Squirrelman - Sins of the Past 35
After a long and successful week of fighting crime with the Crimefighters' League, Squirrelman and Ragdoll find themselves invited to a barbecue with two of the world's most famous families, the Sterlings and the Majestics, to celebrate their impending nuptials. But during the course of the evening, Matt suddenly falls unconscious...
Starring!
Matt Mattheson ......... as Squirrelman
Kimmy Sinclair ................ as Ragdoll
Rick Duncan ....................... as Ace
Stephanie Cooke ............. as Blue Jay
Guest Starring
Reed Sterling ....................... as Doc
Julia Sterling ................... as herself
Joe Sterling ....... as SuperTwin Red
Jerry Sterling .... as SuperTwin Blue
Jeannie Sterling .............. as Zephyr
Molly O'Malley .......... as Glory Gal
Ulysses Kent ................ as Majestic
Athena Kent ........ as Lady Majestic
Cassandra Kent ............ as Princess
with
Derrick Wolfe .................. as Solo
and introducing
Steven Rand ........... as Showdown
my shoulder a white ball of pain the light behind him bleeding the pain the pain the glint of gold shining silver flying toward me the blood seeping into my boot the pain my shoulder a white ball of pain the glint of gold "I'm very glad you came," he says the light behind him the pain the pain the pain no no NO
My eyes snap open. Normally when you wake up there's a moment or two of grogginess, while you figure out where you are and why you're awake. Not this time. I wake up and I'm not just completely aware, I'm sort of hyper-aware. I'm on the couch, Reed sitting next to me, checking my vitals. He's concerned because there was no reason for me to faint, and my heart is racing and my respiration is shallow and rapid. And he's tired. He's been running himself a little close to the red line the last few weeks, and he's no spring chicken any more. Kimmy is standing next to him and she's reaching for my hand, worried, so worried about me, but she's trying hard not to let it show, wishing she was behind the mask because it makes easier to be brave. Ulysses and Athena concerned in a vague way, I mean, I'm a colleague and I'm marrying her goddaughter but they don't really know me all that well. Julia keeping the kids and Molly outside, giving her genius husband room to work, confident he'll be able to solve the problem, after all he always does.
My muscles bunch up and I twitch away from the couch, backflip up into the corner of the wall near the ceiling, thirty feet up if it's an inch, claws out, ready to twitch away, ready to fight or run, and I don't know why.
"Matt?" Kimmy asks from the floor, shocked.
"Holy socks, Matt, what is it?" Reed asks.
"I dunno, Doc," I manage to pant out. I'm trying to calm down, breathe deep, but my whole body isn't listening to me. Heart racing, breathing hard.
I'm panicking.
"Matt, please," Kimmy says, worry plain on her face now. I've never seen her scared before. That kind of shocks me out of it, gets me to take a deep breath.
I jump down off the wall, lose the claws. Kimmy comes over and hugs me hard. Reed takes my pulse, frowning a little. They lead me over to the couch and make me sit.
"What happened?" Reed asks me.
"I don't know," I tell them. "I went to the bathroom, came out, Ulysses said something... that's all I remember."
Reed shines a light in my eyes and checks my reflexes and all that, then finally tells me, "I'd like to run a more thorough examination, Matt. Tomorrow, my lab?"
"Sure," I tell him, then turn to Ulysses and Athena. "Sorry for the trouble."
"No trouble, dear," Athena smiles.
I get up, head out into the garden. The kids and Julia smile at me.
"Better lay off those imported beers, Squirrelly," Jerry jokes.
"Yeah," I laugh. "Canadian beers, they'll knock you on your ass, y'know?"
"No doot aboot it," Joe laughs.
I stick to lemonade for the rest of the evening. It's an enjoyable evening, despite my little display. We head out sometime after ten or so, the Sterlings giving us a lift. Kimmy and I get undressed, get into bed. It's weird going to bed before midnight, when it's still dark, but Reed told me to take it easy tonight, and Kimmy said she'd make sure I did, so there we are, lying wide awake, in bed before midnight on the weekend. That also makes me think of my old life.
"Matt?"
"Yeah?"
