West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide (25 page)

Dr. Hodges shook his
head. “As long as everyone is doing their job, I try not to interfere. They’re
all adults and micromanaging doesn’t make you any friends.”

“If I wanted
friends, I wouldn’t have become team leader.” Blue Star snorted and downed half
of his beer.

As the
rest of the team trickled in, Camille decided that her party setup obligations
were over. Now she just had to figure out what to do with Jules. He was sitting
at the far end of the pool, throwing dive sticks for Meghan while looking
disapprovingly at
Matteo’s
rambunctious twins. Going
over there would be walking into a minefield and mean isolating herself from
the rest of the team, who she was supposed to be bonding with anyway. She
surveyed the patio. Blue Star and Matthew were moving towards deck chairs and
trading war stories. Cosmic Kid appeared to be flirting with Emily, who had
changed into a cute little two-piece. Over by the grill, Annie was producing
perfect hotdogs and hamburgers with ruthless efficiency while Seawolf and
Gabrielle ate and argued about something. She figured she might as well mingle
a little before she went over to deal with her own family.

The debate
apparently centered on the role of vigilantes in modern heroics.

“There is no place
for vigilantes in the United States,” said Seawolf flatly. “Maybe they make
sense in countries that don’t have the level of law enforcement or super team
organization that we do, but there’s just no excuse for them here. If you can’t
get on a team and you still want to fight crime, then join the Department of
Super Affairs, or the military or something. If you can’t even do that, there’s
something wrong with you - either inability or
sociopathy
.”

“You can’t seriously
say that all vigilantes are either incapable or sociopaths!” Gabrielle said.
“That’s ridiculous. A lot of vigilantes just want to maintain their privacy and
independence.”

“Maintain their
dirty secrets is more like it,” scoffed Seawolf. “There’s plenty of legal
protections in place nowadays for secret identities. Maybe you could make that
argument back in the ‘80s, but there’s no excuse for it anymore! The vast
majority of vigilantes are either mutants who can’t cut it, mundanes with
delusions of grandeur, or psychopaths like those hooded hit squads that call
themselves Purifiers and go around executing criminals like firing squads. They
give all the rest of us a bad name.”

Camille didn’t
really give a rat’s ass one way or the other; she had worked with too many good
vigilantes over the years to believe that they should be outlawed, but then
again she’d also known some real wackos. However, listening to Seawolf
pontificate about the righteousness of team supers got her annoyed. “Give me a
break,” she said. “Like the public super community doesn’t have its share of
dirty secrets and bad actors. Anyone care to remember when Magma Man turned out
to be an Evolved Coalition agent? Or how about this year with the bathroom sex
antics of Captain Pliable?”

Seawolf glared at
her. “It was
Magmanimous
, not Magma Man.”

“Whatever.” Camille
rolled her eyes. “It was a damn stupid name anyway. You’re avoiding my point.”

“I didn’t think it
was worth addressing,” Seawolf snapped. “Just because a few supers turn
supervillain or display bad judgment doesn’t mean that we should condone
civilians to take the law into their own hands. The popularity of certain
vigilantes has even encouraged kids to emulate their behavior and end up
getting themselves injured or killed. It takes more than a Halloween costume or
a hockey mask to fight crime.”

Camille stifled a
laugh. “Oh come on. You can’t blame Cicada Man for that stupid kid who tried to
climb the side of the Empire State building!”

“Hear, hear,” said
Matteo
, who was listening in from the hamburger line. “And
what about all the kids who get crazy ideas from following team supers on the
Super Channel?”

“There will always
be stupid people,” said Seawolf dismissively. “The problem is when we
legitimize those who dress up in order to put themselves and others in danger
in pursuit of fame and glory.”

“Let us not forget
that we have a former vigilante on the team,” said
Matteo
with a smile. “We should be a little more tolerant.”

“Good point!” said
Camille. “You can’t paint them all with the same brush. A lot of people have
been saved over the years by vigilantes. Cities depend on them to take care of
the sort of mid-level crime that overworked police departments can’t take on
and super teams don’t deign to deal with.”

“Then cities should
increase funding for police forces,” said Seawolf stubbornly. “For the amount
of money that gets sunk into super team publicity, no offense to anyone
present, a city could double or triple the size of its police force.”

