2 comments/ 4875 views/ 3 favorites Super Story By: bringosexytinger I wake up. Yeah, it's one of those days, where waking up is the worst thing you can do. It's still early yet, I say to myself. I jumble and fumble for the snooze bar on that clock of mine. Ten more minutes that's all. Do I dare to dream? I was just about to shut my eyes, dream about kittens, lollipops, and me being nude if front of a classroom of people. I still want to dream about models and Playmates, but I get kittens. Kittens? It happens. That thing you know is going to happen if you want it to or not. It sounds like two cars trying to have freaky car sex right there in traffic, it sounds like a constant crash over and over. The sound alone literally throws me out of bed. "Now what?" I grumble, hitting the floor. I try to get back on, like it's a horse that bucked me off. John opens my door and pokes his head in. With out knocking, I don't care, still kind of sleepy and I think now, I am going to be late for work. The excuse, " I had to fight a super-villain this morning". Yeah, that's sounds believable. I struggle to get off my floor. "Are you decent?" he asks. His blond hair, small nose, and his mouth moving in a blur is all I can see. I always wanted to tell him that his ears are big, too, but I never would. "Yeah, what the heck was that outside?" I respond, saving my sarcasm for later. "There's some guy outside, ripping up the streets, yelling about how he's going to rule us, and how all will tremble before him." He says scanning my room for something or someone. "Really? Again?" I laugh, and then the building rumbles and gunfire is heard. "He says his name is Quake. He has the power to create earthquakes and stuff. Just caught most of it on CNN, I guess he's been on a rampage for about ten blocks now." He tells me as he now is lifting up the covers, still looking for something. "I came home alone last night by the way." I interrupt his search. "What kind of name is Quake? Not Quake-Man? Or Earth Shaker? Any of those would be better than naming yourself after a video game." I finish. "Yeah any name would be better than that, so much legal stuff to go through when you name yourself after a copyrighted video game. How do super-villains do it?" He pauses for a time and almost lets me answer him, but then interrupts me and says, "So you didn't get her to come home with you? Sad man, that's just sad." He finishes as he shakes his head. "I was on call last night and well, they called me in. The date ends when the call takes up the rest of your night." I tell him flatly. Again a rumble, this time there's screaming to go with it, and sirens. I look at my phone, nothing. "Civilian call or the other kind?" He asks, still searching for something. "I'm not letting you borrow another red cent, till you pay me back for the last time." I state this out of nowhere, knowing what he is looking for. He stops cold and looks at me, like I hurt his feelings. "Hey, you know the rules, you can't do that." He accuses. "I didn't, because it doesn't take a telepath to tell that you want to borrow money again and didn't you get paid yesterday." I say in my own defense and turn to look outside my window to see if I can see something. "I really have to get ready for work." I mumble. I hear the screams get louder and the ambulances are arriving and still more gunshots, they sound like they are bouncing off of five inch steel plates. It sounds like all of this is going on right down the block. I look up to see if John is going to answer me and he's not there. I don't stop looking at my doorway. Then all of the sudden is there, as he appears in a blur, all ready to go. "Did you hear a word I said?" I ask annoyed. "I left right after you said 'I didn't', and I am ready to go." He answers me, standing there in his blue uniform, covering his face like a cowl and he is tying on his dark blue bandanna. "I don't know why you wear a mask like that, it's not like you have a secret identity." I say as I get up and will my case to me. It comes floating across the room. "Man, you should just go to work, I can handle this and if I need back up I will call you or the others, just like protocol." He tries to reassure me. We now hear the screams start to die down and the gunshots have stopped and the sound of metal being ripped apart is the only sound we can hear, besides the birds chirping, then comes the rumbling. We can hear this person loud and clear. "Is there anyone among you stupid enough to be defeated by me? Where are your heroes now? My partner claims to have killed one of your team last night! He is dead; one of your heroes is dead! Drown in the river!" The voice is male, confident, and really annoying with how ordered his speech pattern is. Sounds so rehearsed. I open my case and start to dress for non-civilian work. "You have never been one for protocol. Remember last time? You ran into...." I start to give him the same old speech he has heard numerous times, only to see he is no longer there, again. "Shit." I couldn't stop myself now I owe a dollar to the swear jar. I hear him from here he's loud as always. "Fight me villain! For your days are numbered!" He yells. I think, all days are numbered you blue idiot, as I look at the calendar on my wall. I'm just glad that guy isn't smart or he could have hurt your feelings." You are fast, but are you...Mpmphhhh.." The sound of metal hitting metal and the scraping it's doing. I think John did his maneuver of grab the guy and run really fast while pushing him into the ground. Should buy sometime, for both of us. I can't hear either of them any more. It makes me wonder if any of us sound like that when we banter with a villain? If we do, we shouldn't talk at all. Let them sound stupid, not us. I guess it goes with the costume. Maybe we do it in some vain hope that a reporter is there to catch one of our super-heroic and witty sound bytes? Not always. Only the big time heroes from the west coast get that treatment. It's all Hollywood out there and I used to be a part of it. It sucked, I think as I flip open my cell phone and type in a code. My phone goes all glitch-y and a new screen comes up. I select a contact and call them. I hear, "Yeah?" Oh so formal they are. I remember when we had to do the whole ID code number and stuff. Now, it's all voice ID print and telepathic switches. The old way was a waste of time, I guess. "We got a code 3-0-3 on a block east of 34th and Nestor Ave. Blue Bandit is on the scene and I am on route." I say in a calm even tone. "Omen, hold back and get Blue Bandit out of there now." The male voice says sternly. "May I ask as to why we have to back off?" I think that sounded stupid. "We know the situation and that guy's partner claims to have killed you last night. We haven't found his partner, but it's you the guy claims to have drown." The voice tells me. "Well, he didn't, cause I am talking to you Firebug, so tell me what the deal is and why can't we bring this 'Quaker' guy in?" I am so full of questions. He takes a deep breath and lays it out, "The situation is this: your body was found this morning at 5:47am in the Hudson River. The morgue put the time of death around 11:30pm last night. DNA tests have proven it is you, so either you aren't who you say you are or you had a twin, with identical DNA running around. I need to bring you and Bandit it, for questioning." I look at the phone in disbelief, as if it could stare at me back or the other person can feel my stare. I knew waking up today was the worst thing I could do. I stare hard at my phone and the person at the other end. Why? What? How? I run through my memory of fighting the guy last night, he hit me with a beam that I shook off and he complained about it not being powerful enough, and sent him home