She doesn't say anything for a long while and I'm starting to think she's fallen asleep when she says, "Are you sure you want to get married?"
"What? Are you kidding?"
"Matt, you passed out and had a panic attack at our engagement party. What am I supposed to think?"
"Kimmy, I don't know what happened tonight, but it wasn't because I don't want to marry you, okay? I already had the ring when you asked me, remember?"
Long pause.
"Kimmy?"
"Yeah. Sorry. It's just... you worried me, is all."
"Look, the World's Smartest Man is going to give me a complete exam tomorrow. I couldn't be in better hands."
"I know."
"So don't worry, okay?"
"Okay."
But she is worried, I can hear it in her voice. I roll over and pull her close and just hold her.
Next day I suit up and head over to the Sterling Spire. Reed gives me the total treatment. Cerebral Imaging, Neural Pattern Tracking, Synaptic Relay Response Time, the works. He takes everything and checks it, rechecks it, triple checks it.
"I can't find anything wrong," he says, frowning.
"That's good, right?"
"Well... yeah." He scrubs the back of his neck and gives me an embarrassed little grin. "It's just... I was sure I'd find something to explain what happened to you yesterday. I mean, there's not even any signs of any kind of cerebral incident at all."
"That could be my accelerated healing."
He thinks about it. "Yes... yes, that could account for the lack of evidence of any damage."
"So... clean bill of health? I'm registering tomorrow and I want to be at my peak."
"Well... alright. But take it easy when you're in Washington, okay?"
"All we're going to do is register ourselves as metahumans and members of the Crimefighters' League."
"Who's going?"
"Me, Ace, and Blue Jay. Turns out everyone else is already registered."
"Well," he grins. "Try and stay out of trouble. You and Ace seem to get into plenty when left to your own devices."
"Doc, relax," I say, pulling on my mask again. "It's Washington. Least amount of costumed criminal activity in all the major cities of the US. STAR Forces makes sure of that. It'll be like a vacation."
Next morning comes bright and way too early, but Rick and Stephanie are at the door while I'm still brushing my teeth. We'd decided to go in civvies, try and stay low profile. Under the terms of the Claremont Act, we could register either under our actual or our crimefighter names. No one will know who we are when we walk into the Department of Metahuman Affairs. We just need to report to the main desk and inform them we intend to register. The DMA Building is equipped with the finest in anti-surveillance technologies, making it impossible to take vids, clairvoyant in, or even magically scry it.
"Ready?" Rick asks.
"I guess," I answer.
We take a cab over to the Action City Telepad. I'd argued against it, said I'd spring for the plane tickets, everything, but in the end I had to agree that teleporting to Washington was the fastest way there and back. Which was why I'd skipped breakfast.
We get in line for the Telepad and wait our turn. Not a lot of telecommuters this early, so the wait isn't long. Steph and Rick keep up a steady stream of small talk about all the things they want to see in Washington. I'm not looking forward to this, so my small talk isn't exactly sparkling. I get a barf bag and get it ready.
"Location?" the Telepad operator asks us, taking our tickets. Like it's not written there clear as day.
"Washington D.C.," Steph says for all three of us, with that gorgeous smile of hers. The operator isn't going to remember the two guys with her at all.
He smiles back and punches in the co-ordinates.
There's a shimmer and a hum and a sparkle and I'm puking up my guts in Washington.
Rick helps me up off my knees and says, "Shit son, you weren't kidding, were you?"
I spit the last of the bad taste in my mouth into the bag and shake my head. There's a biohazard bin next to the receiving Telepad and I toss away my barf bag, wash out my mouth in the water fountain next to it. Stephanie gives me a piece of gum.
We pick up our luggage and head out into city, cabbing it over to the DMA. Washington's been rebuilt a couple of times in the last couple of decades, what with the alien invasions and all, but they've managed to keep the whole Neo-Classical look of the place, all white pseudo-marble and tall columns.
Except the DMA.
It's an ugly squat grey building sitting in the middle of a big empty plaza. There's a weird shimmer around the place, making it hard to make out the details.
"How many storeys on that place?" I ask.
