stir.
He knelt beside her, using the paper towels to clean up the wounds as best he could. Some of the larger shards were still protruding from her skin and he quickly plucked them out as he worked around the cuts, anxious not to drive the splinters any deeper, dropping them into a discarded soup can he had retrieved from the trash basket. Blood seeped up from the scratches. ‘Likely her heart is still pumping then’, he thought to himself, ‘albeit weakly’. When he had removed the easily accessible fragments, he took stock of her injuries. Her thigh and palm wounds were the deepest, her ribs and forearm the slightest. Her right shoulder and neck were visually nasty but had not penetrated any arteries. The two most serious were the ones in her left breast. Poor little thing. He didn’t think she would hinder him much. She would be too weak to do anything in her current state. He sighed as he looked down at the helpless heroine laid out before him. Best get to it. He gently lifted her shoulders, rolling down her bright blue top over her upper arms.
The large shards he had removed eased Supergirl’s plight slightly, and she slowly started to regain consciousness.
Supergirl gradually became aware of some presence hovering over her, feeling rough skinned hands lift her slightly by the shoulders. As she came to, with a low groan, her worst fears were realised as she felt him slowly start to strip her defenceless body.
Her eyes flickered open and she gazed through narrow slits at the leering face of Jarvis looking down at her. As her top brushed against her wounds as he rolled it down her body, she moaned loudly.
“AAA-AAGGGHHH! Y-you …you creep…” she said weakly, through tearful eyes. She had vague recollections of him feeling her ass after she had been shot, as he had hoisted her up onto his shoulder for the final descent down the ship’s ladder to this deck. She was filled with revulsion and disgust for him. So this was to be her terrible fate, to be raped as she lay dying by some cruel murderous maniac, whilst the doctor destroyed the city and she was powerless to stop it. Despair filled her heart at the thought of the terrible price innocent people would pay for her failure.
“Shhhh, now. Just lie still and be quiet. Don’t want you screaming the place down now do we, miss?” Jarvis smiled his crooked smile down at her. “You’ll be alright, miss. It’s all right, I’ll be gentle. I’ll try not to hurt you.”
Vainly, she tried to lift her shoulders, to rise from the bed, to offer some kind, any kind of resistance to the monster pawing her. She moaned again at the effort. She felt crushed as tears filled her eyes, though she was not weeping for herself, but for the citizens she had failed.
“G-get it …get it over with, … you… bastard” she hissed as she swallowed her pain and her rage. She felt too weak to do anything as she ached all over from the terrible sapping power of the Kryptonite that riddled her body. He winced as she moaned again, watching her biting down tearfully on her lower lip as the pain ripped through her chest. “Hush, now there’s a good girl. I’ll be as quick as I can, but we can’t have you making a rumpus, now can we?” he smiled his dreadful leering grin down at her as he brushed her hair back lightly from her forehead.
She felt sick to her stomach as she watched him start to undress himself. He unbuckled his belt and unthreaded it. “Bite down on this, it’ll help quiet the screams.” She had little choice, as he virtually forced it into her mouth, looping it behind her head so her own body weight kept it in place. She was too weak to dislodge it as she shook her head as violently as she could. As he touched her body and the pain grew to unbearable levels, almost reflexively she found herself clamping her pristine white teeth down on the old leather, as he clutched at his jeans as they started to slip. “When you feel like screaming, and believe me you will, bite down on that as hard as you can.”
She closed her eyes, screwing them tightly shut to the next few terrible moments as she felt him pull her top down completely, exposing her firm round chest as he gathered her top at her hip just above her belt and skirt. With a sick sensation in her stomach she waited for him to go further, dreading the groping and clawing of her body by the strong, rough hands that she felt was sure to follow. To her surprise, the next touch was gentle, caring. The hands were still rough but that was the skin, from a lifetime at sea, not his touch, which was light, tender, delicate. And to her extreme surprise, non sexual. She felt a towel being sensitively draped across her nakedness, covering her modesty but leaving both shoulder wounds exposed as he patted around them softly with damp, warm cloths. As she opened her eyes she saw him start to remove the shards with a tweezers, dropping them into a can beside her. He was concentrating on that task all the while he spoke to her, soothingly, trying to reassure her.
“You’ll be alright miss, none of this is too deep. I think this is like a poison to you though, yes?” He glanced at her for confirmation. She was too weak to acknowledge him but flickered her eyes and barely moved her brow in a ‘yes’ gesture that she hoped he understood. He nodded his affirmation as he dropped more of the deadly crystalline rock into the can. He still had that leering look to his face and she realised it was not an expression, but a natural disability. She felt slightly guilty about judging him so harshly, just on his appearance. Then she recalled he was part of a gang that had tried to kill her and was threatening thousands. Suddenly she didn’t feel too bad. As he worked he explained his situation, how he had thought this was a government operation that would earn him a pardon. “Pretty dumb, huh?” he smiled that crooked smile of his down at her. He saw her reaction to his smile written all over her face. “I had Bells Palsy in my twenties, it’s like a nervous paralysis, messed up the left side of my face.” He said apologetically, sweeping a finger to encompass his affliction. Then he looked rather embarrassed as he finished removing the shards from her left upper body. “I…I need to move the towel now, miss…need to get at that one” He gestured at the wound just above her left nipple. “Its not what you might think…I need to…well, er,…” He was obviously struggling to express himself and she put him out of his misery with the barest of nods. He smiled awkwardly at her and gently peeled back the towel, exposing her magnificent breasts.
As he started to touch the shards she screamed and her body arched suddenly, an act that surprised them both, causing the belt to fall away and him to start, jerking the tweezers inside the wound and thus causing her to scream again, even louder. They were two decks below the bridge where Wheeler and the Doctor were, as far as he knew, so it was not loud enough to carry to them, but Jarvis realised he couldn’t take the chance of one of them hearing her if they were elsewhere on the ship.
“Please, miss, I’m trying to be careful, but you’ve got to be quiet. These ones are deeper. Bullet must have hit you more square on. Seem to be a lot more of them. Guess the bullets that hit at an angle soaked up some of these crystals.” He said as he carefully started to reinsert the belt into her mouth.
She realised that although he was removing the splinters from her body, she was only feeling marginally better. She suddenly understood what the problem was.
“Get…away…from…me…” she said weakly, the effort exhausting her.
“But miss, I have to get these out of you or el-“
She shook her head as rigorously as she was able, to cut him off.
“No…. Get…A-AWAY…from…ME…” she gestured with her head feebly and this time he realised she meant for him to move the can containing the deadly shards. As he had been taking them out, so too they had been building up in the tin can right next to her, their power growing with their mass. He placed it on the floor temporarily and the relief was instantaneous for her as the tin still shielded her from direct exposure and being those extra few feet away helped her enormously.
“I’m sorry, I –I didn’t think. I’ll empty it in a moment, miss, get that green stuff away from you.” He said as he slipped the leather strap back between her slightly reddened lips.
Then he resumed working on the deeper wounds at her breast. The pain was excruciating as he removed the lethal strips, her body arching back on her head as this time tears of pain fell down her cheeks. She bit viciously down, her moans of agony now stifled by the leather.
As the cabin door suddenly opened behind him, Jarvis spun round and stood fully, accidentally brushing the towel from Supergirl’s breasts to the floor; his jeans fell about his ankles, just as Wheeler walked in. She froze, stifling another cry as she couldn’t see who had entered. Then she recognised Wheeler’s voice.
“Hey, Doc says y-“ Wheeler stopped, gazing from the half naked woman on the bunk to Jarvis standing in his boxer shorts, his jeans around his ankles. Supergirl’s head was hidden from him by Jarvis’ body, so he couldn’t see the belt in her mouth and tell that she was, in fact, still alive. He reached the obvious, but erroneous conclusion.
“HOLY FUCK!! NECRO?!!! You’re into necro, you dirty bastard? Christ, I always knew you Island folks was weird, but JESUS! You SICK, sick fuck!” He shook his head. He looked passed Jarvis. “Still, she has got great tits… What am I saying? Look, just, Jesus- just stop it, ok? Whatever the fuck you were gonna do to her, its sick. Doc wants you in the control room once you’ve finished dumping the body. AND THAT MEANS OVER THE SIDE, not whatever the hell you were gonna do to her. Just finish up and get on the cameras, we’re gonna stay on the bridge. Jesus….fucking…Jesus, you weirdo” Wheeler closed the door shaking his head in disgust. As he did so Jarvis called after him.
“ Gonna be 30 mins to stitch her up and weight her down…”
“Yeah, right. Dirty necro fucker. I’ll get on the cameras meantime, just hurry it up you dirty bastard. Sick FUCK.” Wheeler called from outside.
Hudson closed the door to the Harbour Pilot’s small room on himself and Wilson, leaving the Mayor and his wife to be fitted with their Kevlar vests in the Harbour Masters office.
“What the hell is this?” Captain Hudson asked the government man. “Since when do we let city dignitaries go into harms way like this? This is fucked up.”
“He wants to go.” Wilson shrugged “So we’re letting him. His wife too. It suits our purpose. Like you said, it’s a distraction. That’s it.”
“Bullshit. You’re making a play and I’m not risking my men’s lives without knowing what the hell is going on.”
“You’ll do as you’re told Captain Hudson. Or I can end your career.” Wilson said calmly.
“We’re SEALs, sir. It’s always about the current mission, not the job. To a SEAL ‘career’ just means a peninsula in Asia. So, I DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOU DO TO ME AFTER TONIGHT. I care about what’s going down in the next hour. Why the hell are we letting two civilians go into the middle of this? And why the hell did you call in that F15? And we normally have a one, maybe two, eight man team deployment – we’ve got FOUR teams of eight tonight , what the hell are you expecting us to find?” Hudson shouted angrily.
“Keep your damned voice down. Ok. This is the deal. Nine decades of work by the finest minds this country has ever produced are at stake tonight, all wrapped up in that Doctor’s head. We want her alive at ALL costs. The mayor and his bitch are what she asked for originally, well ok not his wife but they come as a set. So we give her him now, and it might placate her a little, keep her calm. Easier to take down. He’s happy to do it, I’m happy to let him. There’s still that bomb. And that’s why the F15 is under my control. If everything goes south, that’s got a last resort package. Ok, he flew too close, my bad. But you get the idea. The Doc alive and we stop the bomb, or else…everyone is toast.”
“My men are going to be on that ship!” Hudson spat.
“I know. And I’m sure they will do a great job. They get her alive and everything is good.” Wilson remained calm. He handed Hudson a sealed envelope.
“What’s this?” Hudson asked quizzically.
“Executive orders. A special directive. Lieutenant Jones has already been briefed and issued with the weapon.” Wilson stared coolly at the navy Captain.
“What the fuck? I’m his C.O., NOT YOU! What weapon? What orders, goddamn it?!” Hudson was getting more irate with each new revelation.
“It’s all in there.”
Hudson reluctantly opened the envelope and read the contents. He looked up incredulously. “I thought rescuing her was one of the objectives?”
“And it still is. Unless she is about to harm Doctor Willoughby, in which case Jones has permission to intervene.” Wilson said quietly.
“But these rounds …they could kill her…I mean, what the hell? Two slugs tranq. darts, the third a Kryptonite tipped dart?” Hudson asked.
“Two for Willoughby, every third round for Supergirl, if it comes to that - he’s got a twelve shot magazine, semi-automatic. Four chances to take her down. The Kryptonite should just drug her, just to make sure she doesn’t harm Willoughby. That’s what the boffins think.”
“But she’s in a bad way already, do we know what exposure like this will do to her for sure? What if she’s hit by multiple darts? Will it just drug her? Do you even know THAT much for sure?” Hudson cried.
“Well if she is incapacitated already, all well and good. Jones won’t need to use them. But if she isn’t and poses a threat to Willoughby… then he has permission to act. Past intell shows the effects of exposure are instantaneous to her kind, but the impact does vary according to size , proximity and purity of the mineral” Wilson said.
“But she’s in there trying to stop the Doc at YOUR REQUEST! Now you’re talking about using potentially lethal force to stop her doing what you’ve asked her to do!”
“She was supposed to disarm and capture the doctor quickly, that’s why we sent her in. That scenario didn’t play out. If we are faced with a choice of two assets, Captain, Supergirl or the Doctor, which will it be? Well, one is human and as such can be controlled, manipulated and has the culmination of almost a century of human endeavour inside her head. The other is a powerful alien with free will, who today is working for us but tomorrow could turn on us without warning. There’s no real choice to make.” Wilson seemed very pleased with himself. “If she can resolve this fine, but if she, at any stage, looks as if she will harm the Doctor, Jones knows what to do. Look, for all we know she might be dead already. Jones’ primary target is to tranq. the Doc, then save Supergirl. That hasn’t changed, unless Willoughby is in danger from her. I’m sure it will work out fine.”
“There’s something else, something you’re not telling us. Any one of my guys could tranq the Doc, no sweat. These bullets …why even have them? And why have pre-prepared exec orders for a situation that’s only just happened? You thought she’d struggle, you thought she’d have to get rough with the doctor to stop her…maybe fail…that she might need to be stopped herself. Which means the Doc has something to level the playing field. I don’t mean the bomb. Something you ain’t told us about. Maybe that’s what’s incapacitated her already. Now you got cold feet, if she is still on the scene you’re worried how far Supergirl will have to go to bring her down, if she recovers and escapes – or once we have freed her. She’s trying to stop the bomb and bring in the doctor…You’re trying to bring in the doctor and stop the bomb, in that order. Are these even the same orders as Jones has received? Exactly?” Hudson asked waving his sealed orders.
Wilson remained silent.
“You piece of shit, you’ve told him to take them both out! But Willoughby will just get a tranq… for Supergirl…these bullets could kill her!” Hudson said angrily.
“She’s not in the game at the moment, any how. Last eyes-on we had, she was carried into the wheelhouse. She might be dead already… it’s just if she isn’t … we don’t want her getting carried away is all.” Wilson made it sound perfectly reasonable.
“For all we know she’s been fighting for her life over there… now, if she has recovered somehow, you want to stop her fighting for it again!”
“I hope it won’t come to that. But Jones is under my authority as of now.” Wilson said imperiously.
“You’ d better hope it doesn’t come to that , Wilson. Because nobody fucks around my guys and nobody takes command control from me in the middle of an op without repercussions. If this mission goes belly up because of your bullshit , I ain't got Kryptonite darts. I got 9 milli Glock rounds and all 15 of them have got your name on.” Hudson raged.
“Don’t threaten me Captain. Your Operation will proceed as planned – the chopper will lower the Mayor and his wife plus a suitcase full of money to the ship. It will hide Jones’ team under …Daniels was it? – at the stern as they board her. They’ll secure the aft section of the ship; once the Mayor and Willoughby have moved inside, Jones will secure the foredeck. Then both teams secure the ship and the bomb. We suspect just two crew besides the Doc. We take them out if we have to , secure Willoughby, find the bomb and defuse it. And if possible rescue Supergirl. Everybody happy.”
Hudson just stared at him. “So why give Jones orders to shoot? To actually SHOOT the person we are ‘rescuing’, with this new dart-gun of yours?” He straightened suddenly. “That’s it isn’t it? All new weapons need to be combat proven at some point. You’re testing these anti –Kryptonian darts of yours! You’ve developed them to keep Supergirl and her cousin in check but you have no idea what it will do to them, have you? So now, you intend to find out! And you are using this situation as cover if it all goes wrong. Jesus! You just so happened to have the gun with you and the darts, just in case, huh? FUCKER! She’s been injured helping you! And this is how you repay her? You’re using this Op to see if you can take her down for the future! Jesus!JESUS!” he turned away angrily with his hands upon his hips. “She’s already been hit by something that’s put her down, maybe even killed her. If she has survived…how do you know that another shot of this Kryptonite stuff won’t be more than she can take?” Wilson stayed silent.
“My god, you don’t know, do you? But you don’t care either! And none of this bullshit about shooting her if Willoughby is threatened – you want to see what your little toy does- what better time than now, while she has been weakened- you can pass off engaging her as a mistake in the heat of battle - you’ve told Jones to take her down regardless!” Hudson cried. “I’M STOPPING THIS NOW! I’m overriding Jones’ orders.” He headed towards the door.
“You can’t, Captain Hudson. Your man Jones is under orders to disregard all attempts to countermand the special directive. I’m sure he’s an excellent young man, who will do his duty.”
“You piece of shit! I can live with most op scenarios. To be KIA is one thing, hell even to be sacrificed for the greater good most military men would accept…but to stand by and watch you risk killing someone, an ALLY, JUST TO SEE WHAT WILL HAPPEN? Just for you to test this new weapon? I can’t accept that. I’m pulling the plug.” Hudson railed.
“I remind you, Captain, that your team is on the ground and going in. The lives of half the population of this city are at stake here, not just hers, not the Mayor’s and not just your men’s either. If you call it off then we will use the F15 option. It may work it may not. Jones has independent orders once the go is given. We both know this has to go ahead Captain.” Wilson remained calm. “Now , I do hope she comes through this ok. If it does kill her, it would be a great pity.” He smiled coldly.
Last edited by tallyho10 years ago, edited 2 times in total.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
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Actually, I've read plenty of SG stories (and written them as well) and put this as a top fave. And you've ratcheded up the tension even more with Wilson and his typical "gov't think." Sorry to hear it'll be a while til another update but I understand. Looking forward to it whenever you can get to it...very much.
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SG doesn't have enough trouble with the villains, she's going to get it from the government too. She's going to wish she had stayed home and done laundry instead.
Hi! Thank you all, I'm glad you are enjoying it. Think Dr Dom and I got our wires crossed somewhere, this story will be posted regularly, I'm taking a break after its finished (only one maybe 2 posts left anyway.) A nod here to Visitor for inadvertently providing some dialogue!(well, thoughts!) Hope you all like it, as ever please tell me what you think, good and bad, its the only way I'll improve. Cheers, T.