“Then they’d better
increase the size of the bereavement funds,” retorted Gabrielle, “because
supervillains mow through police like rockets through paper.”

“I think
Matteo’s
right,” said Camille. “With White Knight on the
team, none of us should be badmouthing vigilantes.” She gave Seawolf a
significant look.

Seawolf glared back.
“I don’t have a problem with White Knight or any former vigilante. Unless
elevating one to team member status encourages more people to take the law into
their own hands.”

“That certainly
wasn’t my intent when I suggested him for the position,” said
Matteo
. “White Knight has done a lot of good in West
Pacific. And is still doing good, unlike some team members I might mention who
would rather quibble over salary and perks than protect the city.”

Gabrielle gritted
her teeth. “Don’t even get me started on Keystone,” she said in an angry tone.

“Yeah, what’s up with
that guy anyway?” Camille asked. Truth be told, she was sort of hoping that
some other team bought out Keystone’s contract. He had replaced her back in
2007 and that would be such poetic justice.

Gabrielle huffed.
“He’s sitting out in his house, refusing to do anything until his contract’s
renegotiated to his liking. He’s bound to crack eventually.”

“Don’t bet on it,”
said
Matteo
. “His agent is really dug in to some
pretty outrageous demands. I even went out to talk to him directly; he’s one
obstinate mutant.”

“The original
hardhead,” said Seawolf, dryly. “Literally in his case, of course.”

“But he has an
amazing house,” continued
Matteo
appreciatively.
“Have any of you been out there? He’s got this living room made out of glass
with an entire wall of sloping windows that hang out over the ocean – it’s
incredible.”

“Yes, the man is
obsessed with his house,” said Seawolf. “I remember when he designed that room
– he went through numerous architects who told him that it couldn’t be built.
But he refused to listen and brought in some German genius I think to finish
it.”

“Obstinate,”
commented
Matteo
.

“Most supers are,”
sighed Gabrielle.

“Speaking of
supers,” said Seawolf with a genuine smile, “Starfish!”

Everyone turned to
look at their recently injured teammate who was striding into the pool area
with a slight limp. There was a general cheer and lots of clapping, and both
Matthew and Blue Star went over to shake his hand. Seawolf and the rest of
their group followed suit. Camille was discomforted to see how wide Starfish’s
mouth became as he smiled at them, revealing two rows of perfectly even white
teeth.

“Good to see you
again,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She’d seen him on
the teleconference at the team meeting, but it had been hard to get a real
impression of him. Now that he was in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, she saw that
his skin was covered with the same type of small bumps that she had seen on
actual starfish and sea urchins. All of his facial features seemed too small
for the size of his face. Some areas of skin on his face and arms were as
smooth as melted plastic, probably injuries from the same explosion that had
killed Awesome and Jason.

“Ah yes, the
ever-lovely Camille,” Starfish said, taking her hand in his. Thousands of tiny
tubular projections suckered onto her hand, causing a chill to run up her
spine. “You’ve done such a wonderful job with my welcome-back party; I can’t
thank you enough.”

“Right, ah, you’re
welcome,” she said with a shudder, quickly retracting her hand. Next to her,
Seawolf scowled.
Go to
hell,
Camille thought. So what if pulling her hand back had been
rude, it felt freaky. “Of course, Matthew, I mean Dr. Hodges, did most of the
work,” she continued with an effort. “Anyway, it’s just great to see you back
in fighting form.”

“Indeed,” said
Starfish, who thankfully didn’t appear to have noticed her reaction. “Our first
team meeting was certainly entertaining. And I must say that I am
so
looking forward to
seeing you in action. You are one of the great legends of the West Pacific
Supers you know. Seawolf has told me so much about you.”

I’ll bet she has,
Camille thought
grimly. “It’ll be great to work with you in the field.”

“Hopefully not long
now before we get some real action,” Starfish said to her with another eerie
smile, before turning to Cosmic Kid. The youngest West Pacific Super didn’t
seem to be bothered at all by the
suckery
handshake
they were sharing or the strange rows of eerily even teeth in Starfish’s smile.
Well, good for him,
Camille thought. She should be getting some food for Jules and Meghan anyway
and Meghan would be shriveled if she stayed in the pool much longer. They could
eat and say goodbye and all drive home together. It had already been too long
of a day.