"Um... five?" Rick answers, not too sure.
"I see four."
"And I see six," Stephanie answers.
"Visual warp field?"
"Probably," Rick says.
"Well, the day isn't getting any younger," Stephanie says.
"Yep."
"You got that right."
We sort of stand there for a couple of minutes, then we start laughing. We've fought insane criminals, alien invaders, Nazi mad scientist apes, you name it. But crossing a street to go and register ourselves with the United States government? Yeah, sure, big brave crimefighters.
"Okay, this time for sure," I say, and step off the curb.
We cross the street and stop just outside the visual warp.
"What happens when we step through?" Stephanie asks.
Rick steps through. Nothing really happens, except suddenly it becomes nearly impossible to tell what he looks like. His facial features sort of shift and warp, like a funhouse mirror. He turns and gives us his grin, all lopsided and weird.
"Wild," I say, and step through too.
Inside we look totally normal. The outside world looks totally normal too. And the ugly grey building turns out to be a series of office buildings all set around a main plaza. In the centre of the plaza is a statue of Airman, fifteen feet tall and made of solid protonium. The plaque reads "America's First Metahuman."
"Wow," Stephanie grins as she steps through.
We start to head toward the main building but suddenly a convoy of black armoured vehicles pulls up to the plaza, just outside the visual warp. On the side of the vehicles is the STAR Forces logo. Some of the cars pull into the plaza itself, armoured STAR Force soldiers jump out and set up a defensive perimeter.
"What's going on?" Stephanie asks.
"I have to ask you to step back please," one of the soldiers orders us.
We step back and more armoured vehicles pull up. The plaza is filling up with STAR Force soldiers, all carrying their stun rifles at the ready.
"I don't like the looks of this," I tell Rick and Steph, and lead them still further back, toward a spot between two of the DMA buildings.
It looks like whatever it is, the entire STAR Forces have mustered for it, two dozen of the US military's finest, wearing the bleeding edge of technology's latest in power armour, designed to heighten their natural abilities to just past enhanced levels. An armoured limo pulls up and four officers in their Class A dress uniforms get out, looking grim and happy at the same time. One of the armoured soldiers steps up and they start pointing at rooftops and other spots, and the STAR Forces redeploy. After a few minutes, one of the officers nods and an armoured truck pulls up. The STAR Forces all take aim on the truck.
The truck backs up to the statue of Airman, toward where the officers are waiting.
"Come on," I say to the others. We walk along the DMA building to get a better look, careful not to attract the attention of the STAR Forces.
"They didn't secure us civilians, that's sloppy," Rick mutters.
"They seem preoccupied with the truck," Stephanie says.
The truck stops backing up and four STAR Force soldiers step up to the door on the back. Two of them covered the door and the two others open it and step inside. From where we are we can't see inside the truck, but after a couple of seconds they come out again, escorting a tall, heavily muscled bald guy who's wearing black pants, a black tank top, and huge manacles at his wrist and ankles, arms behind him, linked by a thick chain.
"Holy shit, they got him," Rick says.
"Got who?"
"Derrick Wolfe," he says, not taking his eyes off of the prisoner the STAR Force soldiers are leading over to the officers.
"Who?" Stephanie asks.
"Derrick Wolfe," he repeats, like saying it again will make us understand. "Codename: Solo? Number One on America's Most Wanted list?"
"That's Solo?" I say. "I thought he was taller."
"That's him," Rick says.
"Solo," one of the officers says.
"Alpha," Solo answers, his voice low and gravelly.
"I don't get it," Stephanie says. "Who's Solo?"
"During the Vietnam War, the US tried to generate the ultimate soldier by using metahumanic induction," Rick explains. "Solo was the only successful experiment, and he went rogue."
"The government shut down the program and formed the Armoured Infantry Unit, which eventually became STAR Forces here," I add. "They didn't want any more super-soldiers they couldn't control with the flick of an on-off switch."
"Derrick Wolfe, you are formally charged with ninety seven counts of treason, two hundred and twenty three counts of murder, desertion, and conduct unbecoming a officer," one of the other officers says.
