The Prospects (Book 2): Nothing Poorer Than Gods (20 page)

“And don’t forget the costume,” said the fourth agent. “You look like a walking rainbow.”

Pinwheel cringed beneath his multicolored bodysuit. “I’m going to change this.”

“Why? It is fab – youl – lus.” the agent snapped his fingers.

Pinwheel got so angry his photokinetic field made him glow.

Ruby’s crab-like claw pinched his hand and tugged him past the agents.

Pinwheel said under his breath, “Assholes. I ought to report them.”

“Easy, tough guy. You’re still a kid to them.” Ruby pressed the elevator button. “At least you’ll get older. I’ll always be crabby.”

“Guess I can’t complain to someone like you.”

“No you cannot.”

They got in the elevator. Ruby pressed the ground floor button.

“Uh, the cafeteria is in the basement,” said Pinwheel.

“I’m taking off. Tell Noah thanks for everything. Don’t tell him I what he’s become since we left the farm.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back there, he was a kind leader. Since we came back to the city, though, all he’s done is gripe. His escape attempt … I mean, I didn’t like abandoning Joey or taking that lady and kid hostage, but he tried to fry Gary.”

“Why did you stay with him this long?”

“Where else could I go? I thought he’d still look out for me, but that fancy European is right. Noah can’t protect me. I’ll throw myself out.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to where I came from. The streets.”

“But …”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it. I lived rough before Noah found me. And if I stick around, Agent O’Farrell will get around to filing charges. Stealing a government agent’s gun can’t be legal.”

The elevator doors opened at the ground floor.

“Wait,” said Pinwheel.

Ruby waddled out the doors. “Don’t make me pinch you in an unpleasant place.”

Pinwheel pulled seventeen dollars from his jacket’s pocket. “Here. It’s all the cash I got.”

Ruby looked him over. “What are you doing?”

“I’m a hero, aren’t I?”

“You’re an actor. I heard your speech up there.”

“Well, as I read in a script once, you can’t be good if you aren’t nice.”

Ruby’s claw closed on the money. “Thanks. You're one of the good guys. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re not.”

Pinwheel returned to the hospital room with a bottle of Mountain Dew, a bag of Cheetos, and four bananas.

“What’s this?” asked a MAB agent after Pinwheel handed him a banana. “Are you going to tell us we’re monkeys or something?”

“Maybe he’s going to tell us where we can shove them,” said another after he received a banana.

“Nothing that crude. I can take a joke. I just wanted to give you a souvenir from the time when you met a real superhero. Now how do you like them bananas?” They couldn't come up with a comeback before Pinwheel walked into the room. “They didn’t have Code Red, so I got … are you crying?”

Trista wiped her red eyes with one hand and kept typing with the other. “I’m fine.”

Pinwheel handed Trista a tissue. “Must be allergies.”

“No, it’s just that Vijay associated hacking with his dead mother. She was always in his mind when he used a computer. When I took his hacking skills, I took a lot of those memories too. He didn’t want to forget her. He fought for those memories.”

“Can you give them back?”

“I may have destroyed him.”

“May have?”

“I’m afraid to find out. I hated him so much I didn’t think about what I did.”

“It’s sweet to be sympathetic, but Stormhead said his death is an acceptable consequence.”

Trista kept typing. “All the same, I could’ve …”

“Whatever you did is done. You got what you needed to save the day.”

Trista nodded and continued hacking the Handler’s network.

Noah asked, “Where’s Ruby?”

“Gone,” said Pinwheel.

“That’s the last of my people.”

“They found someone else. His name is Lou.”

“The other live one. He came to us able to speak but knowing nothing. In two years he went from being an adolescent to a full-grown man. A real fast learner, that Lou, yet he knows almost nothing about the world.”

Trista snapped her fingers. “Paper. Pen.”

Pinwheel handed her the pen and notepad he used to communicate with Stormhead.

Trista wrote something down and handed the pad back to Pinwheel. “Take this to Agent O’Farrell. Run.”

