The headquarters of Argosy Energy, a fifty-story tribute to unimaginative architecture and faceless power, stood tall over the Portland skyline. With cold, grey metal sides and tinted windows, the tower projected all the warmth and humanity of the 2001 monolith. There were no flowers at the entrance, no color at the front doors. The only greetings visitors could expect were from the slight nods by the emotionless security guards, adorned in jackets that matched the building they protected. Looming one hundred feet over the next tallest structure in Oregon, Argosy almost seemed to challenge the Cascades that dotted the terrain, a manmade answer to Mount Hood. From the top floor of Argosy, visitors could see Mount St. Helens in the distance, dormant but with the threat of menace still in the air.
With worry outweighing the Amaretto in his gut, Theodore Pittman, the CEO/CFO of Argosy, sat in his overstuffed executive’s chair. The other seats at the executive table had been empty for hours, but he had no intent of leaving the office. He was left with his paranoid train of the thought and the constant drip drip drip of sweat splashing against the obsidian surface of the table. He knew that punk Remington was up to something big. The boy wonder never bluffed, and if he had some breakthrough, Tachyon could easily be out of the red.
Pittman cringed as he clicked the remote control. He always enjoyed the sight of watching his competitors go down in flames. Especially cocky new kids like Spencer Remington.
The center of the obsidian table opening, and a double-sided flat screen emerged, already tuned into NACN. Pittman removed the kerchief from his welt pocket and dabbed his brow, brushing aside the stray white hair. This was Tachyon’s flare for theatrics at work. The camera’s viewpoint showed three cinema-sized screens propped up among a clearing in an Iowa cornfield. A grandstand, complete with podium, faced the rows of reporters that sat in waiting. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, still blue in the Midwest. Then came Remington, smile a billion dollars wide in his cornflower blue business suit and corn-colored tie.
“Smug little bastard, aren’t you?” Pittman asked.
As his adversary tapped the microphone two thousand miles away, the intercom buzzed in front of his face. “Mr. Pittman, sir, there’s a gentleman who says you have an appointment with him. I don’t see his name anywhere in the calendar.”
“Then show him the door, Miles. I’m busy.”
“Very good, sir.”
***
“Clean, affordable energy has been a century-long dream, and one that most people said would be never become a reality. Today, I am here to tell you that we are on the brink of a new age in civilization.”
A sea of arms shot up, each trying to rise over the others.
“I thought you guys would wait until after the sales pitch was made,” said Spencer Remington, amping up the aw-shucks twang in his Texas accent. “You, in the front.”
“Pardon our skepticism, but is this another Dean Kamen?” said a gaunt reporter with wolf’s eyes.
Remington chuckled. “Believe me, this is no Segway announcement. This is slightly better. Now, when you turn on your lights, plug in your cell phone, watch the television, use the fridge, you’re using energy that is 88% non-renewable. It’s gone, lost. Whether it’s a drop of oil or a pile of bituminous coal, it’s not coming back. It’s a recipe for disaster. And thanks to the genius of the good people at Tachyon Industries, it is a fate that has been swept away forever. Beginning this month, the town that has been kind enough to host this operation, Prairie Creek, Iowa, will be the first community in the world to be entirely powered by fusion.” He waited for the murmurs to die down. “And you, in the blue.”
As soon as he chose the pretty brunette in the blue pantsuit, Spencer regretted his choice, although he didn’t know why. She seemed vaguely familiar.
“But how? Universities across the globe have been trying to unlock the secrets of fusion. Even the most successful result at UCLA uses more energy than it produces.”
“In the upcoming months, we will invite professors and students to see what we have created. Meanwhile, I hope the citizens of Prairie Creek look forward to a substantial decrease in their electricity bill.” Some of the reporters chuckled, and Spencer felt right again. This felt like his month, his year, his life.
***
A crisp wind rattled the bone-brittle branches in the Virginia forest. The first few snowflakes landed along the windows of the Angels’ shadow HQ. Faith-Mari Hopkins sighed as she looked outside. Thirty-six hours straight without a wink of sleep is murder on the senses, no matter how much adrenaline is coursing through the system.
“Sorry about this,” said Julian Addison as he handed the Styrofoam cup to her. “It’s day-old coffee, so I can’t say much about the taste.”
Taking a sip, she looked back to her father, who hadn’t moved from his chair since he entered Quantico. She had only entered the Angels training program two years prior, but her days of homecomings and proms and skipping out of Card’s house in the dead of night seemed like decades-old dreams.
“I really messed up, didn’t I?”
Julian shook his head. “No more than any of us would’ve done. I would’ve brought back my old man if he was getting shot at.”
The flurries were coming in thicker, with more velocity.
“Has she cracked yet?”
“Nope. Been keeping her up. Sometimes we’ve had to toss a pitcher of water to let her know she’s not catching any winks. Basically, been doing everything Geneva will allow us to do, but she’s tough.”
A voice behind them said, “What weaknesses does she have?”
Faith-Mari turned back to see her father, alert and focused, pupils pinpointed to almost nothing behind his glasses.
She searched her memory, thinking of anything the captive had said.
“Who is she?” asked Faith-Mari.
“Honey North,” said Julian. “We made a confirmation on the ID a couple of hours ago.”
“Got any previous photos?”
“One. Have a mugshot when she was charged with pulling the trigger on a courier in Los Angeles back in ’04. They let her go. No fingerprints, no evidence. She was good.”
Faith-Mari downed the last of the coffee. “Sir, could you print me up a copy of that picture?”
Faith-Mari slammed open the door to the interrogation room.
Sitting in the chair across from her sat Honey North, hands tied behind her. Her pink bobbed wig ruined, purple leotard and rose silk stocking damp with the pitcher of water splashed on her, facial scars scabbing over, the assassin greeted her captor with a well-timed spit to the face.
Without pause, Faith-Mari tossed the picture of Honey, unblemished face and all, onto the table.
“Would you like your old face back, Miss North?”
“Lot of good that’ll do me in Goldenwoods, won’t it? Perfect faces don’t stay perfect in there for long.”
Faith-Mari shrugged. “Fair enough. You might want this.” She took out a compact mirror from her purse and left it on the table, face up.
She didn’t make it out of the door before she heard, “Wait.”
“She was working for Spencer Remington,” Faith-Mari said. “Seems some people don’t like it when we pry into their embezzling affairs.”
“No kidding?” said Julian. “Embezzlers always seemed like such softies at heart. Shall we set up the flight to Dubuque?”
Faith-Mari reached inside her pantsuit jacket and took out two boarding passes. “Already there. I don’t know who I’m taking with me. I was thinking Beckett could use the field experience.”
“She’s already there, but I could use the exercise. It’s been a while.”
Faith-Mari thought she could see the flash of a smile cross Julian Addison’s face.
“Oh, and when shall we set up the reconstructive surgery for Miss North?” she asked.
“I thought the twelfth of Never seemed like a good date. Don’t you think?”
Theodore Pittman scratched his nails across the obsidian table as Remington gave the details of his revolutionary energy program before the increasingly interested crowd of reporters. The gleam in the punk kid’s eyes was a giveaway; he wasn’t pulling any wool over.
The intercom crackled again. “Sir, the gentleman won’t leave. I’m calling security now.”
“Good to see you’re taking the initiative, Miles. I want him out of my building ten minutes ago.”
Pittman listened to the secretary as the intercom stayed on. “Sir, you’re going to have to vacate the premises. Sir, please go. What are you… oh my God…”
Then a high-pitched squeal drilled its way into his ears. Quickly, he switched the intercom off. Flipping the controls back on, he called for Miles once, twice. No answer. He pushed away from the table, almost sending the rolling chair back to the oak-paneled walls. He thought back to a movie he saw as a young man, Fail-Safe. In it, the president was on the nuclear hotline with his ambassador when he heard the same sort of shriek over the wires. It was the sound of the phone on the other end, melting.
On the television, a reporter asked, “How will you keep your new-found secrets away from competitors such as Fulcrum, Argosy, and Panoramic?”
With a smile, Remington said, “We don’t plan to. We’ll be sharing our big secrets with the other companies soon enough.”
Then the lights blackened, leaving Pittman in the dark.
On the opposite end of the room, the gentle ping of the elevator.
How is the elevator working if the power’s out? Pittman wondered.
The doors opened, and a blinding red glow emanated, flooding the room. In the distance, Pittman could see the charred outline of a man.
“Who are you?” he asked. Even as he did, he felt his voice grow weak, as if someone was choking him from the inside.
Emotionless, cold, the man said, “I am Oblivion.”
Pittman felt himself sliding toward the man, as if he was magnetically pulled. He thought he could feel his bones shifting inside, being pulled to the outside. But that wasn’t possible. The chairs, the television set, and the obsidian table slid with him, toward the man. He tried to scream, but found he couldn’t.
Just before he passed out, he saw the table crumble into itself, leaving a mere dot, as did the chairs, the set, and by God, his legs…
Blue Angels: Absolute Power
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Absolute Power (Part 2A)
Thanks for the comments. Sorry I've been away for a while. Still trying to figure out how the rest of this section goes, so I thought I'd release what I had so far.
****
Unbridled winds drifted along the top of the cornfield. Tachyon workers walked along the clearing, picking up the folding chairs and striking the widescreens from the main set. Crumpled papers blew across the dirt. The reporters had long since driven out to the airport.
From within the cornfield, Josie Beckett took out a pair of binoculars from her purse. As soon as he cover as reporter was no longer required, she separated herself from the crowd, entering the natural hiding place of the field. She watched Spencer Remington and his entourage enter through the security checkpoints of an unmarked building, only a short walk from the press conference field. She noted the two uniformed guards, machine guns held in vice grips.
Other than Remington and his hulking right-hand man, she counted the two women in purple who staged the attack on Agents Hopkins and Delfina, as well as the JANUS agent who defected with Director Quist.
Into her Bluetooth headset, Beckett said, “Attention Acting Director Addison: Have made visual identification on Remington. Coordinates at 49.379350 North, 94.087010 West. Entering structure to neutralize subject.”
She quickly slipped out of her pantsuit, revealing her Blue Angels uniform underneath. She was going to show Addison that Josie Beckett was not incompetent. She was one of the first to fall in the battle with Archangel’s forces in the old HQ building. She was powerless to stop Director Quist when he mutated during the implosion. If not for the Addison’s help, she would have been sucked into the void. But this was going to be different.
She scoped the side of the building, making sure there were no circling guards. When she was convinced that there was no danger, Josie ran up to the wall. There were no windows on the first floor of the structure, but a single pane stood ten feet over her. She removed the grappling gun from her utility belt and took aim. A nearly silent shot later, and the metal latch caught successfully onto the sill. The rappelling took no more than a minute. Cutting a hole through the glass was also a quick affair.
She made no sounds. The execution was solid.
As soon as she set foot on the second floor, a voice yelled, “Stop right there.”
She barely got in all the way before a solid right hand came flying her way. She barely saw the silver flash of Lindsey O’Riordan’s catsuit before knuckles met jaw. The punch sent her sprawling back to the wall. Another right cross sent her flying into the corner. Two gloved hands came up to her neck, closing around her throat, trying to crush her windpipe.
For a moment, Josie tried prying herself free. Her head felt heavy, and she could see pools of black in the center of her vision. Then she remembered the advice from Director Lee: “The cliché has it wrong. The best defense is a good offense.”
Instead of continuing the struggle, Josie wrapped her arms around Lindsey’s waist and squeezed with whatever power she had left. Seconds later, she felt the rush of warm air as the JANUS agent released her hold. Relentless, Josie continued to constrict her foe, lifting Lindsey off her feet. But with the newly freed arms, Josie didn’t see the chops coming, as both hands came down, knife-edge, on her trapezeus muscles. Both girls collapsed, struggling to get to their feet.
Lindsey swung first, but Josie was ready this time. She ducked well ahead, feeling the wind from the haymaker. She then kneed Lindsey flush in the mid-section, sending her back down. “Show no mercy,” said Josie, remembering more of her mentor’s words. Yanking up Lindsey by the collar, she reached around her shoulder with one arm and dug into the upper thigh with the other. Lifting her enemy so she was horizontal at shoulder-length, Josie dropped her down, stomach-first, over her knee. Sensing victory, Josie brought up Lindsey by her maple hair, gripped her into a front face lock, and dropped straight down, driving her facedown onto the floor.
She could feel the light breathing of sleep. She had done it. She had dispatched an adversary.
Josie was so proud that she didn’t register the other Blue Angel that was making her way over to the end of the corridor.
“Stacy, I mean, Agent Delfina. I’m glad you’re here. We need to find out any information we can from this traitor…”
She couldn’t finish her thought before Stacy’s gloved hand came down around her temples, clamping down across her face. The clawhold sapped the confidence out of Josie. She was still trying to comprehend how another Angel could betray her when she felt her legs give way, and she slipped, leaning against Stacy. The renegade Angel wrapped her other arm around her prey, making sure she wouldn’t escape. She held on a few moments after Josie lost consciousness.
****
Unbridled winds drifted along the top of the cornfield. Tachyon workers walked along the clearing, picking up the folding chairs and striking the widescreens from the main set. Crumpled papers blew across the dirt. The reporters had long since driven out to the airport.
From within the cornfield, Josie Beckett took out a pair of binoculars from her purse. As soon as he cover as reporter was no longer required, she separated herself from the crowd, entering the natural hiding place of the field. She watched Spencer Remington and his entourage enter through the security checkpoints of an unmarked building, only a short walk from the press conference field. She noted the two uniformed guards, machine guns held in vice grips.
Other than Remington and his hulking right-hand man, she counted the two women in purple who staged the attack on Agents Hopkins and Delfina, as well as the JANUS agent who defected with Director Quist.