Part 8
Captain Hudson rushed into the communications room. “PARTRIDGE! Get me Jones. NOW!”
Lieutenant Partridge made the call to the man waiting in the dark water at the bow anchor chain.
“’Pear Tree’ to ‘Trident 1’, over.”
“’Trident 1’” Jones voice came through the ether in a crisp whisper.
Hudson snatched the mike from his communications officer. “JONES! Ignore the special orders repeat IGNORE SPECIAL ORDERS!”
“Er…’Trident 1’ to ‘Pear Tree’…state rescind code, over.”
“Jones ! Screw the rescind code! Ignore special order! This is Hudson, IGNORE SPECIAL ORDER!”
Partridge grabbed the mike head, covering it with his hand as he flipped the cut off switch. “SIR ! You are using names on an unsecure channel! You’re breaching protocol! We don’t know who is listening! Sir, Jones is ‘Trident 1’- “
“SCREW that!” Captain Hudson cut him short, before he took a deep breath and calmed himself as he saw Partridge actually put a hand on his holster. He looked unsettled- he had never seen his Captain so irrational. “I’m sorry, Partridge. I’m sorry , you’re right. Gimme.” Hudson said.
Hudson took the mike back off his wary Lieutenant “Trident 1…I don’t have the rescind code…but I am ordering you to ignore the special orders…over.”
“’Pear Tree’….no-can-do sir. I need the rescind code…” Jones sounded bewildered. “We should go quiet, sir. ‘Trident 1’ awaiting go, out.”
“You see, Captain? That young man will go far. We are committed to this course of action. It may not play out as you fear it will. It could all go smoothly. Let’s just hope for the best, eh?” Wilson said smugly.
“Sir?” Partridge said thoroughly confused.
Hudson sighed, biting his lip, more annoyed at his own lack of professionalism than anything else.
“You disgust me” he said to Wilson, before turning back to Partridge. “Sorry John…there’s…other stuff goin’ down…” he sighed wearily.
“Partridge?” Wilson addressed the young officer from Detroit.
“Lieutenant Partridge, sir.” He corrected the strange civilian that had angered his Captain so much.
“Yes…well, whatever… I want a dedicated channel to ‘Trident 1’, Lieutenant Jones…” Wilson gestured at the six small monitors set up to view the scene from the SEAL teams’ head cameras, showing murky green shapes from their night vision goggles as a picture-in-picture, each screen split into 8, “Oh, and make sure one of them permanently shows Jones’ camera, will you? I want to see what he sees.”
“Sir?” Partridge addressed Hudson.
“Do it.” Hudson barked. He stared bitterly at Wilson, who smiled back, a false, sterile smile.
Tom Lewis came in. “Mayor’s airborne.”
Wilson addressed the Navy Captain “I knew you’d see things my way in the end. This is just the way it has to go down. Maybe she is already dead, or maybe the darts won’t kill her. We will just have to see how it goes. Now, shall we watch the show?” Wilson said. This time he really did seem happy, as he smiled the smile of a snake. “Partridge, get me some coffee.”
“It’s Lieutenant Partridge , sir. And I ain’t no waiter. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I have an op to run. ‘Short Stop’ this is ‘Pear Tree’, what’s your sitch, over?”
Jarvis dropped the last shard into the tin can with a rattling tinkle and then straightened up stiffly. Kara looked at him weakly as he addressed her, with genuine gratitude.
“That’s about all I can get out…87 by my counts, but…I don’t think I’ve got them all, Miss…” He looked at her worriedly.
She knew that he hadn’t. She could feel the burning pain from one buried deep in her left shoulder. She had felt it break inside her as he had pulled out only half of it. It wasn’t very large but she was in no doubt it would impede her movement in that arm and ultimately, if left unremoved, it would kill her. She would have to get it out herself but that would have to wait for another day. There was also a very small fragment in her right palm, an even smaller one at her ribs and the barest speck in a wound at her neck. The thigh wound seemed to burn intermittently. At least one sliver left in there, then. She felt nauseous and was certain that her speed as well as her strength would be adversely affected, but it couldn’t be helped. He had done his best and she was lucky to be alive. She smiled up at him, gratefully.
“Thank you.” She said weakly, causing him to beam back at her with his crooked smile. When he wasn’t smiling his face looked almost normal, but the lack of muscular response when he did smile gave him an undeserved cruel appearance. But then again he was a murderer, so maybe not undeserved after all. She decided to ask him directly. She felt it was important to know just how far she could trust him.
“You don’t seem like a machete-wielding maniac…” she said, watching as his face suddenly hardened for a moment, before he dropped his gaze. When he raised his head his eyes were glazed and tearful.
“Everyone forgets it was their machete…” he forced a smile, then swallowed hard as he bit his bottom lip. He looked at her and she stared back coolly, waiting for him to go on. Finally he did, with a heavy sigh. “They just came at me, in the alley, but the big one with the blade was drunk , just swinging it wildly…I grabbed his arm and turned him, and he just gutted the guy on his left himself. I wrestled the blade off him and then when they came at me again I just kept swinging it…again and again…just…couldn’t stop…People who ain’t ever had to fight for their lives, will never understand what it’s like…I just kept swinging…just wanted to make sure they weren’t gonna get up again. If that meant ever, well so what? You look at it in the cold light of day and yes I …hit them 10-12 times apiece or more…Papers said I hacked them to bits…but it wasn’t like that…it lasted seconds…I just kept swinging…I just wanted to go home, see my little girl…and all I could think of as I swung, was that if I lost this fight, then I’d never get to see her again…” he hung his head slightly and pinched his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Irony is, I never saw her again anyway. After the media branded me a maniac I went on the run…no way the cops would understand, me and those guys had history…I’d be looking at 20 years at least…so…” He shrugged hopelessly. “My wife left me…don’t blame her…ain’t seen her or my daughter since. Be your age now I guess…little Emily…not so little now I guess…that’s why I wanted the pardon so bad…just wanted to get home…see if I could find her, explain things. I tried to call my wife a few times in the beginning, but she wouldn’t talk and then changed the number in the end. Wrote letters, but…Then things just went to shit…I pulled a few store robberies, trying to get some cash…I’m not proud of how I ended up. I just want to go home is all. I didn’t know this…” he gestured and looked around at the ship “was all to kill you...I would’ve warned you if I’d known…but she said it was a government job, that you’d gone nuts…I was stupid to just believe her…but I wanted the pardon so bad…it seemed like a dream ticket…and if they were gonna catch you stop you hurting yourself and others, well where was the harm? I…I ain’t that bright I guess, Miss. I just wanted to go home.”
She could tell he was being honest and she felt both relief for herself and pity for him.
He pulled himself together, picking up the can and sensitively holding it as far away as possible from her. “What should I do with this, Miss? I guess you probably need to dispose of this stuff properly, make sure it gets destroyed somehow. This boat’s full of it. I threw the little piece she gave me overboard, but I guess you may want to get rid of it forever. Should I dump this over the side or put it out of the way, Miss? I can help you gather up it and the other bits after, if you like, as I know you can’t go near them. Most of it is in those lead rooms, but she has got this glove-thing that she made somewhere.”
Kara frowned “You’re right, I need to get rid of it properly. For now, can you put it in a container of some kind, preferably in another room. ’Glove thing’?” she asked quizzically.
“One sec, Miss, I’ll put this in the metal maintenance locker next door. Rest of the room is empty, it’s just a little storage cupboard, so you don’t need to go in there.” He disappeared for a few moments before returning. She immediately felt better as soon as he walked out of the door.
“There. I’ll gather up the rest of the stuff from the rooms up above, store it all in there. I can get some of the lead sheeting, wrap it around it, as I guess that shields you from it, Miss?”
Supergirl nodded “The bombs on the doors of the lead rooms have steel containers packed with little slivers of it, can you get those too? I have made the bombs safe so there’s nothing to worry about. The glove you mentioned…?”
He nodded before he went on, ”Yes, Miss, she made a sort of… gauntlet thing…she pulverised one of them green stones to dust and then she’s coated the glove in that poison powder, but I ain’t seen it for a few days; she came up with the idea for them bullets then, sort of lost interest, but it’s around somewhere. She said the bullets would just drug you. When I saw you collapsing in that room , I thought it was just gonna knock you out or something. At first anyway…then I… I- I don’t know what I thought really…just didn’t fancy going against Wheeler, I guess, at that instant. He’s ex-navy, trained in hand to hand and all that. Think the doc does karate or jujitsu or some shit as well. I –I’m sorry, I should have tried to help you…I was just afraid. I’m sorry I let them hurt you, Miss.” He was looking at his shoes, obviously ashamed.
‘Great’, she thought, ’a gauntlet of Kryptonite. This day just gets better and better. Maybe I should’ve just stayed at home and done the laundry’. To give the doctor credit, she was nothing if not prepared. She was feeling immeasurably better after he had removed the shards from her body and then their container from the room. But she was still weak and the splinters still embedded in her were causing her some discomfort. She looked at him and didn’t need her vision to see that he was devastated by his role in her capture. She needed Jarvis’ help still, and he had saved her life. She tried to reassure him.
“It’s ok, I understand. Everyone gets afraid sometimes, and it’s not easy to overcome. But you did it, in the end, you saved my life. Don’t feel bad about the past. You made the right choice and I’m ok because of you. If you can gather the Kryptonite together, that’d be great. I can sheath the locker by melting the lead to seal it together, make a kinda lead box. If you just gather what you can and get the lead into position. I just need to rest a little, get my strength back.” She looked up at the ceiling of the little cabin with a long sigh and closed her eyes, just for an instant. The ache in her shoulder throbbed with an intermittent intensity that secretly worried her. But she had little choice – she would have to ignore it for now and try and find the bomb, the remote trigger if there was one, and the doctor. And that damned belt. Her palm stung with the splinter in it and it hurt when she clenched her fist. She swallowed hard, suppressing the pain. Her other injuries, where there were still fragments, were mere irritations but her whole body was sore after her ordeal.
When she opened her eyes again a moment later she saw a strange woman’s face swim into view. As she focussed she realised it was a mermaid tattooed on Jarvis’ forearm, with everything on show. He was leaning over her, sensitively trying to ease her top back up as gently as possible while ensuring the towel covering her chest didn’t slip down. She blinked back to wakefulness and realised she had actually fallen into an exhausted sleep. She could hear the ‘whup-whup’ sound of a helicopter’s rotors receding into the distance, then hovering, somewhere outside the ship.
“Wha-? Oh, no!” she said groggily shaking herself awake. ”How long was I out?” she asked urgently.
“Only ten minutes. You said you needed to rest for a little while, so I didn’t wake you. I tried to shake you a bit but you didn’t budge. I’ve gathered all that rock stuff I could find in the locker, bent the lead as much as I could around it, like you said. Coupla welds and it’ll be all sealed. There was this box too, but I don’t know what’s in it” Jarvis held out the spring loaded belt box that she had sealed earlier. “Didn’t know if that was something you needed?”
As she stared at it, she had an idea. Ensuring the lid was firmly down she ran her eyes around the seal, melting it, allowing the box to be opened once more. “Take this, and empty the shards inside that can next door. But be careful - the lid lifts vertically but its spring loaded so you’ll feel some pressure as you lift it. I need the box back, so make sure you have emptied ALL of the shards. Leave it on the bed.” She thought for a moment, then recalled something and looked up at him ”When I was injured…before, when I was out of it…Did you stick a pin in my nose?”
“Oh shit! I didn’t mean to, Miss! Well, no I mean, I did mean too, it wasn’t an accident but I mean I wasn’t torturing you or anything! It was a needle, I was trying to see if you were still …alive. I’m so sorry” said hurriedly.
“It’s ok.” She smiled. “I need that needle though, I need to put a stitch in the waist of your pants, stop ‘em falling down again” she nodded to where he had one hand holding up his jeans. “My costume could do with a few repairs too” she glanced down at where the shards had ripped and shredded her leotard top.
“But I could just…” he looked towards the bed.
“I’m afraid I need it.” She said in answer.
He looked down “Oh, right. I lost a bit of weight” he explained awkwardly, slightly bewildered. ”I’ll find the needle and some thread and empty this lead box thing.”
“The code is 211212” she said “Just punch it in. But watch out for that spring!”
He nodded “Miss? When you were asleep just now…I know what you thought I was gonna do last time…I didn’t touch you or anything. Just wanted you to know.”
She knew he was telling the truth. She pulled up her top with a wriggle of her shoulders that hurt much more than she thought it would. She sat up slowly wincing, pulling the towel off her upper body, then swung her legs elegantly down from the bed and stood up stiffly, rolling and rubbing her neck. He looked slightly worried and backed away from her, afraid that she might be angry with him somehow. She thought a moment as she took the needle and thread from him, then stopped. “Did you feel my ass when you carried me down the stairs?” she asked with a mischievous frown of mock severity, as without looking she threaded the needle in a microsecond and with her hand a blur quickly stitched the holes at her chest, her ribs and her shoulder. It hurt her hand just gripping the needle. Not a good sign. All the while she stared at him with feigned ferocity.
“What?! Feel your ass? God no! I mean I had my hand …er...on…it, kinda…but I sorta had to, so I didn’t drop you…I – there was no, er…I mean I didn’t..er…I didn’t enjoy touching it…” he stumbled over his words, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
She slowly turned her head to look down over her right shoulder at her behind, sweeping her cape out of the way to see it and rotating her hips so that he had a good view of the curve of her butt beneath her short skirt. Without moving her head she raised her eyes to stare at him, sternly. “What’s wrong with my ass?” she said with raised eyebrows, sounding almost hurt.
“Oh god, nothing, its great! I mean it… er, I just wouldn’t ever, you know I didn’t …er…when I was carrying you I wasn’t trying to cop a feel… I would never want to …I mean I wanted to, as any guy would want to, but I didn’t want to then, I mean like, any man would be crazy not to want to …er… but- not in those circumstances…I mean I got 25 years on you, so …er…I didn’t think of it that way…I’m sure it’s lovely, not that I …er …I’m positive it is in fact…but …er ..I…er…it is a very nice one Miss, but I…Oh god!”
She decided to stop teasing him ”I know, its ok” she said softly. She smiled as she could see he was again telling the truth. “I’m a heroine, not a nun. I know the difference. I’m just foolin’ with ya.“ she smiled that wonderful smile at him again. “But I got a city to save, now I’m back in the game, thanks to you. What was that chopper, do you know?”
“Er, I think they dropped something off from the shore. She had asked them for the Mayor and twenty million dollars for your return, Miss, it might be that. Think she planned to take them to the bridge.“ Jarvis said.
“Damn it! Do you know where the bomb is, have you seen it on board? Or the belt that was in that box?” she asked urgently.
“Er, what bomb, Miss?” Jarvis asked.
“She has a chemical or radioactive weapon of some kind, we don’t know how big, my guess is it would be about the size of a fish tank,” she gestured with her hands. “I guess …yay big., maybe in an oil drum or something?”
Jarvis shook his head. “No, seen nothing like that. The belt was in the control room upstairs but it ain’t there anymore, I went through there gathering up the rocks. She must have it with her. Weird- looking metallic thing, with an enlarged square buckle, quite thick. If it’s any help, she said something a bit odd earlier, said she needed to ‘wait a few hours maybe less, she’d have to check on deck’. Something like that, she said.”
“Could the bomb be on deck somewhere?” she asked doubtfully.
“Don’t think so, Miss, would’ve seen it.” Jarvis said. She knew he was right. She would’ve seen it too.
“What could she be checking on deck, then?” Supergirl said to herself deep in thought.
“Only one thing anyone checks on deck for, Miss, when you are at sea – the weather. The sea, storms, the wind.”
“YOU’RE RIGHT!” Supergirl cried excitedly, “She was checking the wind conditions – she needs it to be blowing shoreward to carry the contaminants to the city! That’s why she was waiting – she needed nightfall! Cities radiate heat at night – it’s called the urban heat island effect- all the man- made surfaces absorb heat during the day and then radiate it at night – concrete, car hoods, asphalt, - everything. It can mean the temperature is 2 or 3 degrees warmer than the surrounding countryside or in this case the ocean. The hot air rises, the cooler air is drawn in from the surrounding area – you get localised wind currents in this case blowing in from offshore! The later the better as the wind gets stronger as the night draws on for a spell, then slackens off after midnight. They are not very strong but for her purposes it’s the direction that’s important!” She recalled the pleasant sensation, as she had been searching for the ship, of the cool sea breeze caressing her bare thighs as she had hovered over the harbour. The wind was light but would still be deadly.
“So the bomb is on deck?” said Jarvis.
“NO! She said something when she thought she had me – ‘Its right where everyone can and can’t see it!’ She meant the light! It’s intermittent as it rotates! First you can see it, then you can’t! But only if you are looking at it can you see it and then the light is too bright, it blinds you temporarily so naturally you look away. I myself squinted away from the glare as I flew in here! The bomb is in the light tower! Is it just you and Wheeler with the Doctor on board?” she asked, to which he nodded.
“Do...do you need me to go and do anything ? I won’t let you down again.” he looked frightened, but determined.
She shook her head “I know you wouldn’t. Does she have any more of those special bullets that she used on me?”
Now he shook his head “No I don’t think so. She seemed to think the one magazine would be enough.”
“And it would have been, if it wasn’t for you.” She smiled her gratitude at him. He blushed. He seemed to do that a lot. He reminded her of ‘Bashful’ from ‘Snow White’. But with tattoos.
“What’s your name?” she asked, as she moved over to the doorway.
“Jarvis, Miss” he said simply.
“ ’Jarvis, Miss’ What are you, my butler?” she teased him again with a bad impersonation of his voice “I mean your NAME, your first name” she smiled her dazzling smile at him.
“Oh.Er..Robert, Miss. Bob.” He smiled, looking embarrassed again as he shuffled his feet. “I used to be 'BJ' when I was younger, like that TV show, ‘ BJ and the Bear ’, but BJ came to mean, well you know, …something else, Miss.” his cheeks flushed with embarrassment again. “Don’t think he got his nickname on the show from giving the monkey one, anyways” he said with a slight grin. “Bit before your time, I expect.”
