08-03-2006, 10:35 PM
Thanks for everyone for allowing cameos (or not protesting too much.)
The pictures are linked.
A Day in the Life.
I heard the news today Oh boy,
That Spanish bitch just set a bunch of fires.
And though the fires were rather small,
We had to douse them all,
Now we know how many fires it takes to burn a Counsil hall,
She loves to burn us down
Archon Lenin Cartneys lament.
Bella Fuego cracked one eye open and immediately regretted the effort. The pain was overwhelming. Every inch of her body, from the tips of her toes to the highest follicle on her head protested the single movement vehemently. That figured. After several minutes of trying to convince herself not to do it, Bella opened her other eye. Figures clustered above her, speaking in whispers that echoed through her tender head like thunderclaps. She blinked, a touch of fire returning to her strange, red eyes.
Um Carmen, are you okay? The blur on the right was topped in diverging puffs of red. It was either Minuet Mac Hine, or someone had sawn Zweitkinders head in half. We were all worried about you.
Bella considered the slightly Scots flavored syllables, as her mind tried to rearrange them into something approaching language. Spanish? No. English, it had to be English. Bella considered her own position for a moment; where was she? The floor underneath her was carpeted in a functional, industrial weave; that was strewn with numerous dustbunnies, popcorn, fragments of corn chips, and a fragrant, overlarge, athletic sock that could have fit a medium sized rhino, or more likely, Wide Receiver. Where was she? The hospital. No it couldnt be the hospital; it wasnt nearly clean enough and there were no interns scurrying in and telling her to take off her top and breathe deeply. The air was cool and had the taste of industrial processing. The base. She was in the Legendarys base. Her powers of deduction, honed by years of crime-fighting, were slowly coming back into play. She was in the base. So far so good. The blur on the right was definitely Minuet Mac Hine. The blur on the right was substantially larger, mostly green, and also topped with a shock of red hair. It might have been Morgan, in fact it was probably Morgan; but that wasnt important at the moment. What was important was the ceramic mug that the probably-Morgan blur was holding in his right hand.
Coffee. Brewed strong, hot and black. Bella reached out a hand that somehow fell short of the steaming, highly caffeinated, holy grail. She tried to get up but found that she was wedged in place. The coffee remained tauntingly out of her reach. Why couldnt she get up? The situation mocked her. Minuets voice continued to slice into her brain like a band-saw; while Morgan and more importantly for the moment, the coffee, were still distant.
How did you end up behind the couch? Minuet asked.
Bella paused, her reaching arm fell back down. She moved it slightly so it was no longer laying across the sock. It was a very good question. She considered it; how did she end up behind the couch. It had all started with Miss Liberty. Thats right. Miss Liberty had been congratulating her on reaching Security Level 43. Right. Good, everything made sense so far. What had happened next? Pocket D. DJ Zero had dedicated Pat Benetars All Fired Up to the hottest heroine in the house. That had been sweet of him. Accurate, but sweet nonetheless. Then the bar overlooking the club had set up the line of 43 flaming shooters. So far so good. She vaguely remembered a very uneven flight to the base portal and then coming into the recreation room and Had she really been dancing on the globe? The last thing she remembered was the Northwest Territories spinning wildly to the right and Yes, that would explain it.
Morgan, move the couch please. Bella managed, her throat was parched, lending a husky rasp to her already sultry voice. The light grew brighter as Morgan reached down with one hand, grabbed the end of the couch and pivoted it away from the wall. Carmen motioned him over, and reaching up, followed his thigh up to his belt. It took her two tries, but she eventually grabbed on and used it to slowly hoist herself up off the floor. She could feel Morgan quiver slightly under her touch. She took the mug from his hand, oblivious to the heat and held it under her nose, inhaling deeply. The headache and other pains faded almost immediately. She took a long sip of the searing brew; feeling it work its magic on her. There were very few things Bella enjoyed more than a cup of coffee; and her current state, hangover included, bumped all of them further down the list. After the second cup they would climb back up to their usual positions. Bella leaned back as she drained the mug in three long swallows. She sighed with an almost orgasmic satisfaction and tried to hand the cup back to Morgan. He didnt immediately take it.
Um Bella Min tried to interrupt. Bella silenced her with a gesture. She tried to hand the mug to Morgan again; but he remained unmoving, his features flushed red. Odd. She pushed his chest with the mug, trying to draw a reaction.