Into her Bluetooth headset, Beckett said, “Attention Acting Director Addison: Have made visual identification on Remington. Coordinates at 49.379350 North, 94.087010 West. Entering structure to neutralize subject.”
She quickly slipped out of her pantsuit, revealing her Blue Angels uniform underneath. She was going to show Addison that Josie Beckett was not incompetent. She was one of the first to fall in the battle with Archangel’s forces in the old HQ building. She was powerless to stop Director Quist when he mutated during the implosion. If not for the Addison’s help, she would have been sucked into the void. But this was going to be different.
She scoped the side of the building, making sure there were no circling guards. When she was convinced that there was no danger, Josie ran up to the wall. There were no windows on the first floor of the structure, but a single pane stood ten feet over her. She removed the grappling gun from her utility belt and took aim. A nearly silent shot later, and the metal latch caught successfully onto the sill. The rappelling took no more than a minute. Cutting a hole through the glass was also a quick affair.
She made no sounds. The execution was solid.
As soon as she set foot on the second floor, a voice yelled, “Stop right there.”
She barely got in all the way before a solid right hand came flying her way. She barely saw the silver flash of Lindsey O’Riordan’s catsuit before knuckles met jaw. The punch sent her sprawling back to the wall. Another right cross sent her flying into the corner. Two gloved hands came up to her neck, closing around her throat, trying to crush her windpipe.
For a moment, Josie tried prying herself free. Her head felt heavy, and she could see pools of black in the center of her vision. Then she remembered the advice from Director Lee: “The cliché has it wrong. The best defense is a good offense.”
Instead of continuing the struggle, Josie wrapped her arms around Lindsey’s waist and squeezed with whatever power she had left. Seconds later, she felt the rush of warm air as the JANUS agent released her hold. Relentless, Josie continued to constrict her foe, lifting Lindsey off her feet. But with the newly freed arms, Josie didn’t see the chops coming, as both hands came down, knife-edge, on her trapezeus muscles. Both girls collapsed, struggling to get to their feet.
Lindsey swung first, but Josie was ready this time. She ducked well ahead, feeling the wind from the haymaker. She then kneed Lindsey flush in the mid-section, sending her back down. “Show no mercy,” said Josie, remembering more of her mentor’s words. Yanking up Lindsey by the collar, she reached around her shoulder with one arm and dug into the upper thigh with the other. Lifting her enemy so she was horizontal at shoulder-length, Josie dropped her down, stomach-first, over her knee. Sensing victory, Josie brought up Lindsey by her maple hair, gripped her into a front face lock, and dropped straight down, driving her facedown onto the floor.
She could feel the light breathing of sleep. She had done it. She had dispatched an adversary.
Josie was so proud that she didn’t register the other Blue Angel that was making her way over to the end of the corridor.
“Stacy, I mean, Agent Delfina. I’m glad you’re here. We need to find out any information we can from this traitor…”
She couldn’t finish her thought before Stacy’s gloved hand came down around her temples, clamping down across her face. The clawhold sapped the confidence out of Josie. She was still trying to comprehend how another Angel could betray her when she felt her legs give way, and she slipped, leaning against Stacy. The renegade Angel wrapped her other arm around her prey, making sure she wouldn’t escape. She held on a few moments after Josie lost consciousness.
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End of Part II
The Mini-Concorde fired its engines on the runaway of Kelly Penrose Field at Quantico. The rain came down in sheets, blown almost horizontal by the incoming gusts.
“Thankfully, there’s no lightning yet. Otherwise, they’d ground us,” said Addison as he placed his standard issue 9mm into his holster. “We just picked up the coordinates from Agent Beckett. We have to get airborne now, Hopkins. Sooner we bring down Remington, the more likely we get back Delfina in one piece.”
Faith-Mari nodded. She raced through the port, past the liaisons that surrounded the exit. As she heard the doors close behind her, she could hear a familiar voice yell, “Leave me alone. I need to see my daughter.”
Without looking back, she said, “You can let him pass.”
She could hear Card’s footsteps grow heavier and heavier.
“Don’t turn around,” he said. “I don’t know if I can look you in the face and keep my composure. Now if you did this just so you could make a difference in this world, that’s great. Lord knows I can’t say the same. And if you’re able to find and stop whomever it is you’re after, well, that’s fine, too. But you bring my boy back. Bring your brother back.” A second’s worth of pause beat down like a fortnight of rain.
“That’s all,” Card said, and then the new sound of footsteps grew lighter, until the doors slammed shut.
Three thousand miles from the takeoff of the Mini-Concorde, another jet made its way into American airspace. This Cessna bore the symbol of Tachyon Energy, a glowing yellow T, on the wing. Other than the pilot, there was only one passenger. He made a phone call to his new employer, as he was instructed.
“The argosy has been sunk, sir,” said Oblivion. “I await your new orders.”
Spencer Remington’s laughter could be heard over the line. “It pains me to say this, but I want you to place your visits to Blazon Oil and Excalibur Energy on hold. We have new problems arising here. One of your girlfriend’s charges tried to break into Prometheus, and she almost got away with it. Surely the Angels are bringing reinforcements. We need to rally all the troops and ensure the survival of the company. We will save this world, no matter how badly they will try to stop us. You understand your orders, Oblivion?”
“We will be touching down in Dubuque in three hours.” The former Nathaniel Quist turned off the phone, little realizing that his energy field bent the razor case slightly.
Faith-Mari and Director Addison didn’t need to duck down to stay out of sight. The cornfield towered over them. They checked for security measures; wire trips, cameras, sensors in the ground. They didn’t see anything, but they knew Remington would have some way of recognizing intruders. As such, they acted as if they were being watched. In his camouflage gear, Director Addison blended in fairly decently into the green sea. Faith-Mari knew she had no such luck; in the standard blue leotard and electric blue nylons, she couldn’t have stuck out more if she had been wearing 60s-style tie-dye.
After a quarter-mile, she saw the edges of the building. “Target is within 500 yards, on your two o’clock. Will check the perimeter for traps and security.”
“Very good, Hopkins. Will swoop south to east, you take west to north. Maintain audio silence.”
The building was non-descript; white walls with no signs, solid black doors, windows on each floor. It was a case study in flat, boring architecture.
Place could use a plant, or a fountain, or anything, thought Faith-Mari before the roar of an engine blasted through the cornfield. In front of her, she could see Addison motioning to her, signaling that there two in the main entrance, and two circling the building. Behind him, she could see the rows of corn moving violently, being bent and cut.
“Julian, behind you! Dive out!”
Addison took one look behind, and in a fluid motion, dove to his side a fraction of a second before the combine harvester could run him down. The red metal monster chugged by, and Faith-Mari could see the pink bobbed wig and purple spandex-clad shoulders of the driver. Candy.
“It’s Honey’s friends,” she said. She could barely finish her sentence before a hail of gunfire whizzed by her, snapping into corn stalks. She dove for the ground, then moved immediately before a second harvester, driven by Sugar, ran through the field, nearly crushing her. Faith-Mari heard a brief cackle of laughter before dodging another round of automatic fire.
“Hopkins, get to the northern most point of the field, but do not head out into the open, or they’ll gun us down. When you get there, run north to south. I’ll take east to west. Get one of them to follow you. I’ll have the other trail me. Give me your location so we can meet, and hopefully we’ll have a pile-up in the middle of the field.”
“Copy,” she said. She gnashed her teeth as the stalks snapped back at her, lashing at her face, cutting at her nylons. As per the training at Quantico, she ran in a zigzag pattern, making her movements random. Even doing this, she knew she only had so much room before one of Sugar’s bullets would hit.
She ran southbound, looking to her left. She couldn’t see Addison, but she could see the first harvester chugging along, and hear its own stream of gunfire.
“Hopkins!” she heard. “Cross now!” She nearly ran into Addison as they passed each other. She knew it would be better not to look, but she did. Sugar’s harvester came to a grinding halt to avoid a collision with Candy’s, who took the same precautions. The sickle bar mower of Candy’s harvester stopped as it began to scrape along the side of Sugar’s cabin. Faith-Mari could see the two assassins yelling at each other, but only for a moment, before Director Addison’s shape came into view. Jumping onto Candy’s harvester, he broke open the door, ducked underneath the burst of gunfire, and dug a clawed hand deep into Candy’s trapezeus muscle.
Faith-Mari saw Sugar reloading her Uzi. She would need no more than a few seconds before Addison was a target. With top speed, Faith-Mari jumped onto the side of the harvester and swung the door open. Clip half-stuck in the gun, Sugar swung at the Angel and missed. Faith-Mari connected with a back elbow, then grabbed Sugar by the front of her leotard’s scoop-neck and yanked her out of the cabin. Flipped over, the remaining member of The Sweetness landed in the field, the stalks breaking her fall. Faith-Mari jumped down to meet her prey, but Sugar greeted her with a defensive kick to the abdomen. A couple of solid lefts later, and Faith-Mari propped herself against the thresher to keep from losing her vertical base. Then Sugar went to the well once too often, rearing back for a knockout blow. Faith-Mari ducked under with time to spare, reached underneath the outstretched arm of her foe, and applied an arm triangle choke that worked as well as it did in training. Sugar fought with enough energy to lift herself off the ground, but she couldn’t reach behind to break free. It took less than a minute for the hired hand to go from fully alert to fast asleep.
“Are you all right, Hopkins?” she heard crackling through her Bluetooth.
“Might need a bit more eyeshadow than I’d like this week, but I’ll manage. Was that a Vulcan nerve hold I saw you use?”
A bit of silence on the other end. Then: “Yes. Yes, it was.”
“So they teach Star Trek in Spec Ops, Julian?”
“No. But everyone needs more Trek in their lives. Now if we can break into the building, please.”
They entered the clearing of the building, timed the guards, and entered through the same window. Faith-Mari noted the cut in the glass.
“Beckett was here, all right. Heard anything from her?”
“Not in the last few hours.” Addison looked across the corridor. No sign of a struggle.
“Not good,” Faith-Mari said. “Definitely not good.”
“Thankfully, there’s no lightning yet. Otherwise, they’d ground us,” said Addison as he placed his standard issue 9mm into his holster. “We just picked up the coordinates from Agent Beckett. We have to get airborne now, Hopkins. Sooner we bring down Remington, the more likely we get back Delfina in one piece.”
Faith-Mari nodded. She raced through the port, past the liaisons that surrounded the exit. As she heard the doors close behind her, she could hear a familiar voice yell, “Leave me alone. I need to see my daughter.”
Without looking back, she said, “You can let him pass.”
She could hear Card’s footsteps grow heavier and heavier.
“Don’t turn around,” he said. “I don’t know if I can look you in the face and keep my composure. Now if you did this just so you could make a difference in this world, that’s great. Lord knows I can’t say the same. And if you’re able to find and stop whomever it is you’re after, well, that’s fine, too. But you bring my boy back. Bring your brother back.” A second’s worth of pause beat down like a fortnight of rain.
“That’s all,” Card said, and then the new sound of footsteps grew lighter, until the doors slammed shut.
Three thousand miles from the takeoff of the Mini-Concorde, another jet made its way into American airspace. This Cessna bore the symbol of Tachyon Energy, a glowing yellow T, on the wing. Other than the pilot, there was only one passenger. He made a phone call to his new employer, as he was instructed.
“The argosy has been sunk, sir,” said Oblivion. “I await your new orders.”
Spencer Remington’s laughter could be heard over the line. “It pains me to say this, but I want you to place your visits to Blazon Oil and Excalibur Energy on hold. We have new problems arising here. One of your girlfriend’s charges tried to break into Prometheus, and she almost got away with it. Surely the Angels are bringing reinforcements. We need to rally all the troops and ensure the survival of the company. We will save this world, no matter how badly they will try to stop us. You understand your orders, Oblivion?”
“We will be touching down in Dubuque in three hours.” The former Nathaniel Quist turned off the phone, little realizing that his energy field bent the razor case slightly.
Faith-Mari and Director Addison didn’t need to duck down to stay out of sight. The cornfield towered over them. They checked for security measures; wire trips, cameras, sensors in the ground. They didn’t see anything, but they knew Remington would have some way of recognizing intruders. As such, they acted as if they were being watched. In his camouflage gear, Director Addison blended in fairly decently into the green sea. Faith-Mari knew she had no such luck; in the standard blue leotard and electric blue nylons, she couldn’t have stuck out more if she had been wearing 60s-style tie-dye.
After a quarter-mile, she saw the edges of the building. “Target is within 500 yards, on your two o’clock. Will check the perimeter for traps and security.”
“Very good, Hopkins. Will swoop south to east, you take west to north. Maintain audio silence.”
The building was non-descript; white walls with no signs, solid black doors, windows on each floor. It was a case study in flat, boring architecture.
Place could use a plant, or a fountain, or anything, thought Faith-Mari before the roar of an engine blasted through the cornfield. In front of her, she could see Addison motioning to her, signaling that there two in the main entrance, and two circling the building. Behind him, she could see the rows of corn moving violently, being bent and cut.
“Julian, behind you! Dive out!”
Addison took one look behind, and in a fluid motion, dove to his side a fraction of a second before the combine harvester could run him down. The red metal monster chugged by, and Faith-Mari could see the pink bobbed wig and purple spandex-clad shoulders of the driver. Candy.
“It’s Honey’s friends,” she said. She could barely finish her sentence before a hail of gunfire whizzed by her, snapping into corn stalks. She dove for the ground, then moved immediately before a second harvester, driven by Sugar, ran through the field, nearly crushing her. Faith-Mari heard a brief cackle of laughter before dodging another round of automatic fire.