She smiled. She had seen the re-runs. She was tempted to fool around with him some more, and pretend she didn’t know what he meant by ‘BJ’, but the time for fun and games was over.
“Well, thank you, Robert. You don’t need to call me ‘Miss’ all the time” She gave him a friendly peck on the cheek. “Thank you for saving me. Feels kinda weird saying that…And thank you for your offer of help, but you’ve done more than enough already. Best thing you can do for me now is to keep an eye on that locker next door. I’ll seal it up and then dispose of it later. Just stay down here out of the way where I know you’re safe.” She headed through the doorway then stopped.
“Oops! Nearly forgot!” she sped into the room and knelt before him, her head at his groin, her hand at the waist of his jeans.
For one brief, glorious moment, he thought all his Christmases had come at once, that finally he would have a happy memory of his childhood nickname. But in a dazzling blur of speed she had drawn the waist of his jeans together, grabbed the needle and rigorously stitched up the slack. She looked up as she bit through the excess thread as he looked down at her, bitterly disappointed.
“What?” she said innocently, her clear blue eyes staring up at him. He knew he was lost at that moment, forever. He would do anything for those beautiful blue sapphires shining in her eyes. He would carry that image and that brief forlorn hope he had held but for only an instant, and the wonderous feeling it gave him, to his grave.
“Er…nothing” he smiled back with that crooked grin. ’Oh, well’ he thought ‘Maybe in another lifetime’.
She held his left arm by the wrist and turned it to read the tattoo on his forearm. A yellow square, above a yellow cross on a red square, over a tapered flesh coloured square with a red dot on the left of centre. She recognized the three nautical signal flags and their meaning. She looked up at him “QR1’? ’Request Permission to lay alongside?’” she said with a raised eyebrow of mock disdain.
“I-er, I was young…seemed like a good icebreaker at the time…” he said awkwardly. She ‘tutted’ her disapproval, but secretly she did find it amusing and couldn’t resist a quick smile with her head bowed so he couldn’t see it, as she decided to have some fun at his expense.
“Let me guess…you got another one on your inner thigh that says ‘I need a tug’?” she asked with a straight face and was delighted when he blushed furiously. She didn’t tell him she had seen it earlier with her X-ray vision when she had checked him out for weapons with a quick scan. She let him off the hook by carrying on with her instructions.
“After you’ve emptied those shards leave that box on the bed, then stay next door, I’ll come back for you, ok? ” She stood up and his dream died. ”I need to borrow that-“ she gestured at the item on the bed “-hence the stitches. Not my best work, but I’m a lousy homemaker!” she smiled.
“Ok” he sighed heavily. “I’ll go empty the shards into the locker.”
“Stay in there, - ‘I’ll be back’” she said in a very poor Arnie impersonation that made them both smile. She laughed. It felt good to share a joke with somebody after the last few hours.
“More of a Clint man, myself” he smiled crookedly at her. “Will you be ok? I know you’re super human, but you’ve been hurt…I can help maybe… defusing the bomb… rescuing the Mayor… Not that I know about bombs or anything…”he said awkwardly.
“Hmmnnn.” She folded her arms across her lovely chest, then rubbed her index finger across her pale red lips as she stood in the doorway, dipped her head slightly in thought, and then turned to face him. “Defusing the bomb, saving the city, rescuing the Mayor, bringing in the bad guys…This sounds like a job for Supergirl!!!” she smiled and disappeared through the doorway in a blue and red blur.
“Be careful, Miss!” he shouted after her, needlessly. “Gotta call her ‘Miss’, it’s how I was brought up…” he mumbled quietly to himself. Then he remembered the kiss on his cheek and smiled. There was also that wonderful laugh of hers, like the music of angels. He also remembered her spectacular smile back at him. At HIM. Suddenly, he felt like a King.
Her face reappeared at the doorway suddenly, making him start slightly. She had one finger raised as she squinted and pulled a face in apology “Oh, I know that was a cliché, but I couldn’t resist! Always wanted to say that! The ‘papers have me saying it all the time, but I never have until now. I had to say it in context, or else it wouldn't count!“ she smiled delightfully, winked at him playfully and disappeared with the briefest of waves.
He smiled too. Now, he felt like a god. He would fight armies for her. Or ‘Arnies’ come to that. He smiled. No way was he better than Clint. ”Good luck, Miss” he said quietly to her, his crooked grin stretching from ear to ear, but she had already gone.
A deck above, she heard his whisper and smiled. For a triple killer he was a nice guy. She stopped, wincing and panting heavily as the pain flared up in her shoulder and especially in her thigh. She sagged against the wall slightly. This was no good. She had dallied with Jarvis deliberately, to give herself time to recover, to get herself together. The zipping off at speed and then coming back again to his cabin wasn’t just fooling around, it was to see how debilitated she really was, to test herself, to see what her new limits were without exposing herself to direct danger. She had thought she wasn’t too bad, but the sudden stabs of pain now in her leg and shoulder said otherwise, as they left her feeling weak and exhausted, as well as nauseous. When the mass of shards had been in her, she had been largely unmoving. They had been painful and deadly but the pain had been more easy to handle to ready herself for, a constant burning or a dull ache rather than the sudden sharp pang she was getting now, intermittent stabbing that left her weakened for a second or two at a time until she recovered, only for it to come again in a few moments. And of course she had collapsed and passed out so she was oblivious to it for most of her experience. She realised the reason it hurt so much now with just a handful of pieces in her, was that it was a cumulative effect. This, on top of the bullets, on top of the previous exposure to the mineral in the rooms, was worse than if she just had a few splinters buried in her. She realised she needed to recharge before she confronted the Doctor. If there was more Kryptonite around the bomb in the light she could be finished. She couldn’t help the Mayor in this state either. Limping slightly and clutching her left shoulder with her right hand, she stepped onto the deck with care, looking left and right, the cool night air refreshing her. But the breeze on her cheek alarmed her, for the wind was starting to pick up. It was not the night air that she needed. It was sunlight.
She scanned the light tower, and sure enough there it was, the bomb, together with more of the dreaded green stuff. She was in no shape to deal with that yet. It would have to wait. She raised her head and at a greatly reduced speed she took off, her destination indistinct, but approximately 38 miles straight up, where the sun’s rays would restore her powers.
“’Pear Tree’ from ‘Watchdog 2’, I got eyes-on on SG, portside, forward door to the deck housing. She’s hurt, she looks in a bad way –oh, she’s gone! Just kinda took off. Literally. Over.”
“Copy ‘2’, ‘Pear Tree’ out.” Partridge looked at Hudson. “Doesn’t look like they released her sir,” he pointed to a replay he had punched up on the monitor of Supergirl cautiously looking around as she went through the doorway onto the deck, before she disappeared vertically at speed.
Hudson turned to Wilson. “Well, she’s alive. And seems to have escaped.”
“You see? You worried over nothing” Wilson said, but he sounded disappointed.
“’Sceptre 1’ to ‘Pear Tree’. We are in position on aft deck. No sign of hostiles, over.” Daniels voice came through in a whisper. “We got devs all over the place back here. Gonna need 5 at least before we are in a state to go. Do we have confirmation SG defused the devs, over?” Hudson moved to the mike.
“Copy ‘Sceptre’. Negative, we believe she did but we do NOT, repeat DO NOT have confirmation. Clear an approach to the deck house as best you can. You got 3 minutes, no more. Then sit tight. Do NOT move in until you hear the ‘go’.’Pear Tree’ out. “ Hudson turned to Partridge “What ‘Dogs we got covering the stern?” he asked as ‘Sceptre 1’ acknowledged.
“6 and 8 sir. 2 and 4 are on the bow. Even numbers are the spotters, shooters are the odd. ” Partridge replied.
“’Pear Tree’ to ‘Watchdogs’ 6 and 8, cover ‘Sceptre’ team, acknowledge over.” Hudson listened as the two spotters for the snipers covering the stern affirmed the order.
“Where’s Jonesy?” he asked Partridge.
“On the anchor chain at the bow, sir. Waiting the go, once the Mayor and his wife are inside and we have a confirmed number of hostiles.”
“What’s their status?”
“’Watchdog 2’ has eyes on sir, they were being escorted to the bridge by one bad guy last we heard” Partridge didn’t look up as he hit the lap top controlling the monitors. An ensign was performing the same function alongside him , keeping the picture-in-picture shots from the various teams rotating through the monitors as necessary. The murky green images from the nightscopes made everything seem unearthly. Every few seconds the picture whited out as the decks were bathed in light from the revolving tower of the lightship. “Sir? Why the hell did we let them go in like this? This is fucked up.” Partridge said quietly.
“Don’t ask.” Hudson glanced at Wilson. It was not lost on Partridge, who sighed in disgust. On the screens, the greenish images vanished again for several seconds as the light from the lightship swept around in its arc, warning the unwary to stay away and leaving the ‘Sceptre’ team at the stern hideously exposed.
“That damned light could kill us.” Hudson said in frustration. He took control of the mike again.
“’Watchdog 2’ from Pear Tree. When this starts to go down, have ‘Watchdog 1’ take out that damned light. ‘Pear Tree’ out.”
“Do you think she’s run away sir?” Partridge asked, as Watchdog 1’s spotter confirmed their primary target over the radio.
“Do you, son?” Hudson stared down at the seated young officer.
“No, sir…but if she’s hurting…wounded…I don’t know…maybe she had to…” Partridge said uncertainly.
“I only know that kid by her reputation, but I don’t think she’s the ‘run away’ type.” He looked at Wilson. “We just need to get confirmation that we are only dealing with two guys and the Doc, then we are a go. Looks like we sent the Mayor in for nothing. Dammit! Why couldn’t she have escaped 10 minutes earlier?” he asked rhetorically. He sighed heavily. “Alert all teams that SG is no longer captive, but currently not on board, whereabouts unknown, but warn them she could return at any second.” He addressed Partridge.
“You think she will be back sir?” the young black officer asked.
“No. I know it. That girl never gives up.”
Far above the Earth, Supergirl hovered as if suspended by invisible strands, her arms spread out as if crucified, her head right back, touching the top of her shoulders, her golden hair cascading down her back, still matted in places from the blood from her neck wound. She sighed as she felt the Sun’s caress, though directly below her the Earth was in darkness as she floated in emptiness. It was a moan almost of pleasure , of ecstasy. She felt it revitalise her, soaking into every cell, stimulating her regeneration, spreading a marvellous, warm glow throughout her body. The pain receded, shrinking away to nothing at her ribs, though the tiny piece was still in her. Her hand ached still, but less so, and the terrible stabbing pains from her thigh and her shoulder both eased. She moved her limbs in an arc, like Da Vinci’s famous diagram, Vitruvian Man, as if making an invisible snow angel in the sky. Her strength returned with each second bathed in the Sun’s glow. She still felt a little stiff, and she was in no doubt that the strength in her arm and her speed would be affected by the wounds, but she was immeasurably better than just a few minutes before. She held her position, arms and legs fanned out , head back and was motionless, as she felt herself become as well as she would ever be, with these pieces still embedded inside her. The Sun caressed her upturned throat, kissing her neck wound better, like a caring lover. She felt wonderful.
What had the Doctor said as she lay dying? Something about ‘taking out the trash’ or ‘throwing this piece of trash overboard’? Something like that. Yeah, well Doc, you better look out, ‘cos this piece of trash is gonna come back…and…er…um…make you…um…oh…er… wish it wasn’t…um… trash day….er…after all… or something. Oh, crap, that was lousy. Screw it. She was no good at metaphors at the best of times, she decided, let alone after she’d been shot. “Oh, to hell with it, I’m just gonna whup her ass!” she thought to herself.
Time to hustle.
She opened her eyes to gaze at the world upside down for a moment, seeing her golden hair shining wonderfully in the sunlight, it felt glorious; then slowly she raised her head, her face a mask of grim conviction. She extended her left fist slowly, with a little wince as the shard twinged in defiance of the movement, then gathered her right fist before her right breast, again the act causing a stab of pain in her palm. She bent her left knee stiffly, her thigh aching as she did so. She gritted her teeth, locked her jaw in determination and her cool, clear blue eyes became as hard as diamonds as she rocketed back toward the ground.
Time to save the city and stop that bomb.
And rescue the Mayor.
And get that belt for Wilson.
And kick some geologist butt.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
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Sorry about the confusion, but I'm thrilled that I don't have to wait for the conclusion of this fantastic tale. I like how you're handling SG's personality: committed to her task yet with a touch of playfullness as well. And I agree with sgz6 about the scene with her soaking up the rays: poetic. I'm so primed for the next chapter with the gauntlet and the darts menacing her welfare as she takes on the evil geologist bitch!
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Thanks both, glad you are enjoying it and thanks to all for taking time out to read it. Please post any comments good or bad
Part 9
As Supergirl healed herself, regenerating her powers high above the earth, far below her things were coming to a head…
“’Pear Tree’ this is ‘Watchdog 4’, ‘Penny’ and ‘Raj’ are confirmed on the bridge with one hostile, we have eyes on, but only a partial shot through the storm shutters, over.”
“Copy ‘’4’, standby.” Partridge answered. He looked at Captain Hudson. “The mike should be live, sir”.
Hudson moved to where a dedicated speaker linked up to the mike hidden on the Mayor’s wife, manned by a technical rating, Edwards. “Bring it up, son.”
The rating duly flipped a switch and the voices of Reynolds, Eddy and Wheeler filled the small office.
“-on’t care. Just sit tight folks. Doc’ll see you in a bit.” Wheeler was saying.
“Fine son, we ain’t going anywhere” Reynolds replied. The small camera in his jacket button gave a poor quality, grainy image on a small monitor besides the speaker. It showed a slightly fish-eyed view of Wheeler leaning back casually against the wall of the bridge house, the internal steps leading down to the deck below just behind him to the right. The Mayor had remembered his instructions and slowly traversed the interior, giving Hudson and his team a view of what to expect.
The ensign beside Partridge , Clarke, was giving a low voiced description of the room to the Trident team members who would shortly be assaulting it. Unbeknown to Wheeler, he was now referred to as Target Beta. Willoughby was Alpha.
“So that case got $20 million in it, huh?” Wheeler asked, kicking the large airport travel case mounted on wheels with an extended handle.
“That’s right. In large denominations, just like she wanted. I gotta ask you son, you seem like a fairly smart guy, why you want to go out like this? You must see there isn’t a way out of this for you?” the Mayor asked him. “Well, except the obvious.” It wasn’t picked up by the camera he wore, but he drew a line across his own neck with his finger.
Wheeler snorted “Huh. Docs got a plan. She’s smart. We got a way out.”
“Really? She told you how, ‘cos I’d love to hear it? There must be about 500 guys around this ship. Army, coastguard, Navy, cops, CIA, SWAT, you name it, they’re all out there queuing up to take a pop at you.” Reynolds said.
“Why tell you? We’re good, that’s all you need to know.” Wheeler said confidently, though truthfully the Doctor hadn’t told him.
“Well, I’m surprised. Our psych boys had her pegged as ‘a-punching- out- with- a- bang’ kinda type. I mean, who the hell wants LARGE denominations? You want small so you can pass ‘em on easy, not the big stuff. We thought she only asked for large to stall for time for some reason, wrong foot us. Figured we’d surprise her by coughing it up quick. Still, you’ve met her, you know her better than those guys who have just studied her psych profile for a coupla days…” Reynolds let himself trail off, leaving time for the words to sink in and the reverse psychology to have its effect. Wheeler started to look slightly uneasy.
“Don’t see any red dots on my chest. If they’re so hot on taking me out how come they ain’t lit me up?” He smiled. But he still looked unsettled. He glanced at the slit holes in the storm shutters on the windows. He turned to Eddy, changing the subject. “You his wife ,huh?” she nodded. “Bet you didn’t know he’d been fucking his secretary for years, right Mayor? ‘Course you have, they always are.” He smiled maliciously as he saw Reynolds raised eyebrows. But what Wheeler took as surprise, was actually concealing amusement.
“I’ve had my suspicions…” Eddy answered her eyes twinkling at her husband.
“The reason they ain’t ‘lit you up’ is that’s more for Hollywood and TV. They got laser sights for the close up wet work, but the pros, the long distance guys? They don’t need a red light to tell them they’re gonna hit you. You know the best sniper in the world? Some Brit guy in Afghanistan. Took out a machine gunner holding up a convoy from 2 and a half clicks. That’s like a mile and a half or something. Bullet’s in the air three seconds. You know what? They gotta allow for windspeed at target, windspeed in between, deceleration from the air over that distance and get this. THE CURVATURE OF THE FUCKING EARTH! Awesome, huh? Huh? Am I right? The curvature of the fucking EARTH, ‘cos the bullet is 3 seconds in the air with gravity acting on it. UN-BELIEVABLE!”
“A fucking fluke” said Wheeler confidently.
“Well you could say that, but then he took out the loader that tried to man the gun after he’d popped the gunner. That guy rocks. You think he could see his little red dot from that distance in bright sunshine? Now he might be the best in the world ‘cos he proved it.Twice. But our fellas are just as hot. So trust me. You ain’t lit up, ‘cos the guys out there, they don’t NEED to know they’re gonna hit ya.”
Wheeler swallowed , hard. ”Fuck you, Mr Mayor. You think you’re the boss of this town, the guy in charge? Huh? King of the City? Well , don’t matter what the fuck you think you are, you been taken down, man. You’re a hostage , and for what? Supergirl? She’s dead dude. You traded yourself for nuthin’. Squat. A corpse.”
At the mention of her death, the Mayor’s demeanor suddenly took on a steely resolve. “Better not be son. Better not be.” He seemed to pause in thought a moment. “Hmmmn. ‘KING OF THE CITY’ – I kinda like that.” He turned towards his wife and gave her the most imperceptible of nods. She smiled back briefly, and nodded to indicate she, too, was ready.