"Hiya Delta," Solo answers. "Letting yourself go, old man. Too many donuts around the water cooler."
"Dammit Solo," another officer starts.
"Don't even start, Bravo," he says, looking back at the one he called Alpha. He grins and says, "So how's Echo doing these days? She walking yet?"
"You sonuva-" Alpha says, stepping forward to throw a punch at him.
Which is, apparently, exactly what Solo was waiting for. He headbutts Alpha, does a backflip split kick, sending the two closest STAR Force soldiers into the two others. Also, midair, he manages to get his hands from behind his back to in front of him. He does a leg sweep to knock down the other officers then springs up and grabs Alpha, headbutting him again. Blood sprays out of Alpha's nose and Solo's doing something and the manacles on his wrists are off. He throws them hard at one of the STAR Force soldiers and, although they just bounce off the soldier's helmet, he's distracted long enough for Solo to undo the ankle cuffs, get past him, and grab his stun rifle on the way.
The whole thing takes less time than I took to explain it. Two seconds, tops.
The STAR Forces are caught flatfooted, but recover. They start firing at him with their stun rifles, but he stays low to the ground, close to the officers. Even the rooftop sharpshooters can't get a clear shot.
"We have to do something!" Stephanie says to us.
"We're in civvies, Steph," I say. Rick turns to me with a grin.
"You didn't think I'd let us go anywhere without a change of clothes, did you?" he says, pointing to our bags.
"That's why you had Kimmy pack me a bag even though we're heading back tonight?"
"That's why."
"The alley?"
"Why not?"
We step into the little alley between the two buildings and start getting changed. It's easy for Steph, she just pulls out her little pendant and a flash of light later she's Blue Jay. Rick and I take a few seconds longer, just enough time for him to grin and say, "Getting changed in an alley. This is totally old school, son!"
We rush out of the alley and things have gone from bad to worse. The STAR Forces decided to rush Solo.
In the vids, they come at you in ones and twos, easy as pie to take on. In real life, they mob you. Which is also what Solo seems to have planned, because he's using them against themselves, knocking them into each other, taking them out even faster than if they attacked in ones and twos.
"These are America's Finest?" Ace says.
"Go left," I tell him. I go right, Blue Jay soars up and swoops down at him.
The STAR Forces aren't doing very well. In between kicking the shit out of the ground forces, Solo's using the stun rifle he took to take out the rooftop snipers when he's not using it as a club.
Ace lets loose with a barrage of razor-sharp cards, actually hitting Solo a couple of times. Blue Jay swoops in and tries to kick the one-man army in the head, but she misses and he grabs her by the ankle, using her momentum to swing her around and right into me. I jump up and go limp and catch her midair, we tumble to the ground, neither of us hurt. She gets to her feet with a "Thanks!" and into the air again. I jump onto the armoured truck to get a better vantage point and see Solo actually catch one of Ace's cards and throw it right back at him, hitting Ace in his throwing hand. Ace yells out in pain and grabs his hand.
"Motherfucker!" I yell and throw myself at Solo, a flying tackle that takes us both to the ground. Blue Jay lands on him hard with both feet. He kicks me off, grabs her again and tosses her hard into the side of the armoured truck. I do a backflip and land in front of him as he's standing up, punch him hard in the face, left, right, left, right.
Then he stops my punch with a punch of his own, fist against fist. I hate when they do that.
"Fuck!" I yell at the pain in my left, throwing a punch with my right.
He grabs it midair. I hate it when they do that, too.
And then, as if injury wasn't enough, insult. He punches me in the face with my own fist. It barely hurts, but it's not supposed to hurt. It's meant as a warning - Back off, boy, I can toy with you all day if I want.
This close to him I see he's in his fifties, dark eyes sad. He doesn't want to do this. It's just, he's been given no choice.
He punches me in the face with my fist again and follows up with a punch of his own to my gut, knocking the wind out of me. Quick after that is a roundhouse kick to my head that sends me flying.
"Hey," I hear a voice say, just as Solo is turning to escape.
I look up. Young guy, vaguely oriental-style costume. Long dark hair in a tight braid.
"Back away boy, I don't want to hurt you," Solo says.