Bella! Min pointed. Oh, that was it. Bella noted that her jacket was draped haphazardly across one of the sensors on the worktable and her brief, strapless, top had shifted significantly during her sojourn behind the couch; leaving certain landmarks rather conspicuous by their presence. Morgan continued to blush, while desperately trying not to stare. It wasnt like he hadnt seen them before; and rather more, but he still blushed. It would have been sweet and endearing if his deer-in-the-headlights paralysis was not keeping him from fetching her another cup of coffee. Bella grabbed Morgans hand, turned it palm up and placed the coffee mug in it. Now that both hands were free she tugged her top back into position.
Do you want another cup? Morgan asked, shaking off his paralysis.
Por favor. Bella flopped down on the couch. She glanced at the chronometer. It was a few minutes past four in the afternoon. Not bad; the worst of the days heat would have passed; leaving plenty of time for other endeavors. She briefly organized her agenda for the day. First priority, second cup of coffee. Second Priority, third cup of coffee. Shower. Then a solid meal and she would be once again fit for duty. One of her informants had been whispering sweet nothings about a Counsel Recruiting push; that certainly warranted investigation, and shortly thereafter conflagrations; several to be sure. If everything went according to plan she would still have plenty of time to drop in on Morgan and indulge in one, perhaps two of her higher-than-a-cup-of-coffee items on her list of favorite things.
* * *
The shower was full of steam, which poured over the top of the stall and filled the room. The shower facilities at the base were rudimentary, but functional. Bella turned her face towards the shower and let the water pour over her. Another hour of this and she would feel human again. The thought brought a smile to her lips. She didnt have an hour, so she would have to settle for beautiful, desirable, and cranky. The door to the ladies facilities swung open, bringing a blast of cooler air and the distinct smells of rotting flesh and formaldehyde. That did not bode well for completing her shower. Bella pulled back the curtain and glanced out. Evangelia did not look happy. The Legendarys commander was looking slightly singed on the edges and was splattered from head to toes with the semi-liquid detritus of a Vahz Embombed corpse that had exploded. Bella met Evas eyes and nodded. Fortunately the commanders costume was far more concealing than Bellas so it was unlikely that the contamination was too bad. Bella had once pulled a complete Vahz eyeball out of her bra, and Jackie Frost held the unofficial group record, having recovered an entire brain that had been lodged in her cleavage. It was a record that was likely to stand; competition was not particularly fierce; and it was unlikely that anyone would be willing admit to topping it.
Please tell me that theres some hot water left. Eva said, shifting so as not to drop too many bits on the tile floor.
Plenty. Bella stepped out of the shower without turning off the water, she slipped past Eva, taking care not to tread on any of the detritus that had been tracked in. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror over the sink and smiled; taking a moment to turn slightly. Looking great. The combination of a rigorous exercise regime and her particular physiology had kept the years at bay. She may have been 45, but her face and figure were those of a woman half her age. Only a few stray grey streaks in her otherwise full mane of raven black hair gave advertisement to her actual age. Behind her, Eva stepped into the shower without even bothering to strip off her costume. Rather than reach for a towel, Bella raised her arms a made a quick pirouette. A searing wave of heat instantly evaporated every drop of moisture from her body; she was reaching for her hairbrush when Eva emerged from the shower stall with a yipe.
C-c-c-cold. Eva managed. You were taking a cold shower?
Not by the time it reached me. Bella said with a wink as she began brushing out her hair. She quickly gathered it up into a long pony-tail and considered the job done. Clothes were next; or rather lack of them. She threaded the small, crystalline earring through her right ear lobe and locked it in place. One of the more exciting technologies that the visitors from other dimensions had wrought; and uniquely suited for super-heroic activities. Dubbed a costume crystal, it was a packet of memory-matter that could almost instantly reconfigure itself to any form. Its limited memory allowed for a few costumes to be programmed into it. The device was triggered by a vocal cue; the user only had to speak aloud and the change would occur. Bellas own crystal was top of the line, and contained her costume, civies, beach attire, and at least one outfit for special occasions.