“Hopkins, get to the northern most point of the field, but do not head out into the open, or they’ll gun us down. When you get there, run north to south. I’ll take east to west. Get one of them to follow you. I’ll have the other trail me. Give me your location so we can meet, and hopefully we’ll have a pile-up in the middle of the field.”
“Copy,” she said. She gnashed her teeth as the stalks snapped back at her, lashing at her face, cutting at her nylons. As per the training at Quantico, she ran in a zigzag pattern, making her movements random. Even doing this, she knew she only had so much room before one of Sugar’s bullets would hit.
She ran southbound, looking to her left. She couldn’t see Addison, but she could see the first harvester chugging along, and hear its own stream of gunfire.
“Hopkins!” she heard. “Cross now!” She nearly ran into Addison as they passed each other. She knew it would be better not to look, but she did. Sugar’s harvester came to a grinding halt to avoid a collision with Candy’s, who took the same precautions. The sickle bar mower of Candy’s harvester stopped as it began to scrape along the side of Sugar’s cabin. Faith-Mari could see the two assassins yelling at each other, but only for a moment, before Director Addison’s shape came into view. Jumping onto Candy’s harvester, he broke open the door, ducked underneath the burst of gunfire, and dug a clawed hand deep into Candy’s trapezeus muscle.
Faith-Mari saw Sugar reloading her Uzi. She would need no more than a few seconds before Addison was a target. With top speed, Faith-Mari jumped onto the side of the harvester and swung the door open. Clip half-stuck in the gun, Sugar swung at the Angel and missed. Faith-Mari connected with a back elbow, then grabbed Sugar by the front of her leotard’s scoop-neck and yanked her out of the cabin. Flipped over, the remaining member of The Sweetness landed in the field, the stalks breaking her fall. Faith-Mari jumped down to meet her prey, but Sugar greeted her with a defensive kick to the abdomen. A couple of solid lefts later, and Faith-Mari propped herself against the thresher to keep from losing her vertical base. Then Sugar went to the well once too often, rearing back for a knockout blow. Faith-Mari ducked under with time to spare, reached underneath the outstretched arm of her foe, and applied an arm triangle choke that worked as well as it did in training. Sugar fought with enough energy to lift herself off the ground, but she couldn’t reach behind to break free. It took less than a minute for the hired hand to go from fully alert to fast asleep.
“Are you all right, Hopkins?” she heard crackling through her Bluetooth.
“Might need a bit more eyeshadow than I’d like this week, but I’ll manage. Was that a Vulcan nerve hold I saw you use?”
A bit of silence on the other end. Then: “Yes. Yes, it was.”
“So they teach Star Trek in Spec Ops, Julian?”
“No. But everyone needs more Trek in their lives. Now if we can break into the building, please.”
They entered the clearing of the building, timed the guards, and entered through the same window. Faith-Mari noted the cut in the glass.
“Beckett was here, all right. Heard anything from her?”
“Not in the last few hours.” Addison looked across the corridor. No sign of a struggle.
“Not good,” Faith-Mari said. “Definitely not good.”
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superpics4les
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ashleychloroformed
- Henchman
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The Great Dutch Ninja
- Henchman
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- Joined: 22 years ago
- Location: Medford, MA
Chapter III
Thanks for the compliments. Hoping to post the chapters more frequently in the upcoming days.
****
“Is she ready?” asked Remington. “I want her switched before the cavalry comes calling.”
From the utility room of the power center, Dr. Abraham Zorin yelled, “She is, Mr. Remington. You must learn some patience. Genius cannot be rushed.” The door opened, and Josie Beckett emerged, eyes dimmed, mouth slack, stare a mile long.
“When I want some lifestyle advice from a convicted felon, I’ll send out an ad in the Morning News.” Remington walked around the hypnotized angel, sliding the back of his hand down her arm. “You’re going to be needed in fairly short order, princess?”
He took a few more steps past Josie and toward Lindsey, who propped herself against the corner, holding her head from the DDT. “You know how I became the CEO of Tachyon, babe?”
“Don’t call me babe,” Lindsey growled. She moved away from the corner as Victor Evermonde walked toward her, his face granite still, eyes hidden behind sunglasses.
“Hey, big guy, no need for an unpleasant scene. You’re scaring the helpless little thing.” Remington smiled as his bodyguard backed away. “I became the head of this company through success. I refuse to believe that failure exists. You can see success as a possibility, or you can see success as a necessity, like breathing or sleeping.” The sound of his footsteps echoed across the nearly empty power room as he advanced on Lindsey. “I have power. Not because I’m the richest, or smartest, or kindness, or meanest. I only know how to do my job right. That’s what makes me a billionaire, and a weak little cupcake like you a failure.”
With a sudden shove, he pushed Lindsey against the bricks, and with no wasted motion, he trapped her, one hand holding tight to a handful of hair, his other arm around her waist. She could feel the warmth of his breath in her ear.
“Fail me again, and they will never find you.”
Red klaxons blared in the power center. The automated voice informed all inside of the intruder alert.
Remington laughed. “But you get to sit this one out, sweetie.” He let go of his grip, leaving her wide-eyed and shocked.
Evermonde punched into his open palm. “Let me take care of them, sir.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Remington looked up to the intercom. “How many, Providence?”
The automated system replied, “There are two unauthorized signatures. Location: Coolant chamber.”
“Marvelous. Providence, disable the klaxons in that section of the building. Dr. Zorin, get Miss Delfina to help my new doll. And bring in our other new ally. I think 3 on 2 is a fair fight.”
Faith-Mari took in the sight of the tanks, which covered the entire wall surface of the chamber, with the exception of the doorframes. Steam floated, trapped in the tops of the tanks. A control panel lay in the center, set on automatic control. Whatever device required the use of the tens of thousands of gallons that fit along all four walls didn’t need much in the way of human maintenance.
“What do you suppose this is?” she asked Addison.
“Probably some kind of coolant facility,” said the deputy director. “All nuclear facilities have pools of water to douse the fission reactions. Of course, none of them are as small as this.”
“Small?” asked Faith-Mari.
“Most are many times the size of these tanks. Means whatever energy source is being used here doesn’t expend as much heat.”
In the background, footsteps. Rapid. Becoming louder.
“We’re going to have company, Hopkins,” said Addison.
Two figures blocked the only opening to the chamber. Both stood tense against the doorsill. Both wore the familiar blue leotards, electric blue nylons, same as Faith-Mari’s.
“Stacy? Josie?”
The junior angels had identical empty smiles.
“What is happening here, agents?” asked Addison.
Stacy and Josie looked at each other, the grins widening. Then they looked to their target, first walking, then running, and before Addison could shout a warning, both executed picture perfect dropkicks, leveling their much larger foe.
“What are you doing?” yelled Faith-Mari. She roped her arms around Stacy, dragging her away. The hypnotized angel slithered her way around in Faith-Mari’s hold until the two were face to face. Then Stacy reached in through her partner’s mask and raked her eyes.
Faith-Mari released the hold, hands up to her damaged retinas. Stacy followed by kicking her in the side, laying her out face-up. Not giving a moment’s rest, Stacy straddled the fallen agent, leaning over and biting her in the face.
In the midst of her own screams, Faith-Mari could hear Addison’s muffled cries, “Hopkins! Help me!” In the corner of her eye, she could see Beckett clamping down on his throat with her legs, scissoring the breath from his lungs.
Stacy got up to her feet, lifting Faith-Mari up with two handfuls of hair. With brute force, she rammed her face first into the control panel, twice, scrambling buttons and twisting dials. Hands still roots deep in her former friend’s head, she threw Faith-Mari into the glass sides of the tanks. As if regressed to primitive instincts, Stacy shoved the back of Faith-Mari’s head into the glass, cracking it with the first blow, shattering it with the second, sending a cascade of water slamming into the cooling chamber.
Concussed, dazed, Faith-Mari entangled her legs around her opponent’s. Both angels collapsed into the rising water. Out of instinct, Faith-Mari wrapped one arm around Stacy’s throat and squeezed with whatever power she had left. Her other arm went around Stacy’s waist, pinning them together, giving no escape route. Stacy screamed until the air in her lungs was gone, and when screams failed her, she kicked away, landing several backwards blows. But after several minutes, her lights dimmed, and she lay unconscious. Even with the battle behind them, Faith-Mari made certain that Stacy’s mouth and nose remained above water.
“Addison,” she said under her breath. She looked across them room. The deputy director lay prone on the ground, next to Josie, hands around each other’s throats. She checked both of their vital signs. Both were out for the time being, and both would have trouble singing showtunes for the next few days, but breathing was strong, heart rates steady.
Faith-Mari grabbed her utility belt, looking for anything to wake Addison. Then she heard: “Sis?”
She looked to the doorway. Owen.
She ran to him, seeing nothing but her brother, hearing nothing but her father’s words from the airfield. She held him tight, whispering thanks to whoever was watching over him.
“Faith?”
She looked into his eyes. The same vacant stare.
Two fingers jammed their way into her mouth, hitting her soft palette, down into her gullet. Her eyes opened wide. Owen had the same smile as Stacy and Josie. The exact same smile. She tried to pry away her brother, but he proved surprisingly, overwhelming strong. She barely lasted a minute.
The turbulence woke her. She heard a deep voice yell, “We got the response from Oblivion. He’s turning around and heading for Casper.”
“Very good, Victor. Tell the workers to prepare for my arrival.” A brief moment of silence. Then: “Natrona County, this is Two Two Zulu. Awaiting landing instructions, over.”
Faith-Mari saw Owen and Stacy in two seats on one side of the aisle, Josie and Lindsey in the other. Then that deep voice: “I think our special guest is getting airsick.” She felt powerful hands press an oxygen mask against her nose and mouth. She had no strength to fight back. As she passed out, she heard the pilot: “This is Remington Two Two Zulu. Making our final approach.”
Deep into the night, at Quantico’s medical ward, the code blue alert brought the doctors running. There had been no critical cases expected that evening. The surprise was intensified when the alert was identified as coming from bed 28. The patient had been comatose for days, but showed no signs of respiratory or cardiac failure. Brain waves had been strong when recorded in the evening rounds.
The staff brought in the crash cart, racing into bed 28.
What they saw caused panic. The chief nurse on staff grabbed her cell phone from the lockers.
“Hello? Deputy Director Addison, please.” She wiped the sweat from her brow. “Then whomever is in charge.” She tried to count backwards, measure her breathing, all means to calm herself. “Agent Chase, this is Nurse Bennings. We need agents immediately. Director Lee is missing.”
****
“Is she ready?” asked Remington. “I want her switched before the cavalry comes calling.”
From the utility room of the power center, Dr. Abraham Zorin yelled, “She is, Mr. Remington. You must learn some patience. Genius cannot be rushed.” The door opened, and Josie Beckett emerged, eyes dimmed, mouth slack, stare a mile long.
“When I want some lifestyle advice from a convicted felon, I’ll send out an ad in the Morning News.” Remington walked around the hypnotized angel, sliding the back of his hand down her arm. “You’re going to be needed in fairly short order, princess?”
He took a few more steps past Josie and toward Lindsey, who propped herself against the corner, holding her head from the DDT. “You know how I became the CEO of Tachyon, babe?”
“Don’t call me babe,” Lindsey growled. She moved away from the corner as Victor Evermonde walked toward her, his face granite still, eyes hidden behind sunglasses.
“Hey, big guy, no need for an unpleasant scene. You’re scaring the helpless little thing.” Remington smiled as his bodyguard backed away. “I became the head of this company through success. I refuse to believe that failure exists. You can see success as a possibility, or you can see success as a necessity, like breathing or sleeping.” The sound of his footsteps echoed across the nearly empty power room as he advanced on Lindsey. “I have power. Not because I’m the richest, or smartest, or kindness, or meanest. I only know how to do my job right. That’s what makes me a billionaire, and a weak little cupcake like you a failure.”
With a sudden shove, he pushed Lindsey against the bricks, and with no wasted motion, he trapped her, one hand holding tight to a handful of hair, his other arm around her waist. She could feel the warmth of his breath in her ear.
“Fail me again, and they will never find you.”
Red klaxons blared in the power center. The automated voice informed all inside of the intruder alert.
Remington laughed. “But you get to sit this one out, sweetie.” He let go of his grip, leaving her wide-eyed and shocked.
Evermonde punched into his open palm. “Let me take care of them, sir.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Remington looked up to the intercom. “How many, Providence?”
The automated system replied, “There are two unauthorized signatures. Location: Coolant chamber.”
“Marvelous. Providence, disable the klaxons in that section of the building. Dr. Zorin, get Miss Delfina to help my new doll. And bring in our other new ally. I think 3 on 2 is a fair fight.”
Faith-Mari took in the sight of the tanks, which covered the entire wall surface of the chamber, with the exception of the doorframes. Steam floated, trapped in the tops of the tanks. A control panel lay in the center, set on automatic control. Whatever device required the use of the tens of thousands of gallons that fit along all four walls didn’t need much in the way of human maintenance.
“What do you suppose this is?” she asked Addison.
“Probably some kind of coolant facility,” said the deputy director. “All nuclear facilities have pools of water to douse the fission reactions. Of course, none of them are as small as this.”
“Small?” asked Faith-Mari.
“Most are many times the size of these tanks. Means whatever energy source is being used here doesn’t expend as much heat.”
In the background, footsteps. Rapid. Becoming louder.
“We’re going to have company, Hopkins,” said Addison.
Two figures blocked the only opening to the chamber. Both stood tense against the doorsill. Both wore the familiar blue leotards, electric blue nylons, same as Faith-Mari’s.
“Stacy? Josie?”
The junior angels had identical empty smiles.
“What is happening here, agents?” asked Addison.