“He’s, like, eight blocks away. Why can’t you just call him?”

“Read it.”

Pinwheel read, THE HANDLER HACKED INTO OUR COMPUTERS AND PHONES.

He gasped. “Does this mean …”

“The Handler knows all of our plans.”

“Does he know that we know that?”

“No. This computer goes through the hospital’s router. There’s no spyware here. Go, hurry!”

Venusta saw red.

She didn’t feel her knuckles scrape against the Handler’s skull or his flesh become softer with each punch. She didn’t hear the security men come through the door or Portia gasp her name or herself saying every swear word she knew.

So much adrenaline flowed through her veins that the she didn’t stop when the security men hit her with the electric prods. They zapped her repeatedly before she even felt their sharp electric stings.

The Handler tried every hand-to-hand technique knew to escape. No matter how he turned and twisted, she kept pounding his head. He grabbed her arms but she bit his fingers until he let go. He punched back but she kept too close for him to build up any power.

Portia rearranged her blood flow around the holes in her chest and stomach. She shut off most of the flow through her damaged aorta and grabbed her 9mm pistol. With her left arm supporting her, she focused on keeping the muscles and bones in her right arm stiff with a surge of adrenaline. She fired an arc of bullets at the security men’s head level and kept pulling the trigger until she only heard clicks.

Her bullets hit the security men’s faces. They fell.

Venusta rolled off the Handler. “Portia?”

Portia smiled as well as her wobbling head allowed. “You ... magnificent ...”

“Don’t die.”

Portia’s head rolled back. “Save me … I’ll keep you out of jail.”

Venusta cradled Portia and lifted her.

Portia said breathlessly, “Bleeding ... inside”

As Venusta left the room, the Handler’s clutched his pistol. He aimed at Venusta’s back. The door slid shut behind her the instant before he fired. He cursed when the bullet bounced off the door.

She went through the next room, again ignoring the monitors, and into the medical room. Portia pointed to the doctor’s table. “Go to the operating table.”

“Where’s that scary doctor?”

“Put me down. Get a syringe.”

Venusta did what Portia asked.

Portia weakly gestured for Venusta to come close. “Let me see your face.”

Venusta slid off her mask and put back her hood to become Candilyn again.

Portia put her arm around Candilyn, slid her waistband down, and jabbed the syringe into Candilyn’s upper buttock.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Your … healing factor,” Portia pushed the stopper back with her thumb. “Blood can save me.” She drew the syringe, plunged it into the bullet hole in her chest, and injected Candilyn’s blood into herself.

The doctor came back. He reached behind the door and grabbed a rifle.

Candilyn scooped Portia up and ran for the open door at the truck loading dock. She made it out of the door before the doctor fired. His shots zipped over her shoulder as she ran alongside the building to Portia’s Porsche.

Portia jabbed Candilyn’s hip and drew more blood with one hand and pulled out her keys with the other. She unlocked the doors with the fob and injected herself while Candilyn put her in the passenger seat.

Candilyn got behind the wheel and turned the key. The engine roared to life as Portia jabbed Candilyn’s him again with one hand and shifted into reverse.

“How much blood are you going to take?” asked Candilyn.

“As much as I need.” Portia injected herself again. “Drive.”

Candilyn put her full weight on the gas pedal. The sports car’s engine shot straight back through the parking lot and sideswiped every car in its path as the steering wheel slipped through Candilyn’s bloodied fingers. She didn’t straighten it out before it went over the curb, down the hill, and into oncoming traffic.

A SUV rammed into the Porshe’s tailgate. It spun so sharply its front end ended up in the other lane before an oncoming truck could slam on its brakes.

Everything shook. Candilyn heard the tires screeching and metal crunching fiberglass.

Neither Candilyn nor Portia wore their seatbelts. The airbags shoved them so close together Portia’s mouth was in Candilyn’s ear.

Portia said, “We’re away from the Handler.”

Candilyn pushed the deflating airbag out of her mouth. “Then we escaped?”