Hudson turned to Clarke and Partridge “Get a sit-rep from all teams, now.”
They made the call and all teams started to report in.
“Watchdog 2’ have eyes on the bridge and confirm light as primary for ‘1, once the shootin’ starts, over.”
“Watchdog 4’ eyes on bridge and a partial on target BETA for ‘3, over.”
“’Trident’ team at bow anchor, in the water, awaiting ‘go’. Hurry it up guys, this water is freezing, over.”
“’Sceptre’ team on aft quarter deck, we do NOT repeat DO NOT have clear access to the deck housing. ‘Trident’ team be aware, we have multiple devs all over us, expect same at bow, over.”
“Copy ‘Sceptre’”.
“’Kite 1’, in position, over”
“’Kite 2’, ready for ‘go’,over.”
“’Shortstop’, standing by, over.”
“’Watchdog 6’, covering ‘Sceptre’, over.”
“’Watchdog 8’, eyes on stern team, over.”
“’Fatboy’ holding position, over.”
“ Jesus.” Wilson spoke up. “Four teams of 8, so 32 men plus chopper pilots and gunners, helmsmen on the assault boats, four or 5 here. You got , what 50 men to take down a woman and 2 bozos? You sure you brought enough guys?”
Hudson stopped and stared at him with eyes of ice, his face expressionless. “No, I’m not.”
He walked over and looked through the office window at the dark night, seeing the red light of the Sikorsky hovering over the ship that marked ‘Fatboy’ ’s location. “Shit! He’s supposed to be circling not hovering!” Clarkie , rip Lacelle a new asshole!”
“That’s not Lacelle, sir, he had appendicitis this afternoon, that’s some guy Anapolis sent with Sikorsky experience…Bennett, I think” Clarke said. He hated being called ‘Clarkie’.
“Who-ever, get him circling! CIRCLING!” Hudson barked. Needlessly he gestured with his finger in a circling motion. But it was too late. It had been noticed.
On the small, grainy screen, Willoughby started to come up the interior steps to the bridge. She stopped, listening to the ‘whup-whup-whup’ of the helicopter.
“Well, Mr Mayor. A genuine surprise. I didn’t think they’d hand you over, that’s why I asked for you. And the money too?” she said with disinterest. She looked at the suitcase, but all the while her head was cocked, listening. She seemed totally indifferent to the money, as Reynolds nodded in answer to her question. “Watch them, if it hasn’t started its about to” she told Wheeler , as she turned to head back down the steps.
“What d’ya mean?” Wheeler asked.
“That chopper is sitting on us to make a noise , hide something happening. I’m gonna check the cameras. Stay here.”
“Where’s Supergirl? We’ve met our side of the bargain, now release her!” Reynolds ordered. Willoughby looked at him with derision, and didn’t answer, but smirked instead. Reynolds looked at Eddy with a pained expression.
“What’s the getaway plan Doc?” Wheeler asked, agitated as he covered the Mayor and Eddy with a pistol. He licked his dry lips.
She smiled at him, with a smouldering look. “Don’t worry, lover…it’s all in hand,” he smiled as she puckered up an invisible kiss as she turned away from him, but with her back to him she rolled her eyes as she went to the control room.
“Lover, eh? So , er, tell me, we’re both men of the world… she any good in the sack?” asked Reynolds.
“Mind your own god-damned business.” Wheeler spat.
“Fair enough.” They sat then in silence, the awkward tension building between the three of them.
Outside, the big Sikorsky finally pulled further away and then started to circle, the noise now growing and fading alternately. As the drone died away Reynolds spoke again. “So…the Doc…she doing all you guys on board, or just you?”
Wheeler laughed. “Yeah right, like she’d be seen dead with Jarvis. She’s got class man, she’s gonna be happy with what I got. And what I got is $20 mill.”
“THAT’S IT!” Hudson grabbed the mike “ ’Pear Tree’ to ALL teams - we have 3 hostiles, we have a target Gamma somewhere in the interior. ’TRIDENT’ you are GO! ALL ‘Watchdog’’s stand by, the minute there are fireworks, I want that light out, ‘2! ’Sceptre’ get your asses to the deckhouse. Kite 1 and 2 hold, you are go in 60 seconds! ‘Shortstop’ stand by!” he was beaming. These moments were what Hudson lived for. “Good on you, Mr Mayor!” he beamed.
“Why?” Wilson asked.
“’Why’? He said ‘ all you guys on board’, plural and Target Beta just named Jarvis – on top of that the guy just said HE had $20mill. Not WE- either this Jarvis is already dead or they are gonna turn on him. It’s about the best we could hope for. I’d say we’re about 95% certain it’s just them two. In our business, in this situation, that’s about as good as you ever get.”
“’Pear Tree’, from ‘4, we still only have a partial shot, over.”
“Copy ‘4’ Have ‘3’ standby.” Partridge answered.
“’PEAR TREE’ , ‘PEAR TREE’ this is ‘WATCHDOG 2’ , I have the bomb IN THE LIGHT, REPEAT, EYES-ON OF BOMB IN THE LIGHT OVER!CANNOT TAKE THE LIGHT OUT, WE HAVE NO SHOT, NO SHOT, OVER!”
“Dammit!” Hudson declared in frustration. WHAT?” He barked angrily at Edwards who was waving for his attention as Clarke and Partridge started to relay orders.
“Sir…it could be nothing , but I’m picking up some background chatter just off the Mayor’s mike frequency. It ain’t police, coastguard, cab firm, nothing obvious. It aint an echo of our guys either. And its intermittent. There for a spell then nothing, then coming back in, then fading out. It’s just a few garbled phrases really…don’t make much sense.” Edwards said.
“It’s nothing, Edwards, just keep an eye on it.” Hudson said dismissively having bigger problems on his mind but the young tech grabbed his arm as he turned away.
“But sir…it sounds like US sir…it’s our kinda chatter…check-ins, sit reps. It sounds like there’s another op going down nearby, just off of our frequencies. Like it’s shadowing us. We’re codenamed ‘Mistral’, right? So if our op is ‘Mistral’, how come I keep hearing references to ‘Suzerain’, and someone called ‘Cow’ but they say it twice, ‘Cow Cow’ each time double like that. The only full clear phrase I’ve heard was ‘wait for go from ‘Cow Cow’.’
Hudson turned to look at Wilson, who suddenly looked decidedly shifty. “Ok Edwards. Keep an ear on it. Let me know next time you pick it up.” ‘Oh fuck’ Hudson thought bitterly as he stared at an impassive Wilson.
Back on board, Reynolds looked at Wheeler as he heard the helicopter return. He knew they had picked up the significance of the conversation as he had intended. He turned to Eddy. “Do you think he does, Eddy? I don’t think so.”
“I’m sure of it. A bright young man like him, he’s bound to, aren’t you? Yes, he knows” his wife said, looking at Wheeler intently.
“I don’t think he does.” Reynolds sighed.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Wheeler growled.
“Eddy’s pa was in the S.O.E. in World War 2.” the Mayor said.
“And I’m in the SFW. What the fuck are you talking about?” Wheeler snarled angrily, brandishing his pistol.
“S.O.E. - ‘Special Operations Executive’- ya know spies and stuff. Behind enemy lines.” Reynolds said.
“So?” Wheeler asked, his curiosity piqued.
“So, he taught her everything he knew, including the TWO most important things in life for ANY GUY to know. Ya know what they are?” Reynolds asked as Wheeler shook his head “Tell him Eddy” Reynolds sat back against the ship’s controls and folded his arms as he watched his wife lean towards Wheeler. He was smiling as he watched her get closer, calling Wheeler nearer with a beckoned hand as she looked right and left to see if they were being over heard and then began in a conspiratorial whisper -
“Well,” she looked around again “Number 1, IS ALWAYS RECOGNISE A DISTRACTION” She brought her knee viciously up into his genitals. Wheeler dropped the gun and clutched himself as his eyes watered with the force of the impact.
“UUUOOOOOO!” He gasped. His big frame was doubled up allowing the diminutive form of the Mayor’s wife to bend forward to whisper in his ear.
“And Number 2, it doesn’t matter how big you are, or how hard a man you think you are, any guy is only as tough as the blow he can take to his own testicles.”
“’Pear Tree’ from ‘Watchdog 2’, we have lost partial shot on Beta, but we believe hostile IS DOWN , repeat HOSTILE IS DOWN. Er…I’m not sure, but it looked like the Mayor’s wife took him out with one helluva blow to the nutsack and then a few martial arts moves, that may or may not have been Krav Maga, over.”
“Copy ‘2’” Partridge replayed the view from Watchdog 2’s camera. All men in the room ‘OOOOO’-ed and winced in unison as they saw the blow go in. The Mayor’s spyhole camera only had it partially but gave a good view of Eddy finishing Wheeler off in a flurry of martial arts moves that belied her age.
“Shit. That’s one for the Christmas party tape. I’d vote for him. Just to keep her the hell away from me. Jesus!” Clarke said softly.” She’s better than Fellini on Jones’ squad.”
Hudson turned to Wheeler. “She do Krav classes?” he said referring to the Isreali martial art.
Wilson nodded, his eyes glued to the screen. He seemed just as surprised as the others by her abilities.
The Mayor knelt beside Wheeler, who was bright red, wide eyed and shaking, his hands clamped firmly between his legs, his eyes watering, his jaw clamped tight. He felt sick with the pain. After the follow up blows Eddy had landed, he was on the verge of unconsciousness.
“What was it you said, son? I was the ‘King of the City’ and here I was taken down? Well now, I’d say you’ve been misinformed. You see, son, the King is never taken. Not even in chess”. Reynolds smiled as he picked up Wheeler’s gun.
“Tuh!'King'’!.” Eddy said with contempt. “You’re head is big enough already.”
“My codename is ‘Raj’, honey. “He smiled.” Or should I say ‘Penny’? Like in ‘Maharaja’ “ he grinned happily.
“’Trident’, get you’re asses on the bridge and secure ‘Penny’ and ‘Raj’, we have BETA TARGET immobilised and “- ‘probably weeping ‘ he thought but Hudson didn’t say it – “disarmed. Secure area. Remember , target Alpha MUST be taken alive, and we have one other known hostile, over.”
“Copy, ‘Pear Tree’ “ Jones voice crackled through the speakers.
Hudson moved over to where Technician First Class Edwards manned the Mayor’s camera and Eddy’s mike.
“Mrs Mayor, great job. Can you open any locked access to the wheelhouse, and raise the shutters, Lt Jones and his team are on their way, be with you in a few seconds. Just stay clear of the stairwell and watch our friend there. Nothing to worry about, help is on the way” Hudson reassured her through the mike.
Eddy touched her earpiece, disguised as one of her earrings. “Thank you young man, but I’m not worried. Don’t you mean ‘‘Penny’ great job?’” she smiled speaking down into her chest microphone.
Captain Hudson smiled. “Er…actually ma’am, your husband is ‘Penny’. You’re ‘Raj’. We kinda always had you pegged as the boss of the outfit…”
On the grainy screen from her husband’s jacket button camera, she beamed a huge smile.
“AAAAARRRGGGGHHHH!” the scream suddenly filled the comms room as one of the camera views started to shake and jerk violently, apparently a giant’s boot filling the screen.
“SIR!” Clarke said, pointing at the screen. “That’s ‘Watchdog 8’, sir!”
The camera steadied as the image slowly panned up the very shapely leg as ‘Watchdog 8’ called in.
“Sorry 'Pear Tree', she scared the shit out of me” as the voice spoke breathlessly, the picture swung up to take in a distorted , elongated female figure, caped, with her knuckles resting on her hips. The spotter’s microphone picked up her voice as she spoke, facing the camera.
“DIBBS” shouted an anonymous SEAL.
“Tell your boss, I got this. Hold position, I’m going on board” she said in clear, soft tones, before in an instant she disappeared, prompting more wild shots from ‘Watchdog 8’s head mounted camera as he swung his head to look after her, trying to keep her in view.
A second later she reappeared to stand before the camera. “Oh, and guys, just for the record…NO-ONE calls ‘dibbs’ on me…” she waved a pointed finger across the camera view, her face wore a stoney expression, “EVER…” the picture jerked up and down as the camera wearer nodded, and she left the threat hanging before she again disappeared.
Hudson snatched the mike angrily “’Pear Tree’ to all posts, I don’t know which of you assholes thought to crack funnies in the middle of an operation but if I find out who it was they’ll be painting bow numbers on ships back at Norfolk Roads, YOU GET ME!!!? Now stay sharp. ‘Trident 1’ where the hell are you, over?”
“She’s back in the game!” Partidge beamed, as he looked pointedly at Wilson, who said nothing.
On the bridge, in the wheelhouse, Jones’s men secured Wheeler’s hands and feet with plastic slide strips as Jones himself checked in.
“’Pear Tree’ from ‘Trident 1’, ’Penny’ and ‘Raj’ are safe and bridge secure. One hostile detained, no casualties. About to drop a deck, over.” Jones spoke into his mike, before addressing his team as he listened for the response. “Fellini, you stay with the Mayor and his wife.” He turned to face them – “Just stay low folks you’ll be fine. You two on me” he indicated the remaining members of his team.
“Copy ‘Trident’, good job. ‘Pear Tree’ out. ‘Pear Tree’ to ‘Kite 1’ and ’ 2’ get you’re asses in there, we have confirmed eyes-on of a bomb IN THE LIGHT, over and out. ‘Sceptre 1’ state position, over.”
In the control room on board ship, the Doctor switched from the bridge camera to the stern and let out a heavy sigh. She attached a small circular metallic disc to her temple – and disappeared.
“Pear Tree’, ’Sceptre 1’. We are at the aft deck housing, no sign of – wait, got movement at the-“
As Hudson and the communications unit watched the screens, a bizarre series of events unfolded, illuminated by the intermittent sweep of the lightship’s beam. For a brief instant the figure of a woman appeared in the doorway then vanished. Almost immediately ‘Sceptre 1’s camera shook violently and spun for a few seconds before a watery splash filled the view and it went black.
“’WATCHDOG 8’, SWITCH TO VL!” Partridge ordered urgently and an instant later the green hazy nightscope view from his camera changed to the darkness of the visible light spectrum, washed out to white by the lightship lamp every few seconds.
“’Sceptre 1’ IS DOWN AND IN THE WATER!” one of the Watchdog spotters called in. Thereafter the transmissions came thick and fast, in some cases simultaneously on the separately dedicated team channels.
“Sceptre 2’ behi-“-”Look out 3!”- “I got no shot!”- “What the fu”-“2’s down”-”4! At your 5 o’clo-“-”3 IS OVERBOARD”- “She’s disappeared!” “I can’t see-“ – “AAAAGGGHHH!”-“4’s down”-“FUCK”
There was a brief, erratic burst of gunfire from ‘Sceptre 4’ as he collapsed, the bullets spraying ineffectually up into the night sky but their sound muffled to a “BRRRRRRP!” by the silencer.
As Hudson and his men stared open mouthed at the screens that one by one either terminated or ended up filming a static view of the deck, silence filled the room. All could see the empty aft deck where just a moment ago the four members of the ‘Sceptre’ team had been. Two dark shapes that might be bodies were just about visible in the sweep of the light on ‘Watchdog 8’s camera. It had lasted 5 seconds.
“’Sceptre’ team down….” One of the stern sniper spotters called in a stunned voice. “It was like a fucking ghost…”
There was an instant of stunned silence in the Harbour Masters radio room before the navy personnel exploded into the activity they were trained for in such situations, checking in on existing teams and issuing orders to standby or be ready to go as appropriate, while Hudson barked more definitive orders.
“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!!!” Cried Hudson. “’PEAR TREE’ to ‘Shortstop’, GET IN THERE!!! We have guys in the water AFT at least 2 possibly more, out. ‘FATBOY’, get dockside, pick up the med team! ‘Trident’ hold position, something going down, standby! ‘Kite 1 and 2’ holding pattern ‘til we know what the hell is going on. ‘Pear Tree’, out.” he turned to Partridge. “John, bring that back up , go for the camera view from ‘Watchdog 8’, big picture and zoom in…I wanna see what the hell that was…”
Behind him, Wilson sat with his butt on the desk, one arm folded as he pushed in his cheeks with the other hand, pinching his face into a distended ‘O’ with his thumb and forefinger as he just repeated over and over, in shock “My God…she’s done it….my god, she’s actually done it….”
Partridge turned to his commander “Sir, shouldn’t we get ‘Kite 1’ and ‘2’ in there? Jones is on his own…”
“Not until we know what the hell we are up against. You don’t lose you’re army to fight a losing battle, John.” Hudson was aghast. Gradually, Wilson’s words reached him and he spun on the shadowy government man. “What do you mean ‘She’s actually done it’ – done what ? You knew about this? What the hell was that? “
Wilson pointed at the screen where Clarke was playing back the events on ‘Watchdog 8’s camera. “That, was the future of warfare, Captain Hudson.” he said.
They watched the events repeated. But it was still too quick to really see what had happened.
“Play it again Clarkie, half speed.” Hudson ordered. As it played back, Partridge directed standby orders to the remaining teams as a flurry of calls came in.
As they watched, the figure of the doctor appeared in the doorway aft, then blinked out of existence, to almost instantaneously appear beside and partially behind, Daniels as ‘Sceptre 1’. She seemed to strike him with a vicious kidney punch before grabbing him, tilting him off balance and tipping him overboard. As Sceptre 3 drew a bead on her, she disappeared again before blinking into being right in front of him but passed his gun barrel. He was struck off balance and then tilted over the taff rail into the dark water. She suddenly vanished and before ‘3 had even hit the water, ‘Sceptre 2’ was down, as a flurry of martial arts blows collapsed him to the deck. She then vanished and appeared just behind ’4’s right shoulder felling him with a kick to the back of his knee and a chop to his neck.
“FUCK…” Tom Lewis said in awe.
“You want to tell me what that is?” Hudson turned to Wilson.