Stacy and Josie looked at each other, the grins widening. Then they looked to their target, first walking, then running, and before Addison could shout a warning, both executed picture perfect dropkicks, leveling their much larger foe.
“What are you doing?” yelled Faith-Mari. She roped her arms around Stacy, dragging her away. The hypnotized angel slithered her way around in Faith-Mari’s hold until the two were face to face. Then Stacy reached in through her partner’s mask and raked her eyes.
Faith-Mari released the hold, hands up to her damaged retinas. Stacy followed by kicking her in the side, laying her out face-up. Not giving a moment’s rest, Stacy straddled the fallen agent, leaning over and biting her in the face.
In the midst of her own screams, Faith-Mari could hear Addison’s muffled cries, “Hopkins! Help me!” In the corner of her eye, she could see Beckett clamping down on his throat with her legs, scissoring the breath from his lungs.
Stacy got up to her feet, lifting Faith-Mari up with two handfuls of hair. With brute force, she rammed her face first into the control panel, twice, scrambling buttons and twisting dials. Hands still roots deep in her former friend’s head, she threw Faith-Mari into the glass sides of the tanks. As if regressed to primitive instincts, Stacy shoved the back of Faith-Mari’s head into the glass, cracking it with the first blow, shattering it with the second, sending a cascade of water slamming into the cooling chamber.
Concussed, dazed, Faith-Mari entangled her legs around her opponent’s. Both angels collapsed into the rising water. Out of instinct, Faith-Mari wrapped one arm around Stacy’s throat and squeezed with whatever power she had left. Her other arm went around Stacy’s waist, pinning them together, giving no escape route. Stacy screamed until the air in her lungs was gone, and when screams failed her, she kicked away, landing several backwards blows. But after several minutes, her lights dimmed, and she lay unconscious. Even with the battle behind them, Faith-Mari made certain that Stacy’s mouth and nose remained above water.
“Addison,” she said under her breath. She looked across them room. The deputy director lay prone on the ground, next to Josie, hands around each other’s throats. She checked both of their vital signs. Both were out for the time being, and both would have trouble singing showtunes for the next few days, but breathing was strong, heart rates steady.
Faith-Mari grabbed her utility belt, looking for anything to wake Addison. Then she heard: “Sis?”
She looked to the doorway. Owen.
She ran to him, seeing nothing but her brother, hearing nothing but her father’s words from the airfield. She held him tight, whispering thanks to whoever was watching over him.
“Faith?”
She looked into his eyes. The same vacant stare.
Two fingers jammed their way into her mouth, hitting her soft palette, down into her gullet. Her eyes opened wide. Owen had the same smile as Stacy and Josie. The exact same smile. She tried to pry away her brother, but he proved surprisingly, overwhelming strong. She barely lasted a minute.
The turbulence woke her. She heard a deep voice yell, “We got the response from Oblivion. He’s turning around and heading for Casper.”
“Very good, Victor. Tell the workers to prepare for my arrival.” A brief moment of silence. Then: “Natrona County, this is Two Two Zulu. Awaiting landing instructions, over.”
Faith-Mari saw Owen and Stacy in two seats on one side of the aisle, Josie and Lindsey in the other. Then that deep voice: “I think our special guest is getting airsick.” She felt powerful hands press an oxygen mask against her nose and mouth. She had no strength to fight back. As she passed out, she heard the pilot: “This is Remington Two Two Zulu. Making our final approach.”
Deep into the night, at Quantico’s medical ward, the code blue alert brought the doctors running. There had been no critical cases expected that evening. The surprise was intensified when the alert was identified as coming from bed 28. The patient had been comatose for days, but showed no signs of respiratory or cardiac failure. Brain waves had been strong when recorded in the evening rounds.
The staff brought in the crash cart, racing into bed 28.
What they saw caused panic. The chief nurse on staff grabbed her cell phone from the lockers.
“Hello? Deputy Director Addison, please.” She wiped the sweat from her brow. “Then whomever is in charge.” She tried to count backwards, measure her breathing, all means to calm herself. “Agent Chase, this is Nurse Bennings. We need agents immediately. Director Lee is missing.”
-
superpics4les
- Elder Member
- Posts: 493
- Joined: 21 years ago
- Location: Indiana USA
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The Great Dutch Ninja
- Henchman
- Posts: 53
- Joined: 22 years ago
- Location: Medford, MA
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
Faith-Mari woke to the hum of halogen lights. Eyes fluttering, she made out a body laying next to her, face down, its breath slow and steady.
"Addison, wake up," she said, barely able to get the words out. She looked to the ceiling. The room was spherical in shape. Obsidian walls held dozens of two-foot horizontal staffs that dotted the surface of the sides like a grid. Attached to the outer end of each staff was a smaller, black sphere.
"And the dreamers awaken," a voice said, resounding across a public address system. "A warm welcome to our latest intruders. I wish I could tell you that Tachyon was looking for more able bodies to bring our vision of a brighter tomorrow to fruition, but alas, your friends have performed more than admirably. All positions are closed."
Faith-Mari stumbled to her feet. "I have a better idea, Remington. Why don't you come down so we can have a friendly discussion? And bring Stacy and Josie as well. I'd love to hear their..."
One of the black spheres at Faith-Mari's waist level snapped as arches of light bounced from one end to another. In less than a second, the entire sphere glowed electric blue, expanded, then shot a bolt of lightning twenty feet, blasting Faith-Mari in the side. Her body shook with the sudden shock, standing straight up. Waves of light moved across and down until the charge dissapated. As the current died, Faith-Mari collapsed to her knees, coughing.
"We hope you've had a beneficial opening experience with the new TE Generating room. The wave that you've just witnessed represents less than half of one percent of the generator's spare capacity. As excess energy is created by our new fusion device, we need a storage facility to harness and retain that excess. Otherwise, we'd be wasting energy, and wasting currency. And nobody wants to do that. Not even airheaded angels who try to interrupt commerce. Your brand new TE Generating room should reach 100% capacity shortly. May your final minutes be painful, and your valedictions involve cursings of the deity of your choice and the gnashing of teeth. Ta."
The PA went silent, and the halogen lights flickered off. Faith-Mari got to her feet, hands pressed against her side, when another sphere from the opposite wall went electric blue, it's glow amplified by the darkness of the Generating room. Another bolt slammed into her arm, sending her headlong to the floor. Faith-Mari groaned as she heard the warming up of another sphere. As she rose, she noticed the lightning rod was at head level. She jumped out of the way as another bolt sped across the room, missing her by inches. She watched as the charge was absorbed by the sphere on the opposite side. In the oncoming seconds, she watched as a charge slammed across the room from the third level up, then the fifth.
"It's using a Fibonacci sequence," Faith-Mari said to herself. She watched as the machine raised its charge to the roof, using the eighth level, then the thirteenth. Quickly, she tried to remember the structure of the room before the lights went out. Other than the grid, there was one opening, at the top of the sphere...
Three spheres lit up at the first level. Faith-Mari kept an eye on each, spinning around to watch the charges build. As the shots occurred, she landed facedown on the steel floor, crawling toward Addison.
"Julian, we gotta march. It's going to be a thousand degrees in here in a few minutes." The only response she received was half-garbled sleeptalking.
"Ah, the hell with it," she said. The strikes landed on the second level. After the streaks died out, she lifted Addison to his feet and hoisted him into a fireman's-carry. As the bolts raced along the third floor, she gripped onto a sphere with each hand on the first floor and began to climb. She tried to keep pace with the charges, hoping to reach the top after the thirteenth and highest level strikes ended. But as she held onto the third level, she could already feel Addison's weight sinking into her shoulders. With more effort than she would've liked, she reached the fourth level. Meanwhile, the lights got further and further away, buzzing past the eighth level in what seemed like an unnaturally sped up amount of time.
Fifth level.
Far above, the thirteenth level sent off a faint glow, and went dark.
Sixth level.
"Commence full capacity test," said the voice on the PA before crackling silent again.
All the spheres on level one were aglow, sending myriad lightning strikes, creating an achingly bright, solid wall at ground level.
Seventh level.
Faith-Mari looked down as the second level's spheres turned on with a low, chilling drone. Another sheet of light blared below.
Eighth level.
At once, the third and fourth levels sparked awake.
Ninth level. Faith-Mari's foothold on the grid gave away, and her fingers dug into the spheres, keeping herself aloft by arm strength alone.
Levels five and six fired up.
Tenth level. Addison felt like the weight of the world, with a couple other planets thrown in for good measure.
Levels seven and eight commenced ignition, and Faith-Mari could feel the intense heat that was catching up. Taking as deep a breath as she could, she took three quick swings, 11, 12, 13. She felt for the opening of the duct, swung Addison inside with the last bit of muscle she had, then pulled herself in as the last five levels lit up at once.
She allowed herself to catch her breath, all the while looking at her superior. "170 pounds? I really don't think so, sir."
Spencer Remington smiled. "And the sound you just heard was the feathers of a fair angel roasting to a crisp. More endearing than Shostakovich's Fifth, and sweeter than nectar. What do you think, big guy?"
Behind him, the hulking red figure of Oblivion screamed as the revolving rings of the Energy Conductor harnessed his limitless power. With his arms and legs outstretched by the rings, he looked like the Vitruvian Man by way of Hieronymous Bosch.
"I know it hurts. And I do apologize. But the occasional pain of this certainly bests the discomfort of imprisonment and possible execution. And right now, towns from miles around would thank you. Well, they would if they knew about you. So, another hour, and another day's work is done. I may even have you get up to speed with that little treat you brought with you. But I tell you, sport. She's going to have to earn her keep. And taking a beatdown from an angel, and a rookie at that? Not gonna do it. So teach her a few things. I'd hate to have to terminate something so cute."
Oblivion's snarl turned to agony as a fresh harness buzzed down his back.
It was only two turns to Dr. Abraham Zorin's office. Faith-Mari saw him walk by as she exited the ventilation shaft. She watched as he inserted a machine with spirals into a storage closet. Taking another couple of breaths, she pushed through the flapping doors.
Zorin turned, and his eyes widened. He reached for the panic button on the side wall, but was well short of his goal when Faith-Mari raced in and delivered a pitch-perfect spinkick to the side of the face. Zorin landed flat on his back, dazed but still conscious.
"Abe, Abe, Abe," said Faith-Mari. "When are you going to stop hanging out with the bad crowds? I thought you would've learned your lesson after Marwolaeth." She looked up to the machine, still visible through the window in storage.
"Mind telling me what that does? Can it play Blu-Rays and HD DVDs? They say the format war is dead, but I always like to hedge my bets."
Zorin replied with a phrase that parents rarely teach their kids. Faith-Mari responded by stepping down on his windpipe. Zorin's kicking was initially frantic, but grew more and more tired within seconds.
"It's a hypnotic device, isn't it?"
Zorin's nod was almost immediate.
"Alright. I'm going to let go, so you can call my friends and brother into the office. We have some work to do. And when that's done, we're going to take a brief but well-earned nap. Are we clear?" She let go of her foothold.
The doctor was barely able to choke out, "Crystal."
"Addison, wake up," she said, barely able to get the words out. She looked to the ceiling. The room was spherical in shape. Obsidian walls held dozens of two-foot horizontal staffs that dotted the surface of the sides like a grid. Attached to the outer end of each staff was a smaller, black sphere.
"And the dreamers awaken," a voice said, resounding across a public address system. "A warm welcome to our latest intruders. I wish I could tell you that Tachyon was looking for more able bodies to bring our vision of a brighter tomorrow to fruition, but alas, your friends have performed more than admirably. All positions are closed."
Faith-Mari stumbled to her feet. "I have a better idea, Remington. Why don't you come down so we can have a friendly discussion? And bring Stacy and Josie as well. I'd love to hear their..."
One of the black spheres at Faith-Mari's waist level snapped as arches of light bounced from one end to another. In less than a second, the entire sphere glowed electric blue, expanded, then shot a bolt of lightning twenty feet, blasting Faith-Mari in the side. Her body shook with the sudden shock, standing straight up. Waves of light moved across and down until the charge dissapated. As the current died, Faith-Mari collapsed to her knees, coughing.
"We hope you've had a beneficial opening experience with the new TE Generating room. The wave that you've just witnessed represents less than half of one percent of the generator's spare capacity. As excess energy is created by our new fusion device, we need a storage facility to harness and retain that excess. Otherwise, we'd be wasting energy, and wasting currency. And nobody wants to do that. Not even airheaded angels who try to interrupt commerce. Your brand new TE Generating room should reach 100% capacity shortly. May your final minutes be painful, and your valedictions involve cursings of the deity of your choice and the gnashing of teeth. Ta."
The PA went silent, and the halogen lights flickered off. Faith-Mari got to her feet, hands pressed against her side, when another sphere from the opposite wall went electric blue, it's glow amplified by the darkness of the Generating room. Another bolt slammed into her arm, sending her headlong to the floor. Faith-Mari groaned as she heard the warming up of another sphere. As she rose, she noticed the lightning rod was at head level. She jumped out of the way as another bolt sped across the room, missing her by inches. She watched as the charge was absorbed by the sphere on the opposite side. In the oncoming seconds, she watched as a charge slammed across the room from the third level up, then the fifth.
"It's using a Fibonacci sequence," Faith-Mari said to herself. She watched as the machine raised its charge to the roof, using the eighth level, then the thirteenth. Quickly, she tried to remember the structure of the room before the lights went out. Other than the grid, there was one opening, at the top of the sphere...
Three spheres lit up at the first level. Faith-Mari kept an eye on each, spinning around to watch the charges build. As the shots occurred, she landed facedown on the steel floor, crawling toward Addison.
"Julian, we gotta march. It's going to be a thousand degrees in here in a few minutes." The only response she received was half-garbled sleeptalking.