packing, cause he ran away, with his tail between his legs and I was home in bed before 10:30. So what the hell is going on? I change into my costume as quickly as I can. I use my phone again as I run through the hallway of my apartment, towards my front door. I call Bandit. "Little busy, O. What you need?" He states nonchalantly. "Break it off, we have to go into HQ cause they found my dead body last night." I sound ashamed and I think I should be, cause I let myself get killed. "What?!?" He stops and I hear the sound from the other side of the phone as if something is flying through the air. "My body found this morning in the Hudson. Didn't you see that on CNN?" I'm angry as I run out my front door. I pause and turn half way down the hallway I look at my lock and I lock it from here. I take another second and pause, to get myself in the air. Now I am flying, only an inch off the ground. I move a lot faster this way. "No, I didn't. Do you think they are keeping that out of the news?" He asks, realizing what must be going through my head. "Yeah, they have to be, can't let the public know that one of their superheroes is dead." I feel like punching something. I fly up the stairs to the roof access of my building and I look at the door. It opens; I didn't even have to touch it. "Hey, can you hang on for a second there, O?" He asks. How nice. "Sure!" I cheer myself up. There is a muffled BAM as something has just hit the ground. There are voices and it sounds like a helicopter. I hear the sounds of mini jet engines and air compressors in a constant state of on. As a team, we rotate with there days on and off. I was on call last night, tonight was Bandit's night, but in reality we are all ALWAYS on call. There is some leeway given to people who try to live normal lives. My life hasn't been normal since I was born. I wasn't born in a hospital, nope. My dad wanted me to be born in the hospital; instead I was born in an IST HQ. My dad and my grandfather were both some sort of wizards. My mother was a very powerful telepath. I didn't have any of the talent to become a wizard, but I always did take more after my mother. My grandfather took the time to cast all sorts of protection spells on me. My father was just happy if I grew up normal. My mother didn't care what I did as long as I was happy. My uncle killed my parents, cause he was jealous of my father's magic items that he had made and collected. His own sister, he just killed her. I wish my life were some where near normal. There is a blot in the horizon, as I fly as fast as I can towards where Blue Bandit should be. I get closer and the blot looks like it's falling towards the ground again. Blue Bandit's move. Run really fast, use that speed to catapult bad guy into the air, and then catch him just before he hits the ground with a whirlwind or something. This time it looks like the blot can take the fall. I land where Bandit is standing. "Highest one yet!" he beams, ear to ear. "Dude, seriously you could have hurt him." I scold. "Not really, since he's wearing some sort of 'power suit'." He doesn't seem worried. "How could you have known he wearing a 'power suit'?" I'm now looking toward the I.S.T. battle suited force hovering above us, as one of them lands. "He told me during our 'bantering'." He steps back, letting me take the front as the battle suited team leader walks up to me. "I'm under orders to bring you both in, please make my job easy and just come with me." He asks, pleading, knowing we both know just how to deal with goons in battlesuits. "Yeah, but what about the Quake, over there?" Bandit looks at the guy now in a 19-foot crater in the middle of the street. "We can take it from here, sir. Please follow me back to headquarters." Persistent is the I.S.T. Battlesuit Infantry's motto, it seems. "We will go, but he won't go quietly." I point to Blue Bandit. "We can never seem to shut him up." "Ha-ha, O, what other jokes are you going to tell at my expense? More bad ones, like that gem? At least if you are going to rip on me, make them good." He seems agitated. "See?" I say as my last word as we now make our way back to HQ. "See, what, O?" Bandit asks. "Very funny sir, now if we can just get to HQ?" The team leader tells me. I always hate talking to higher ups. I really do, even though I like Firebug, since he became administrator of I.S.T: New York, he's been walking around with, well, a bug up his ass. The I.S.T. is an international organization and a branch of the U.N. They set up metahumans for each major city on each continent. International Super Teams they call it. Then someone thought of shorting that down to I.S.T. Each branch of the I.S.T has an administrator and a commanding officer, the "grunts". From there the chain of command goes down. Sure some people take it on as a full time job, you know no alter ego to worry about, no appearances to keep up, and they get paid just like the military. The same goes for people who do want some semblance of a normal life. What's wrong with normal? Right now I would give anything not to be in this situation. I'm dead, just declared it this morning, but still here I am and able to attend my own funeral. Just how many people get to say that? Well, when you are in the profession I'm in a lot. Just last week, Mr. Freedom was declared dead for over 8 years then returned from the dead to save his ex-wife from being rapped, both mentally and physically, by Avatar. Avatar is a pure whack-job, powerful telepath with a power suit that makes up for what he lacks in the physical department. By the way "whack-job" is an official I.S.T term. We get to get away with things like in our reports. So, this guy claims his power suit came from alien technology, which it's been proven it doesn't. Funny he always seems to escape and have the same suit, even though it gets taken away and sometimes destroyed. Something to think about there, while I get a stern debriefing from the higher ups that claim that I am dead. Put in a room with a table, two chairs, and a mirror. Interrogation Room B, I think. Huh, I haven't been in here since last week, questioning the arsonist that was literally burning people down. I sit here in my costume; they put a headband on me to discourage the use of my metal powers, or PSI powers as they are sometimes called. I am also hand cuffed. They rolled the red carpet out for me! Yay! I wasn't even offered a cup of coffee. I think that Bandit got a cup, with 84 sugars, 18 creamers, and half a cup of actual coffee, that's a diabetic coma after you take that first sip. I wish I had an overactive metabolism. Man! I am just wishing for a lot of stuff. Normal life and over accelerated metabolism. I have been in here for three hours now. Enough time to explain to myself everything I just told myself. Time just to waste thinking about stuff. Then the door opens, four men enter the room, and two of them take a seat across from me. One is Firebug and the other is John St. Day the I.S.T lawyer. "Let's start...." Firebug starts and is interrupted by a loud ring tone. "Big Empty, by STP? Nice, Marcus, who knew you had a love of the classics?" I'm smug now. "Omen, there is no reason to be agitated." St. Day's voice is calming and wrong about my mental state. "Hello? Yes, he's right here in Interrogation. We are in the middle...Oh, really and how do you know that? It is? How can? What does that mean in English? OH? I see." Firebug looks around the room as he hangs up the phone, as if he didn't want to have that conversation in front of anyone. "That was I.S.T forensics unit..." He starts. "WE have a forensics unit?" I interrupt. I know that we do. "Yeah, they said the body they have down there is well, becoming mush and the DNA is breaking down at it's base structure or something