“The police … coming. Can’t get out.”

“I don’t want to go back to jail.”

“I have a plan. The guy you almost killed, the one you got arrested for. What’s his name?”

“Why?”

“Tell me, idiot!”

“Dwight Perine.”

“Good. And your family … Wingrove Mobile Homes Community, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

Portia focused her blood flow to her head at the expense of the rest of her body. “Listen. Don’t say a word. Not a single word. If you say anything, I will contact a hitman. He'll kill everyone in your family killed, including your retarded little brother. I'll also give a million dollars to Dwight Perine.”

“No. Leave them out of this.”

“If you are quiet, they will live. Only if you are quiet. Do you understand me?”

At Griffin Tower, Alex’s phone rang while he was in the middle of calling the other MAB agents assigned to metahuman teams. He didn’t recognize the number. “Agent O’Farrell.”

An unfamiliar voice said, “What do you have against me?”

“Who is this?”

“I’m the manager of the Young Sentinels. You stole the best half of my team.”

“They asked to become Prospects.”

“Whatever. They’ve been replaced. There’s something big going on tonight. Every cape-and-tights wearer is either leaving or patrolling except my newly reformed team. They’re ready for a big debut.”

“Your ‘team’ is not legally recognized. They’re only entertainers.”

“Sure, but they look better than the palookas who get punched up, which is why kids love ‘em. The news crews will come out if something does go down, so I want them to get some publicity.”

“They’re not going anywhere. If I see any Young Sentinels in costume tonight, I’ll arrest them and you.”

“On what grounds?”

“Them, vigilantism. You, fraud. These kids on your team, do they know you’ve taken out insurance policies on them?”

“What are you talking about?”

“That’s what Steve, Kayleigh, and Pete said too. They also said you gave them so many papers they don’t know if you took out insurance policies on them. After all this is done, I’ll arrange an audit. We’ll see what you had them sign.”

The manager hung up.

Pinwheel panted when he ran into the medical ward. Instead of saying anything, he handed the notepad to Alex.

Alex froze when he read it. “The Handler hacked our computers and phones?”

“For your sake,” said Pinwheel, “I hope he didn’t plant bugs in here too.”

“So the Handler knows everyone I called and what I said, where the New York Guardians and the other teams are going, who’s on patrol and where?”

“That’s what Trista said.”

Gale Force hobbled over. “Is the spyware network still active?”

“I think so.”

Alex said, “If we tell anyone, the Handler will know we’re onto him and shift his plans. What the hell are we going to do?”

Gale Force took the notepad, wrote, “ALL WARFARE IS DECEPTION – THE ART OF WAR,” and held it up. “If Trista can hack into the network, you can attack his strategy. Give him misinformation. Shut him down. Something like that.”

“How?” asked Alex. “I can’t call Trista without the Handler intercepting it.”

“The hospital’s eight blocks away,” said Pinwheel. “I ran it in seven minutes. I need to catch my breath before I run back, though.”

“That’s great,” said Alex, “but Stormhead, Arbalest, and Professor Photon are headed to Jersey City. We can’t get a message to them without the Handler listening in.”

“I can’t fly to them,” Gale Force said. “I’m not that fast, and they won’t hear me with wind rushing around.”

Gary flapped his rumpled wings. “Mine aren’t in good shape. I hope they’ll heal.”

Kayleigh pointed at Deon. “He can run fast, right?”

“Yeah,” said Deon, “but if Stormhead and Magna aren’t looking for me, they won’t see me from up high.”

“Arbalest is on his motorcycle,” said Alex. “He’s got a head start, but there’s no way he’s going close to your top speed. Not with this traffic. You're maneuverable, so you can …” Before Alex finished his phone rang. “Agent O’Farrell.”

“Hey, it’s Apollo Lenox with Harlem Knights. A bunch of crazies are trashing our borough. They’re not robbing or making demands, they’re just attacking everyone.”