"Ah, the hell with it," she said. The strikes landed on the second level. After the streaks died out, she lifted Addison to his feet and hoisted him into a fireman's-carry. As the bolts raced along the third floor, she gripped onto a sphere with each hand on the first floor and began to climb. She tried to keep pace with the charges, hoping to reach the top after the thirteenth and highest level strikes ended. But as she held onto the third level, she could already feel Addison's weight sinking into her shoulders. With more effort than she would've liked, she reached the fourth level. Meanwhile, the lights got further and further away, buzzing past the eighth level in what seemed like an unnaturally sped up amount of time.
Fifth level.
Far above, the thirteenth level sent off a faint glow, and went dark.
Sixth level.
"Commence full capacity test," said the voice on the PA before crackling silent again.
All the spheres on level one were aglow, sending myriad lightning strikes, creating an achingly bright, solid wall at ground level.
Seventh level.
Faith-Mari looked down as the second level's spheres turned on with a low, chilling drone. Another sheet of light blared below.
Eighth level.
At once, the third and fourth levels sparked awake.
Ninth level. Faith-Mari's foothold on the grid gave away, and her fingers dug into the spheres, keeping herself aloft by arm strength alone.
Levels five and six fired up.
Tenth level. Addison felt like the weight of the world, with a couple other planets thrown in for good measure.
Levels seven and eight commenced ignition, and Faith-Mari could feel the intense heat that was catching up. Taking as deep a breath as she could, she took three quick swings, 11, 12, 13. She felt for the opening of the duct, swung Addison inside with the last bit of muscle she had, then pulled herself in as the last five levels lit up at once.
She allowed herself to catch her breath, all the while looking at her superior. "170 pounds? I really don't think so, sir."
Spencer Remington smiled. "And the sound you just heard was the feathers of a fair angel roasting to a crisp. More endearing than Shostakovich's Fifth, and sweeter than nectar. What do you think, big guy?"
Behind him, the hulking red figure of Oblivion screamed as the revolving rings of the Energy Conductor harnessed his limitless power. With his arms and legs outstretched by the rings, he looked like the Vitruvian Man by way of Hieronymous Bosch.
"I know it hurts. And I do apologize. But the occasional pain of this certainly bests the discomfort of imprisonment and possible execution. And right now, towns from miles around would thank you. Well, they would if they knew about you. So, another hour, and another day's work is done. I may even have you get up to speed with that little treat you brought with you. But I tell you, sport. She's going to have to earn her keep. And taking a beatdown from an angel, and a rookie at that? Not gonna do it. So teach her a few things. I'd hate to have to terminate something so cute."
Oblivion's snarl turned to agony as a fresh harness buzzed down his back.
It was only two turns to Dr. Abraham Zorin's office. Faith-Mari saw him walk by as she exited the ventilation shaft. She watched as he inserted a machine with spirals into a storage closet. Taking another couple of breaths, she pushed through the flapping doors.
Zorin turned, and his eyes widened. He reached for the panic button on the side wall, but was well short of his goal when Faith-Mari raced in and delivered a pitch-perfect spinkick to the side of the face. Zorin landed flat on his back, dazed but still conscious.
"Abe, Abe, Abe," said Faith-Mari. "When are you going to stop hanging out with the bad crowds? I thought you would've learned your lesson after Marwolaeth." She looked up to the machine, still visible through the window in storage.
"Mind telling me what that does? Can it play Blu-Rays and HD DVDs? They say the format war is dead, but I always like to hedge my bets."
Zorin replied with a phrase that parents rarely teach their kids. Faith-Mari responded by stepping down on his windpipe. Zorin's kicking was initially frantic, but grew more and more tired within seconds.
"It's a hypnotic device, isn't it?"
Zorin's nod was almost immediate.
"Alright. I'm going to let go, so you can call my friends and brother into the office. We have some work to do. And when that's done, we're going to take a brief but well-earned nap. Are we clear?" She let go of her foothold.
The doctor was barely able to choke out, "Crystal."
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superpics4les
- Elder Member
- Posts: 493
- Joined: 21 years ago
- Location: Indiana USA
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
A little short, but nicely done! More, please! :mrgreen: 8)
"I will not fear. Fear is the mind-killer." - Paul Atredes
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
Great update GDN! Faith-Mari kicks ass :twisted: Nice trap two with the chamber hope you can update soon!
Yes Supergirl, that's right its a necklace for you....What's the matter you don't like Kryptonite?
-
The Great Dutch Ninja
- Henchman
- Posts: 53
- Joined: 22 years ago
- Location: Medford, MA
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
"Don't you find it funny that our esteemed deputy director and his little doll made it into the center, when we had well paid protection guarding the outside?" Spencer Remington asked as he rested his feet on the mahogany desk of the top-floor office.
Victor Evermonde arched his brow, eyes otherwise unreadable behind tinted sunglasses. "Funny in a strange way, sir. Not in a humorous way."
Remington shook his head. "That tears it. When we dispose of our little cadre of angels, be sure to leave a little room for those freaks. Nothing I hate more than inefficiency." He removed a box of cigars from the top drawer and took out the first stogie he could find. "Want one? The beginning of a trillion-dollar empire is a good cause celebre, don't you think?"
"No, thanks. I like my lungs as they are," said Evermonde with a smile.
"Suit yourself." Remington leaned back, blowing smoke rings to the ceiling, trying to make enough zeros in a trillion. He could barely make it to the million mark. He closed his eyes to bring up the mental images. The Argosy tower, in ruins. Panoramic's offices still smoldering. A few more trips by dear old Mr. Quist and the government would have no choice but to accept Tachyon's monopoly on the most rapidly growing sector in the stock market. A trillion dollar pie, and only one able to eat every penny. Remington chuckled to himself.
From the public address system, the computer-generated voice of Providence said, "Stacy Delfina, Josie Beckett, and Owen Hopkins, please report to the debriefing room."
Remington looked to Evermonde. "Did Dr. Zorin authorize any knew hypnotic therapies for our temporary guests?"
Evermonde was still, solid. "No, sir."
"Then I think you have some investigating to do."
The bodyguard smiled. "Yes, sir." He marched through the hallway, ready for the slightest provocation.
"What do we do with Dr. Zorin?" Josie asked, still shaking the cobwebs of her hypnosis.
"Tie him up. I'll use my rope from the utility belt. Hands, legs, feet. I want him to need the jaws of life to get out. Now, Owen." Faith-Mari unhooked a device from her utility belt. "I wish I had a gun to give you."
Owen's face told the story. "What? No guns? You guys are agents, the first of line of defense against the bad guys, and you don't even have guns? You mean, Dad's got more defense than the government?"
"No," said Faith-Mari, "but this will do in a pinch. It's a taser, and I'd thank you not to make any 'don't tase me bro' comments. If Dr. Zorin wakes up, scramble his brains with this. He'll want to stay the hell away from you soon enough. Stay in the room until we give the all clear. We'll lock the door, so if anyone comes, you'll have time to prepare."
"No problem," said Owen. "You guys are going to be careful, right?" Faith-Mari couldn't help but notice who he was looking at.
Stacy smiled. "How sweet of you to ask. But don't worry. If anything, I'd worry about the health of Remington and his goons. We'll be right back."
As the three angels locked Owen in, they looked at the identical corridors that reached out to the vanishing point in both directions.
"What now, fearless leader?" Josie asked.
"You two head for the generation room. See if Quist is being held in there. I'm off to the office. I've got an appointment with Remington, and I hate being late."
GR I still pulsed red with the excess energy that was now beyond even the capacity of the storage chamber. The heat caused the computer console to burn at the touch, and the thermostats had long since broken.
Quist breathed in and out. With each exploitation that Remington demanded from his body, the pain was more intense. It was almost as if his insides were compacting. He shook his head. He thought about a lifetime of prison, a convict of the order of treason. He began to prefer the images in his mind to the hours of being attached to the rings that spun in front of him. He felt isolated, to himself, as though all the sounds of the world were millions of miles away. He didn't even hear the door to GR I open. He could barely make the voice until she repeated his name.
"My God, Nathaniel, what has he done to you?"
Quist looked up, and he slowly shook his head. His eyes welled up, and the tears instantly turned to steam.
"Karla?"
Victor Evermonde arched his brow, eyes otherwise unreadable behind tinted sunglasses. "Funny in a strange way, sir. Not in a humorous way."
Remington shook his head. "That tears it. When we dispose of our little cadre of angels, be sure to leave a little room for those freaks. Nothing I hate more than inefficiency." He removed a box of cigars from the top drawer and took out the first stogie he could find. "Want one? The beginning of a trillion-dollar empire is a good cause celebre, don't you think?"
"No, thanks. I like my lungs as they are," said Evermonde with a smile.
"Suit yourself." Remington leaned back, blowing smoke rings to the ceiling, trying to make enough zeros in a trillion. He could barely make it to the million mark. He closed his eyes to bring up the mental images. The Argosy tower, in ruins. Panoramic's offices still smoldering. A few more trips by dear old Mr. Quist and the government would have no choice but to accept Tachyon's monopoly on the most rapidly growing sector in the stock market. A trillion dollar pie, and only one able to eat every penny. Remington chuckled to himself.
From the public address system, the computer-generated voice of Providence said, "Stacy Delfina, Josie Beckett, and Owen Hopkins, please report to the debriefing room."
Remington looked to Evermonde. "Did Dr. Zorin authorize any knew hypnotic therapies for our temporary guests?"
Evermonde was still, solid. "No, sir."
"Then I think you have some investigating to do."
The bodyguard smiled. "Yes, sir." He marched through the hallway, ready for the slightest provocation.
"What do we do with Dr. Zorin?" Josie asked, still shaking the cobwebs of her hypnosis.
"Tie him up. I'll use my rope from the utility belt. Hands, legs, feet. I want him to need the jaws of life to get out. Now, Owen." Faith-Mari unhooked a device from her utility belt. "I wish I had a gun to give you."
Owen's face told the story. "What? No guns? You guys are agents, the first of line of defense against the bad guys, and you don't even have guns? You mean, Dad's got more defense than the government?"
"No," said Faith-Mari, "but this will do in a pinch. It's a taser, and I'd thank you not to make any 'don't tase me bro' comments. If Dr. Zorin wakes up, scramble his brains with this. He'll want to stay the hell away from you soon enough. Stay in the room until we give the all clear. We'll lock the door, so if anyone comes, you'll have time to prepare."
"No problem," said Owen. "You guys are going to be careful, right?" Faith-Mari couldn't help but notice who he was looking at.
Stacy smiled. "How sweet of you to ask. But don't worry. If anything, I'd worry about the health of Remington and his goons. We'll be right back."
As the three angels locked Owen in, they looked at the identical corridors that reached out to the vanishing point in both directions.
"What now, fearless leader?" Josie asked.
"You two head for the generation room. See if Quist is being held in there. I'm off to the office. I've got an appointment with Remington, and I hate being late."
GR I still pulsed red with the excess energy that was now beyond even the capacity of the storage chamber. The heat caused the computer console to burn at the touch, and the thermostats had long since broken.
Quist breathed in and out. With each exploitation that Remington demanded from his body, the pain was more intense. It was almost as if his insides were compacting. He shook his head. He thought about a lifetime of prison, a convict of the order of treason. He began to prefer the images in his mind to the hours of being attached to the rings that spun in front of him. He felt isolated, to himself, as though all the sounds of the world were millions of miles away. He didn't even hear the door to GR I open. He could barely make the voice until she repeated his name.
"My God, Nathaniel, what has he done to you?"
Quist looked up, and he slowly shook his head. His eyes welled up, and the tears instantly turned to steam.
"Karla?"
Last edited by The Great Dutch Ninja 18 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
Alright the boss is on the scene and the girls are free excellent!
Yes Supergirl, that's right its a necklace for you....What's the matter you don't like Kryptonite?
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superpics4les
- Elder Member
- Posts: 493
- Joined: 21 years ago
- Location: Indiana USA
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
Oh yeah, baby! It's on now! Remington better grab his ankles, put his head between his legs and kiss his hindparts good-bye, 'cause the ANGELS is comin'!!! Heck, they's HERE!!! 8)
"I will not fear. Fear is the mind-killer." - Paul Atredes
-
The Great Dutch Ninja
- Henchman
- Posts: 53
- Joined: 22 years ago
- Location: Medford, MA
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
Stacy and Josie followed the legends at each corridor corner, urgency fueling every step, until the hallway ended with a blaring white door. In black stencil type by the handle: Gear Generator Room. Authorized Personnel Only.
"How about we authorize each other? Then we can go in," said Josie, looking to her partner.
"No problem with that." Stacy took out a cap explosive from her utility belt and timed it. The two angels backed up with plenty of time as the tiny blast loosened the handle. A single pull was all that was needed, and the entry didn't prompt any further alarms.
Josie ran in first, then stopped. This was no room, but a metal mesh gangway plank that stretched across a yawning crevasse of gears, switches, and pulleys, grinding away noisily beneath them. The guardrails barely came up to the angels' waists. At the far end of the gangway was a utility box, locked and secure, hanging on the wall next to the exit door.
"Well, that looks very breakable," said Josie. "I'm going for it."
"No," said Stacy. "We need to survey the area for..."
The exit door swung wide open, and Victor Evermonde stepped into the room with the air of a champion fighter. His eyes were unreadable behind his eyeglasses, and as he flexed his trapezeus and bicep muscles were almost visible beneath the tuxedo jacket.
"This isn't part of the tour," said Evermonde. "But if it interests you any, the gearshifts below are available for an up-close inspection for all our guests. I'll let you jump over now and spare yourself the beating. I'm gentlemanly like that."
