Blackjack Villain (24 page)

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Authors: Ben Bequer

BOOK: Blackjack Villain
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“This is gonna take forever,” I said to myself. Then over comms, “How’s it going up there?”

“If you’re asking about me,” Mr. Haha said, “I am almost to the thirty-third floor. I will update you when I arrive at Mr. Tesla’s old room.”

Cool Hand was breathless, “keep them coming, bro. I’m like Babe Ruth, knocking them out of the park!”

The laser drill was basically useless. By the time it was done with the plaster seal, the boys upstairs would be overrun and I’d be facing the Superb Seven all by myself. I thought of the Superb Seven and laughed. Who’d be so pompous to name a group like that? That had to be Epic’s doing. He was a known head case and primadonna but was the biggest active guy in the states, and one of the greatest in the world. Only a few guys could challenge that title from him, like Paladin, Betelgeuse and Lord Mighty. Superdynamic also could throw his name in the hat too, but he wore a skin-tight power suit that gave him his abilities. His powers weren’t innate.

I looked at the wall, unsure what to do. None of my arrows were either strong enough to break the wall down, or weak enough to keep the whole building from falling down on me. My fingers absentmindedly rubbed over the Nuke, my only remaining original arrow.

“Fuck it,” I said aloud and punched the wall.

Influx had described my physical gifts as Class-A when we had first met which meant I was at roughly the same level as Epic and those guys. I had used my strength to rip out the metal generator in the oil rig, while fighting the German commandos, but I had never released my strength until now.

I reared back, letting loose a punch that demolished the wall. Where I had struck the concrete, there was a gaping twelve-foot hole. My fist throbbed but in a good way, like when you put a total asshole down in a bar. Actually, I felt a tingle run down my whole body as the excitement of breaking down the wall washed over me.

And I didn’t even hit it that hard.

“I am inside Mr. Tesla’s old room,” Mr. Haha reported from upstairs. “The present inhabitants did not so understand, but nonetheless, I’m beginning my scans.”

“You do that, rabbit man. What about you, B?”

Through the hole in the wall was a dark, cloudy hallway. It was dank and wet, and smelled terrible. The air was still and musty, and until now had lay undisturbed for the better part of two decades. I went inside, a wide-angle flashlight on one hand, and my other hand digging into my pack for another of Dr. Retcon’s toys, a crazy-looking portable scanner to find what we were looking for. I didn’t have built in scanners like Haha, so I moved forward, waving the device to and fro checking the readings carefully. Deeper and deeper I went, until I reached a small set of steps down, so slick I lost my footing and dropped the flashlight.

“Fuck,” I yelled and tore at my costume’s hood. The hood was real convenient upstairs, in bright lights, while trying to avoid being spotted. But it was awkward in the darkness, and it was bothering the hell out of me. I ripped it off, tearing off my mask and head cover with it.

“Guidos!” Cool Hand exploded. “Sweet! Time to fuck some bitches up!”

“Hurry, damn you!” Dr. Zundergrub shouted into his communication headset, not sharing Cool’s enthusiasm.

I picked up my flashlight, instantly feeling better. The costume machine had made a cool-looking suit, but it was impractical and ridiculous.

“I’m working on it,” I replied to the doctor, but I quickly ran out of space. I reached a closed off back wall that looked sturdy and built against the granite ground. A pair of empty rooms flanked it to either side. I checked both rooms and got zero reading from the sensor device. The rooms were bare and empty, with cracked tiles on the floors and walls, and the capped plumbing that denoted them as abandoned bathrooms.

The needle on the scanning device hadn’t even budged.

“Dead end,” I said. “This looks like it was some old bathrooms. The scanner doesn’t show anything down here.”

“Damn it!” Zundergrub cursed.

“I find nothing either,” Mr. Haha said.

“Great,” said Cool hand. “Total waste of time. I got like ten Guido assholes outside, waiting for some of the big boys so they can jump us. One tried to get into the Rocket Flyer, but the security devices popped him good. Think he’s dead, but anyways, it’s time to get the outta here.”

