No Master Plan Here (Madness Runs in the Family) (14 page)

             
“Korean Thunder was a Class five Blaster type. The NK is still showing footage of him in propaganda shots, but South Korea hasn't reported any sightings of him in three weeks.” Stone's hushed tone bore a measure of fear as he looked at Anansi scheming with his AI. Denise understood what he meant. The only reason Korean Thunder hadn't been an issue was because of Gravity, South Korea's own Class five super. The two had gone toe to toe, figuratively speaking, out at sea, and the battle had caused several billion dollars worth of damage from the tidal waves that washed into the Koreas, China, and southern Japan. The fight was a stalemate, neither the electricity wielding Korean Thunder or Gravity being able to gain an upper hand.

             
And Anansi was saying he had killed him as if it was nothing.

             
If it was true, Anansi's power estimate of Class three, which was already dubious at best considering he was supposed to be able to take on the Class four Archangel, was a gross underestimation.

             
Denise suddenly felt very small.

-~-~-

              Anansi had finished finalizing his core loadout for the mission with Kay when Mantis came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Can we talk?” she said. She shot a glance over his shoulder to Kay's hologram. “Alone?”

             
Anansi shrugged, his temper having cooled from his earlier outburst to a manageable level. He gestured towards his room and walked from the central chamber. The door hissed open as he walked through and shut again once Mantis had come through. Anansi walked to the desk that took up a portion of one wall and sat in the office chair in front of it.

             
“What did you want to talk to me about?” Anansi leaned back in the chair and kicked his booted feet up onto the desk. Denise paused, focusing her mind to better use her truth finding.

             
“Were you serious about Korean Thunder?”

             
“Yes.” He hadn't hesitated, hadn't even considered it. He was not ashamed. Based on what Anansi had said about the man, Denise might have wanted to kill Korean Thunder as well, given the opportunity. She would have preferred he face some sort of justice, but there was currently no feasible way to contain Class fives. They had power equivalent to serious natural disasters in most cases.

             
“Have you killed other people in the past few years?”

             
“A few. Nobody that didn't deserve it.” Truth.

             
“Why?”

             
“They were horrible people. They deserved no better. Maybe I shouldn't judge other people, but someone should.” Anansi set his feet down on the floor, leaning forward and hanging his hands between his spread legs as he held Denise's gaze. She felt nothing but truth from him, and couldn't find a reason to argue with him.

             
“Who?”

             
Anansi told her, telling the story of three years of stalking, planning, and death. He had started small, with norms and had moved on to supers somewhere in year two. Korean Thunder was the most recent and by far the most powerful. Criminals, murderers, politicians. He counted dozens while Denise listened.

             
Denise walked to the bed and sat down, considering Anansi. He hadn't been lying when he said he had changed, coldly and calmly telling her of the deaths he had orchestrated, and yet, a part of him remained. She saw his posture change as he spoke, like a weight was lifting off of his shoulders in the telling, and once he was finally finished, she shook her head with a sad smile.

             
“You're right,” she said. Anansi tilted his head to the right, something he did whenever he was unsure or questioning something.

             
“You have changed,” she continued as she stood. She crossed the distance between them and placed a hand on his shoulder. Anansi looked up at her, surprised by the contact. “But you're still you under all that. I'm going to go take a shower before we take off.” She patted him on the shoulder and left the room, leaving Anansi behind with a look of confusion on his face.

Chapter 14

              June 12, 2017

              The Cicada touched down on the helipad of the Seascape Research facility, waited for its occupants to disembark, then took off again. Anansi allowed Mantis to lead the way to the door, where several lab coat-wearing men stood with several men in blue uniforms with handguns on their hips.

             
“Afternoon, gentlemen,” Denise called as she approached, holding her badge out in front of her, her submachine gun slung across her chest, a duffel bag slung across one shoulder. “I'm Agent Sanders, Codename Mantis, from SHIP.”

             
“Frederick Galle.” The main was short and fat, brown hair cut short and balding. He stood at the front and middle, and his security badge confirmed what he said and that he was the head of research here. His arms were crossed across his chest, and he wore an expression of irritation. “We spoke on the phone with your boss, Agent Doyle, a few minutes ago. He said you would explain the situation.”

             
Mantis nodded. She gestured to the door. “May we speak inside?”

             
“Until I am appraised and know who your colleagues are, no.” The man had a face that reminded Anansi of a toad. Kay sent a message agreeing and used her end of the link to exaggerate his facial features just enough that he looked like a frog, complete with a bulging throat. Anansi stifled a chuckle, glad his helmet speakers were off. He shrugged his shoulder to better hold the duffel on his shoulder, even though he barely felt the weight with his armor on.

             
Mantis shrugged. She stepped to one side, gesturing behind her. “With me is Agent Lopez, Codename Stone, also of SHIP, and Anansi. We-”

             
“Anansi?
The
Anansi?” Galle interrupted, paling considerably. He took a step back between his colleagues as the security guards stepped forward, hands on their pistols. “He can't come in. This is all classified research and not only could he steal it, he-”

             
“Is currently in our custody.” Mantis cut back in, moving her hand to rest on the grip of her weapon. Galle looked about to protest again when Mantis continued. “And is crucial in preventing your facility from being successfully raided by a Class Four Works intent on stealing SX-203, so unless you are equipped to handle a threat of that caliber, I suggest you give us access to your building and start preparing your people for evacuation.”