Stacy sighed, then stepped forward. "I guess it's time for the spiel. By order of the Central Intelligence Agency of the United States, you, whatever your name is, are under arrest. Release all weapons from your person and place your hands above your hand."
A look of confusion crossed Evermonde's face for a second before he doubled over laughing. "I'm sorry, but that's just too precious. You expect me to just lie down and give up? Can I play along?" He threw his hands as high in the air as he could. "Oh, yes m'am, I surrender."
"Oh, I have so had enough," said Josie. She ran at full speed and connected with a crescent kick that caught Evermonde flush on the chin. The whiplash sent him back a couple of steps, but he quickly regained his stance. He felt for his face, his sunglasses askew. He picked the Ray-Bans off his head and crumpled them in his right hand, letting the pieces fall over the side. Crunching shards of glass echoed along the iron walls as they were ground to powder by the gears.
"Tsk, tsk," said Evermonde. "Let the pain parade begin."
Both angels ran in and delivered a double dropkick at heart level, but the butler was immovable, not budging a millimeter. As Josie tried to get back to her feet, she felt a catcher's glove sized hand grab a fistful of hair. Spun around, she saw Evermonde's eyes: one pale blue, the other blackened amid a bloodshot, solid red ball. With a quickness that could be heard, Evermonde headbutted the angel between her eyes, leaving her dazed and out on her feet, being held up only by the handful of auburn locks in his hand. With another handful, Evermonde yanked her up to arm's length, lifting her by the ears from beneath her coiffure. Casually, he tossed her a quarter of the way across the gangway. Josie landed with a metal thud against the mesh floor.
Evermonde awaited his next foe as he heard Stacy's steps. She ran, fist outstretched. He ducked the right cross, grabbed Stacy by the arm, and whipped her into the exit door. Stacy slid down, trying to stay upright. With a lazy motion, Evermonde brought Josie up by the back of her neck and tossed her across the room. He smiled as he heard the breath knocked out of both angels' lungs as they collided. With a full head of steam, Evermonde ran in with the power of the Long Island Express, splashing them flat against the door. Both agents collapsed to the floor, their hits ringing clearly.
"Time to earn your wings, ladies," he said as he leisurely walked toward his adversaries. Whistling, he pulled Stacy up to her feet by the scoop-neck of her leotard.
*****
"You should never have come," said Oblivion, his skin glowing an ever brighter red. "You should have died in Langley. I assure you, you will die here, Karla. I have true power now."
"Remington's the one with the power," Karla said, careful to keep her distance. "You're just the supply. He's the ringleader, and you're the carnival geek. And once he learns your secrets, you will be the one he murders. He has killed Angel agents before. Don't think he feels any higher of you just because your name tag was slightly different."
"He saved me," Oblivion said. His features were becoming more faint in the glow. "More than I can say for you. You'd rather remember me than love me. Is what they say about absence true?"
"Nathan..."
"Enough!" The outward blast sent the fusion rings flying into the walls, digging themselves inches deep into the iron. Shards of metal and glass embedded into the paneling. Karla was hurled into the doors, shielding her face from the sharpnel. Flat on her back, she lifted her arms. Bits of debris cut into her uniform, and ribbons of red blossomed from wrist to elbow.
"It is time," she heard, and then she felt her body being pulled inward, not by hands, but by force. She saw flotsam flying ahead of her, and then felt a surge of heat as that same debris fused and sent out its energy.
"Will you say that I have no power now? Will you say that I am helpless? This is the future, Karla. Remington has seen to it, and you will not stop it. You could've before, but it is too late now."
Another surge of heat, and a computer monitor zoomed past Karla. The faint sound of explosion was sucked into the center of Oblivion.
****
The glass window on the door read, S. Remington, Chief Executive Officer.
Faith-Mari sent the wooden frame flying off the hinges with one kick. In front of her, a plush rolling chair, facing away from her, a faint drift of smoke hanging over the occupant's seat. An oak desk between them.
"Babe," said Remington. "Why don't you make yourself useful for once?"
Screaming, Lindsey O'Riordan came running from behind the rear bookcase, a blur of blonde hair and silver uniform. Without hesitation, Faith-Mari jumped up the neck level, headscissored Lindsey, and tossed her head over feet in a pitch-perfect hurricanrana. The JANUS agent lay motionless on the floor.
"I swear to God, we should've just used guns," said Remington. "I guess you got me, Agent Hopkins." He stood up, brushing the ash off his Armani suit, straightening his red silk tie. "I will cooperate with any authority that wishes..."
"You're damn right," said Faith-Mari as she closed the distance between them. A solid left hook knocked Remington on his backside. "That's for my fellow agents." A right cross dimmed Remington's eyes. "That's for brainwashing my brother." A knee went right in between Remington's legs, causing a low groan to escape from his throat. "And that's for trying to kill my family, you son of a..."
The snapping sound of electric current filled the room, and Faith-Mari recoiled, shaking violently as Remington stuck the shock prod into her hip. She convulsed, laying in the fetal position.
Remington blew on the end of the shock prod as he got back to a vertical base, whirling it around as if dealing with a six-shooter. Wiping the blood that ran down his nose, he launched a kick into Faith-Mari's ribs. "Who the hell do you think you're dealing with, honey? Some honky-tonk idiot who doesn't know better than to arm himself when a fight's brewing? I'm the one who put up a lot of those gold stars in your offices." He laughed. "Oh, yeah. Your former offices. Forgot that my boy Oblivion destroyed it all." He knelt down to look Faith-Mari in the eyes. "I'm not killing agents, you know. When 200,000 people depend on my boy, and when the whole world is going to depend on 5,000 more like him, I don't consider myself a killer. I consider myself a public servant, a friend of the market. That's all I am." He placed a hand around Faith-Mari's neck. "A friend of the market."
****
Josie Beckett woke up from her brief collapse to see Evermonde lift Stacy by the throat. With one hand on the windpipe and the other digging into the electric blue of her tights, Victor picked up the agent, easily extending his arms and gorilla-pressing her. He stepped across the gangway to its edge.
"Good girl," she heard him say. "You're up just in time for a first. For our next event: Angel Javelin. Let's see how far she flies." He turned Stacy headfirst over the abyss. Josie ran to save her partner, only to be greeted by a kick to the stomach that laid her out flat on her back.
The lights swung wildly overhead, her field of vision blurred. Looking up to the ceiling, she could see Stacy grip the guardrails with one glove, holding on with whatever strength she had left. Josie saw Stacy nod, mouthing out, "Do it."
Spinning on her back, Josie faced Evermonde, with a double swift kick, she landed direct hits on the Achilles' heels of Evermonde, and his sharp scream echoed. Stacy slipped down to his shoulder level.
With both feet forward, Josie squat thrust Evermonde and used his forward momentum to kick him over the guardrail. Stacy wrapped her arm around the rail as both she and Evermonde went across to the other side. As he fell, Evermonde grabbed onto Stacy's ankle, almost pulling her off. Josie got to her feet and held onto Stacy, trying to pull her back. Flailing, Stacy's left leg aimed for Evermonde, darting until she connected at his forehead. She felt his grip loosen, then fail completely.
The butler's cries for mercy were cut short as the gears tore into him, and bit by bit he was consumed into the mechanism below, until he was gone, his only calling card a smear of red on the sprockets.
As Stacy stepped back onto the gangway, she said, "The Archangel gambit. Agent Hopkins would be proud. Just as they say, it doesn't matter how strong you are."
"The ankles are equally strong on everyone," Josie finished.
****
"I am going to enjoy this," said Remington. "With you and your coven out of the way, who will judge me? I cannot be judged. I am the right." He leaned in closer. "Any last words, girl?"
He put his ear up to her mouth and eased on the chokehold.
Faith-Maei coughed out, "Big mistake."
Remington's eyes widened as Faith-Mari sent an open palm flying into his windpipe, sending him down, fast.
Faith-Mari reached for her sides as she got up, then gave Remington the same as she booted a field goal into his sternum. "Time to cuff you, tag you, and call it a day. Granted, I'll be feeling that tap you gave me, but we'll just add that onto your sentencing." She reached for her cuffs, but stopped when she saw Lindsey lunge for her. She glanced off most of the tackle, but was knocked away from Remington. Taking advantage of the momentary freedom, the CEO stumbled to his feet and ran out the open doorway, coughing along the way.
"You can't take him," said Lindsey. "Nathan will die if you do."
"A chance I'm willing to take," said Faith-Mari as she grabbed Lindsey by the arm and performed a hane goshi, tossing her adversary over in a spring hip throw, knocking her down head first. Her foe incapacitated, Faith-Mari went into a sprint, chasing after Remington. As she went down the main hallway, she could feel an unnatural heat, a sudden energy surge burst forth...
"How about we authorize each other? Then we can go in," said Josie, looking to her partner.
"No problem with that." Stacy took out a cap explosive from her utility belt and timed it. The two angels backed up with plenty of time as the tiny blast loosened the handle. A single pull was all that was needed, and the entry didn't prompt any further alarms.
Josie ran in first, then stopped. This was no room, but a metal mesh gangway plank that stretched across a yawning crevasse of gears, switches, and pulleys, grinding away noisily beneath them. The guardrails barely came up to the angels' waists. At the far end of the gangway was a utility box, locked and secure, hanging on the wall next to the exit door.
"Well, that looks very breakable," said Josie. "I'm going for it."
"No," said Stacy. "We need to survey the area for..."
The exit door swung wide open, and Victor Evermonde stepped into the room with the air of a champion fighter. His eyes were unreadable behind his eyeglasses, and as he flexed his trapezeus and bicep muscles were almost visible beneath the tuxedo jacket.
"This isn't part of the tour," said Evermonde. "But if it interests you any, the gearshifts below are available for an up-close inspection for all our guests. I'll let you jump over now and spare yourself the beating. I'm gentlemanly like that."
Stacy sighed, then stepped forward. "I guess it's time for the spiel. By order of the Central Intelligence Agency of the United States, you, whatever your name is, are under arrest. Release all weapons from your person and place your hands above your hand."
A look of confusion crossed Evermonde's face for a second before he doubled over laughing. "I'm sorry, but that's just too precious. You expect me to just lie down and give up? Can I play along?" He threw his hands as high in the air as he could. "Oh, yes m'am, I surrender."
"Oh, I have so had enough," said Josie. She ran at full speed and connected with a crescent kick that caught Evermonde flush on the chin. The whiplash sent him back a couple of steps, but he quickly regained his stance. He felt for his face, his sunglasses askew. He picked the Ray-Bans off his head and crumpled them in his right hand, letting the pieces fall over the side. Crunching shards of glass echoed along the iron walls as they were ground to powder by the gears.
"Tsk, tsk," said Evermonde. "Let the pain parade begin."
Both angels ran in and delivered a double dropkick at heart level, but the butler was immovable, not budging a millimeter. As Josie tried to get back to her feet, she felt a catcher's glove sized hand grab a fistful of hair. Spun around, she saw Evermonde's eyes: one pale blue, the other blackened amid a bloodshot, solid red ball. With a quickness that could be heard, Evermonde headbutted the angel between her eyes, leaving her dazed and out on her feet, being held up only by the handful of auburn locks in his hand. With another handful, Evermonde yanked her up to arm's length, lifting her by the ears from beneath her coiffure. Casually, he tossed her a quarter of the way across the gangway. Josie landed with a metal thud against the mesh floor.
Evermonde awaited his next foe as he heard Stacy's steps. She ran, fist outstretched. He ducked the right cross, grabbed Stacy by the arm, and whipped her into the exit door. Stacy slid down, trying to stay upright. With a lazy motion, Evermonde brought Josie up by the back of her neck and tossed her across the room. He smiled as he heard the breath knocked out of both angels' lungs as they collided. With a full head of steam, Evermonde ran in with the power of the Long Island Express, splashing them flat against the door. Both agents collapsed to the floor, their hits ringing clearly.
"Time to earn your wings, ladies," he said as he leisurely walked toward his adversaries. Whistling, he pulled Stacy up to her feet by the scoop-neck of her leotard.
*****
"You should never have come," said Oblivion, his skin glowing an ever brighter red. "You should have died in Langley. I assure you, you will die here, Karla. I have true power now."
"Remington's the one with the power," Karla said, careful to keep her distance. "You're just the supply. He's the ringleader, and you're the carnival geek. And once he learns your secrets, you will be the one he murders. He has killed Angel agents before. Don't think he feels any higher of you just because your name tag was slightly different."
"He saved me," Oblivion said. His features were becoming more faint in the glow. "More than I can say for you. You'd rather remember me than love me. Is what they say about absence true?"
"Nathan..."
"Enough!" The outward blast sent the fusion rings flying into the walls, digging themselves inches deep into the iron. Shards of metal and glass embedded into the paneling. Karla was hurled into the doors, shielding her face from the sharpnel. Flat on her back, she lifted her arms. Bits of debris cut into her uniform, and ribbons of red blossomed from wrist to elbow.
"It is time," she heard, and then she felt her body being pulled inward, not by hands, but by force. She saw flotsam flying ahead of her, and then felt a surge of heat as that same debris fused and sent out its energy.
"Will you say that I have no power now? Will you say that I am helpless? This is the future, Karla. Remington has seen to it, and you will not stop it. You could've before, but it is too late now."
Another surge of heat, and a computer monitor zoomed past Karla. The faint sound of explosion was sucked into the center of Oblivion.
****
The glass window on the door read, S. Remington, Chief Executive Officer.
Faith-Mari sent the wooden frame flying off the hinges with one kick. In front of her, a plush rolling chair, facing away from her, a faint drift of smoke hanging over the occupant's seat. An oak desk between them.
"Babe," said Remington. "Why don't you make yourself useful for once?"