“Agreed,” I chimed in and started back. “I’m headed up now.” I went back the way I came, still waving the ridiculous scanner everywhere, but found nothing.

“I’ve completed my scan,” Haha said. “I’m headed downstairs.”

“Nothing, Haha?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Cool.”

I reached the broken down wall and went back through and was instantly relieved with the clean, air-conditioned air. But I didn’t have too much time to waste, so I ran back to the old generator.

Something about that old DC generator made me curious though.

“Gonna check something out real quick.” I said, running my hand across the polished copper on the surface and saw a small inset copper plate decal, something added afterwards. The decal was in the design of a pigeon.

“Mr. Haha,” I started over the comms, “wasn’t there something about a pigeon that Tesla had? A pet or something?”

“Yes, actually,” Haha said. “Mr. Tesla reported seeing a pigeon in the last days of his life. He said it was engulfed in a halo of light and he felt it a holy experience.”

Along the same metal plate where the decal lay, there were a few strange scratches. They had been buffed out but not perfectly, and I also noticed the bolts that held down this plate were scuffed, as if carelessly screwed off in the past. It was like if someone had tried taking off the screws that were bolted into the plate with the wrong tool. Again, someone had come after and buffed out the scuff marks, but I could still notice them.

“Did you find something?” Haha asked.

I dug my fingers into the plate and ripped it off. Inside were the components of the generator, and against the device was a handmade copper box that stood out from the whole contraption. But as an engineer, I saw it as obtrusive and useless. That had to be it. I reached in and ripped the box off the generator and pulled it out. The copper box was solid and heavy, maybe ten inches wide and deep, and about two feet long. I took off the top cover and looked inside.

“I found it,” I said with a smile.

“Good, now get your ass up here quick,” Cool Hand said. His voice sounded different now, worried and serious, and had that open-air feel as if he was outside the hotel.

“Why’s that?”

Cool took a second to respond, “Because the Superb Seven are here.”

Chapter 12

I arrived at the hotel lobby, but Mr. Haha intercepted me before I ran outside. I saw lights and a general commotion of people out the windows, but couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“What happened to your costume?” he said, noticing my missing cowl and headgear.

I shook my head, “it was bothering me.”

“Nevertheless, you found it?” Mr. Haha asked me.

I waved the copper box.

“I’ll hide it,” the robot reached for it and I have to admit that for a second there, I had trouble trusting him. I hesitated long enough for Haha to cock his rabbit head a bit, but I relented and handed it to him. He buried it in his kimono where it was incorporated into his hardware and as safe as we could make it.

“OK, this is your big scene. Lights, camera, action!” he said and ran out with me close in tow, his lighting and camera bots following me around for some reason, jostling for position.

“You’re going to record this? Come on, man!”

“It’s becoming pretty evident that you, Blackjack are the star of our show,” He said, walking me outside. “My latest polling shows a 47% favorability rating, and head to head against the rest of us, you’re the most popular, in particular with women eighteen to forty years of age.”

But I had no time to give Mr. Haha and his statistics any thought, and much less the implications to the robot putting our footage online despite Retcon’s orders and our wishes. Running outside, I felt what the ancient Roman gladiators must have felt as they walked into the arena of the coliseum. A crowd had formed, held back by dozens of police officers. Some had hastily designed signs (including one that read “Apogee, show us ur tits”), others were betting and drinking and otherwise being rambunctious behind the police lines. Two helicopters circled overhead, beaming us with their klaxon lights. Several of the ‘Guidos’ were hanging around the Rocket Flyer across the street, looking at us, waiting.

Ahead of me stood Dr. Zundergrub, surrounded by his demonic horde panicking from the lights, tearing at his lab coat. Beside him was Cool Hand, who was yelling back at the crowd, working them up into a frenzy like a professional wrestler.

And beyond them, barring our way to the Rocket Flyer stood the Superb Seven.