like that, I don't speak techno-babble." He says quietly. "So, does that mean I'm the real deal, then?" I say. "Well, not so fast there Omen. Just because the body of you they have is becoming goo, doesn't mean you aren't the real deal. You are going to be placed under house arrest till we can get this matter sorted." St. Day you are an ass and now I'm agitated. I stay in a "holding cell" under house arrest by the UN Police division of the I.S.T. It's just one of the rooms that is usually used as living quarters for full timers. At least I get to keep my mask on, but not my utility belt and cell phone. I heard when I was brought in that Bandit was in the building too. Here I am laying on the bed watching TV to pass the time, cause there really isn't anything else to do here. This place has lousy room service, by the way. I couldn't use the phone, because they removed it and all means of communication. They left my head band on and I don't try to remove it. It would shock me if I try to tamper with it. Just as I begin to look for the remote to turn the channel from the Food Network to something that wouldn't make me hungry. I get a knock at the door. If I had a choice for me to tell them NOT to come in, Firebug enters and throws some papers on the bed. "I'm guessing that's not my 401k info." I grin and he can't see it. "No, it's the report of your DNA scan, EKG, and mental signature scan, etcetera." "So, did they get that sperm sample too?" I am still grinning and he still can't see it. "Seriously, Omen, can you stop telling jokes for five minutes? This is a grave matter." Stern, that's all I can say about him. Just stern. "Yeah, sure, sorry, so what's paper work say?" Chuckling on the inside, so many other jokes to crack, it's how I handle stress. "Well, it says you are you...." He gets interrupted, by me. "As I thought before I am the definite article, sort of speak." I say, with my hopes up. "BUT." Stern and loud. "But, your DNA shows a signature common with metahuman duplication." He seems sad. "So, I am free to go?" Asking, not telling. "I am not sure about that, at least until we figure this out, because we don't know what your double might have told them." He says. "Well, if it was a copy of me, they wouldn't have gotten anything, but a few one-liners." Confidence, I just wish I had more. "We don't know that for sure, but according to the witnesses we have they say, after you left the scene where you fought that guy, you appeared as if out of thin air, then took off after the guy you were fighting. When your clone caught up with they fought, but this time the guy used his other weapons, which were all very lethal." He spouts this off. "So, there were witnesses other than the people who were held hostage?" I ask, meekly. "Yes, a husband of one of the waitresses was picking her up from work, when she was taken hostage, she and her husband both say that you appeared out of nowhere and followed after that guy. Four cab drivers and two cops say that you fought the guy as he was flying away and the two of you exchanged words. Once the other you and that guy reached the river he used some sort of ray gun that knocked you out of the sky and into it, as told by three wharf masters on a smoke break, two miles from work." He breezes over the extras. My question now is what were three harbor masters doing two miles from work? Another time perhaps? "The guy I described to you in my report took five hostages from that diner. I also wrote about the husband and how he wanted to help me, but I told him to go. I didn't want him in the way, cause he could have gotten hurt. During the altercation that guy tried to shoot the waitress, but I got in the way, taking the hit. I just shrugged it off, I didn't think it did anything about it at all. I thought it was just a botched ray guy. After that, the guy made a break for it while I was confused about the shot. The four hostages and the waitress followed me outside after the guy flew away, but I to stayed till the police arrived. Once everyone was taken care of, I took that as my sign to leave. So I went home, stayed up three hours filing the report for the night, and went to bed..." I have a good start, don't I? Super Story "You know the procedures and policy. Good for you." He crosses his arms. His body language and tone of voice are enough. Funny, he just made a joke. "The point is, if my double might have given up some secrets to that guy, doesn't mean I did. We still don't have a name on that guy, so officially we are still calling him, 'that guy'?" I ask. "Omen, I know you wouldn't, but we don't know what kind of program or technology that guy used on you to create that double or even why he would want to create such a weapon in the first place. He could have done all that to lure out a I.S.T member and copy one of you, just to steal secrets and sell them to the highest bidder." He keeps his tone even and hard. "Maybe, we aren't going about this in the right way." I say, looking around, trying to find the TV remote. Hey I have been here 10 hours so far and I the TV is making me hungry. I still haven't found the remote. If I don't find it in the next 20 minutes I swear I am going to do something rash. "Omen, what you thinking? You think there is another reason this man would create such a weapon in the first place?" He now knows, I have solved several cases before and I just might be able to solve this one too. "I think keeping me here, because my duplicate might have given up secrets to some guy, doesn't mean I am responsible for that, does it?" I say, feeling that I am getting through to him. "Actually, according to the metahuman powers act of 1998, you are responsible for the actions for your duplicate." He states, arms still folded and crossed. "But, I didn't create that dupe under my own power, so I am not responsible for his actions, his creator is." I hope that helps, still a little bit stressed here. "St. Day knows all the same things you do now and he is bringing you up under charges on several metahuman act violations. Is it just me or does St. Day not like you? Now, why is that?" He seems not to know, one of his best friends that he works with besides me hasn't told him. "St. Day doesn't like me, might have something to do with Gold. She was dating him, before she transferred here. After a few months of working here, she broke up with him, and 3 months later she's dating me." I tell it like it is. "That was over two years ago, he couldn't be still holding a grudge." Firebug seems unsure of the things he thought he knew. "Well, she didn't tell him she was breaking up with him until he visited her and he proposed to her, at the Yankee's game, you know one of those big screen 'will you marry me' kind of things. She obviously told him no." I say looking at the floor. "Did you have anything to do with her saying no to him?" He is asking the questions he wants to know for over two years. "I didn't, you had sent me on assignment in Germany to catch the meta-hunter, Jinx, at the time. I hadn't talked to her till I got back a month after they broke up." I stand where I stand. "Is there any other reason that this guy would want you see you locked away behind bars? I mean he's got serious backing and the evidence to do it." He reminds me. "Marcus, when he took the job as the I.S.T head of attorneys last year he started this little feud with me. So, I had his car towed everyday he came to work..." I admit. "Oh, I knew of the little things he was doing to get under your skin, the extra reports and expense paperwork. The extra patrols he would request you did personally. I could see the only thing that would really irritate you was when he had you pay out over two thousand dollars of your own pay for that little incident with the strip club." He