Screaming, Lindsey O'Riordan came running from behind the rear bookcase, a blur of blonde hair and silver uniform. Without hesitation, Faith-Mari jumped up the neck level, headscissored Lindsey, and tossed her head over feet in a pitch-perfect hurricanrana. The JANUS agent lay motionless on the floor.
"I swear to God, we should've just used guns," said Remington. "I guess you got me, Agent Hopkins." He stood up, brushing the ash off his Armani suit, straightening his red silk tie. "I will cooperate with any authority that wishes..."
"You're damn right," said Faith-Mari as she closed the distance between them. A solid left hook knocked Remington on his backside. "That's for my fellow agents." A right cross dimmed Remington's eyes. "That's for brainwashing my brother." A knee went right in between Remington's legs, causing a low groan to escape from his throat. "And that's for trying to kill my family, you son of a..."
The snapping sound of electric current filled the room, and Faith-Mari recoiled, shaking violently as Remington stuck the shock prod into her hip. She convulsed, laying in the fetal position.
Remington blew on the end of the shock prod as he got back to a vertical base, whirling it around as if dealing with a six-shooter. Wiping the blood that ran down his nose, he launched a kick into Faith-Mari's ribs. "Who the hell do you think you're dealing with, honey? Some honky-tonk idiot who doesn't know better than to arm himself when a fight's brewing? I'm the one who put up a lot of those gold stars in your offices." He laughed. "Oh, yeah. Your former offices. Forgot that my boy Oblivion destroyed it all." He knelt down to look Faith-Mari in the eyes. "I'm not killing agents, you know. When 200,000 people depend on my boy, and when the whole world is going to depend on 5,000 more like him, I don't consider myself a killer. I consider myself a public servant, a friend of the market. That's all I am." He placed a hand around Faith-Mari's neck. "A friend of the market."
****
Josie Beckett woke up from her brief collapse to see Evermonde lift Stacy by the throat. With one hand on the windpipe and the other digging into the electric blue of her tights, Victor picked up the agent, easily extending his arms and gorilla-pressing her. He stepped across the gangway to its edge.
"Good girl," she heard him say. "You're up just in time for a first. For our next event: Angel Javelin. Let's see how far she flies." He turned Stacy headfirst over the abyss. Josie ran to save her partner, only to be greeted by a kick to the stomach that laid her out flat on her back.
The lights swung wildly overhead, her field of vision blurred. Looking up to the ceiling, she could see Stacy grip the guardrails with one glove, holding on with whatever strength she had left. Josie saw Stacy nod, mouthing out, "Do it."
Spinning on her back, Josie faced Evermonde, with a double swift kick, she landed direct hits on the Achilles' heels of Evermonde, and his sharp scream echoed. Stacy slipped down to his shoulder level.
With both feet forward, Josie squat thrust Evermonde and used his forward momentum to kick him over the guardrail. Stacy wrapped her arm around the rail as both she and Evermonde went across to the other side. As he fell, Evermonde grabbed onto Stacy's ankle, almost pulling her off. Josie got to her feet and held onto Stacy, trying to pull her back. Flailing, Stacy's left leg aimed for Evermonde, darting until she connected at his forehead. She felt his grip loosen, then fail completely.
The butler's cries for mercy were cut short as the gears tore into him, and bit by bit he was consumed into the mechanism below, until he was gone, his only calling card a smear of red on the sprockets.
As Stacy stepped back onto the gangway, she said, "The Archangel gambit. Agent Hopkins would be proud. Just as they say, it doesn't matter how strong you are."
"The ankles are equally strong on everyone," Josie finished.
****
"I am going to enjoy this," said Remington. "With you and your coven out of the way, who will judge me? I cannot be judged. I am the right." He leaned in closer. "Any last words, girl?"
He put his ear up to her mouth and eased on the chokehold.
Faith-Maei coughed out, "Big mistake."
Remington's eyes widened as Faith-Mari sent an open palm flying into his windpipe, sending him down, fast.
Faith-Mari reached for her sides as she got up, then gave Remington the same as she booted a field goal into his sternum. "Time to cuff you, tag you, and call it a day. Granted, I'll be feeling that tap you gave me, but we'll just add that onto your sentencing." She reached for her cuffs, but stopped when she saw Lindsey lunge for her. She glanced off most of the tackle, but was knocked away from Remington. Taking advantage of the momentary freedom, the CEO stumbled to his feet and ran out the open doorway, coughing along the way.
"You can't take him," said Lindsey. "Nathan will die if you do."
"A chance I'm willing to take," said Faith-Mari as she grabbed Lindsey by the arm and performed a hane goshi, tossing her adversary over in a spring hip throw, knocking her down head first. Her foe incapacitated, Faith-Mari went into a sprint, chasing after Remington. As she went down the main hallway, she could feel an unnatural heat, a sudden energy surge burst forth...
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
GDN, EXCELLENT UPDATE! :twisted:
Looking forward to the showdown between Oblivion and Faith!
Looking forward to the showdown between Oblivion and Faith!
Yes Supergirl, that's right its a necklace for you....What's the matter you don't like Kryptonite?
-
The Great Dutch Ninja
- Henchman
- Posts: 53
- Joined: 22 years ago
- Location: Medford, MA
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
Karla held onto the console control that remained bolted to the side of the Generating Room. Even in the crashing crescendo of metal, chairs, and monitors being sucked in by the force Quist created, Karla could hear the bolts being ripped loose.
"Now you can see the full scope of my strength," said Oblivion. "This was greater than anything I had hoped for. The power of the stars are in me, now. And to think, you wanted me to remain a cripple, unable to fend for myself. You wanted to have all the strength for yourself."
"That's not true," yelled Karla. The bolts of the console were yanked free from an energy surge, and Karla found herself flying sideways, but the sensation wasn't of being pulled with magnetic force, but of falling, and she screamed as she landed in the waiting arms of Oblivion. Her arms were free from his bearhug, but she strained to loosen herself as he began to crush her, his hands joined together just below her utility belt.
"I would almost say I will make you walk a mile in my shoes, but forgive me if that statement doesn't feel a bit awkward," said Oblivion, and Karla barely made out a smile through the red haze.
"You can kill me, Nathan. Just one more murder on the rap sheet, right?" The red haze grew thicker; the arms around her were now barely visible.
"But that would be too lenient a punishment, my love," said Oblivion. "I have something more just in store. I want to hear your spine snap. And then, you will sit there as I tear the wings off your little Angels one by one. Until I save the ace pupil, the teacher's pet."
Karla reached into the utility belt. She found the handle of the device, the one Addison used just before headquarters went under...
"If killing you won't break you, then maybe, just maybe, hearing Miss Hopkins' death throes will." And he laughed.
"You forgot to finish me off first, you son of a bitch," Karla whispered as she jammed the alternating current stick directly into Nathaniel Quist's eye. The a/c stick could be used as a gun from a distance. Up close, the stick worked tazer with far greater strength.
Shouting in pain, Oblivion released his grip on Karla, and she fell flat on her back. He stumbled backward, a wounded animal, but one just as determined to attack. He walked toward Karla, glowing arms stretched outward. With no hesitation, she switched forms on the gun and struck Oblivion with a steady current. The electricity arched into his heart, his lungs, into the shapes of his eyes and yelling mouth, into his ears. With her other hand, Karla switched the intensity higher.
The red glow weakened.
She turned the notch higher. Oblivion's shouts, alien, warped, were drowned out by the hiss of the sparks of electricity that washed over him like a flood.
She turned the notch higher. The last rivulets of red retreated into the sea of sparks.
She turned the notch higher.
"No, Karla! Stop! You're killing me!"
The voice sounded different. Human.
She turned off the gun, The sparks exploded, popping into space.
In seconds, the normal form of Nathaniel Quist, clothes in tatters, skin unburned but smoking, lay on the floor.
"Nathan?"
He shivered. "I can't feel my legs, Karla."
Karla instantly sensed the difference. This was no monster, this was no boogeyman that held reign over nightmares. The true Nathaniel Quist was back.
"I can't move." His voice grew faint, less distinct.
Her eyes welled. She had sentenced him again. She knew that it was right; her entire agency would've been targets otherwise. But it didn't make the realization hurt any less.
"We'll get you an ambulance. We're going to get everyone out of here safely."
Behind her, unheard, the door to GR I opened.
"I'm so sorry, Nathan. If there was..."
A hand reached behind her and grabbed the a/c gun from her. Another arm reached around her waist. A second later, she felt a/c current running through her neck as she took a blast from her own weapon.
"Spencer Remington," said the voice behind her. "How are you doing?"
A pair of footsteps, running, behind them. Remington spun around 180, using Karla as a shield. As soon as Faith-Mari ran into view, the CEO unloaded with an arc of electricity that caught the Angel in mid-stride, sending her careening into the back wall, knocking spiderwebs into her head.
"Wait your turn," said Remington. "Everybody must wait their turn!" Karla watched his Cheshire grin, dimmed in semi-consciousness. "Thought you could shut down this operation, make me an example? Maybe you forgot that Tachyon was contracted by you guys to build these babies. And now you're going to die at from one of them. Irony, look it up."
A woman's voice, indistinct, too far away to discern, shouted, "Nathan?"
"Swear to God, lady, next one of your dimestore hookers I see running down here, I'm going to shock the life out of them. How's that for a newsflash?"
As if on cue, another pair of footsteps. A voice, a second too late, "Nathan?"
Lindsey O'Riordan ran into the path of a shining blue lazer, which picked her up off the ground, keeping her airborne even as she was slammed into the wall next to Faith-Mari.
"No..." Quist said under his breath, barely able to say anything.
For thirty seconds, Remington kept the juice on, keeping the JANUS agent suspended in mid-air. As soon as he turned off the power, Lindsey slid down the wall, eyes staring blankly at Quist. Nothing shone behind them.
"Why?" asked Quist.
Remington giggled. "I told her she had her last chance. I was kind of hoping she would've been someone wearing blue, but hell, mistakes happen. So, who's next on the to-kill list?" He looked down. "Ah yes, time to dust off the den mother. Show of hands?" He raised his gun hand. "Any dissenting opinions?" Between the two knocked out agents and Quist, no one could.
"Well, by a vote of 1-0, the people have spoken." He put the a/c gun an inch from Karla's head and pulled the trigger.
The electric arch left the gun, made it halfway across the inch, then made a right turn, where it traveled into the outstretched palm of Nathaniel Quist. "No," he said softly.
"Excuse me?" asked Remington, his eyes crazed, those of a king trapped in a crumbling castle.
"Not this time. I will not be the engine this time," and the room went red again.
The a/c gun was torn from Remington's hands, flying into Quist's body, disintegrating as it collapsed on itself. Remington grabbed a hold of anything he could find as the glow pulled him in.
Sucking in as much air as she could, Karla stumbled to her feet, and ran out of GR I, no longer the target. Even so, she felt considerable leverage pulling her in. Looking behind, she shook her head, hoping Quist would see her last plea.
Quist caught her gaze. He winked and mouthed out the word, "Go."
Remington pulled himself to the door. "Help me," he yelled. "This freak is trying to kill me!"
Faith-Mari Hopkins stood in his path, blocking the entrance. "And who are we to interrupt your get-together?" With that, she landed a solid savate-kick to his throat, the force combining with the pull to send Remington flying into the red glow. The GR I doors closed in front of him, but the sounds could still be heard from beyond: of bones breaking, body compacting, a final scream being cut off.
The GR I doors bent inward.
"It's happening again," said Faith-Mari.
Running down the corridors, the two Angels grabbed their intercoms. Behind them, the red aura followed. "Delfina, Beckett, where are you?" Faith-Mari yelled.
A second later, a transmission, scrambled by the interference from the growing field. "We're escorting Addison... out... Owen's with Zorin... outside...We found his homing beacon...100 feet outside."
"Not far enough," shouted Faith-Mari. "Get him the hell out. We're right behind you. Make it 500 feet, and make it a minute ago."
The red aura grew, catching up.
Over the PA system, the voice of Providence announced, "System shutdown completing. System shutdown..." Then the sound of static.
Faith-Mari and Karla burst out of the main entrance with the symphony of an earthquake pursuing them. Into the corn fields they went, shoving past the stalks that cut and scraped at them with each slap. They didn't need to see what was behind them.
They stopped at 500 feet and watched the red glow balloon into a hemisphere, then slowly sink back into its nucleus.
Faith-Mari, Stacy, and Josie searched the crime scene for the next two hours. There was no sign of Nathaniel Quist.
Karla sat in the corn field, knowing there would never be.
"You were never one to show up at your own funeral. Zero for two now," she said when she was left alone with the coffin after the service. In lieu of a body, the surviving members of JANUS placed their garrison caps inside, in a row. Flakes off snow dotted the lid, melting slowly. "Thank you for showing up in time. I knew you could." She stood back as the casket key turned, and the empty coffin was lowered into the earth of Arlington.
"You going to be alright?" Faith-Mari asked her, handing over a fresh cup of cappuccino.
Karla nodded. "It'll take a while. It always does. It seems constant when you know so many people in such a dangerous line of work." She was playing the cards close, and she knew Faith-Mari was catching on. "How's your father and Owen?"
"We already sent them through the mindscan, just like Penelope Drummond. I guess I don't have to tell you, it seems more wrong to erase memories when it's your family."
Karla did her best to grin. "I know. I remember when I first had to scramble my dad's memory. 1975. The SAL had blown my cover, and came over to torch me, and found him and Mother getting ready to go the movies. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, if I remember correctly. They never did get to see that movie, but at least I saved their hash."
Faith-Mari blinked. "You had to do this?"
Karla counted on her fingers. "Four times. Last one was during the Noriega incident in '89. Don't ask."