“That, Captain, is what is going to make you and your men obsolete.” As Hudson turned back to marshal his team, Wilson took out his cell and unnoticed pressed ‘send’ on a pre written, drafted text message. It said simply “We are go. Cao Cao”.
Supergirl was hovering on the far side of the light from the aft deck, trying to work out how to disable it. She was a little at a loss. There were heat and pressure triggers in the bomb that would prevent her from using her vision to fry the connections and on top of that, the whole thing was packed with more slivers and shards of Kryptonite as a booby trap, to stop her tampering with it. She could see the lead shielding screening the lethal parcels and sighed in frustration. The only thing that she saw as a positive was that it seemed to be remotely triggered. She needed to find the remote. It was only the final scream from ‘Sceptre 4’ that alerted her to the action at the stern, by which time the doctor had disappeared. She swooped down on the aftermath, checking on the guys on deck quickly. They were both alive but out cold. She placed them in the recovery position, then stood looking around with concern. As the ‘Shortstop’ team drew up in assault zodiacs, she realised there were others in the water, swooping down to pull the two men out she dropped them off on the boats. She told the team leader Craig of the two other team members on deck, then she headed into the ship to locate the remote detonator and settle a score with Doctor Willoughby as Craig reported in.
Jones’ team froze in position, at the base of the internal bridge steps with the control room to their right and other doors leading off the corridor. The bridge stairs emerged in a little recess approximately halfway along the corridor of the deck below. His two men, Kaplan and Porucco, exchanged nervous glances as one covered the space behind them, the other the control room door which was slightly ajar, while Jones covered the corridor ahead, leading to the stern doorway. The muffled sound of silenced gunfire outside only heightened their nerves, whilst ‘Pear Tree’ continually stating ‘stand by’ wasn’t helping their calm either. When Jarvis appeared from the open steps in the recess that lead to the deck below, Kaplan had put 9 bullets in his chest before he had even identified the target.
“BRRRRRRRP! ” The Heckler and Koch rounds hit home in a tight grouping at close range that knocked Jarvis back onto the deck in the little ladder recess, where he lay still.
“’Trident’ to ‘Pear Tree’, second hostile down, over.” whispered Jones. “Request status of ‘Sceptre’ team, over.” Long moments passed with no answer besides “Copy ‘Trident’. Standby.”
The brief sight of a woman appeared at the end of the corridor through the open stern door. Jones levelled his weapon instantly but she just seemed to wink out of existence. Jones never knew what hit him as he was grabbed from behind and his head smashed into the steel corridor wall. As Kaplan and Porucco both spun around in a half turn, Willoughby materialised behind them, knuckle punching them rapidly twice in the lower spine below their lightweight flak armour that caused both men to collapse. She then, in normal speed retrieved Jones curious weapon, looked at it briefly and then fired the first two shots one at a time into the two downed SEALs. She was slightly surprised when just darts hit them in the upper body, with a ‘phhhht’ noise, Porucco at the throat and Kaplan in the shoulder above his body armour. She had expected bullets. She was going to fire a burst but disappointed with the single shot weapon, she just looked down at it in disgust and tossed it back onto Jones’ unconscious body. As she stood up and headed toward the front of the ship, a red and blue figure appeared in the doorway from the stern.
The Doctor froze as she saw her enemy. “Well, well, well. Not so dead afterall, are you?” she said, hiding her surprise rather well under the circumstances.
As the Doctor addressed her, Supergirl quickly scanned her for the detonator. She did not have it. Neither did she seem to have the Kryptonite glove. Good. She deserved a break. She could see though, that the Doctor was wearing the belt and had a curious metal disk at her right temple. The belt was quite thick and chunky at the buckle and as she used her x –ray vision, the details of the mechanism were revealed.
The entire waistband was quite thick and compartmentalised with thin streams of mercury flowing between the sections in channels only microns thick. The compartments were packed with a myriad of different materials and components, each with different properties. Some were magnetised, some were supercooled, some seemed to be partially melted to provide a fuel source for other elements that were to be superheated. Some were metals , some were ionised gas particles, some liquids. The belt buckle itself seemed to house neurological receptors that she assumed linked the wearer to the metal disk at the Doctors temple. So it was thought controlled then, she reasoned. There seemed to be some kind of layered dish-like element to the buckle that she thought might be a projection device to create the quantum bubble around the user. Almost every spare inch of the belt housed some element of micro circuitry, whose purpose she could only guess at. It was a fantastic piece of scientific engineering and reluctantly she had to admit, to herself, that she didn’t really have a clue as to how it actually worked. In her defence, it was the culmination of 90 years of human thinking , and she had only studied it for 3 and a half seconds.
“It’s over Doctor Willoughby. There are government forces ready to sto-“ Supergirl stopped as she saw the bodies of Jones’ team littering the little corridor. She scanned them with concern, noting too that the strange gun lying on Jones seemed to be housing a Kryptonite dart. Two were drugged with the darts protruding from them, but the third seemed to have been beaten unconscious. Jarvis’ body lay in the little recess, out of sight and unnoticed by her.
“Government forces like these?” Willoughby asked innocently. “Ya know, I’m kinda glad you are alive to see this, just so you realise how badly you fucked up. You could’ve stopped me an hour ago, but oh, no, you had to go and look in those rooms and boxes. Showing off again. Well now you’re-”
Before Willoughby finished, Supergirl rushed her with her super speed, slightly slowed now by her wounded thigh and the shards still in her body. She was hoping to catch her off guard. But the Doctor was ready for her and disappeared as she reached her, leaving the Kryptonian confused as she vanished before her eyes. She appeared behind Supergirl at the far end of the corridor, her voice attracting the young girl’s attention. Supergirl spun around at the sound.
“Excuse me for just- one- second…” Willoughby said, as she again blinked out of existence. This time when she reappeared a few seconds later she stood immediately behind Supergirl and she was now wearing the Kryptonite glove. She had retrieved it from her cabin downstairs in mere seconds.
“AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!” the Girl of Steel screamed as the Doctor landed a vicious knuckle punch to her right kidney, aggravating the tiny shard still buried in her ribs. She sagged and dropped to one knee as the doctor planted a foot on her butt and pushed her flat. The exposure from the fine powder on the glove was weakening her, as just being in close proximity to the gauntlet was having a similar effect to the direct exposure she had endured earlier, with the larger meteorite. This was much less, as the particles were so small, but it was still not good for her. She started to rise only for the Doctor to kick her arms away sprawling her flat again. That was a measure of how weak being this close was making her , she realised, as ordinarily a kick like that would have had no impact on her body.
Willoughby sprung into being at the far end of the corridor, forcing Supergirl to look at her through her cascading hair as she again slowly struggled to her feet.
“Well this is fun. But much as I’d like to beat up on you all night I got a city to poison. Now …where did I put that remote detonator? Ah yes, I remember. Catch me if you can!” the Doctor cried as she vanished through the doorway.
Suddenly her words hit home to Kara – the remote detonator. She realised that she too, now knew where it was also – it was the supposed ‘TV’ remote she had seen on the table in the first room that she had scanned when she came on board. It was obvious now – why have a remote TV control in a room with no TV? Indeed, on board a ship with no TV. If only she had examined it more closely. But at the time she was looking for the bomb, not the detonator. But it was stupid of her not to realise. That room was down the far end of the corridor. She shot forward as fast as she was able, bursting into the room at the far end of the gangway – and walking straight into the gauntleted fist of the Doctor as she slammed it onto her jaw. Supergirl staggered back falling against the door and accidentally closing it with her body. She recovered quickly, shrugging off the burning pain where the glove had struck her and lunging instead for the remote detonator on the table. As she reached for it her hand closed on empty air as the Doctor snatched it up out of her reach, delivering a cruel back handed blow to Kara’s face in the process.
“Be seeing you!” the Doctor almost sang as she stopped at the doorway. But then Supergirl realised something – as the Doctor started to open the door the Last Daughter of Krypton accelerated and slammed into it with her body weight, shutting it and cannoning her body into the Doctor in the process, knocking her backwards. But the proximity to the glove was debilitating her, the green dust rubbing off painfully with every contact, floating invisibly in the air and burning her lungs as she accidentally inhaled it. Supergirl had realised however that the Doctor could only open the door in normal time. Small detached items like the control for the bomb she was able to snatch up , to encompass within her bubble of distorted reality. But the door, being part of the larger ship could not be manipulated in the same way. She had to rematerialize in order to open it and when she did, Supergirl could strike. But the glove and her own wounds also made Kara vulnerable. It was a stalemate. But a stalemate the Doctor intended to break. At lightning speed she swooped in and out, materialising to land one devastating blow after another, then disappearing again and moving off before Supergirl could strike back. Again and again she repeated the process , moving off and then re-materialising in an attempt to draw the Kryptonian away from her sentry position blocking the door. Each time Kara charged at her, the Doctor would simply wink out of existence, but the Maid of Might was always able to use her own speed to slam the door shut before the Doctor could escape. Though each time was weakening Kara a little more. Finally the Doctor tired of the game.
“I wanted to set this off –“ she hefted the control”- up on deck, to see the explosion to feel the first kiss of those deadly little isotopes…but you even spoil that for me” she disappeared as Supergirl again lunged at her. Again and again she tried but the Doctor was too quick. But the attempts were becoming ever slower as Kara weakened. It was not lost on the Doctor.
“Oh, you getting tired?” She disappeared again as Supergirl charged and missed, propping herself on the empty table as she turned in tired exhaustion to where the Doctor stood smiling, taunting her by waving the control in one hand. She was no longer trying for the door now, just toying with her victim, appearing and delivering the odd blow as and when she felt like it, with Supergirl reeling in agony after each strike. Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty times Supergirl tried and failed to corner her, each time suffering a crippling blow, making her ever weaker. She was able to land perhaps only one in five of her own attempts, her powers weakened by the sliver in her shoulder, the gauntlet itself and the exposure to and contact with the Kryptonite glove. The Doctor was an experienced martial art practitioner and with her quick reflexes made quicker by the belt she was able to either parry or avoid the blows completely, whilst landing devastatingly powerful strikes of her own. Finally, the doctor appeared and landed three vicious gut punches that winded her completely, causing Supergirl to drop to her knees. She feebly struck out with a blow of her own as she half rose, but the Doctor had long gone, appearing behind the Kryptonian to strike her cruelly in the centre of her back.
“AAAAAGGGGHHHH!” Kara screamed as she sank to her knees, again trying to lash out but receiving an answering blow from the Doctor that spun her away to land on all fours. She looked up tearfully, a thin trickle of blood flowing from the corner of her mouth as she stared through the golden curtain of her hair, formed by her lowered head. Supergirl could taste something strange, something thick and slightly salty in her mouth. She licked her lips, frowning and bewildered as to her surprise she realised it was her own blood. The sickly taste was mixed with the sour bitterness of the realisation that now, in the most important battle of her young life, with millions of innocent lives at stake, she was losing. And losing badly. She needed to get her hands on the remote detonator, but all she could do was look on impotently as the Doctor forever kept it from her reach. There was nothing she could do to get it and no way she could see of stopping the Doctor, as Willoughby held it aloft one final time.
“Here you go kiddo! This city will rue the day you ever set foot in it. Your name will be forever remembered as the one who let the people down, the girl who let half the city die whilst all she could do was look on.” Supergirl sped over to the Doctor one last time, putting all her efforts into her astonishing speed. But she clutched empty air as the Doctor disappeared. She paid the price for her heroism suffering a brutal stomach punch that had her collapsing in agony, clutching her body where the Kryptonite glove had hit home.
“AAAAGGGGGHHHH!” she cried as she sank to the floor once more.
“You fail again , golden girl” the Doctor said as she moved her thumb to press the button to detonate the bomb.
Last edited by tallyho11 years ago, edited 2 times in total.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
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You continue to find unique and devastating ways to employ kryptonite against Supergirl. It's a treat to read your work and your cliffhangars aren't too shabby either! Thanks for all the fun.
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Thanks again everyone. This was to be the last post but it turned into a bit of a monster, so I have had to split it. And I thought of a great fate to befall our heroine so I strung it out a bit. And hell I’m just enjoying myself and didn’t want it to end!
Part 10
As Supergirl fought for her life, all hell was breaking loose in the SEAL operations room.
“JONES IS DOWN!” cried Partridge as they watched the Doctor disable the three members of team Trident. “Trident 2 and 4 not answering…”
“Play back Jones’ cam - NOW! Clarke, tell Fellini to sit tight.” Hudson barked.
They then watched the replay from Jones’ camera, the brief flash of the Doctor standing in the doorway and then the chaotic scenes as Jones, Kaplan and Porucco were all taken down. They switched to the two other team members’ cameras, but they all told the same story – a brief glimpse of an incredibly fast enemy before the cameras either blackened in the case of Jones’, or showed floor and wall from Kaplan and Porucco.
“You fucking knew we were going up against this-whatever-the-hell-it-is and you didn’t TELL US?!!!” Partridge stood angrily , his nostrils flared in rage as he stared incredulously at Wilson.
“You raise your voice to me , boy, and I’ll have you busted out of the navy so fast it’ll make what you’ve just seen look slow. It’s classified Partridge. You don’t need to know.” Wilson said.
“It’s LIEUTENANT Partridge you supercilious prick! You could have gotten all those guys and the Mayor and his wife killed keeping your little secrets! How the hell do you people sleep at night?”
“Like a baby” Wilson said crisply.
“Good. ‘cos that means you cry yourself to sleep and wake up screaming, rolling around in your own damned faeces.” Partridge countered.
“STOW IT SAILOR!” Hudson barked. “Clarke, get ‘Shortstop’ aboard, secure those men who are down aft and get ready to med evac them out. Get the Kite guys set down for’ard and aft but just tell them to make a start on that bomb. Stay out of the ship. Edwards , tell Fellini to evac ‘Penny’ and ‘Raj’ to the bow. Where the hell is ‘Fatboy’ with the med guys?”
“He ain’t answering, sir” Clarke replied.
“’Pear Tree’, this is ‘Watchdog 6’…I got military behind me in the marshalling yards…and…it looks like the Sikorsky is landing to pick ‘em up? They with us? What gives, over?”
“CHRIST!” Hudson turned angrily to Wilson “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? That asshole in the Sikorsky is your guy, ain’t he? Lacelle ain’t sick, you stood him down! Goddammit, ‘Fatboy’ was supposed to ferry the med team out to the boat!” He spun around to Partridge, “tell Craig to get his injured men back to the dock in a Zodiac, the med team aint comin’. Tell the med squad to rendezvous dockside with him.”
“’Pear Tree’, ‘Kite 1’, ‘Spiders’ away, over.” The ‘Spiders’ were a reference to the assault team and the bomb disposal man ‘Leonard’ who had abseiled down to the fore deck, under Lt Commander Cooper.
Hudson turned back to the mike by Partridge “ ‘Kite 1’ from ‘Pear Tree’. Get your ass over to ‘Watchdog 6’s position. Stop ‘Fatboy’ taking off, over.”
“Say again ‘Pear Tree', over.”
“You heard me sailor” Hudson shouted angrily.
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Wilson shouted.
“’Pear Tree’, ‘Kite 1’ , how , over?”
“Sit on them, they can’t go up if you’re on top of ‘em. And if they force the issue- you got Hernandez on the gun?”
“Er…aye,sir? Over. ”
“So get him to shoot the rotor stem off of ‘Fatboy’, ‘Pear Tree’ out.”
“Er,…. Roger that ’Pear Tree’, ‘Kite 1’, out.”
“YOU CRAZY FUCKER! YOU CANT DO THIS!!!” Wilson bellowed.
“Oh, really? It’s all right for you to endanger my men’s lives, but not for me to endanger your guys? How does that work exactly, Mr Wilson? Or should I say ‘Cao Cao’? “
Wilson’s nostrils’ flared “This is MY OPERATION!”
“No. It’s mine. It was under you. You playing spy with your secret op and withdrawing medical support for my casualties has crossed the line.” Hudson remained calm.
“This is bigger than the lives of a coupla grunts, and make no mistake Captain , that’s all your men are. Elite grunts, but grunts none the less.”
“WHY, YOU ARROGANT FUCK-!” Partridge rounded on Wilson but Hudson held him back.
“You keep talking to me like that PARTRDIGE and I’ll have you back picking cotton.” Wilson rose to his feet , angry himself now, staring nose to nose with the young coloured officer.
Partridge stopped, the muscles at his jaw bulging as he swallowed back his anger.
There was silence in the comms room. Hudson, his back to Wilson, smiled at Partridge and released his grip on him, mouthing the words ‘He’s all yours’.
Everyone knew Wilson had made a mistake. Pretty soon Wilson knew it too.
“Sir,” Partridge said with immense control, “while I wear this uniform, if you insult me, then you insult what this uniform represents.” He turned to face Hudson. “Does he even hold any rank in the Navy, sir?” Hudson shook his head.
“I’m ABOVE the Navy, PARTRIDGE” Wilson said with emphasis.
“Sir, with respect, the only thing above the US Navy is ‘Old Glory’ and frankly, sir, you don’t look like no fucking flag I’ve ever seen.”
Wilson had been trained in a variety of unarmed combat techniques. However most involve anticipating you are actually under threat as a first step in the process of self-defence. He hadn’t actively used his combat skills in 14 years. For the last ten he had spent his time running operations from control rooms like this. He had even signed off on his own annual refresher training courses in unarmed combat for the last three years, thinking them a waste of time. He was about to regret that decision. He still had his arms folded as he leant towards the black officer before him. Misplaced overconfidence in such circumstances rarely ends well.
“I want 4 copies of that recording AND the earlier incident, Partridge, and ALL footage from ALL units in this operation, and I wa-“
As Partridge landed his fist square on Wilson’s nose, the covert agent had no time to unfold his arms and defend himself. There was a reassuring crack and a spray of blood as Wilson sat down heavily on his ass, clutching his nose, his eyes wide in surprise.