8:14 p.m., Thursday,
April 25th, 2013

1300
Concordance Circle

West
Pacific, CA

“So do
you honestly think Dr. Wraith is on the roof or is this another psychotic
training exercise by Dr. Loony Bin Sterling?” asked Cosmic Kid as he and Blue
Star took the elevator up Concordance Tower B. The three Concordance Towers, of
which B was the tallest, dominated West Pacific’s skyline, and were on almost
all the postcards. It was nighttime now and the lights of the tower were
striking.

“This isn’t a
training exercise, but I don’t know if this is really Dr. Wraith,” said Blue
Star quietly.

“I mean come on: Dr.
Wraith is like a hundred years old and hasn’t been active in at least a decade,
since that Statue of Liberty thing. He’s probably dead,” said Cosmic Kid.

“Maybe, but this could
be a copycat, like recently in your hometown, and regardless a Goth
techno-necromancer wannabe with a bunch of armed gunmen can’t be up to anything
good,” said Blue Star.

“The Dynamic
Solutions heist in
Cosmopolis
was a Dr. Wraith
wannabe?”

“Supposedly, but he
got killed.
ID’d
as an unemployed actor,” said Blue
Star with an incredulous shake of his head.

“Could this be the
same MO?” asked Cosmic Kid.

“Very likely. Or it
could be related to the breakout of that invulnerable mutant we captured at the
Grand Colonial Hotel the other week, though that was probably Infinite Circle
and corrupt cops.”

“So what’s the angle
here?”

“Either a heist,
terrorism, or a publicity stunt,” said Blue Star with a shrug. “It’s always the
same. The bad guys always want to steal something, cause mayhem, or get their
19 minutes of fame.”

“I thought it was 15
minutes?”

“Inflation, Kid,
inflation,” said Blue Star. “Now if it is Dr. Wraith, then most of his minions
are worthless, but one will be his most recent project, often some sort of
Frankenstein-like thing, part tech, part occult, never pretty. He’s also a
terrorism sort of guy, he likes to scare the hell out of people, kill them, and
do weird things with the bodies. A real sicko, plus he can levitate, has a
death ray of sorts, and always has a Plan B, C, D, E, and F.”

“But if it’s an
actor like in
Cosmopolis
or some lowballing copycat?”

“This might be a
distraction while the real heist happens elsewhere.”

“Boys, Dr. Wraith
has broadcast to the city that in 45 minutes he is activating a neutron bomb
unless 108 people are killed by the WPPD,” said Dr. Sterling over their
headsets.

“If we’re lucky he
has 108 minions.” Cosmic Kid figured Dr. Sterling had probably heard his insult
earlier, but was unsure if he should be embarrassed or pleased about that.

“White Knight is
arriving at Tower A and Seawolf and Camille are in Tower C; Starfish is on the
way,” said Dr. Sterling. “We are integrated into the tower complex security
system, like we are through most of the city, but our bad guy has hacked the
system so we’re running a little blind. However, using the telescope in my
office, I think there are some people on the top of your Tower.”

“Affirmative, we
have it under control,” said Blue Star, coldly clicking off the broadcast from
Dr. Sterling.

“So what’s the plan,
Boss Man?” asked Cosmic Kid.

“We exit the
elevator. Quickly plow through any minions to the roof. Deactivate the bomb and
catch the bad guys.”

“There’s a
simplicity to it that’s for sure,” said Cosmic Kid as the elevator stopped at
the top floor. He noticed that the temperature was dropping in the elevator,
which was no doubt due to Blue Star’s ice powers – either nerves or preparing
for action.

Both Cosmic Kid and
Blue Star moved to the sides of the elevator, in a maneuver that they timed
perfectly to avoid the automatic gunfire that the goons on this floor fired
into the elevator as the doors opened. Cosmic Kid pulled out a flash-bang and
Blue Star nodded. Cosmic Kid tossed it out of the elevator and a deafening
noise and flash echoed from outside the elevator, followed by a few chords from
Ode to Joy
.
Cosmic Kid had learned that all of Dr. Sterling’s hardware had amusing little
surprises like that. He couldn’t help but appreciate Dr. Sterling’s sense of
humor, which made him question his own sanity. The bolas that excreted poison
sumac on those caught in them and the digital handcuffs that snickered as you
strained against them were funny, yes, psychotic probably, but funny
nonetheless.