starts become the old Firebug I knew, a real person and not a cog in the machine. "I had nothing to do with that, in fact I dragged my team mates out of there including our own team leader, Necro-fire." I say defending myself, again. "True, and since you were the only one that wasn't under the control of Psi-Lord who removed their inhibitions about what they were doing in the first place, you were held accountable...wait...err..." He stammers. "See what I am saying? After that, I started telekinetically moving his car to handicapped parking and calling anonymously to the police that there was a car parked in handicapped spots. He started getting parking tickets and I stopped when his total parking violations totaled two thousand dollars." I fold my arms. "Oh, that was you? He been wondering and thought it had been. Wow. He was wondering when it was going to stop and 3 months later it did. Damn, that's kind of clever and not at the same time." He chuckles. "I thought if he could blame me for the whole team doing something stupid, I thought I would do something stupid and have him take the responsibility of paying his parking tickets. I thought it was only fair." I suggest, hoping I can leave here soon, instead of bullshitting this time away to find any clues so I don't get frozen for 10 years. "Well, it's not what I would have done, but you are a good solider when it comes to helping out and being a hero, you are one that the team counts on. You bring more to the table than St. Day does, metahuman or not. You also, admitted to something I knew already, and I know the grudge that he holds on you, but he is also trying to do his job. Before you say anything hear me out. I am going to let you go and see what you can do about this guy, before he tries this stunt again. I am giving you three days, the same amount of time as it takes to get a tri-telepath hearing. Don't fool yourself; I would do this for any member of this team." He hands me back my I.S.T papers and identification, as if he knew he would be doing this in the first place, which I knew from knowing him he would do anyway, with out the bullshit or not. He starts removing my restraints from my head and wrists, letting them fall to the floor. As, I walk away; I nod and tell him, "Thanks, I needed to know that my friends are still my friends." "We are, Omen, just be careful and try your best to steer clear of St. Day." He tells me as I walk down the hall way towards the elevator. Three days. Three of them. Altogether. Seventy two hours. Well, I just wasted thirty six of those hours, trying to talk to the all the witnesses in my civilian identity, I am a forensic scientist for the NY PD. Randal Lake, that's me. It's easy to access crime scenes as part of the I.S.T. and as a member of the police, but when a crime scene isn't fresh as a three day old stale doughnut from that store I like, it makes things a little hard to nail down. So, I had to bluff, a skill I started to develop playing poker with Bandit, Nightstorm, The Immortal, Lockdown, and Power Knight. I think it's funny when Power Knight comes to play he brings Guinness, you know that really thick English beer. He's the only one that drinks it and he shows up in his power suit. "Just in case there's battle." he tells us every time. I think he feels "normal" around us. He wears that thing all the time and it drives us batty, like he doesn't want to let people know he's a real person under that armor. Heck, even the girl he's dating rarely sees him out of his suit. That's the sad part of it. Maybe I am on to something? I go back over the statement that the wife and husband gave to the police. They were asked if they had any idea who that guy was. They told the police no. They were also asked if there would be a reason that they knew that would make the unknown assailant her hostage. Again, no. I continue to read the reports again, the husband is a small time investment banker trying to start up an internet company, his name is Harold Kenny. His wife, Lisa Kenny is the waitress that was taken hostage by the unknown man and she has been working at her father's diner since she was 16. They got married less then a year ago. Why is that sticking out in my mind. My gut is telling me something that I should be seeing, I just can't seem to get my head around it. I need to know what they might be hiding. Were they protecting the guy that took her hostage? Maybe they honestly didn't know who, or maybe they knew who, but aren't sure. I am just afraid of the husband going all postal trying to protect his wife, by hunting down this guy himself. That's the last thing I want. A "normal" going up against a metahuman. Depending on the "normal" it's a losing battle. Some metahumans call everyday people "normals" not as a hurtful term, just as there is no other word that accurately describes "Non-Metahuman Joe Six-pack". We throw that term around at the HQ a lot. I am starting to feel bad about doing that, but right now I have to figure this out. I was hoping not to go out in costume again since the last time. I would like to keep this low profile and solve this case, but it seems I have no choice. I pull out my cell phone to call Bandit. He doesn't pick up, so I leave a voice mail telling him to bring me my case to where I am at. I hope the perception filter on my case still is charged, cause I don't want anyone to notice me changing in and leaving a public bathroom. The filter doesn't make you invisible or anything like that, it puts you in the corner of everyone eyes, just a little out of sight and a little out of mind. More to the point it makes people think you are someone else's problem and no one want's to deal with someone else's problem, so thus no one wants to deal with you. I.S.T. standard issue to all I.S.T members. Now, I am truly starting to wonder if I shouldn't have put in for that costume up grade. It not only teleports to you, it teleports ON you. Maybe next time. I wait less then five minutes when the blue blur speeds past me. My case at my feet and a post it note with the words "Here you go. Are we even yet?" I laugh to myself. If anything I saved him more times than the highest number he can count to in a second. Firebug released him just before I was let go. St. Day didn't find any cause or reason to hold him any longer. I see that the filter is charged. I turn it on and walk into a McDonald's. Walk pass everyone into the bathroom and lock the door. I change there were a few knocks, but the filter sort makes the people outside of it usually forget for a second what they were doing. I change in less than five minutes and I am out. The filter only has a twenty minute charge, so I fly out the door, literally fly out the doors of the Golden Arches. I make another call for Bandit to pick up my case and tell him there's "gas money" in the case for him. The money he wanted to borrow in the first place. I was going to give in at some point anyway. I fly to the diner. I wonder if they would be surprised to see me again? I land in front of the door, just as a elderly gentleman and his wife are about to enter. I say how sorry I am and tell them excuse me and open the door for them, the man nods and the woman smiles and go before me. When you are superhero, you can never forget your manners. I walk in and all eyes on the guy in the costume. Five men almost run over each other to get out the door. Must be thugs, I think to myself, it's funny how the I.S.T logo is like a police badge, but isn't as threatening as the costume. Now I know what you are thinking, wait the bad guys wear costumes too. They do, but the difference between me and the bad guys is that I don't head for the hills when I hear police sirens. The waitress comes up to me, she knows the costume, she looks