“It’s LIEUTENANT Partridge , sir, and if you don’t hold any rank in the Navy, then I can’t be busted for striking a superior officer. Now I’ve got an Op-gone-bad we need to sort out. You’ll have your copies when we’re done.”
“You’re outta here mister!” Wilson said as he struggled up , shrugging off Hudson’s aid.
“Really? “ Hudson asked, surprised. “ Because that will involve a courts martial…ya know…where you appear, give your real name and id, address, what you do, all that kinda thing. Recount what was said. All the kinda stuff you Shape boys hate.” He said referring to Pentagon staff. ”’Back picking cotton’ was it?” he asked with a fake frown.
Wilson frowned for real, his anger building. “I CAN HAVE YOU ALL BASED IN FUCKING ALASKA FOR THE REST OF YOUR SERVICE!”
“Good. We’ve been on active Ops for 6 years, be a nice break for me an’ the boys.” Hudson smiled affably. “But park this. Lieutenant Partridge is right we gotta save this Op. Now tell us what the fuck are we up against here?”
“Sir! I got that ghost op back, they’re going loco over something” Edwards called out.
“Ah, that would be Mr ‘Cao Cao’ here’s little project, right? ‘Suzerain’?” Hudson said, addressing Wilson. “Guess they are pissed that ‘Fatboy’ can’t take off. Only you would think of calling yourself after that scheming bastard.” He saw Edwards frown and went on to explain.”It’s not COW the animal its C-A-O , ‘Cao-Cao’. He was the last Prime Minister of the Han Dynasty in China. The power behind the throne. You seem surprised us grunts know such things, Mr Wilson. We’re not all grunts. I always remember one story, when someone asked him why he supported the corrupt Han Dynasty, you know what he said, Edwards? “, he turned to face the radio technician, who shook his head.
“Cao Cao looked at the twilight sky and said ‘This day is ended. The Sun is dying. Yet its fading light may still be of some worth…’ And the guy looked at Cao Cao and said “Ah, now I understand why you do it. Because in the morning… there will be a new Sun’.
Hudson stared coldly at Wilson. Edwards stared bewildered at them both, “Sir?”
Hudson ignored him as he went on.
“And that’s you all over, isn’t it Mr Wilson? You’re just doing this to further you’re career. You don’t give a shit about anyone, just as Cao Cao didn’t give a damn about the Han. You’re building empire. You see yourself as the new Sun. You know how I learned about Cao Cao, Mr Wilson? Strat and Tac classes at Anapolis. He fought a river battle at Chi Bi. Had over a million men in his army. But they were an ARMY, they weren’t sailors. Got beat by guys who were and who knew the local conditions. Burnt his fleet with fireships. You and he got a lot in common, Mr Wilson. He didn’t care about his men either, he thought he was untouchable as well, and just like you, he lost.”
Edwards looked more confused than ever. “Soooo who or what is Suzerain?”
Hudson sighed “Maybe you are right Wilson, maybe my guys are just grunts. A ‘suzerain’ is an overlord state that controls the affairs of a minor, supposedly independent, country or a colony. It’s a fancy way of saying our Op is his Op’s bitch.” He explained to Edwards.
He looked out at the dockside where ‘Kite 1’ hovered over ‘Fatboy’ by using a pair of nightvision binoculars. “Suppose those guys of yours all got weapons like Jones’ had, huh? Too bad. Hernandez has got a 50 Cal. My guys were just fodder for you , weren’t they? Well, your boys are going nowhere. If this is gonna end, it’s my men who are gonna end it. We got guys looking at the bomb, we have the stern and bow secured. If we are gonna go in against whatever it is, it’s time for you to spill the beans. WE are your only option now, Mr Wilson. So what gives?”
“You can’t pull this shit on me! I got influence…” he left the threat hanging in the air.
“That’s nice. Real nice. But I got Blackhawks” Hudson said with a cold smile.
Wilson sighed, grinding his teeth as he looked up at the ceiling and silently cursed his luck.
“If this doesn’t end well, WE ARE ALL FINISHED!” He screamed at the Captain. “I don’t get that belt back, and I’m history, and if I go down I’m damn sure gonna take you all with me.”
“Belt? Suppose you tell us what the fuck is going down and then when we know ALL the facts, we’ll see if we can turn this fucked- up- mother- of- a- covert- op around, shall we?” Hudson said.
“Sir, Lt Commander Cooper is with his boys and ‘Sheldon’ on the aft quarter deck, he’s got 'Kite 2' flying top cover and he’s asking what the hell is going on…” Clarke informed him.
“Ain’t we all Clarkie, aint we all…” Hudson said never taking his eyes off Wilson.
Wilson sighed heavily. “Listen,” he began, “The Doctor has a very special device…”
“No shit?” said Clarke sarcastically.
Supergirl slumped dejected on the floor of the small room, exhausted. She had tried again and again to corner the Doctor to disarm her of either the device or the detonator, but all attempts had failed. She realised that what the doctor had said was perfectly true. All she could do was look on, as the Doctor pushed the button. But fortunately, when you have a type of heat vision, there are times when looking on can be enough. But she needed to have the doctor still, remaining in position for just an extra second or so after she started to take action, to make sure she could hit the control with enough power. In her current state she wasn’t sure one quick glance would be enough and if the Doctor used the belt to get away, she could easily trigger the bomb. Her attempts to rush her had all failed as the doctor read her intent and winked out of existence. In her weakened condition she was no match even with her super speed for the doctor’s speed of thought. She realised it was because the Doctor was anticipating her moves, reading her body language accurately. So as the Doctor moved to press the button of the detonator, Supergirl deliberately stayed still, her head bowed slightly , avoiding direct eye contact. She knew too, that the Kryptonite glove would impede her powers and that was the real problem – as she sped towards the Doctor, getting nearer to the glove slowed her down, sapping her energy and will , allowing the Doctor to have the edge. She decided to try and wrong foot her, to get her to hesitate for an instant.
Keeping her head bowed, her hair screening direct eye contact she gasped weakly “I’ve…defused… bomb.”
As her words sank in, it had just the reaction she hoped for, delaying the Doctor from pressing the button as she digested the importance of the words. “What? You can’t ha-“
Supergirl suddenly flashed out a burst of her freezing breath, catching the doctor by surprise as the jet of cold air hit her hand. Kara instantly followed it up with a glance of her heat vision that seared the battery of the remote, frying its components and rendering the control useless, burning the fingers that held it so she dropped the control with a start. But the Doctor still vanished, to suddenly appear standing over her, and as Kara looked up in surprise she brought her right hand with the glove on it down, catching Kara high on her left cheek at the corner of her eye with a blow of brutal force, stunning the heroine.
“A-AAAAGGGGHHH!” Kara screamed as the blow connected, but it was the microscopic spray of Kryptonic dust that spread into her eyes that caused her the real agony. Her left eye bore the brunt of it, as particles and tiny flakes lodged between her eye and eyelid, the terrible burning sensation stabbing into her brain’s pain receptors as they flared in agony as the dust burnt her blue eyes. She brought up her right hand, using the back to press into her left eye socket to try and give some small relief.
Willoughby retrieved the control and stabbed down on the detonator button ineffectually twice, three times, but nothing happened.
“Damn you, bitch!” she landed a flying roundhouse which snapped back Kara’s head as it connected with her jaw. Though it only had the force of a human kick, against her in her current condition and with the glove drawing off her powers, she truly felt the blow, groaning and wincing in reaction.
“A-OOH!” she gasped, blinking profusely as she realised some flakes, infinitesimally small, were also in her right eye as well. As she struggled to see, the Doctor kept disappearing and then popping up right beside her, landing a brutal blow and cursing her name before vanishing again. As Kara slumped head bowed her hand at her left eye the Doctor suddenly appeared at her right side prompting Kara to raise her head straight into the vicious backhand blow that landed across her right eye. Sending her reeling. As now her right eye blurred and became inflamed with pain, she realised her heat vision was no longer an option. Indeed, any vision may soon no longer be an option.
Willoughby kept varying her attacks, never hitting Kara from the same direction and never staying long enough for Kara to land a blow of her own. As she struggled to clear her vision Supergirl lashed out blindly, swinging wildly to no effect. After a flurry of attacks Helen Willoughby materialised well away from Kara on the far side of the room, panting heavily herself from her exertions. He face was bright red and her nose was bleeding a thin trickle from her right nostril. The veins were throbbing at her temples and it was obvious that using the device was taking its toll on the doctor. Or it should have been obvious. Kara slumped in the centre of the room, looking balefully towards the Doctor. But the dust specks in her right eye meant she had only a hazy recognition of shape against shades of colour. She could see the vague form of what was probably a woman if she had to guess, which of course she knew to be Willoughby, against a background of light and dark; light walls, with a darker ceiling. What frightened her though, was not the impaired vision in her right eye, but the fact that she was completely blind in her left. She daren’t reveal her weakness.
Though she couldn’t see, her super senses could smell the Doctor’s blood, and her blurred right eye seemed to show Willoughby lifting a hand to her face, then looking at it for a moment, before moving it rigorously up and down her thigh briefly. She could hear the Doctor breathing, quite heavily, with her sensitive hearing. She put two and two together and deduced that using the device was causing the Doctor some problems after all. But she hardly had time to dwell on the matter as Willoughby came at her again, appearing here, there and everywhere about her, just half seconds apart, landing blow after blow with the glove. She struck Kara on the back of her left shoulder, inflaming the shard lodged at its front.
“AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” the Kryptonian screamed, as her arm erupted in flame as the nerve endings cried out at the hurt, the burning pain barely subsiding before the Doctor had struck again, this time hitting her full on the jaw, the raging inferno of the glove touching her flesh causing her body to recoil and spin away, almost as much as the force of the blow. Way too late she tried to bring her arm up to protect herself, but her left arm felt numb with the pain, with the strange and for her unusual sensation of pins and needles in her deadened fingers as the shard in her shoulder affected her circulation. She landed sprawled, face down, her left knee bent, her skirt ridden up to reveal a perfectly smooth bronzed thigh, her cape splayed back .
The Doctor stood off her again and this time Kara could at last see her more clearly. She realised it was the tears from the blow that had helped clear her vision very slightly in her right eye. It wasn’t crystal clear, still slightly blurred, but far better. She could feel where the tracks of her tears had dissolved the flakes and were streaking down her cheeks, leaving a mild stinging sensation even in solution. But her left eye was still useless, barely able to discern light from dark. Its view was simply a murky black. She could feel the microscopic specks of fire flaring against her cornea. She could only hope any damage would not be permanent. But the way this struggle was going, 'permanent' wouldn’t be a long time either.
She closed her eyes, wincing at the pain and almost terrified that the blackness that engulfed her wouldn’t lift when she opened them again. But there was some slight visibility in her right eye still, as she tried to view the world and failed. But the realisation hit her like a hammer that she was now half blind. She tearfully swallowed back her fear as the Doctor struck her again, just a vague shape that appeared alongside her. Each devastating blow left her weaker than before, the closeness of the glove stealing her energy, her resolve, her life force. ‘No , dammit! Not like this!’ she chastised herself inwardly. She would not allow herself to fall, to be taken down like this, crying, helpless and alone. There had to be a way out. There always was. But it may not be the way you wish to go. It was just a question of being strong enough to choose that path. It may take various forms; it might mean her death or the end of those she may care about, but never the less, there was always a solution if you had the courage to take it. But as she sat, weakened and exhausted, blinded and beaten, she had to admit to herself that, both figuratively and literally, she could not see a way out of this. But there was another fear that gripped her, not just the thought of failure, of letting millions of people die; it was a natural, personal fear of what the blindness would bring for her, even if she did triumph, if it were indeed permanent, perhaps even losing the little contrast in her right eye that she still now had– what new pain, what new terrors would her life hold in store for her? A life of blackness for one who had gazed upon the wonders of the universe , first hand?
Just like any young girl, injured, helpless, and far from home, she was afraid of the dark.
Last edited by tallyho9 years ago, edited 3 times in total.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
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Wow! This is one powerful story!! Poor Supergirl is really getting her butt handed to her. I can't wait to see how this ends. Also, I like how the SEALS are starting to kick some a**! I'm hoping that Wilson will catch a stray bullet lol
Well this is the end, thanks to all who have stopped by and taken time to read it. Whether you did or didn't like it please leave a comment at the end
PART 11
“Sir, movement, Sir! I think it’s ‘Trident 1’” Clarke pointed at the viewer. For long moments nothing happened, then they all saw it “THERE!” Clarke cried as an arm rose slowly up the wall. They were watching Kaplan’s camera, and Porucco’s boot was still visible where he had fallen, so it could only be Jones who slowly staggered upright, clinging to the wall as he rose. His camera was smashed but his mike still worked.
“Er…c-contro…I-I mean Pear…Pear Tree…er…this is…is Trident…teams down, b-been sho…I’m …my head…” he mumbled in a low tone, obviously in trouble.
“’Trident 1’ this is ‘Pear Tree’! Jones, JONESY! You’re concussed! Stay put we’ll get men to you-“
“Got orders, sir, gotta shoot somebody, wi…this gun. I got the gun sir. I’m ok sir, I’m feeling better.”
“Jones we ain’t got visual, stay put son, we’ll come to you!” Hudson turned to Clarke “Get Coopers guys in there!”
“We ain’t briefed them on the belt and the Doc, sir! We can’t send them in blind, they’ll end up like ‘Trident’.” Partridge said.
“Shit, make it quick!” He turned back to address Jones, but the young marine was obviously feeling better, his voice stronger and more coherent. Only his lower legs were now visible on Kaplan’s camera.
“’Pear Tree’ this is ‘Trident 1’, I can hear screams - I can’t wait, I’m going in…”
“Jonesy!” Hudson cried ineffectually. He wasn’t ready for Wilson when his play came.
On the dedicated line he had to Jones, Wilson suddenly issued orders. “Jones, this is Wilson! Special order in effect, Secondary target is now PRIMARY, repeat SHOOT AT NEW PRIMARY, disregard all further comms!”
“Why you dirty bastard!” Hudson cried as he hauled Wilson from the mike.
“’Trident 1’! JONES! IGNORE WILSON! IGNORE SPECIAL ORDERS!” Partridge cried.
“I …need the rescind code ….sir…Jones out.”
“SHIT! You goddamned low life! What will having him shooting her prove? What will it gain you, except maybe killing a young girl?!” Hudson bellowed at Wilson. He had Wilson pinned against the wall by his lapels.
“Sir!” Clarke called “Its Admiral Carver sir, straight from the Shape. He sounds pretty pissed, sir”
“Oh shit.” Hudson looked to the heavens. “Tell me we cut the live feeds to the Pentagon……? “ he asked Partridge optimistically. The young black officer shook his head as he grimaced.
Wilson was beaming in triumph. “You and your whole outfit are finished! You’ll be lucky to man the Admiral’s barge after this fuck up tonight…”
Clarke was listening intently before he addressed Hudson “Sir, YES SIR!” he turned to Hudson “ Admiral Carver, sir, sends his compliments, and he says ‘if that’s the piece of shit that withdrew med support from his injured men then try not to leave any visible marks. Please.’ Oh and he suggested you might let the Mayor’s wife take a swing , as she’s got the most vicious knee he’s ever seen….”
Hudson looked at Wilson with absolute contempt. “Much as I’d like to, here and now, we gotta stop Jonesy”
“He ain’t answering Sir”, Partridge called,” I been trying him.”
“You assholes don’t understand the significance, we have to get the belt. Supergirl’s just the sort of do-gooder moral bitch who’d destroy it rather than give it back. Claim mankind isn’t ready for it or some shit. You’ve seen what it can do! That thing can end wars! It can turn one man into an army! “ Wilson contended.
“It can also start wars too. Assassinations, planting bombs undetected, the applications are endless. And all lethal. That’s what you don’t get about the military. It’s not about killing. It’s about stopping the killing. Bottom line, I don’t wanna be obsolete.” Hudson said.
“YOU GOTTA UNDERSTAND ! If I don’t get that belt back my ass is grass!” Wilson cried. “That’s what Jones is doing, that’s all, its for all our sakes….”
“Jesus…you believe your own lies now?” Hudson asked incredulously.
Somehow, when she was hovering in the sunshine, she hadn’t envisioned the battle going like this. No getting away from it, this wasn’t going well. In fact she had barely laid a glove on her opponent. Kara knew she couldn’t stay in the centre of the room. In that spot, Willoughby could hit her from any direction, and was. Almost blinded, her super vision was useless to her now. She couldn’t hope to focus the beams accurately enough with one eye blinded and the other hopelessly blurred. She needed to land a blow , just one that would incapacitate the Doctor. She couldn’t grapple with her, not so long as the Doctor had the glove, and she couldn’t remove the glove as she daren’t touch it. Yet with the Doctor forever popping in and out of phase she could never be certain where she would appear next. She needed to create an environment where she could do just that. She needed to choose a spot, to set a trap, to draw the doctor in to one precise spot, where she knew she would be there long enough to land a blow. And as the Doctor taunted her, giving them both a brief respite, the answer came to her.
“Look at you…’the Maid of Might’…what a joke…’the Maid of Might-Die-Cowering-on-the-floor ‘ is more like it.” She suddenly winced in pain herself, holding her palm to her forehead as the headache from using the belt grew worse.
That, Kara realised, was the answer. She wasn’t going to die cowering on the floor, but she was going to cower in the corner instead.