"You have to hit me to hurt me, old man," the new guy says, then grins.
"Name's Showdown," he says to Solo. "I'm gonna kick your ass."
Starring!
Matt Mattheson ......... as Squirrelman
Kimmy Sinclair ................ as Ragdoll
Rick Duncan ....................... as Ace
Stephanie Cooke ............. as Blue Jay
Guest Starring
Reed Sterling ....................... as Doc
Julia Sterling ................... as herself
Joe Sterling ....... as SuperTwin Red
Jerry Sterling .... as SuperTwin Blue
Jeannie Sterling .............. as Zephyr
Molly O'Malley .......... as Glory Gal
Ulysses Kent ................ as Majestic
Athena Kent ........ as Lady Majestic
Cassandra Kent ............ as Princess
with
Derrick Wolfe .................. as Solo
and introducing
Steven Rand ........... as Showdown
my shoulder a white ball of pain the light behind him bleeding the pain the pain the glint of gold shining silver flying toward me the blood seeping into my boot the pain my shoulder a white ball of pain the glint of gold "I'm very glad you came," he says the light behind him the pain the pain the pain no no NO
My eyes snap open. Normally when you wake up there's a moment or two of grogginess, while you figure out where you are and why you're awake. Not this time. I wake up and I'm not just completely aware, I'm sort of hyper-aware. I'm on the couch, Reed sitting next to me, checking my vitals. He's concerned because there was no reason for me to faint, and my heart is racing and my respiration is shallow and rapid. And he's tired. He's been running himself a little close to the red line the last few weeks, and he's no spring chicken any more. Kimmy is standing next to him and she's reaching for my hand, worried, so worried about me, but she's trying hard not to let it show, wishing she was behind the mask because it makes easier to be brave. Ulysses and Athena concerned in a vague way, I mean, I'm a colleague and I'm marrying her goddaughter but they don't really know me all that well. Julia keeping the kids and Molly outside, giving her genius husband room to work, confident he'll be able to solve the problem, after all he always does.
My muscles bunch up and I twitch away from the couch, backflip up into the corner of the wall near the ceiling, thirty feet up if it's an inch, claws out, ready to twitch away, ready to fight or run, and I don't know why.
"Matt?" Kimmy asks from the floor, shocked.
"Holy socks, Matt, what is it?" Reed asks.
"I dunno, Doc," I manage to pant out. I'm trying to calm down, breathe deep, but my whole body isn't listening to me. Heart racing, breathing hard.
I'm panicking.
"Matt, please," Kimmy says, worry plain on her face now. I've never seen her scared before. That kind of shocks me out of it, gets me to take a deep breath.
I jump down off the wall, lose the claws. Kimmy comes over and hugs me hard. Reed takes my pulse, frowning a little. They lead me over to the couch and make me sit.
"What happened?" Reed asks me.
"I don't know," I tell them. "I went to the bathroom, came out, Ulysses said something... that's all I remember."
Reed shines a light in my eyes and checks my reflexes and all that, then finally tells me, "I'd like to run a more thorough examination, Matt. Tomorrow, my lab?"
"Sure," I tell him, then turn to Ulysses and Athena. "Sorry for the trouble."
"No trouble, dear," Athena smiles.
I get up, head out into the garden. The kids and Julia smile at me.
"Better lay off those imported beers, Squirrelly," Jerry jokes.
"Yeah," I laugh. "Canadian beers, they'll knock you on your ass, y'know?"
"No doot aboot it," Joe laughs.
I stick to lemonade for the rest of the evening. It's an enjoyable evening, despite my little display. We head out sometime after ten or so, the Sterlings giving us a lift. Kimmy and I get undressed, get into bed. It's weird going to bed before midnight, when it's still dark, but Reed told me to take it easy tonight, and Kimmy said she'd make sure I did, so there we are, lying wide awake, in bed before midnight on the weekend. That also makes me think of my old life.
"Matt?"
"Yeah?"
She doesn't say anything for a long while and I'm starting to think she's fallen asleep when she says, "Are you sure you want to get married?"
"What? Are you kidding?"