scared, and looks to her husband. "You again? What are you doing here?" he grips his fists hard as he stomps towards me. "We already answered all your questions." he continues. "You answered the police's questions, not mine." I got to keep my sentences short and simple. "Haven't we enough trouble from your kind already?" His fists are gripped tighter, knuckles white, fingers red and veins blue. "Why are you acting this way? You didn't seem to have this attitude the other night when I saved your wife." I got to be blunt. "Harry, just stop." She appears almost out of nowhere, walks in front of him, and stands between us. She does it without fear or emotion, like she talks to guys in costume everyday. "I will answer all of your questions." she finishes. "Well if you will allow me, I would just make this quick, and you won't have to say a word." I am now looking down at her. "How? What are you going to do to me?" She has a little nervousness in her voice. "I just want to read your mind, if you will allow it. This will answer all of my questions and get me out of your hair." I hope she lets me, it's by far the easiest way. "Lisa, you don't have to do that he has no right to invade your mind, there are laws." He is heard and she looks towards him. She nods and turns toward me. "That's why I am asking, as a member of the I.S.T. I am bound by certain laws." I say, knowing that the everyday person on the street knows the laws, but not as well as the people who enforce them. "Lisa, you can just say no and he will leave, so we can be done with all of this." He says as he tries to step in front of his wife. "No, he won't leave and I did say I would answer his questions, but I won't let him in my head. He saved my life before, and yours. He must be trying to do it again." She speaks before I could say anything, she's a smart lady, but I am also trying to save my own ass to here, but they don't have to know that. "I am not here to make your lives harder, but I have to know if you have any connection to that guy from the other night. If you know anything about him at all, please be honest with me, cause if he ran away, he will come back for what he is after, and I am not going to let him get it." I stand straight and emphasize the words that need to be. "Please, take a seat, it's going to be a long story. Would you like some coffee, on the house?" She guides me to a barstool at the counter. I sit and slide my mask up to show the bottom half of my face. It makes it easier to eat and drink, who knew? "Two creams, two sugars, please." I know what I want, before she asks. She smiles with nervous calm and gives me the cup of coffee. Her hubby takes up a seat right next to me, watching me, and looking me over. I pay no attention to him, because I was watching her pour my coffee, put the sugars, and the creamers into it. Can't be too careful when you are superhero. Lots of friends to be made and just as many enemies. Sometimes you can't tell which is which, nothing against her. She takes a long pause, gathering herself, looks to her husband, nods to him, and just as she is about to speak. "He's my little brother." Harold Kenny speaks softly. White shirt, tie undone, and cuffs rolled up. "Huh?" I say as I finish my sip of coffee. "He's my little brother." He repeats himself in response. It's not that I didn't hear him, it's the shock of what he said. "If it wasn't for him I would have never met Lisa, they went to high school together." He continues and smiles as he looks at her. "So, does your family have a history of metahuman genes?" I need to know. "Yes, but it's passive or something, it happens once every so many generations, at least that's what how it was explained to me. My great-grandfather is still alive and hasn't aged a day in thirty years. Anyway, my brother, Harrison, he was born with this high I..Q., he never needed to sleep, and he seemed to have this instinct when it came to electronics and such." All I can think about is how this guy seemed to want to beat me into the ground about ten minutes ago. Harold seems very open now. "So, I am guessing he never made a habit of taking hostages before?" I am trying to keep on task. "I am not sure about that, after he graduated college my family hadn't heard from him, till a few years later, he started mailing checks to our parents, with letters thanking them for paying for school. Sure, the folks would write back asking him about his life and such, he would write back saying that he had a great job at a tech company in New York. My parents pled with him to call or come home for a visit, but he never did." He is staring down at the counter. "So, do you think....." I start only to be interrupted. "That's not entirely true, Harrison did call and visit me, from time to time." She seems to have a hint of shame in her voice "Lisa, why didn't you tell me?" Harry's eyes look very sad now. I don't interrupt, I let her continue. "It was before we started seriously dating, Harry. He would visit when I was working and would ask me not to tell anyone we had seen each other or talked. It wasn't till he started asking me to be his girlfriend, when I asked him to leave me alone. He always told me I was the only one that understood him. He isn't a bad person, he just a little misguided, and I told him someday he will find that special person. Of course, he would tell me that I was that special person. I finally told him I met someone and he asked who. I told him, because he would have figured it out anyway. I made a deal with him that I would keep my promise not to tell anyone we kept in contact, if he left me alone. Two years later I married Harry. I sent him an email telling him he was invited to the wedding and that his family missed him very much. He never responded." She is sad too, looking at her husband. "I'm guessing that you and Harrison dated in high school?" I sip my coffee after I speak. It's really good. "No, we were very close friends, if Harrison were to have asked me out, I might have said yes, but he never did. So, one day during my senior year I met his brother, Harry and we hit it off. He was older and in college at the time, so we made time for each other whenever we could, but he would make a point to bring me fresh flowers every time he visited me. He still does." She smiles faintly as she looks at the end of the counter where there is a vase of fresh flowers. "It's starting to make sense now." I say as I finish yet another sip of my coffee. "How so?" Harry asks, almost getting up as if he was asking with his body. "Lisa, you are the perfect girl for Harrison, so much so he wasn't willing to steal you from his own brother, as I am sure he feels that his brother did to him, but rather he was going to copy you. But that night he inadvertently copied me, during our fight, and I am guessing he also had a way to deal with any unwanted copies. He isn't carrying any lethal weapons, well lethal to anyone he copies." I set the coffee cup down. "So, are you saying he will be back?" Lisa acts scared now and looks toward her husband. "Yes, but there is nothing to be scared of." I pull out my phone from one of my pouches, open it, and dial up the code. "I need a file pulled up on Harrison Kenny, if there is one. Give me anything you can find. Put a rush on it." I pull my mask back down, it's time to get serious. I wait for the voice to respond. "Well, Omen, he's known as Arsenal. He's a weapons maker and supplier for various countries, mostly he makes modifications to existing weapons technology. He's been under the radar for about two years, during an incident in Haiti rendered one of his weapons useless. Just so you know, Quake woke up a few hours ago." "Really? What did he have to say?" I ask anyway, knowing the answer. "When he woke up, he realized