“I had only seconds to get rid of the missile….”she said tearfully while she tried to crawl away as the Doctor landed a new barrage of blows to her back, her kidneys, less effective kicks to her ass and thighs and the odd blow to her head, knocking her flat. All of the strikes came from a different quarter as she appeared and disappeared all around the fallen hero. Some were conventional blows and kicks yet even they, in her injured state, hurt her more than they should have. The journey of just a few feet seemed endless to Kara, a desperate ordeal of pain that she was forced to endure. She realised that this was what the Doctor wanted, to see her broken, to see her crawling before her, beaten and defeated at the feet of Helen Willoughby . The Doctor materialised away from her again, licking her own wounds as the nosebleed worsened. During the brief lull, Supergirl slid on her injured left thigh the final few feet across the room, to rest in the corner diagonally away from the Doctor. Her back pressed into the walls, breathing heavily as she slumped onto her ass, her legs folded under her, gazing forlornly at her Nemesis. The table and chairs had already been smashed to matchwood earlier in the struggle and apart from them, the room was empty. Nothing stood between her and the demented scientist. As she crawled, she had thought of all she had lost…her home…her family…her race. And now, perhaps she would fail and die here, alone in this room, with a deranged wife blaming her wrongly for something she could never have averted. The tears flowed freely, just as she intended they should and she made no effort to control or stop them. Great heaving sobs of despair wracked her body as a lifetime of loneliness and isolation poured from her. Just as she wanted them to. For these tears served their purpose, washing away the terrible specks in her eyes. Not completely, but her right eye was almost back to normal whilst her left, though still unusable, was at least relieved a little, in terms of the pain. But though nearly back in one eye, her vision was still not usable as an offensive weapon.
Yet she knew her position was not right, as even here in the corner she was too exposed. The Doctor could hit her from anywhere, either side, on almost any part of her except her back. It was this next move that she was frightened of taking. The pain, each time the glove struck her, was getting worse as her body weakened. It was difficult to knowingly expose yourself to more of that agony by choice, deliberately. But this was what she must do. With a struggle, she drew her legs up beneath her as she moved onto all fours, then crouched, her left knee upright, kneeling on her right, enduring the odd blow that the Doctor landed as she appeared around her. Willoughby then appeared well away from her, her nose bleeding profusely. This was the moment Supergirl needed. She hugged her up-turned knee with her left arm, her right braced on the floor, her body diagonally across the corner of the room, her head bowed, the right hand side of her body now protected by the two walls, her left side and her back exposed, as her torso still shook with the sobs of her despair. This was just what the Doctor ordered she thought to herself, and this was her trap. Now she just had to draw the Doctor into it. And she knew the right buttons to push.
“I-I’m sure Richard would be very proud of you…” she whispered dejectedly, just loud enough for the Doctor to hear, keeping her eyes low but raising her head slightly to show just a glimpse of a weak smile. As she spoke, she subtly swapped hands, her left now bracing her body upright, whilst her right hugged her knee, before slowly sliding back behind her body where it clenched, despite the pain from her palm, out of sight of the Doctor. When Willoughby was rational, her attacks were not direct. There was no guarantee that at any time she would head straight to Kara from the point where she was currently visible. As such, her reactions were completely unpredictable, as she could literally appear on any side of her victim at any time. But all through this conflict Kara’s Kryptonian mind had been working tirelessly. Calculating distances, the time spent in the quantum bubble before the Doctor reappeared and therefore her speed within it. It was in microseconds but she was more than capable of doing the maths. But anger now would force the Doctor into a mistake. Angry people didn’t dally, didn’t detour. Their rage needed an outlet and it needed it sooner, rather than later. When Kara mentioned her husband, that was the trigger. She knew that Willoughby would come straight for her and she did. The smile that Kara had flashed was like a rag to a bull, as it was intended. The Doctor would want to wipe that smile off her face and with the glove she had the means to do it. And that gave the Girl of Steel the advantage she had been lacking – she now knew where the blow would fall. Supergirl had watched her carefully, while she could still see. She was 5ft 7” and right handed, and like all good martial artists was light on her feet, her weight on the ball of her foot and her toes, elevating her slightly as her heels were barely on the ground. Supergirl had also noticed that there was the merest shimmer in reality the nanosecond before the bubble dissolved and the Doctor appeared. With the way Supergirl was crouched, in order to punch her in the face Willoughby would need to appear just behind Supergirl’s left shoulder. But she was aware that the Doctor was a master at anticipating her moves, at reading her body language; probably as the glove slowed Kara’s movements whilst the Doctor was slipping in and out of phase. So Supergirl never moved, never raised her head, never made eye contact even though she was blind in that left eye. It was important that her chin was static, there for the Doctor to hit, so Willoughby would need to be in that precise place, just where Supergirl intended her to be. Instead she just looked passed her left elbow waiting for the shimmer, counting in her head the microseconds that it would take the Doctor to cover that distance. To an observer, it was instantaneous. To a Kryptonian, it would be 0.6 nanoseconds after she disappeared. Her superior sense of smell could home in on the blood from Willoughby’s nose, sensing her as she re-appeared. But above all, she would be listening, using her superior hearing to detect the sub-sonic pop as the bubble dissolved and the crazed Doctor appeared a micro instant before she would strike.
“Why, you arrogant BITCH!” the Doctor cried as she again disappeared.
Supergirl was crouched low, which would force the Doctor to bend slightly. Which if she had done her sums correctly, ought to put the Doctor’s chin … right… about…here. She caught the vaguest ripple in the air and started her swing as a micro second later the Doctor appeared just in time to catch the full force of Supergirl’s blow, as the Girl of Steel rose and spun her arm, swinging up first into empty air but then finally connecting with the Doctor as she appeared fully, putting every last ounce of energy into her superspeed. Her calculations were slightly off, as her knuckle brushed first against Willoughby’s throat but the momentum took her fist naturally upward, sliding swiftly on to connect with the Doctor’s chin with a reassuring ‘clack’ a partial nanosecond later, that lifted her off her feet to collapse unconscious in a heap on the floor. Literally, the Doctor never knew what hit her. Her eyes had already glazed and rolled into her sockets before she hit the deck and her nose bled freely.
The pain in Kara’s hand was almost unbearable as the splinter screamed in her palm, a stabbing pain that coupled with her wounds and the proximity of the glove rendered her feeling weak and sick. She too, collapsed back into the corner, sliding back down in exhaustion. She stared at the body of the Doctor as she lay out cold. The glove, still on her right hand, lay across the body, trapping Supergirl in the corner of the room. Not good. She felt as if she were actually going to vomit as she felt the bile rise in her throat. She was relieved when the door opened cautiously and a young Navy Seal wobbled into view leaning heavily and unsteadily against the door jam. She looked at him with gratitude and relief which rapidly turned to confusion and fear as she saw Jones raise the dart gun to point it shakily in her direction.
“I have—I have a target ‘Pear…Tree’.” He panted as he steadied himself against the door way, he blinked profusely as blood from a head wound trickled down into his eyes. He wiped them on his wrist holding the stock of his assault weapon.
“Wait…I’m…I’m on your side!” she said incredulously as she could detect the Kryptonite dart in the barrel. With her injuries, the blows, the shards still in her body, the specks still in her eye, and the proximity of the glove she wasn’t sure she could take anymore. One more hit and she might be finished.
“NO!” she begged as she saw his gaze harden. “No, please, why? She’s who you are after…” she pleaded piteously, gesturing at Willoughby.
In the control room Hudson and the team could hear the conversation through Jones’ mike but had no visuals.
“JONESY! Is it Supergirl or the Doc, JONES?” Hudson shouted down the mike. “FOR GOD’S SAKE MAN DON’T SHOOT , WE’VE GOT COOPER ON THE WAY. HE’S SECONDS OUT!”
“Got….Got the new primary….God, she’s beautiful…but she’s hurt real bad…Doc is down…maybe dead.”
“JONES! FOR CHRIST SAKES, STAND DOWN! ITS OVER! COOPER IS ALMOST THERE! DON’T SHOOT! DON’T TAKE THE SHOT, YOU’LL HAVE TO LIVE WITH IT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE! FOR GOD’S SAKE STOP!”
“Rescind …code…over?”
“JONES, I DON’T KNOW IT! FORGET THE DAMN CODE! STAND DOWN, REPEAT STAND DOWN!”
“I have a shot…”his breathing was heavy, but he seemed to rally. “’Pear Tree’ , I have a shot. I have executive orders to shoot at new primary target. And I’m gonna…”
Supergirl stared at the young man in despair. The gun was pointed in her general direction but she couldn’t determine the trajectory in her weakened state. She had no reserves left, as despondency and exhaustion caught up with her. She simply met his gaze and shook her head slightly, almost imperceptibly.
Jones looked at her coolly. “Sorry Ma’am. But I got orders to shoot from Mr Wilson.” He winked at her as he pulled the trigger.
In the control room, they all heard the “PHHHFFFFTTTTT!” noise as the dart gun was fired as Hudson bellowed down the mike.
“JONES! NO!!!!”
The room fell into silence as they all listened for the confirmation. None came.
Wilson grabbed the mike. “JONES! JONES! IS SHE DOWN? DID IT KILL HER OR IS SHE JUST UNCONSCIOUS? JONES?!!”
Finally Jones answered. “Er, neither sir. I missed.” Unknown to Wilson he was grinning broadly as he removed the gauntlet from the prone woman, in response to Supergirl’s desperate gestures, moving it away from Kara so he could then help her up , to her obvious relief.
“Good ol’ Jonesy!” declared Hudson, as Wilson shook with rage.
“You missed her with all 4 Kryptonic shots?!!” Wilson cried incredulously.
“Oh, no wait a second.” Jones’ voice came back on. There was a stream of rapid “PHHHFFFT” shots.
“There, now I missed her with all the shots, over” he informed Wilson.
“You god-damned maniacs!” Wilson’s face was bright red. He spun around, fumbling with his cell phone. “I’ve got to get that chopper in there! You’re bluffing! We both know your man won’t open up on that Sikorsky-“
Hudson cut him short with a laugh “That’s ‘PANDA’ Hernandez on that 50 Cal!!!! Clarkie, tell Mr Wilson why we call him ‘Panda’.”
“Every Monday after a weekend furlough he always comes back with two black eyes. That kid loves to fight, anybody and anything…” Clarke said with a grin.
With impeccable timing the radio crackled once more.
“’Pear Tree’ from ‘Kite 1’, er, Hernandez wants to know if he can open fire anyway, the chopper ain’t taking off but he says the pilot is, and I quote, ‘looking at me in a funny way, like he wants to try something’, over”.
“Oh, Christ! Negative, ‘Kite 1’, take no action unless they move, ‘Pear Tree’ over and out” Hudson turned to Wilson. “You still think he won’t take a pop at them?”
Edwards, sitting right next to him, started to sing softly, an old Genesis number, all the while staring at him, coldly.
“Oh Supergirl, where are you now?
When everything’s gone wrong somehow-“ he looked purposefully at Wilson as he changed the lyrics deliberately-
“The men of influence, the men of power…” he stopped and straightened in his chair as he smiled
“They’re losing control by the hour.” the young technician grinned broadly at Wilson’s raging anger.
“YOU ARE ALL FUCKING FINISHED!” Wilson cried.
Kara made a fist by her cheek to indicate Jones should cover his mike. He did so with a fist of his own.
“Sorry ‘bout that Ma’am. I had to point in your direction, I didn’t know how much of me was on the guys cameras in the corridor. What can I do for you?” he asked.
“I thought you were concussed? Are you okay? Can you put that glove away, it’s a poison for me…”she said weakly.
“Sure thing. I kinda guessed that was why the bitch had it,” He took out the waterproof Ziploc bag that he had used to house his gun and comms equipment as he swam to the ship. Though not perfect, it helped for the glove to be out of direct sight of her and she felt a little better straight away, then better still when he placed it in the hallway behind the steel wall, checking on the two men collapsed in the corridor. Both were just drugged. “I figured if I was gonna disobey a direct order from some guy from the Shape – er, the Pentagon Ma’am – “he explained the phrase seeing her frown, “being concussed was a damn good excuse to avoid a courts martial!” he smiled as he re-entered the room.
Jones was putting plastic ties around the Doctor’s hands and feet as Kara retrieved the belt.
“There’s a man aboard…downstairs…” she began.
“Oh, don’t worry, Kaplan dropped him as he came up the stairwell. We nabbed the other guy on the bridge. Was it just the two, Ma’am? Ma’am?” Jones queried as she went white with shock. Genuine tears of emotion welled up in her as she realised he meant Jarvis was dead.
“WHERE?!” she cried as Jones dumbfounded just pointed at the corridor.
“J-just down the hall, in the stair recess…”
“Oh NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!!!!!!!!!” she cried as she ran out at a human pace still recovering from her exhaustion, feeling the draw of the glove as she quickly stepped passed it, wincing at the surge of pain and weakness it again invoked in her as she went within a few inches of it, only screened by the thin material.
She saw his slumped body then, as she emerged into the corridor. He was lying on his back, an arm up in the air at the elbow. As she rushed to his side he moved weakly, trying to raise his head to look at her. Her tears streamed down her cheeks even though she barely knew him. Friends were rare in her life.
“H-hello , Miss. Don’t cry now, I-I’m alright…” he said weakly with a faint crooked smile. He was breathless, his voice barely a whisper.
“Oh, you stupid, STUPID MAN! Why didn’t you listen to me? Why did you come up here?” she wailed in despair at him.
“Easy, now Miss. I’ll be alright. Just need to catch my breath is all…. Came up here to help you, Miss, …just….”he swallowed, drawing in a deep breath “just in case she had more of them bullets or Wheeler had his bit of the green stuff…Don’t cry now…I’m ok…”
Tearfully, her eyes stinging and red-rimmed and not just from the flecks in them, she dropped her gaze to the nine holes at his chest and though scanning him hurt her eyes, she switched to her X-ray vision to see his internal injuries as best she could. And found she couldn’t. Because he had an inch and a half of lead plate across his torso with nine bullets in it. The bullet holes were only in his shirt.
“WHAT THE-? YOU’RE NOT SHOT!” she shouted at him in bewildered relief.
“I know, I been saying to you, I’m ok. Clint fan, remember?” He rapped his knuckles on the plate. “ ‘Few Dollars More’. ‘cept he had steel. That’s why I went for a thicker one in lead but it weighs a ton. Them bullets really took the wind out of me. Feel like I been grapplin’ Stone Cold, an’ lost.” He said referring to the wrestler. He was still breathing heavily.
She punched him on the shoulder. “You idiot! You scared the hell out of me!” she frowned and pursed her lips, hitting him again slightly harder than she had intended. She was genuinely annoyed with him for scaring her, albeit briefly.
“OWWWW! I’M SORRY Miss!” he rubbed his arm. “Could you help me up?” he pushed the plate aside. “Please?”
Coopers men approached, weapons drawn, from both directions.
She turned, holding out her hand to indicate they should stop. “WAIT. Back up. He’s with me. There’s radioactive material in there –“ she gestured at the room and the bag with the glove. “Secure the perimeter. I need this man’s help” she indicated Jarvis. She saw Jones suddenly look scared. “Don’t worry, you haven’t been endangered,” she reassured him. “Tell Mr Wilson, I have his device.”
After checking with Hudson, the SEALs did as she asked, carefully hauling away the body of the still unconscious Doctor. Kara went down to the little sink in Jarvis’ room, ran some water and dunked her head in, swilling away the remaining flakes in her eyes. Her head became a blur suddenly as she swung it from side to side at three dozen times a second. One of the perks of being Supergirl, was that you never needed a hairdryer. She used his tweezers to remove the shards finally from her palm and upper thigh. The one in her shoulder was no quick job; she decided to remove that later under more controlled conditions.
She then gargled and drank, washing the micro dust particles that she had inhaled from her throat, deliberately retching and coughing to dislodge any that were in her lungs. With Jarvis’ help she moved the glove and the splinters she had just removed into the locker with the other shards and then sealed the lead with her heat vision. Finally she was feeling almost herself, apart from her shoulder wound, which still twinged, irritably.
She retrieved the box for the belt from the bed, with a few other items she needed, then turned her attention to the bomb. Heading for the light where ‘Leonard’ and ‘Sheldon’ had reached an impasse, she left Jarvis with the locker.
The one named ‘Sheldon’ addressed her about the situation.
“We can’t get into the light mechanism, either through the glass, or the door. There are pressure and temperature traps. Whoever did this really didn’t want it to be stopped. It’s like 9 little bombs, all doing different jobs, all interconnected to the bigger one. It’s crude but well done. Once they closed that glass door on the light, it was all set. I just can’t see a way in. We-“
Suddenly, a previously blackened led screen inside the light sprang into life, displaying the strange sequence of 13.0.0.0.0.0 that rapidly started to wind down at a frightening rate.
“SHIT!” ‘Leonard’ cried. “’PEAR TREE’ BOMB IS ACTIVE, IMMEDIATE EVAC ALL PERSONNEL, REPEAT BOMB IS ACTIVE, OVER!” Speaking into the built in mike of his blast armour.
“COPY!”
Almost immediately the boats and helicopters started to descend on the Light Vessel Compass Rose with renewed urgency.
‘Sheldon’ looked at her coolly from behind his blast visor, his face illuminated by their own free standing lights but washed out to white every so often when the light revolved. “You too, Ma’am. You’d better go. I ain’t seen a countdown timer like this. It ain’t even counting down sequentially its jumping numbers.”
“That’s because it’s not a decimal system, its calendar orientated, and its a Mayan calendar at that. It’s jumping in prime numbers down from 144,000. What about you? Aren’t you leaving? “ Kara asked.
“This is what we do. “ He shrugged. “It seems to be armed now. We’ll wait as long as we can, give people time to get off…then we’ll …give it a try…” he said simply with a shrug. “We ain’t suicidal Ma’am. If we can’t do anything , we’ll head off with the others. But we gotta take a look-see first, that’s our job.”
“Don’t need two of us , Phil.” His partner said pointedly.
“Yeah, but I’m all dressed up an’ nowhere to go!” Phil smiled behind the toughened plastic as he patted his armoured suit.
Supergirl was deeply impressed by their nonchalant bravery. But fortunately for all, she had a solution. “I need a screw driver, smallest you got, and a small forceps. You can both go, I got this. My friend Robert is downstairs, make sure he gets off.“
“Whoa! We can’t leave you, Ma’am!” one of them said.