Only six were in sight as Mirage had already turned invisible, ready to hurl his mind-twisting powers at us. My attention was instantly drawn to Atmosphero, who floated in the air hamming it up for the cameras. He’d done something to his suit. It was busier, with not one, but three capes that interloped to make one big one. He looked straight at me, with a looming scowl on his face. In all my worry about Apogee and Mirage, I’d forgotten about him. I figured he’d be more careful this time. He was amongst true powers now, so he could bide his time, and jump in when he saw me in trouble.

And speaking of Apogee, there she was.

She looked different in person, taller. She had an athlete’s body, with the lightly muscled legs, arms and shoulders of a professional volleyball player or an Olympic swimmer. Her costume was scandalous, with navy spandex very tightly cut around her bikini line and illuminated purple trim. A purple sash wrapped around her waist that fluttered in the wind. Her upper body was of the same material, tight and form-fitting, covering her torso and arms save for a strategically placed oval slit placed horizontally in the middle of her chest where her compressed cleavage lay bare for the whole world’s delight. The dark of the suit was contrasted with a luminescent purple line pattern ebbed and flowed as if it had a mind of its own.

Her knee-length boots were also dark blue with the same pattern, and her face was covered only with a small domino mask. Her face was pristine, slightly tanned, with wide, full lips and a flawless jaw line. Her nose was a bit long, but fitting with the rest of her beautiful face. Apogee’s light brown hair danced atop her shoulders with the breeze.

Her face belonged on a Greek statue, and her body was a violation of the rules of nature, yet it was her eyes that were most fascinating. They were striking, green with tinges of hazel and gray, and full of rage. Like two belligerent viridian pools, both exquisite and deadly.

When we looked at each other, she glared, much like a wolf does to the chicken safely inside the chicken coop, letting the bird know what will happen if it dares venture outside.

Well, I had dared.

I glanced over at Epic a moment, and some of the others, but they didn’t catch my attention like she did. Her stare was intoxicating, I couldn’t help myself. Much like I had lost myself against Dr. Zundergrub, but this time there was no super power involved, raw beauty.

Epic caught me staring at Apogee and it was clear that he didn’t like it. He was a big fellow, far bigger than anything I’d ever seen before. He looked like his body was about to explode in muscle, and was a head taller than me. His muscular development and definition were disconcerting. Epic was so blown out that if you pinched him with a needle, he’d pop like a balloon. I knew that wasn’t the case, though, and fortunately he was facing off with Mr. Haha and not me.

If Influx had been with us, he would’ve faced off against her.

It was my second hero vs. villain group fight, and I started to notice how they played out. First, you had a stand-off, where the two groups filed in and squared off. Basically, during this part, supers and villains chose their opponents, resembling when we were kids in dance class and teachers put the boys and girls into two long lines. You would count off to make sure you were in the same spot as the girl you liked, avoiding the girls you didn’t.

Superdynamic was next to Epic, both intent on dropping Mr. Haha fast. I suppose they saw him as the leader of the group and the most deadly. In a way, he was, with those weapons fashioned into his arms. But I saw none of those super guns. Mr. Haha had drawn his rusty old katana, and was holding it to his side, unconcerned at the heroes that faced him.

While he didn’t have any powers, Superdynamic was a techie, like me. He had designed the suit he wore, which looked much like the spandex that Apogee, Epic and the others wore. It was a power suit that allowed him to fly, enhanced his strength to superhuman levels, and had an ablative shield.

Facing off against Cool Hand was Gamma Demon, a red spandex guy who I knew nothing about. He wore a red-orange suit with a radiation warning on his chest. Raw energy crackled from the gamma bands around his wrists, probably containing his radioactive power from killing all of us, including the spectators. He looked pretty impressive, but Cool Hand was ignoring him, his attention instead on Apogee in gaping awe.

Across from Zundergrub was FTL, the sixth and last visible member of the Superb Seven. He wore a full set of futuristic powered armor, glowing with some strange radiating phosphorescence, and a full helm that obscured his face. FTL was a flier, like Superdynamic and Gamma Demon and his suit seemed to thrum with power. I knew even less about him than all the others.

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