he didn't have his power suit on, so he told us he would turn the guy in that made it for him, if we worked out a deal for him. We got a name and whereabouts. Guess what? The name matches the guy you are looking for." That's what I didn't want to hear, but glad I did, none the less. "Yeah, I knew you were going to say that." Firebug is so smug now, I can feel it through the phone. "I guess you want his last know location? An old brownstone on 10th street. One hundred and one south 10th street, to be exact. One more thing Omen, we have operators here to field these kind of calls." Super Story "I know, Marcus. I was trying to keep you in the loop and annoy you at the same time." It's my turn to be smug and serious. "Funny, Omen, but we sent a team in to retrieve Mr. Kenny, and he wasn't there. So, what information were you able to dig up?" He asks like a horse chomping at the bit. "Hold on, Marcus." I get up from my stool and move the phone from my face. "Excuse me, Lisa, Harry, I am going to finish this call outside, I will be back in a few moments." Be polite, always. My grandmother would be proud. I walk through the door and outside. I don't think anyone noticed I never touched the door to open it. I move the phone back to my face as the door closes. "Ok, Marcus, this is what I know." He asked and I tell. I came outside to give a sense of privacy to the matter, even though I am sharing with my boss. To save time I won't recall the conversation, but I will let you know I had a lot more info than he gave me. I come back in to the diner and I see Harry sitting at the counter and a few of the patrons are getting antsy, looking for their waitress, I assume. This must happen a lot, it's a small diner and not a lot of business on a Sunday evening. Harry rushes over to pick up the slack. He strides to the back, as I start to sit down, thinking of what to tell them. Do I play bodyguard, hoping Harrison comes back or do I let the I.S.T. goons take it from here? He runs from out of the kitchen, panicked and frightened. "Bob is on the floor out cold and Lisa is gone!" He practically yells it. The restaurant goers take notice and want to leave, but don't. I guess they either feel bound not to leave till they paid their bill or it's the curiosity that comes with seeing a train wreck. "He didn't waste any time did he? Well, stay here and I will bring her back safe, I promise." I tell him as I get up. Man, I was hoping for another cup of coffee. "Okay, yeah, are you sure there is nothing I can do?" He asks still panicked. "Call 9-1-1, tell them it's a code 33 emergency and you are going to need a ambulance. Keep everyone inside and calm, till help arrives." I say as I hover through the door into the kitchen. That should keep him busy till the police arrive. My phone buzzes. I take it out to see it's Firebug calling. "Yeah." I say after I open my phone. "We just got a call from the police about a kidnapping from your location, they are on route, do you need anything?" He's concerned. "I will call if I need back up, I know protocol." I tell him, point blank. I hang up with Firebug and make a call to a friend, who still owes me a few favors, as I float to the guy on the floor. I assess that Bob the cook is unconscious, but otherwise unhurt. Must be some sort of stunner, I have seen this a few times before and been on the receiving end of a few. He will have a splitting headache when he wakes up. Thankfully not everyone on my team can be knocked out by a stunner. I see muddy boot prints, but it hasn't rained in a week, and it's been a nice end to spring so far. I follow the prints to the back door and see the lock wasn't picked, but melted away. Heat ray? This guy must have a ray gun for every occasion. I follow the prints out the door and into the back alley where they stop. He had to have flown straight up. Man, should have asked how long she went unnoticed. I fly straight up to the top of the next building. I look around and I find a clue, well more muddy boot prints. He must be conserving power, but for what reason? I think about all the angles I can, why? Hey, I think I got it! He needs to, because he was going to take her with him. That means whatever he's using for flight is calibrated to his weight. If he's going to carry more if he was going to have to watch how much power he was using coming to the diner. He flew from rooftop to rooftop. Smart, but what would have been smarter would be to either recalibrate his flight system or just make a copy of whatever is allowing him to fly so he could just put it on her. This has to mean he was in a hurry. He doesn't have a lot of time, since he knows the I.S.T is on him. After seeing his partner being arrested on national television tipped him off. If not that then seeing the I.S.T. combing over his hideout didn't help either. He didn't know I was at the diner, otherwise he wouldn't have chanced this. I continue to follow the trail. Muddy boots is still nagging at my mind. Where would he get his boots muddy, other than the docks? I follow a few more blocks to find a rooftop green house. There's my answer. I remain a half an inch off the ground as I land on the roof. I make no noise this way and my boots don't get muddy. I hate muddy boots. The glass door is open and there is potting soil all over the floor. As I fly inside I see potted plants knocked over and some growing out from their pots. Broken glass litters spots on the floor and it seems birds get in, due to the fact I smell pigeon turds. Looks like this green house hasn't been tended to in awhile. I float in through the open and broken door. I hear voices. Yelling, then going calm, and the voices get louder again. Then I see a flash from behind the door through the cracks. The powerful light shines. I move to open the door. I stop and take my phone out and open it. I text a message to my friend to read my locator beacon, so he can find me. I replace the phone back where I got in my right middle pouch. I reach for the handle, only to stop myself. Rookie mistake, could be booby trapped, and I am not a rookie, but sometimes it's not booby trapped. I'm not going to take a chance. I use my telekinesis to turn the handle slowly as I pull a mirror out of my rear left pocket. The are now three voices I hear, instead of two. The door opens and I hear the voice arguing. I float the mirror from my hand and at a low angle into the hall. I rotate it to see down it. Which I do. I see the hall goes down for about twenty five feet and into a room on the left, where the voices are coming from. I slowly float down the hall. I leave the mirror floating where I left it and then when I make it to the edge of the hall and the entrance of the room, I bring the mirror to me. They are all still arguing, but now I can make out what they are saying. "I did what I had to, cause I love you and if I can't have you, I thought I would make a copy of you to have for my own." "I see that, but you can't do this, it's not right." "Do you mean I am not real? I am just a copy created for you? Who gave you that right?" "I made you to love me. Why won't you love me?" "Cause I don't love you and either will she!" "All I have to do, is just make another and adjust the settings, but I have to get rid of this one first." "What do you mean get rid of me? What are you, going to kill me? How can you do that? What right do you have to play god like this?" "You are just a copy, you aren't real, so it's not like I am killing someone, just removing a mistake. I don't have a lot of time so this next copy of you has to be the last and I promise Lisa, you will be free to go." I move the mirror with my telekinesis, down to my feet, and angle it to see into the room. I see Lisa, strapped to a chair. I see Harrison, dressed in some sort