"Matt, you passed out and had a panic attack at our engagement party. What am I supposed to think?"
"Kimmy, I don't know what happened tonight, but it wasn't because I don't want to marry you, okay? I already had the ring when you asked me, remember?"
Long pause.
"Kimmy?"
"Yeah. Sorry. It's just... you worried me, is all."
"Look, the World's Smartest Man is going to give me a complete exam tomorrow. I couldn't be in better hands."
"I know."
"So don't worry, okay?"
"Okay."
But she is worried, I can hear it in her voice. I roll over and pull her close and just hold her.
Next day I suit up and head over to the Sterling Spire. Reed gives me the total treatment. Cerebral Imaging, Neural Pattern Tracking, Synaptic Relay Response Time, the works. He takes everything and checks it, rechecks it, triple checks it.
"I can't find anything wrong," he says, frowning.
"That's good, right?"
"Well... yeah." He scrubs the back of his neck and gives me an embarrassed little grin. "It's just... I was sure I'd find something to explain what happened to you yesterday. I mean, there's not even any signs of any kind of cerebral incident at all."
"That could be my accelerated healing."
He thinks about it. "Yes... yes, that could account for the lack of evidence of any damage."
"So... clean bill of health? I'm registering tomorrow and I want to be at my peak."
"Well... alright. But take it easy when you're in Washington, okay?"
"All we're going to do is register ourselves as metahumans and members of the Crimefighters' League."
"Who's going?"
"Me, Ace, and Blue Jay. Turns out everyone else is already registered."
"Well," he grins. "Try and stay out of trouble. You and Ace seem to get into plenty when left to your own devices."
"Doc, relax," I say, pulling on my mask again. "It's Washington. Least amount of costumed criminal activity in all the major cities of the US. STAR Forces makes sure of that. It'll be like a vacation."
Next morning comes bright and way too early, but Rick and Stephanie are at the door while I'm still brushing my teeth. We'd decided to go in civvies, try and stay low profile. Under the terms of the Claremont Act, we could register either under our actual or our crimefighter names. No one will know who we are when we walk into the Department of Metahuman Affairs. We just need to report to the main desk and inform them we intend to register. The DMA Building is equipped with the finest in anti-surveillance technologies, making it impossible to take vids, clairvoyant in, or even magically scry it.
"Ready?" Rick asks.
"I guess," I answer.
We take a cab over to the Action City Telepad. I'd argued against it, said I'd spring for the plane tickets, everything, but in the end I had to agree that teleporting to Washington was the fastest way there and back. Which was why I'd skipped breakfast.
We get in line for the Telepad and wait our turn. Not a lot of telecommuters this early, so the wait isn't long. Steph and Rick keep up a steady stream of small talk about all the things they want to see in Washington. I'm not looking forward to this, so my small talk isn't exactly sparkling. I get a barf bag and get it ready.
"Location?" the Telepad operator asks us, taking our tickets. Like it's not written there clear as day.
"Washington D.C.," Steph says for all three of us, with that gorgeous smile of hers. The operator isn't going to remember the two guys with her at all.
He smiles back and punches in the co-ordinates.
There's a shimmer and a hum and a sparkle and I'm puking up my guts in Washington.
Rick helps me up off my knees and says, "Shit son, you weren't kidding, were you?"
I spit the last of the bad taste in my mouth into the bag and shake my head. There's a biohazard bin next to the receiving Telepad and I toss away my barf bag, wash out my mouth in the water fountain next to it. Stephanie gives me a piece of gum.
We pick up our luggage and head out into city, cabbing it over to the DMA. Washington's been rebuilt a couple of times in the last couple of decades, what with the alien invasions and all, but they've managed to keep the whole Neo-Classical look of the place, all white pseudo-marble and tall columns.
Except the DMA.
It's an ugly squat grey building sitting in the middle of a big empty plaza. There's a weird shimmer around the place, making it hard to make out the details.
"How many storeys on that place?" I ask.
"Um... five?" Rick answers, not too sure.
"I see four."
"And I see six," Stephanie answers.
"Visual warp field?"
"Probably," Rick says.