As the
Ode to Joy
played, Cosmic
Kid sprinted out low from the elevator and saw four gunmen in various states of
discomfort. “So what was it like back in the old days?” asked Cosmic Kid as he
knocked one of the thugs into unconsciousness with a punch to the head.

“I had to walk five
miles in the snow to find a phone booth,” said Blue Star as he encased the
other three in a blast of ice.

“No, seriously, what
was it like to fight the Vanghel and Russian supervillains? I bet it was super
cool!” Cosmic Kid dashed towards the stairs that led to the roof. The goon in
front of the door fired at him, but his ultimesh costume deflected the glancing
blows and he was able to tackle the goon, disarm him, and then throw him down
the hallway into a heap.

“Listen, Kid, they
invented books for a reason.” Blue Star opened the door to the stairs,
plummeted the temperature, and caused flurries of snow and ice to fill the
stairway. Several more goons were coming down to engage them and a few slipped
and fell down the steps.

“Yeah, but you were
there. I mean you dated Lady Liberty and Ms. Omega, back before they got old!”
Cosmic Kid went into the stairway next, and had to slow down because of the
ice. He sort of wished that Blue Star hadn’t iced everything as it would slow
his advance up the steps.

“Kid, don’t believe all
you read in the tabloids,” said Blue Star as he flew up the stairwell towards
the exit to the roof. Cosmic Kid realized he had done the ice to slow him down.
He knew Blue Star wasn’t going for the glory, but was probably trying to keep
Cosmic Kid, the youngster, from the
superbrawl
. He
wasn’t having any of it.

“Come on, I know you
got some
superheroine
action back in the day! I saw
the movie.” Cosmic Kid scrambled up the steps, sliding and shifting, but fully
determined to exit the roof right behind Blue Star.

“I told you to never
mention that movie,” said Blue Star as he slammed open the door to the roof.

“Didn’t get a good
royalties deal, did you?” Cosmic Kid jumped through the door right behind Blue
Star, feeling a little bruised and mangled from slipping and sliding on the
ice.

“It was
unauthorized… ,” started Blue Star, as he exited to the roof and was tackled by
some seven-foot-tall ‘thing’.

It looked like a
cross between a Borg from Star Trek and a rejected Muppet from Sesame Street and
seemed intent on crushing the life out of Blue Star. Cosmic Kid was about to
engage, when he noticed several more gunmen preparing to fire on him. He dived
for cover behind a massive air conditioning unit that ringed out as it was hit
by bullets. Thankfully the darkness on the roof helped to conceal him.

“Could you please
use your micro-camcorder so I can see the situation,” said Dr. Sterling in his
ear.

“Blue Star is
getting crushed by a Borg Muppet and I’m pinned by gunmen,” snapped Cosmic Kid,
though he did activate the micro-camcorder and quickly flashed it around the
roof.

“Alright, seven
gunmen, four are on you, two are waiting for a shot on Blue Star, one is back
by Dr. Wraith who is fiddling with something, probably his bomb,” said Dr.
Sterling. “On the count of seven you run for Dr. Wraith, one—”

“And get mowed
down?!” exclaimed Cosmic Kid.

“Four, five, six,”
continued Dr. Sterling impassively.

She’s insane and I’m
about to get killed
,
thought Cosmic Kid but he knew the rules: if the operations director said jump
– you didn’t ask how high. You just jumped as high and as far as you could.

“Seven!”

Cosmic Kid sprang up
and started running and saw Camille crash into the four gunmen firing on his
location, taking them all down in a heap. He sprinted for Dr. Wraith across the
rooftop. It was time to get serious. He pulled a disc from his utility belt and
pushed a button on it which turned into a small chakra. Chakras were something
of a tradition on Teen Ultimate. Supposedly, years ago a super teen who was a
fan of
Xena
developed them for the team. They were
more stylish than guns, which was the rule for supers.