of armor with like fifteen different styles of gun hanging in holsters from his waist. Someone should tell him purple, gold, and orange don't really go together. Funny, it seems as if he needs a woman's opinion or a stylist. An ex-girlfriend helped me with my costume. Black and dark blue. I see something that makes me pause, the cage lit up like a Christmas tree with all sorts of scanners and knobs, but what's inside is another Lisa, and she is wearing the same uniform, down to the chipped name tag on her chest. He is able to clone clothing as well, this is some fearsome technology. He could clone an entire super army, but instead he chooses to clone the only woman he thinks that ever loved him. Kind of sweet in a "whack-job" sort of way. I have to figure out what to do to slow him down or stop him. Do I wait for my back up to get here or do I go ahead and stop him? "Just a few more adjustments to the feed." He states, out loud, like anyone in the room really understands what he is doing. I see he has his back to mirror, but Lisa now sees it. She looks pleading and all I can do is bring my finger to my mouth in a hushing motion. She surprisingly complies. Ok now to figure out a way to deal with this guy. Now what I need...hey, there is something pressed against the back of my head. "Don't turn around, put your hands up and walk forward." It sounds like Harrison. Oh great the genius cloned himself, he is his own best partner. I wish I could seen this coming, cause I didn't. I'm a mind reader, I can't tell the future. I wish I knew what type of gun he's holding to the back of my head. My grandfather cast a spell where no bullet or thrown weapon would ever touch me, but like I said before I can't tell what type of gun he's using. Before I even get my hands up, I feel a gust of wind come from behind me. Then a hard crack, that I felt more than I heard. Finally there is a thud, like someone fainting when they hit the floor and the pressure from the back of my head is gone. "Gosh O. I never thought anyone would ever get the drop on you." He voice is fast. I turn my head to see the Harrison clone out cold on the floor and Blue Bandit standing there, smiling. "Guess you owe me now, huh?" He beams, before I could even get a word out about the original guy still in the other room. I turn to fully face Bandit, if he could see my face he would see a mixture of relief and terror, and for some reason it's the almost the same look on Bandit's face. "Bandit, I don't know how he got behind me, but I am glad you made it. The real problem is in the other room and by the look on your face, he's standing behind me holding a gun." I exhale in defeat, raise my hands, and so does Bandit. "Good, now you turn around, and both of come this way." I hear the voice say from behind me. My mirror is still near the ground and this guy doesn't see it. God help me, I have a plan and about to break protocol. I stare at his Bandit's face and at the speed of thought, I am telepathically communicating with him. "Bandit, I am sorry for breaking protocol here, but I have a plan." I say into his head, I hope he remembers what I taught him about thinking in his head and not out loud. "This isn't the first time you used this trick. So to get you out of my head quickly just tell me the plan?" He thinks at me, hard. "There is a mirror at my feet and there is a chance it will reflect his beam back at him, but since you can see things from a slowed down perspective, you have signal to me when he shoots. If this doesn't work it should distract him long enough for you to super speed your way at him. " I say into his mind. "Ok, but if the mirror breaks, won't the beam hit you?" He thinks with some concern. "Yeah, there is that chance, but I am going to take it, just be ready to call a med-tech if I get hit, cause we don't know what kind of damage that gun can do." I try to calm his concern with my thought. "Omen, what happens if he pulls another gun? I mean he has like fifteen of them. Won't that screw up this plan?" He thinks as if he has the last word. "We will deal with that when we come to it, trust me." I send that thought, just before cutting off the telepathic communication. The whole conversation took just as long as it took me to turn to face Harrison. I now see the absurd color scheme from the front and he's holding a yellow pistol with lots of lights. "Nice trick with cloning yourself, I didn't see that one coming." I'm actually impressed, but I know it sounds patronizing and annoying. I face him. I have to move slow, cause I want to see his response to my actions. In case he jumps the gun, sort of speak. "You again? You got in the way of my beam the other night and I am sure as you have guessed by now, you were never the target. Sorry for the untimely death, but if it's any consolation your clone put up quite the fight." He's laughing at me with every word. "Harrison, you can make this easy on everyone and just give up." I say, trying to reclaim some of the dignity I think I lost here. "You aren't going get away with this thing you are trying to do, cause what ever it is, it's against the law!" Bandit speaks. He knows he's not going to reach him, but he still tries anyway. "What he's trying to do?" He asks me, before anyone can respond. Too quick for his own good. "Cut the chatter, seriously. Just walk into the room. I don't want to have to repeat myself, again." He answers, before I can say anything. His whole body looks twitchy and the trigger finger looks nervous. Harrison points the gun at Bandit and smiles a crooked smile. He's smart enough to know we are stalling or trying something. I'm betting he wasn't prepared for both of us to not listen to a word he said. I move the mirror with my mind ever so slightly, just to make sure I have control of it. I have to bide my time. I move an inch, literally and Bandit follows my lead. He still looks twitchy. Come on, do something, I want to say to him, instead of in my head. "Hey, are you threatening us with a gun that isn't going to kill? There's really nothing to stop us from trying to take you, you can't shoot both of us." I egg him on, this has to work. "Your right I don't have any guns that kill, but this gun produces a teleporting ray. It is however, programmed it to send at least one of you to a storage unit, about forty miles from here, just outside New York City. I know I could shoot your fast friend there and he would end up back here in seconds, but you aren't as fast are you?" He aims as his other hand draws another gun very quickly and aims it Bandit, as he continues his speech. "This gun, however changes the target's gravity, makes the subject heavier or lighter. Whichever I want. It's already preset to ten times earth's gravity." He explains as he points with his left hand a green shiny gun with lots of knobs on the sides. "Well, that's impressive, but you still haven't proved those guns do what you say they do." I speak, with Bandit being uncharacteristically quiet, he seems worried about not being able to super speed his way out of this situation. "You want me to prove to you these guns do as I say? If you insist." He grips the green gun tightly and his finger twitches, just as he twitches his finger on the yellow gun's trigger. The "CHOOM" and "BLAGBLASTTTTTTTT" sounds almost deafen me and I can barely hear Bandit, yell, "Now!!" At least I think that's what he said. I don't even think as I throw the mirror with my telekinesis upward in front one of us. There is a flash of light and that's all I remember. I have no idea where I am when I wake up on a floor of dusty, dry, and dark, because my eyes are closed. I am on my belly. I hurt all over and I feel dizzy. There is a twinge of light headedness, a common side effect of most types of teleportation. I