“Can you handle the … wait, I’m getting another call.” Alex pressed the button.

“Agent, it's Parkourior with the Hell’s Kitchen Helpers. Some loonies are running amok on Thirty-Fifth Street like they’ve got rabies.”

“Right, I … wait, I’m getting another call, and I got to take care of something.” Alex turned off his phone. “Deon, we need you to run down Arbalest. He can signal Stormhead and Professor Photon with a flare quarrel and bring them down for a word.”

“A flare quarrel?” asked Deon.

“He has lots of novelty quarrels. It’s his thing.”

Gary looked out the window. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but there are cops everywhere. Woah, someone’s flying. He’s shooting at the cops.”

“Wait,” said Deon. “You want me to run through a city full of psychos to deliver a message? That’s crazy, man.”

Gale Force said, “Deon, you can be brave enough to save lives. You proved that.”

“But that … no, you’re right. I gotta do this. What should I tell them?”

“To come back,” said Alex. “The Handler wants them out of the city. Let’s screw up his plan by bringing them home.”

“Right. I can't run at top speed for long before getting too exhausted to do anything else, so I got one shot at this. Where am I going?”

“Head for the Lincoln Tunnel. If you can’t catch him in there, run down Four-Ninety-Five through Jersey City. That’s most of his route.”

“One more thing,” said Deon. “My mom’s working at New York-Presbyterian. Whatever happens, protect her.”

“I’ll go there myself,” said Alex.

“I’ll watch the prisoners.” Gale Force pulled Deon close and kissed him on the lips. “Be careful out there.”

Deon hopped. “Damn, girl, are we back on?”

She smiled sweetly. “Save the day, and we’ll go out tonight.”

Deon ran out of the medical ward.

“Kayleigh, suit up. Pinwheel, catch your breath. I’ll go to the basement to get some armor and weapons I stashed in the living quarters.” Alex paused. “Emily is down there.”

Kayleigh slipped into her sleeved harness and grabbed her mask. “I’ll go with you.”

“So will I,” said Pinwheel. “We followed you into hostile territory before.”

“Agent O’Farrell,” said Gary, “is there anything Lou and I can do?”

“Wait here.”

“But I’m a good shot with a rifle, and Lou is really strong.”

“You’re also sixteen. I’m not sending a child into battle. Lou, how old are you?”

Lou’s doglike face scrunched.

“Let me put it this way,” said Alex, “Who was president when you were born?”

“President? What’s that?”

“It was probably the current one. How many winters have you seen?”

“Three. Two before I got free.”

“So you’re four years old at the most. Stay here. I’ll need you as evidence against the CIA and Alerion Incorporated. “

After they left Joey tugged Gary’s wing. “Could you get the goat? I want to make sure he’s safe.”

Alex, Kayleigh, and Pinwheel went to the elevator. Kayleigh put on her mask to become Knockout Rose and struck poses against the reflective steel wall. Pinwheel repeated under his breath, “I’m as cool as Han Solo. I’m as cool as Indiana Jones. I’m as cool as …”

“What the hell are you two doing?” asked Alex.

“Getting psyched up,” said Pinwheel. “It’s an actor’s ritual.”

“Same for me,” said Knockout Rose. “Posing makes me feel fierce.”

“Knock it off,” said Alex. “Harrison Ford had stuntmen. We don’t. And I saw the pictures on the news from the prison break, Knockout Rose. No more showboating.”

“But we won,” said Knockout Rose.

“That’s where it should end. Don't turn a victory into a humiliating defeat. The Simian Squad will throw feces at your picture until they get out of jail.”

“That won’t be for years, right?” said Pinwheel.

“Take it from someone who’s been on the receiving end of a humiliating defeat. The years make it worse. All you think about is revenge.”

“Wow,” said Knockout Rose. “Who gave you a humiliating defeat?”

“Trista.”

“Our Trista?” said Pinwheel.

“Of all the villains I faced, she came the closest to killing me.”

“But you’re friends now,” said Knockout Rose.