“There’s no danger, I got this” she tried to reassure them. That wasn’t totally true, but she felt confident. She was 99% sure she could do it. Well ok, 98%.
“If there is no danger than we can stay.” One of them pointed out.
“Fine. You hold this –“ she gave him the belt “You –“ she turned to the other officer, get my friend in a boat then come back if you want, just don’t take long. Oh, and make sure he’s well treated, he’s helped save us all”.
“What you got in mind?” Phil asked her.
“It started the countdown at midnight… that means today is the 21st, right? This will go off around 11 am, Eastern . We got loadsa time” She smiled. Over the next twenty minutes she dismantled part of the belt, paying particular attention to the projector array in the buckle. With a tweak here and there and hooking it up to the battery power supply in the stand-alone lights of the bomb squad, she was ready. Phil’s only role had been to hold the belt while she worked. To his credit, ‘Leonard’ too returned to help. All the while she worked she was understanding more of what each of the components did. It was genuinely impressive. Finally, she was done. She addressed them both.
“Ok, here’s the deal. I’ll heat this little doozy up, you guys direct it on that little box of tricks , just ….there” she pointed at it through the glass.
“But we don’t know what that steel box houses…” Phil protested.
“Luckily for us all, I do.” She smiled. 100% sure of herself now.
With her vision and the batteries acting as a power source she used her homemade device and the bubble projector array to produce a brief, short range Electro Magnetic Pulse that fried the main electronic components of the Doctor’s bomb. With that dead, the rest could be defused at leisure.
Finally safe, she left the disposal experts to finish up as she flew with a belt in the belt shaped box to return it to Wilson.
As she located the Harbour Master’s office as the control room and landed outside, she saw an ambulance on the quayside take the Doctor away. She was still out, now in a straight jacket and as part of an armed convoy of two black Humvees with Wilson’s men in them. Wheeler was in cuffs on the back seat of one of the vehicles. Inside the building though, she could see with her X-ray vision that Wilson was still around and grilling Jarvis.
She walked in declaring “He’s with me” imperiously, putting a reassuring hand on the shoulder of Jarvis as he sat, looking rather frightened.
Hudson rushed over to her.
“Thank God, Ma’am! I just want you to know, that business…it wasn’t my doing.” He looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. She knew he was telling the truth and more importantly she recognised that voice as the one in Jones’ ear, ordering him to stop. She followed his gaze to Wilson, and knew she had found the true instigator. She nodded simply to Hudson. Then she turned away, facing Wilson.
“Oh, one sec, I said I’d let the Mayor and his wife know you were ok. “Hudson said. He proceeded to make contact via Eddy’s mike and earpiece.
“Mr Mayor, Mrs Reynolds, I am delighted to confirm that we have a very alive young lady standing with us right now! Oh, and Mr Mayor? I just wanted to point out it’s the ROTATION of the Earth our snipers have to allow for on long shots, not the curvature.”
“Are you sure?” asked Reynolds.
“Er..yeah,sir…it’s what we do. Got a lot of dead insurgents who are testimony to it.” Hudson said.
“A good point, well made, son. Could you just pass on our best wishes to our girl and Eddy is really sorry about Mr Fellini…”
“Er…what? What happened to Fellini?” Hudson asked, confused, looking at Partridge and Clarke who both shrugged, equally bewildered. A click brought up his enlarged head camera view- it appeared to be a view of his knees with his hands clutching his groin.
“We wanted to try and stop Mr Jones shooting at our young friend, and when we refused to move, he told Eddy to …er, ‘haul her big old ass’ down to the boat and she over reacted. She feels terrible about it…” Reynolds said.
“Yes, I do” Eddy said. “Really bad”.
“Told ya she was better than Fellini…” said Clarke with a grin.”Guess he learned the two rules every guy should know…”
Supergirl acknowledged the couple and thanked them for their support and especially in offering to trade themselves for her, promising to call into see them in the morning. Then with a steely look, she cast her gaze on Wilson.
She strode over towards him, hands on hips, one holding the box. Wilson paled visibly and backed away. She held out the relocked belt shaped box to him.
“You wanted this?” she offered it up , ungrudgingly. “Here, take it. I never want to see it again.”
He took the box off of her, slightly bewildered. Edwards had his eyes glued to the stunningly attractive blonde as he sipped from a cup of coffee.
Kara stood before Wilson, and slowly looked him over.
“You’re lucky we are friends Mr Wilson, not enemies. Because if I was you’re enemy, I wouldn’t bother to tell you that in your small intestine, there is…well. Let’s just say, you need to see a Doctor in the next week. It’s too small for them to pick up at the moment but at the rate it’s grown inside you since I met you in the Mayor’s office…well the sooner the better. If they can’t spot it, book yourself in anyway, it isn’t established yet, if you get a full colonic irrigation that should move it, then make sure you get a barium meal, so they can trace your digestive tract. If they don’t find it, then you know you are in the clear. Now, if I wasn't your friend Mr Wilson, I would never have warned you about that….”
Wilson had paled , visibly. He clutched at his lower stomach subconsciously, his mouth suddenly dry. He looked her in the eye as she stared at him evenly. A long moment passed. He nodded finally, reluctantly.
“The belt - it’s in here?” He asked, holding up the box.
“It is. I’m not telling you the combination, in case you decide to try it on now. It’s caused enough trouble for one night. Your boffins can work it out. She was very, very clever…” she flashed Jarvis the briefest of knowing glances “she disguised it as just an ordinary belt.” Jarvis hid his smile as now he subconsciously clutched his own stomach where Kara had stitched up his pants. Secretly Supergirl smiled herself. “Oh, and I want a full pardon for Mr Jarvis here.”
Wilson turned away and headed for the door. “ Very well. I’ll clear it. This changes nothing between you and me” he said to Hudson. “I’m calling the Pentagon, let them know we got the belt” he stepped outside briefly using his cell phone. “I’ll speak to Carver about the deplorable actions of you and your men in the morning…” he called back in. “And I’ll show him the tapes. It’ll be his ass on the line too, so make no mistake, he’ll give you up.” He closed the door behind himself.
Hudson sighed. He saw Supergirl raise a questioning eyebrow “Not your fight.” He said wearily.
“It could be mine if you wanted…” she offered, raising an elegant eyebrow in query, but Hudson shook his head. He was a man who fought his own battles.
“After the way he’s behaved towards you, I’m impressed you bothered to tell him about the cancer…” he said.
Supergirl frowned, folding her arms as she stood facing straight ahead and then turned slightly to look at Hudson. She raised both eyebrows, blew out her cheeks and then frowned quizzically at him.
“Cancer? He hasn’t got any cancer….” She said with a straight face.
“Oh, but I thought, with the barium enema and the colonic- oh. Oh, I see.” Hudson broke into a smile that she mirrored. He bit down on his bottom lip, suppressing his laughter.
Edwards had no such control, spraying his coffee all over his equipment.
Clarke piped up “Great! When they look up there they might find his head!”
Wilson stepped back into the office, popping his cell into his inside jacket pocket, looking around to find everyone grinning at him like maniacs.
He frowned as he looked from face to face, then shook his head. “ Well, at least the matter has been successfully concluded. I can’t overlook the disobedience of your men in this business, Captain Hudson. I’ll take it up with the Navy in the morning.” Hudson said nothing.
“What’ll happen to the Doc?” Jarvis asked.
Wilson stared at him a moment, then shrugged and decided to speak anyway. “She’ll get the best of care until she is back on her feet…”
“You mean back working for you…” Hudson said with disgust.
“Perhaps. Still, thanks to our very attractive alien friend there, it’s all come good. We got her, we got the device. Oh and the bomb is safe of course. As for you and your men, Captain Hudson…I suspect we won’t see each other again. I’m gonna bury you when I speak to Carver tomorrow.” He said maliciously.
“Excuse me a moment…” Kara was unsure what this was all about, but she was confident that in the morning, Wilson would have enough problems of his own to deal with. She stepped out of the office and with lightning speed flew to the lightship, retrieved the lead sheathed locker and rocketed up into the atmosphere. When she had just crested the outer stratosphere she hurled the locker towards the sun. It would take several years to get there at that speed, but it wasn’t as if anyone was going to intercept it. She might pop back up in a day or two and speed it on its way, she decided. But for now, it would do. She returned to the Harbour Master’s office.
While she was gone a minor situation had developed…
“Partridge. Those vid copies…” Wilson held out his hand.
“It’s Lieutenant Partridge , Sir.” Partridge corrected him for the dozenth time that evening as he handed over the disks.
“Like I give a fuck. You’re career is over, mister. I don’t give a damn what your rank or what uniform you are wearing.” Wilson said.
Partridge stood toe to toe with him “Any time, Sir. You wanna do the man dance? Let’s just step outside now…”
“Yeah, like I’d brawl in the street with a dumb ni-“ Wilson never got any further as Partridge flew at him, but as they grappled briefly, this time Wilson was ready, felling Partridge with a gut punch just as Hudson and Clarke had grabbed him to pull him off.
“Dumb ass” Wilson said as he readjusted his suit, whilst Partridge was clutching his stomach as he sat on the floor. “You’re all fucking finished…all of you…” Wilson said casting his gaze around the comms room.
“What the hell did I do?” said Tom Lewis.
As Wilson left, Hudson helped Partridge up.
“He really is gonna nail us, aint he?” Partridge asked Hudson.
Hudson just nodded sadly. “ ’Fraid so. You did punch him on the nose. I threatened to shoot his team and in general we all got in the way of his little op. I’ll go to bat for the other guys on the team, but folks like Wilson make their own rules. Think he’s gunning for me and you but he’ll probably hit us all. You’re getting slow John, letting yourself get taken down by a sucker punch like that.”
“He said I should ‘go back to picking cotton’, -ain’t no cotton in Detroit” Partridge smiled. “Now, if he’d said ‘go back to picking pockets’…now that woulda been fair enough…” He brought up the hand that was clutching his stomach and waved Wilson’s cellphone between his fingers with a huge grin on his face. “I think I still got it Cap.”
“Would that be what I think it is?” Captain Hudson asked innocently. “That’s theft Partridge.”
“Mr Wilson musta dropped it. Our lucky day I guess. Probably all sorts of dark deeds he’d wanna keep quiet on here…” Partridge grinned.” It’s only theft if I keep it. I am handing it over to my c.o. for him to try and trace the owner of this piece of equipment.”
“True. Edwards, Clarke. See what you can get off this. Maybe we can identify the unfortunate man who has lost it. In about 12 hours. That's what you got, GO!” He turned to Partridge as the technical staff took the cell phone. “But he has still got all those vids… He’s got proof we were prepared to disobey his orders. And did so. And you hit him.” Hudson’s elation was short lived.
“Six copies of Edwards’ ‘Genesis’ album? Don’t think that’ll sway anyone.” Clarke said with a grin.
Epilogue
A little while later, Supergirl stood outside with Jarvis. She had her back to him and was looking up at the clear, full moon that was emerging from clouds. He spoke to her in a hesitant but respectful way, as if in awe of her. Which indeed he was.
“Tough day for you I bet, Miss” he said awkwardly.
She turned, closing one eye to the moon’s brightness, though in truth she didn’t really need to.
“You could say that” she replied, smiling at him.
“I just wanted to say a few words before they haul me off to jail…”he said hesitantly.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll fix that even if Wilson doesn’t. You saved me, helped save the city, helped to stop the bomb.You were just a pawn . You thought you were doing the right thing for the government. Don’t worry.” She reassured him.
“But…there’s still the fight in the alley , the robberies…” he said quietly.
“I think it’s safe to say the fight was self defence. The robberies…? Well, again, I think we can turn a blind eye to them. I got friends in high places…” she smiled.
“You mean…like the governor or something ?” Jarvis asked.
She sighed in mock exasperation “No, I mean I know the janitor who cleans the gift shop of the Empire State Building! Of course I mean the governor, the Mayor, the police chief, silly.” She huffed at him and he looked suitably abashed. “They all owe me favours, and we all collectively owe you a great debt. We’ll put you on some kinda parole, make sure you don’t go back to your old ways. But the fact you seem so keen to do time for it, tells me you’ve reformed. If you want to atone for the robberies, I suggest you reimburse the victims, maybe make it up to them somehow. C’mon.” She stepped smartly forward, putting her feet together, perkily bobbing up and down slightly. She held out her hand, palm spread towards him, waggling her fingers and inviting him to grasp it. “You got a flight to catch…”
“I can’t fly miss! I got no passport nor id nor nothing. And where too?”
“Thought I’d take you home to Nantucket. And if you’re flying Supergirl Airways, you don’t need id for an internal flight… I never said anything about you catching a plane.” She beamed at him.
“I can’t go home, Miss. It’s the middle of the night! I don’t know where my daughter lives now, she could be anywhere…”
“I’ll drop you off at an all-night motel somewhere, pick you up in the morning. It’s nearly Christmas , what girl wouldn’t want to see her daddy at Christmas time? We’ll find her. I’ll square things with her. Tell her how you helped save me. “ She smiled that dazzling smile of hers again.
“She might be frightened…” he gestured hopelessly at his distorted grin. “She’s probably forgotten I looked this bad…”
“Only when you smile.” she tried to make light of his palsy. “She will see passed that…” she said with pity. She had scanned his face to see if there was anything she could do, but the damage to the nerve endings was too old and ran too deeply.
“Maybe …”he said unconvincingly. “Look , Miss, I got something I need to say to you…”
‘Oh dear’, she thought ‘Here it comes, the outpouring of undying love for her that men always seemed to be gushing in her presence…’ she sighed and grimaced. “Look we could never go on a date or anything….”
He just stared at her blankly. “Ye-es?” he said uncertainly. “I’m old enough to be your dad…”
“Oh, weren’t you gonna aske me out?” she said slightly bewildered.
“Hell no!” he said “You got that terrible ass!” his face cracked into that twisted grin of his.
“I wha-?“ she began, then laughed as she realised he was the one teasing her now.
“I was gonna say, Miss, you and me got a lot in common. I been on my own most of the last ten years. Well , no family anyways. I expect your life is…pretty lonesome too. Oh, I know everyone knows you and you’re popular and all. But that can be lonely too. People think loneliness is about being on your own, but it’s not, is it Miss? It’s about being with all your friends and family and people who care about you and still feeling like you are on your own, right? That cape must be pretty heavy on such young shoulders. All I was gonna say, Miss, is that if you ever need to just talk, you come find me, ok?”
“Thanks…”She felt genuinely touched “if ever I do, I will.” She smiled that flawless smile of hers at him again. He smiled his crooked grin back. Both of them knew that she never would.
“I might need some directions for Nantucket. Lot of islands up there from 30,000 feet. All kinda looks the same, especially in the dark. I’m ok until I get to Buenos Aires…” she tailed off.
“Oh but no Miss, no that’s the wro-“ he stopped and smiled as she grinned at him again. “Miss, when I’m with you…well…you just make me want to be better…a better man I mean, better than I am. Just to do the best I can to be a better person, Miss. Being near you…makes me want to be a better human being” he looked at her nervously and was relieved when she smiled gently back.
He smiled too. He decided to change the subject. “So how was the Doc gonna get away, Miss? What was her plan?”
“I don’t think she ever intended to. She just wanted to take me down. Whatever happened afterwards didn’t worry her.” He nodded conceding the point as likely. “Not so much 'suicide by cop' as suicide by SEAL.”
“Did you have to give him my belt? How did you know he wouldn’t recognise it?” he asked as he pulled up his pants slightly.
“Guys like Wilson are trouble shooters. Never hang around projects for the day to day stuff, just get called in when it goes wrong. When he briefed me, he used words like ‘think she made a kinda belt’ – if he had seen it , he’d just say ‘she made a belt’. Figured he wasn’t directly attached to the project so maybe he didn’t know exactly what it looked like. The resolution on those monitors was pretty lousy, figured he hadn’t had a good look at it because the Doctor moved so fast. So, I gave him a belt. Your belt. Sorry.” She pulled an apologetic face with a shrug. “There’s probably a lot at stake for him in this. No one wants a trouble shooter that misses. This could well see him kicked out.”
Jarvis had more pressing worries than Wilson’s career prospects.
“What if the stitch in my pants doesn’t hold up to the flight?” he asked nervously.
She frowned angrily keeping her head perfectly still as she narrowed her eyes, looking at him with a serious expression as she asked “Are you seriously questioning my needlework skills?”
“Oh , no I-“ he stopped –“you’re teasing me again!” he said with a smile. Blushing again. He was definitely Bashful, she decided.
She gazed up at the moon, its silver light shining in her sapphire blue eyes. Even its reflected glow of the Sun’s rays felt good to her after what she had been through tonight. The prospect of going blind had truly terrified her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. “C’mon buddy. Let’s get you home.”
“But what if my pants DO give out?” he said, still worried.
She sighed and looked back up at the full moon.
“Well, if that happens…” she paused as she kept her head still, staring straight ahead in thought staring up at the night sky as she bit her lip. “I guess there’ll be two moons over Nantucket tonight.” She turned her head to look at him, and her laughter was like the song of angels.
"Miss, I'm Kinda frightened..."
"That's ok, I'm kinda super" she winked. She smiled at him again, her wonderful shining smile, that was full of diamonds.
THE END.
p.s. to the Homeland security guy who is gonna have to read this because its hit so many key words,
I hope your name isn't Wilson! And if you liked it please leave a comment!
P.p.s. I just want to point out that I fucking hate Genesis and Phil Collins, but Lemmy and Motorhead hadn't done lyrics I could use.
Last edited by tallyho11 years ago, edited 2 times in total.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
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Wow Tallyho! You knocked out of the park with that chapter! The end of the fight was great, and I love how Supergirl was able to end it on her own, even after all she had been put through. Great ending of the story also. I hope the govt. guy loves it too :-D
Tally that is an amazing story. You did a great job combining all the personnalities and subplots! Most importantly you stayed true to 'your Supergirl' the whole way. Really enjoyed it, Thanks!
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