feel my phone ringing. I open my eyes, reach for it, and open it, as it vibrates with Bandit's number. I notice he's tried to call me six times so far. I must have passed out. God, I don't think I can even talk. I know it will pass soon, just not soon enough. Did I mention I hate being teleported, well I am mentioning it now. "O? Omen, man, you there buddy? I know you picked up and I can hear you breathing, you okay?" Bandit sounding concerned, not that weird. What's weird is the light is on and I am covered in blue dust that's weird. I thought most people turn off their lights in their storage units and sweep them out. I dislike people who don't clean up after themselves. "I'm fine I think. What about our gun guy?" I hope the answer is what I want to hear. "He's feeling ten times earth's gravity, right now. He's been trying to reach for another gun for the past five minutes. It's so cute when they struggle." That's what I wanted to hear. He talks as if he's watching over a baby. "What about the hostage?" I know my answer, but I ask anyway. "Don't you mean hostages? They are both fine. I.S.T. units are just arriving, I called them just after gun guy fell to the ground." He say. He actually followed protocol, I'm impressed. "I guess he didn't have a chance to erase the clone. Check with Firebug about cloning protocols. I will try to find my own way out of here and be there in a few. I will keep my phone on speaker, just in case." I am a little worried about this, something doesn't feel right. "Ok, O, keep me posted. The guys are here." He tries to sound professional and we all know he never is. I make my move to stand, but my body is racked with pain, not a common side effect with most types of teleportation. I slowly get to my feet and I do it without not speaking a word. I see that big honking garage door. I don't have to be subtle at all. I can just use my telekinesis here and rip the door off it's hinges. I wave my hand, as part of my physical action that's connected to my mental action of using my telekinesis. Nothing happens. What the hell. "Bandit, my powers aren't working. There's something interfering with my powers and it sucks." I am very disappointed, it was my collar, and I can't even be there. "Omen, it's Marcus, tell me are you covered in blue dust?" He asks and sounds very frightened. "Yea, I feel like a powder doughnut, but how did you know?" I'm not liking this more and more. "It was part of the report that you didn't get to read. The last time he was brought in by I.S.T Las Vegas, they made a list of gadgets and weaponry he had on his person. One of the items was a blue powder that nullifies any super power, we think, but testing proved inconclusive. Not sure how it works exactly, but until the powder can be removed, you are effectively powerless." He states this and adds a little emphasis on the words 'you are effectively powerless'. I like that. "Any ideas on how to remove the powder?" I ask, I know that he is going to tell me no. "None, unless you can wash it off. We do have a fix on your locator beacon, we can be there in 20 minutes." He's not as worried as he sounded when we first started talking. "Never mind, I won't need a pick up. I can get out of this myself." I have an idea and I made it clear. "Well, if you can get out of it yourself, it will save us time, and be sure you share your technique on how you beat the powder in your report." He sounds intrigued. "Will do." I feel a huge amount of shame for what I am about to do, just saying that one sentence. I waste no time in removing my entire costume, being careful to stay in the spot on the floor where I appeared, because it's clear of the blue stuff. I better to test if I can use my powers, I think to myself. Then with nothing but a thought, I begin to float, just a few inches off the ground. I am a little chilly levitating here in my boxers, as I pick up my clothes, because I tried to float them too, but that didn't work. I wonder about the powder. If Harrison decided not to teleport Blue Bandit here cause he would just get out of this in a blink, but wouldn't this stuff interfere with his powers too? Maybe he was bluffing or this stuff interferes with just psionic powers. Bandit's powers aren't psionic in nature. Psionic powers, you know powers of the mind. It's too bad I wasn't like other super heroes and carried something in my utility belt for this type of situation. How can you plan for something like this? I guess if I didn't have any super powers, I wouldn't have to worry about things interfering with them. I look at the door again and make the same action with my hand as before, it flies off the hinges and towards the unit door directly across from it. Opps, put a little too much 'tele' and not enough 'kinesis' on that one, but there is no need to be subtle. I hover out and thinking to my phone it hovers, barely in front of me. It must have some of that stuff on it. I check the GPS and see where I am and where I have to go. I pick my phone out of the air with my hand and clutch it tight. I think for no longer than a second, then flying about 60 miles an hour due east. Man, I hope no one saw that. If anyone did, I know the I.S.T can pay for public suppression, but I rather not have them to do in the first place. Super Story As I am flying I open my phone and call Bandit. He's going to laugh at me, but I already have a list of one liners that I would say to myself or anyone in this situation. I would like to think that Bandit would have done the same thing if he were in my place. The reality of it though is, he would have tried to run his away of out the situation. I can hear him saying something about that guy beating the pants off me. I think I have an idea. I stop myself and hover. I flip open my phone and make a call to Bandit. "Bandit, can you meet me at a rest area off I-72?" Before he even gets to say, 'hello'. "Sure, I will just follow your beacon, anything else?" He asks. "Yeah, bring me my case, please. You aren't going to believe what you are going to see." I close my phone. A few days later and many, many, many laughs at my expense, I checked in with the husband and wife, in costume. Harry shook my hand and told me he heard about his brother's capture. I sat with him and Lisa we talked about the details of what happened. She asked about her clone and I had to tell her the sad news that her clone died. I explained that the I.S.T thinks that cloning process was unstable, which means the clone would die after one to three days from being made. Harrison was trying to stabilize his cloning process. Even the clone he made of himself, had become goo, as well. She seemed sadden by what I told her, but she seems glad that it's over. As we talk a crowd of people slowly gathered and were asking for my autograph. Hey, first time for everything. My phone rings in all of the commotion, I flip it open, and smile. "Hey babe, I am just finishing up here, they made me promise to come in once a week for lunch, maybe tomorrow you can join me?" I speak and before she gets to say anything, I continue. "Oh, yeah, about what we talked about before, I think I will move in with you, because living with Bandit is just getting too weird." I stand up and walk towards the door. "I was wondering when you were going to see it my way." She says. I wave to Lisa and Harry. "I always seen it your away, Gold, I just didn't think things would get this weird." I say back. I'm out the door. "Just get over here already, you still owe me a date, remember?" She smiles as she tells me this, I can tell. "Yeah, I do, be over in ten minutes." I smile back. The door closes. "I love you." Her voice sounds so small, like she is afraid I am not going to say it back. "I love you." I do, cause I do. I'm in the air. The end.