"Ready for take two?" asked Faith-Mari.
"Why couldn't we have made imprint memories of us leaving? We've flown 1,000 miles in one direction just so we can fly back," Stacy said as she repacked the bags she had unpacked only an hour ago. "Seems kind of asinine."
"I know, but the imprints are still kind of hazy. Sure, we've put in things that are up to inspection. Dad's dinner was a gallant but failed effort, his jokes were over everyone's heads, and Owen still thinks you can spontaneously combust nearby objects with your hotness."
"Thanks for reminding me, Faith-Mari." She looked around. "Nice job the Reparations Department made with the house. Looks like they got all the bullets out and made everything look like Thursday afternoon all over again."
"There's a reason they're called the Cats in the Hats," said Faith-Mari. "Sweep everything clean. Even got the backstory." She tossed Stacy the Sunday paper. The headline: Drug Dealers Attack Wrong House. Underneath: No Injuries in Miraculous Turn; Gunners Arrested.
"If we're here at least part of the time, then it kind of galvanizes the sensation, you know? So, shall we wake them up?"
"Let's," said Stacy.
"Sorry I've been so tired all weekend. Must be all the triptofan in the turkey," said Card Hopkins. "My apologies for being such a boring old man, making you suffer through a boring few days."
"Oh yeah. So boring," said Stacy. "Thanksgiving. Dullest of all holidays. Even the football games are all Lions games."
"I know," said Card. "Go Packers."
"Well, we got to get back to the books, Dad." Faith-Mari lifted the handle to her rolling travel bag. "Cram for exams, get the degrees, save the world. All that jazz."
"Keep your head straight," her father said. He gave the smile of a father who sees clear paths in his children's future. "And someday, you will. You have the power, Faith."
Faith-Mari grinned. "Sure hope so. Thanks, Daddy."
****
Blue Angels created by Mighty Hypnotic
Based in part on characters created by sgz6
Written by Liam Venture (a.k.a. The Great Dutch Ninja)
Blue Angels: Absolute Power
Starring Faith-Mari Hopkins
Nathaniel Quist
Spencer Remington
Stacy Delfina
Co-starring Julian Addison
Victor Evermonde
Josie Beckett
Lindsey O'Riordan
Abraham Zorin
Owen Hopkins
Honey North
and Karla Lee
Q for Quarantine presents a Hypnotics World story
(if it please the board)
The Angels will return in Blue Angels:...And Hell Followed With Him
"Now you can see the full scope of my strength," said Oblivion. "This was greater than anything I had hoped for. The power of the stars are in me, now. And to think, you wanted me to remain a cripple, unable to fend for myself. You wanted to have all the strength for yourself."
"That's not true," yelled Karla. The bolts of the console were yanked free from an energy surge, and Karla found herself flying sideways, but the sensation wasn't of being pulled with magnetic force, but of falling, and she screamed as she landed in the waiting arms of Oblivion. Her arms were free from his bearhug, but she strained to loosen herself as he began to crush her, his hands joined together just below her utility belt.
"I would almost say I will make you walk a mile in my shoes, but forgive me if that statement doesn't feel a bit awkward," said Oblivion, and Karla barely made out a smile through the red haze.
"You can kill me, Nathan. Just one more murder on the rap sheet, right?" The red haze grew thicker; the arms around her were now barely visible.
"But that would be too lenient a punishment, my love," said Oblivion. "I have something more just in store. I want to hear your spine snap. And then, you will sit there as I tear the wings off your little Angels one by one. Until I save the ace pupil, the teacher's pet."
Karla reached into the utility belt. She found the handle of the device, the one Addison used just before headquarters went under...
"If killing you won't break you, then maybe, just maybe, hearing Miss Hopkins' death throes will." And he laughed.
"You forgot to finish me off first, you son of a bitch," Karla whispered as she jammed the alternating current stick directly into Nathaniel Quist's eye. The a/c stick could be used as a gun from a distance. Up close, the stick worked tazer with far greater strength.
Shouting in pain, Oblivion released his grip on Karla, and she fell flat on her back. He stumbled backward, a wounded animal, but one just as determined to attack. He walked toward Karla, glowing arms stretched outward. With no hesitation, she switched forms on the gun and struck Oblivion with a steady current. The electricity arched into his heart, his lungs, into the shapes of his eyes and yelling mouth, into his ears. With her other hand, Karla switched the intensity higher.
The red glow weakened.
She turned the notch higher. Oblivion's shouts, alien, warped, were drowned out by the hiss of the sparks of electricity that washed over him like a flood.
She turned the notch higher. The last rivulets of red retreated into the sea of sparks.
She turned the notch higher.
"No, Karla! Stop! You're killing me!"
The voice sounded different. Human.
She turned off the gun, The sparks exploded, popping into space.
In seconds, the normal form of Nathaniel Quist, clothes in tatters, skin unburned but smoking, lay on the floor.
"Nathan?"
He shivered. "I can't feel my legs, Karla."
Karla instantly sensed the difference. This was no monster, this was no boogeyman that held reign over nightmares. The true Nathaniel Quist was back.
"I can't move." His voice grew faint, less distinct.
Her eyes welled. She had sentenced him again. She knew that it was right; her entire agency would've been targets otherwise. But it didn't make the realization hurt any less.
"We'll get you an ambulance. We're going to get everyone out of here safely."
Behind her, unheard, the door to GR I opened.
"I'm so sorry, Nathan. If there was..."
A hand reached behind her and grabbed the a/c gun from her. Another arm reached around her waist. A second later, she felt a/c current running through her neck as she took a blast from her own weapon.
"Spencer Remington," said the voice behind her. "How are you doing?"
A pair of footsteps, running, behind them. Remington spun around 180, using Karla as a shield. As soon as Faith-Mari ran into view, the CEO unloaded with an arc of electricity that caught the Angel in mid-stride, sending her careening into the back wall, knocking spiderwebs into her head.
"Wait your turn," said Remington. "Everybody must wait their turn!" Karla watched his Cheshire grin, dimmed in semi-consciousness. "Thought you could shut down this operation, make me an example? Maybe you forgot that Tachyon was contracted by you guys to build these babies. And now you're going to die at from one of them. Irony, look it up."
A woman's voice, indistinct, too far away to discern, shouted, "Nathan?"
"Swear to God, lady, next one of your dimestore hookers I see running down here, I'm going to shock the life out of them. How's that for a newsflash?"
As if on cue, another pair of footsteps. A voice, a second too late, "Nathan?"
Lindsey O'Riordan ran into the path of a shining blue lazer, which picked her up off the ground, keeping her airborne even as she was slammed into the wall next to Faith-Mari.
"No..." Quist said under his breath, barely able to say anything.
For thirty seconds, Remington kept the juice on, keeping the JANUS agent suspended in mid-air. As soon as he turned off the power, Lindsey slid down the wall, eyes staring blankly at Quist. Nothing shone behind them.
"Why?" asked Quist.
Remington giggled. "I told her she had her last chance. I was kind of hoping she would've been someone wearing blue, but hell, mistakes happen. So, who's next on the to-kill list?" He looked down. "Ah yes, time to dust off the den mother. Show of hands?" He raised his gun hand. "Any dissenting opinions?" Between the two knocked out agents and Quist, no one could.
"Well, by a vote of 1-0, the people have spoken." He put the a/c gun an inch from Karla's head and pulled the trigger.
The electric arch left the gun, made it halfway across the inch, then made a right turn, where it traveled into the outstretched palm of Nathaniel Quist. "No," he said softly.
"Excuse me?" asked Remington, his eyes crazed, those of a king trapped in a crumbling castle.
"Not this time. I will not be the engine this time," and the room went red again.
The a/c gun was torn from Remington's hands, flying into Quist's body, disintegrating as it collapsed on itself. Remington grabbed a hold of anything he could find as the glow pulled him in.
Sucking in as much air as she could, Karla stumbled to her feet, and ran out of GR I, no longer the target. Even so, she felt considerable leverage pulling her in. Looking behind, she shook her head, hoping Quist would see her last plea.
Quist caught her gaze. He winked and mouthed out the word, "Go."
Remington pulled himself to the door. "Help me," he yelled. "This freak is trying to kill me!"
Faith-Mari Hopkins stood in his path, blocking the entrance. "And who are we to interrupt your get-together?" With that, she landed a solid savate-kick to his throat, the force combining with the pull to send Remington flying into the red glow. The GR I doors closed in front of him, but the sounds could still be heard from beyond: of bones breaking, body compacting, a final scream being cut off.
The GR I doors bent inward.
"It's happening again," said Faith-Mari.
Running down the corridors, the two Angels grabbed their intercoms. Behind them, the red aura followed. "Delfina, Beckett, where are you?" Faith-Mari yelled.
A second later, a transmission, scrambled by the interference from the growing field. "We're escorting Addison... out... Owen's with Zorin... outside...We found his homing beacon...100 feet outside."
"Not far enough," shouted Faith-Mari. "Get him the hell out. We're right behind you. Make it 500 feet, and make it a minute ago."
The red aura grew, catching up.
Over the PA system, the voice of Providence announced, "System shutdown completing. System shutdown..." Then the sound of static.
Faith-Mari and Karla burst out of the main entrance with the symphony of an earthquake pursuing them. Into the corn fields they went, shoving past the stalks that cut and scraped at them with each slap. They didn't need to see what was behind them.
They stopped at 500 feet and watched the red glow balloon into a hemisphere, then slowly sink back into its nucleus.
Faith-Mari, Stacy, and Josie searched the crime scene for the next two hours. There was no sign of Nathaniel Quist.
Karla sat in the corn field, knowing there would never be.
"You were never one to show up at your own funeral. Zero for two now," she said when she was left alone with the coffin after the service. In lieu of a body, the surviving members of JANUS placed their garrison caps inside, in a row. Flakes off snow dotted the lid, melting slowly. "Thank you for showing up in time. I knew you could." She stood back as the casket key turned, and the empty coffin was lowered into the earth of Arlington.
"You going to be alright?" Faith-Mari asked her, handing over a fresh cup of cappuccino.
Karla nodded. "It'll take a while. It always does. It seems constant when you know so many people in such a dangerous line of work." She was playing the cards close, and she knew Faith-Mari was catching on. "How's your father and Owen?"
"We already sent them through the mindscan, just like Penelope Drummond. I guess I don't have to tell you, it seems more wrong to erase memories when it's your family."
Karla did her best to grin. "I know. I remember when I first had to scramble my dad's memory. 1975. The SAL had blown my cover, and came over to torch me, and found him and Mother getting ready to go the movies. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, if I remember correctly. They never did get to see that movie, but at least I saved their hash."
Faith-Mari blinked. "You had to do this?"
Karla counted on her fingers. "Four times. Last one was during the Noriega incident in '89. Don't ask."
"Ready for take two?" asked Faith-Mari.
"Why couldn't we have made imprint memories of us leaving? We've flown 1,000 miles in one direction just so we can fly back," Stacy said as she repacked the bags she had unpacked only an hour ago. "Seems kind of asinine."
"I know, but the imprints are still kind of hazy. Sure, we've put in things that are up to inspection. Dad's dinner was a gallant but failed effort, his jokes were over everyone's heads, and Owen still thinks you can spontaneously combust nearby objects with your hotness."
"Thanks for reminding me, Faith-Mari." She looked around. "Nice job the Reparations Department made with the house. Looks like they got all the bullets out and made everything look like Thursday afternoon all over again."
"There's a reason they're called the Cats in the Hats," said Faith-Mari. "Sweep everything clean. Even got the backstory." She tossed Stacy the Sunday paper. The headline: Drug Dealers Attack Wrong House. Underneath: No Injuries in Miraculous Turn; Gunners Arrested.
"If we're here at least part of the time, then it kind of galvanizes the sensation, you know? So, shall we wake them up?"
"Let's," said Stacy.
"Sorry I've been so tired all weekend. Must be all the triptofan in the turkey," said Card Hopkins. "My apologies for being such a boring old man, making you suffer through a boring few days."
"Oh yeah. So boring," said Stacy. "Thanksgiving. Dullest of all holidays. Even the football games are all Lions games."
"I know," said Card. "Go Packers."
"Well, we got to get back to the books, Dad." Faith-Mari lifted the handle to her rolling travel bag. "Cram for exams, get the degrees, save the world. All that jazz."
"Keep your head straight," her father said. He gave the smile of a father who sees clear paths in his children's future. "And someday, you will. You have the power, Faith."
Faith-Mari grinned. "Sure hope so. Thanks, Daddy."
****
Blue Angels created by Mighty Hypnotic
Based in part on characters created by sgz6
Written by Liam Venture (a.k.a. The Great Dutch Ninja)
Blue Angels: Absolute Power
Starring Faith-Mari Hopkins
Nathaniel Quist
Spencer Remington
Stacy Delfina
Co-starring Julian Addison
Victor Evermonde
Josie Beckett
Lindsey O'Riordan
Abraham Zorin
Owen Hopkins
Honey North
and Karla Lee
Q for Quarantine presents a Hypnotics World story
(if it please the board)
The Angels will return in Blue Angels:...And Hell Followed With Him
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
GDN an excellent story, Karla at the furneal was very well done. Plus loved the joke about Panama. :-D
Looking forward to the next installment
Looking forward to the next installment
Yes Supergirl, that's right its a necklace for you....What's the matter you don't like Kryptonite?
-
superpics4les
- Elder Member
- Posts: 493
- Joined: 21 years ago
- Location: Indiana USA
Re: Blue Angels: Absolute Power
Nice to see you finish this one, my friend! As usual, a story worthy of Ian Fleming! Very nice job! =D> =D> =D> 8)
"I will not fear. Fear is the mind-killer." - Paul Atredes