"Well, the day isn't getting any younger," Stephanie says.
"Yep."
"You got that right."
We sort of stand there for a couple of minutes, then we start laughing. We've fought insane criminals, alien invaders, Nazi mad scientist apes, you name it. But crossing a street to go and register ourselves with the United States government? Yeah, sure, big brave crimefighters.
"Okay, this time for sure," I say, and step off the curb.
We cross the street and stop just outside the visual warp.
"What happens when we step through?" Stephanie asks.
Rick steps through. Nothing really happens, except suddenly it becomes nearly impossible to tell what he looks like. His facial features sort of shift and warp, like a funhouse mirror. He turns and gives us his grin, all lopsided and weird.
"Wild," I say, and step through too.
Inside we look totally normal. The outside world looks totally normal too. And the ugly grey building turns out to be a series of office buildings all set around a main plaza. In the centre of the plaza is a statue of Airman, fifteen feet tall and made of solid protonium. The plaque reads "America's First Metahuman."
"Wow," Stephanie grins as she steps through.
We start to head toward the main building but suddenly a convoy of black armoured vehicles pulls up to the plaza, just outside the visual warp. On the side of the vehicles is the STAR Forces logo. Some of the cars pull into the plaza itself, armoured STAR Force soldiers jump out and set up a defensive perimeter.
"What's going on?" Stephanie asks.
"I have to ask you to step back please," one of the soldiers orders us.
We step back and more armoured vehicles pull up. The plaza is filling up with STAR Force soldiers, all carrying their stun rifles at the ready.
"I don't like the looks of this," I tell Rick and Steph, and lead them still further back, toward a spot between two of the DMA buildings.
It looks like whatever it is, the entire STAR Forces have mustered for it, two dozen of the US military's finest, wearing the bleeding edge of technology's latest in power armour, designed to heighten their natural abilities to just past enhanced levels. An armoured limo pulls up and four officers in their Class A dress uniforms get out, looking grim and happy at the same time. One of the armoured soldiers steps up and they start pointing at rooftops and other spots, and the STAR Forces redeploy. After a few minutes, one of the officers nods and an armoured truck pulls up. The STAR Forces all take aim on the truck.
The truck backs up to the statue of Airman, toward where the officers are waiting.
"Come on," I say to the others. We walk along the DMA building to get a better look, careful not to attract the attention of the STAR Forces.
"They didn't secure us civilians, that's sloppy," Rick mutters.
"They seem preoccupied with the truck," Stephanie says.
The truck stops backing up and four STAR Force soldiers step up to the door on the back. Two of them covered the door and the two others open it and step inside. From where we are we can't see inside the truck, but after a couple of seconds they come out again, escorting a tall, heavily muscled bald guy who's wearing black pants, a black tank top, and huge manacles at his wrist and ankles, arms behind him, linked by a thick chain.
"Holy shit, they got him," Rick says.
"Got who?"
"Derrick Wolfe," he says, not taking his eyes off of the prisoner the STAR Force soldiers are leading over to the officers.
"Who?" Stephanie asks.
"Derrick Wolfe," he repeats, like saying it again will make us understand. "Codename: Solo? Number One on America's Most Wanted list?"
"That's Solo?" I say. "I thought he was taller."
"That's him," Rick says.
"Solo," one of the officers says.
"Alpha," Solo answers, his voice low and gravelly.
"I don't get it," Stephanie says. "Who's Solo?"
"During the Vietnam War, the US tried to generate the ultimate soldier by using metahumanic induction," Rick explains. "Solo was the only successful experiment, and he went rogue."
"The government shut down the program and formed the Armoured Infantry Unit, which eventually became STAR Forces here," I add. "They didn't want any more super-soldiers they couldn't control with the flick of an on-off switch."
"Derrick Wolfe, you are formally charged with ninety seven counts of treason, two hundred and twenty three counts of murder, desertion, and conduct unbecoming a officer," one of the other officers says.
"Hiya Delta," Solo answers. "Letting yourself go, old man. Too many donuts around the water cooler."
"Dammit Solo," another officer starts.