             
Sufficiently cowed, Galle stepped aside, allowing the agents to pass. Anansi paused, looming over the shorter man. He crouched down to put his head on Galle's level and adjusted his lab coat for him. “So who's bright idea was SX-203, anyways?” Galle began to sputter a response when Mantis' voice interrupted.

             
“Anansi, get in here and stop tormenting the poor man. We need to set up.”

             
Anansi chuckled and patted Galle on the shoulder, standing back up. “Don't worry, froggy, I'll keep the destruction to a minimal.” He followed after Mantis, leaving the flustered scientist to his guards.

             
Mantis shook her head at him as he walked past her, her stance showing amusement over irritation or disappointment with his behavior. She let the door swing shut behind them and began following after him, holding on to the bag of tricks that matched his. “Did he look like a frog to you?”

             
“Straight out of Spirited Away,” Anansi replied, eliciting a laugh from both of them. They stopped in the middle of the hallway, letting the duffels slip to the ground simultaneously, and opened them, beginning the trap setting.

-~-~-

              “Here they come,” Anansi said, looking into the sky. Denise looked up and saw only clouds for several more seconds before she saw the bright light that had to be Spark. Archangel's dark form and massive wings came into vision moments later. The two flew in formation straight towards the landing zone of Seascape Research. Anansi nodded and turned towards the door. “They'll be in momentarily. We should head inside.”

             
Denise nodded and followed him through the doors into the lobby. She and Anansi had dragged a couch from Galle's office and set it up in the end of the lobby, against the wall where it split into a T intersection and went down separate hallways. She had asked why at the time, and the only explanation that he had given was “Theatrics.” When no further information had been forthcoming, she had stopped asking, but the question still burned her. He had told Stone to wait in one of the larger laboratories with the Faraday cage trap they had set up for Spark. The plan was for them to split Spark and Archangel up, with Spark chasing Denise and Archangel chasing Anansi. Anansi had said to leave that all to him.

             
Denise couldn't help but wonder what he had in mind.

             
Anansi plopped down on the couch, spreading his duster out so that the large coat covered much of the couch and patted the cushion beside him. Denise sat down to the right of where he had indicated, keeping an arms span distance between them. Anansi shrugged, kicked one foot up atop the other knee, spread his arms across the back of the couch, and waited. He started humming the tune to “It's A Small World.” Denise began to grit her teeth, considering punching Anansi.

             
Fortunately for Denise's sanity, Archangel didn't keep them waiting long. The doors exploded inward, warped by the force applied to them by the rogue agent, sending shards of glass skittering across the entryway. The usually immaculately groomed hero's hair was a bit mussed up and his neck was red. He looked furious. A vein throbbed on his forehead.

             
“You're late,” Anansi said. Denise could hear the smirk in his tone, and the way Archangel's hands clenched into fists, he probably could as well. Spark hovered over his right shoulder, the inverse silhouette of her head seeming to face Anansi.

             
“Traffic was killer. Didn't you learn your lesson last time we met, norm?” was Archangel's reply. Anansi turned his head pointedly to Denise.

             
“Do you think he won last round?” he said, his tone innocently quizzical. Denise shrugged.

             
“I think he was losing, before Spark saved his sorry ass,” she replied, catching on to the game. Archangel was quick to anger, and he fought more recklessly when furious. Spark also had a bit of a temper. “Too bad Spark can't generate enough voltage to kill someone, or he wouldn't be having this problem right now.”

             
“A shame, truly a shame. Were I the over-muscled pretty boy, I would have punched my head right in. A proper villain doesn't run away when he's won.” Anansi turned his head back to Archangel. “I could teach you a few things about being a proper bad guy, but with the density of your head, I doubt it would penetrate.”

             
“Thanks for the tip, now how about I break your head like you think I should?” Archangel said, punching a fist into his open palm, the clap echoing through the room louder than a gunshot. Denise flinched.

             
“Wouldn't you like to know the game, first?” Anansi asked, raising a finger into the air. Archangel growled, taking a step forward, then another. Anansi shook his finger. “Ah ah. If you do that, you don't get your serum.” Archangel paused. He straightened his stance and rolled his shoulders, using the action to physically calm himself.

             
“What's the game?”

             
“You versus me, your girlfriend versus my devious ex. It's really simple. If there's a tie, winners go against each other to determine the victor. Winner takes the serum and the loser gets to play winner take all at point four.” Anansi shrugged and placed his hands behind his head. “Unless you don't think you can beat me.”

             
“How about I break every bone in your body until you tell me where you've hidden the serum?”

             
“That's less fun for me, so I vote no, also, I might not know where it is. Mantis might.”

             
Archangel growled. The vein on his forehead looked about ready to burst, and for a moment, Denise thought the hero might have an aneurism. Archangel turned his back to Anansi and Denise, talking quietly to Spark. Anansi slid over on the couch until his hips were touching Denise's, placing his helmet against her. Denise felt a slight buzz in her ears, followed by Anansi's voice.

             
“He's telling her to kill you once she's sure you don't have the location of the serum, by the by. Be careful. You probably know her fighting style better than I do, so good luck. They're going to attack as soon as he turns around.”