Cosmic Kid hurled
the chakra at the last gunman; it impacted into his chest and threw him to the
ground. The blades wouldn’t go deep enough to kill him, it was the force of the
impact that knocked him down, but it would leave some nice scars. Gyro Girl
used to try to put the team logo on everything they used; he wouldn’t be
surprised if she had done that with the chakras as well. Really, what the hell
was the Ultimate League thinking to give their super teens so much leeway?

“So if it isn’t
Cosmic Kid!” spoke Dr. Wraith, who probably had to have some voice training as
he delivered the rather ho-hum line with plenty of malice and venom. Cosmic Kid
was impressed.

“If it isn’t some
freak dressed in black trying to bring
Béla
Lugosi
back into vogue,” said Cosmic Kid, who knew nothing pissed off supervillains
more than pretending you didn’t know who they were.

“I’m—” began Dr.
Wraith when Cosmic Kid tackled him and the two went rolling across the roof.
Cosmic Kid was surprised, the guy was pretty light, truly skin and bones. It
was a struggle to transfer the small cylinder from his utility belt to Dr.
Wraith’s ragged black cloak, but that’s why operations directors made you
practice that sort of maneuver over and over again.

“DIE!” roared Dr.
Wraith as his eyes started to glow, which was Cosmic Kid’s cue to toss the
supervillain off the roof. He could levitate so it wouldn’t kill him, that is
if it was the actual Dr. Wraith, but it would keep him away from the bomb long
enough to give Blue Star and Camille some time to regroup.

Cosmic Kid ran back
to the bomb as Blue Star was arriving, out of breath, but functioning. Camille
was now fighting the Borg Muppet and making mincemeat of it with her super
strength and cosmic energy blasts. “So Old Guy can you defuse a neutron bomb?”

“Sure, it’s like
riding a bike,” said Blue Star.

“Unfortunately for
you I have the controls,” said Dr. Wraith, who had levitated up and was holding
a cell phone-like device.

“Whatever,” muttered
Cosmic Kid, pushing a button on his utility belt, which activated the EMP he
had stuck to Dr. Wraith when he tackled him. A flash of blue light coursed over
Dr. Wraith, who started pushing the button on the device to no avail. Blue Star
let out a sigh of relief and pulled off the cover to the bomb casing and
quickly scanned it.

Dr. Wraith began
opening the battery pack of the remote.

“I thought you died
in
Cosmopolis
,” said Cosmic Kid.

“That was an
imposter!” said Dr. Wraith, looking insulted at the question. “I have left
retirement to seek vengeance because… ” He didn’t get to finish as Cosmic Kid
let fly his last chakra, smashing the remote and hurling Dr. Wraith off the
roof again.

“What’s it look
like?” asked Cosmic Kid, turning back to the bomb and peering over Blue Star’s
shoulder.

“Stop blocking my
light,” grumbled Blue Star, who nevertheless started pointing at various parts
of the bomb. “False connections, chameleon connections – typical stuff. Yeah,
like I thought. You can’t disarm this without setting it off.” He sounded
rather upbeat given that prognosis, so Cosmic Kid suspected he had a trick in
mind. “The thing is,” continued Blue Star as he began fiddling with some wires,
“and I learned this from Paragon years ago – trade secret – you’ve just got to
convince the bomb that it already went off – that’s the way to deal with these
modern computerized bombs.”

Cosmic Kid was
filing that away for future reference, when Dr. Wraith swooped back up to the
roof with death rays blaring from his eyes and hands. Cosmic Kid dived and
rolled across the roof avoiding the attacks. “Not bad, Dr. Witch, not bad at
all.” Okay, just as bad as not knowing them was getting their name wrong.

“INSOLENT MORTAL!” roared
Dr. Wraith as he created a powerful blast that blew a large section of the roof
to pieces and partially caught Cosmic Kid. He felt pain course through his body
and a weird tingling sensation.

Thankfully, the good
Doctor had a recharge time like most supers and through that window of
powerlessness came Camille. “I prescribe a right hook and a few decades of
prison!” she cried, catching him with a powerful blow, which probably would
have taken the head off of a normal person, but Dr. Wraith wasn’t normal, he
probably wasn’t even alive, thought Cosmic Kid. However, the blow drove him
down into a communication tower which collapsed around him.