"Don't even start, Bravo," he says, looking back at the one he called Alpha. He grins and says, "So how's Echo doing these days? She walking yet?"
"You sonuva-" Alpha says, stepping forward to throw a punch at him.
Which is, apparently, exactly what Solo was waiting for. He headbutts Alpha, does a backflip split kick, sending the two closest STAR Force soldiers into the two others. Also, midair, he manages to get his hands from behind his back to in front of him. He does a leg sweep to knock down the other officers then springs up and grabs Alpha, headbutting him again. Blood sprays out of Alpha's nose and Solo's doing something and the manacles on his wrists are off. He throws them hard at one of the STAR Force soldiers and, although they just bounce off the soldier's helmet, he's distracted long enough for Solo to undo the ankle cuffs, get past him, and grab his stun rifle on the way.
The whole thing takes less time than I took to explain it. Two seconds, tops.
The STAR Forces are caught flatfooted, but recover. They start firing at him with their stun rifles, but he stays low to the ground, close to the officers. Even the rooftop sharpshooters can't get a clear shot.
"We have to do something!" Stephanie says to us.
"We're in civvies, Steph," I say. Rick turns to me with a grin.
"You didn't think I'd let us go anywhere without a change of clothes, did you?" he says, pointing to our bags.
"That's why you had Kimmy pack me a bag even though we're heading back tonight?"
"That's why."
"The alley?"
"Why not?"
We step into the little alley between the two buildings and start getting changed. It's easy for Steph, she just pulls out her little pendant and a flash of light later she's Blue Jay. Rick and I take a few seconds longer, just enough time for him to grin and say, "Getting changed in an alley. This is totally old school, son!"
We rush out of the alley and things have gone from bad to worse. The STAR Forces decided to rush Solo.
In the vids, they come at you in ones and twos, easy as pie to take on. In real life, they mob you. Which is also what Solo seems to have planned, because he's using them against themselves, knocking them into each other, taking them out even faster than if they attacked in ones and twos.
"These are America's Finest?" Ace says.
"Go left," I tell him. I go right, Blue Jay soars up and swoops down at him.
The STAR Forces aren't doing very well. In between kicking the shit out of the ground forces, Solo's using the stun rifle he took to take out the rooftop snipers when he's not using it as a club.
Ace lets loose with a barrage of razor-sharp cards, actually hitting Solo a couple of times. Blue Jay swoops in and tries to kick the one-man army in the head, but she misses and he grabs her by the ankle, using her momentum to swing her around and right into me. I jump up and go limp and catch her midair, we tumble to the ground, neither of us hurt. She gets to her feet with a "Thanks!" and into the air again. I jump onto the armoured truck to get a better vantage point and see Solo actually catch one of Ace's cards and throw it right back at him, hitting Ace in his throwing hand. Ace yells out in pain and grabs his hand.
"Motherfucker!" I yell and throw myself at Solo, a flying tackle that takes us both to the ground. Blue Jay lands on him hard with both feet. He kicks me off, grabs her again and tosses her hard into the side of the armoured truck. I do a backflip and land in front of him as he's standing up, punch him hard in the face, left, right, left, right.
Then he stops my punch with a punch of his own, fist against fist. I hate when they do that.
"Fuck!" I yell at the pain in my left, throwing a punch with my right.
He grabs it midair. I hate it when they do that, too.
And then, as if injury wasn't enough, insult. He punches me in the face with my own fist. It barely hurts, but it's not supposed to hurt. It's meant as a warning - Back off, boy, I can toy with you all day if I want.
This close to him I see he's in his fifties, dark eyes sad. He doesn't want to do this. It's just, he's been given no choice.
He punches me in the face with my fist again and follows up with a punch of his own to my gut, knocking the wind out of me. Quick after that is a roundhouse kick to my head that sends me flying.
"Hey," I hear a voice say, just as Solo is turning to escape.
I look up. Young guy, vaguely oriental-style costume. Long dark hair in a tight braid.
"Back away boy, I don't want to hurt you," Solo says.
"You have to hit me to hurt me, old man," the new guy says, then grins.
"Name's Showdown," he says to Solo. "I'm gonna kick your ass."
t!