Bella Flash! A cloud of fire leapt from Bellas body as she triggered the crystal. The fire was her own touch and had the interesting effect of slowing down the crystals reconfiguration process. She had gotten the idea from a Japanese cartoon that Radica had shown her one afternoon. The earring vanished as clothes appeared out of nowhere, covering her body. Black pants, cut to show her nicely turned ankles and tight enough to advertise her lack of underwear, a brief white bandeau, and a short, black jacket, that allowed flashes of her taught belly and back. Her small, square rimmed glasses appeared and she pushed them up her nose with a practiced gesture. The glasses were another reminder of her age. While in costume she generated a small field of heat over her eyes to compensate for a bit of near-sightedness, but that was secondary. They just looked hot on her. She glanced back at the shower where Eva was making small, disgusted noises as she sluiced corpse bits from her uniform.
In Paragon City the actual processes of choosing a Supergroup Leader were often strange, and like so many things, skewed by bureaucracy. At sixteen, Eva was an unlikely leader for such a disparate group of heroes, and had neither volunteered for the position, or even expected it. It had dropped on top of her, like some many things in life, as a complete surprise. Bella smiled warmly; Eva had risen to the challenge remarkably. It was a tough, thankless job and it often felt like the tribulations were far in excess of the rewards. Bella thought of her own team back in Madrid. The long hours, the constant bickering and squabbling. It had been worth it, but the cost had been most of her time; and had caused more than a few of her current gray hairs. Now it was someone elses problem; and while Bella was always willing to lend a hand, an ear, or a few words of advice; she mostly let Eva figure it out for herself. Besides, having copious free time was still a novelty for Bella, and while Paragon was not as cosmopolitan as Madrid, the city did boast enough interesting attractions to keep her occupied.
What do you have planned today. Eva asked over the noise of the shower.
Council. Bella replied, a little more flatly than she had intended. William has a line on a new cadre of Council recruits. I think they will regret ever hearing the name Paragon City.
This isnt personal is it? Damn. Eva had picked up in the change in her tone.
Yes. Yes it is. Bella said quietly. I know what you are going to say next. I will be careful. I will try and send them to the hospital and not the morgue.
Good luck then. Eva scrubbed industriously at her hair. One more thing.
Eva, I do not lose my temper. Carmen said as she left the showers. I know where it is at all times.
Oh and Bella, can you grab my spare uniform from the locker, please?
And a towel. Bella added. She drew the uniform out and ran a hand over it, warming it to just-out-of-the-dryer temperature. Rather than the usual blue and gold, Evas new costume was a deep black, and the accessories were far more gothic than she would have expected. Faux bone; or at she hoped it was faux. There was an easy way to check, but Bella would not subject Eva to the sight of her licking the uniform. It was a different look for the young hero, that was sure. A concern? Perhaps, but it was easy to forget that Eva was only sixteen, and every sixteen year old, no matter how well adjusted, had their moments.
* * *
Superball stared. Some people were good at staring, but Superball excelled at it. He had taken staring, itself a spectators sport and turned the art of it into a spectators sport. He did not merely stare. He goggled. He eyeballed. He gaped, gawked, gazed and rolled his eyes in amazement. It was often more interesting watching him react to what he was seeing; the performance outstripping the actual subject of his attentions. Bella did her best to ignore him, but it was nearly impossible. It was like watching a car-wreck, or more specifically, watching someone watch a car wreck. She did her best to pretend he wasnt there, which was simply not enough, and turned her attentions back to the refrigerator. She had already loaded her first plate to overflowing with a variety of fruit, cottage cheese and some crudely chopped crudits, and had returned with a second plate to hold a pair of thick turkey sandwiches and a generous helping of patats bravas.
Is there something you find funny? Bella finally snapped. It was a tactically unsound maneuver, but there was something about Superball that just screamed Ask me! Im dying for you to ask me!
Nope. Superball said gamely. Ive always thought Atlas Park needed a second blimp.
Bella smiled, a trace of fire creeping across her eyes. She had asked for it. He had responded. Any further action on her part would lend itself to escalation. It would start out with an exchange of increasingly caustic banter; a brief reconciliation, and then the pranks would begin. They would start small and increase exponentially. If she let it go forward in a matter of days the entire base would be engulfed by it. The last time had been bad enough. Perhaps she should not have melted his video and DVD collection into a single homogenous mass; perhaps he should not have reprogrammed her costume crystal with the Miss Piggy ensemble, including blonde wig, ears, snout, and the inevitable six teats. Bella swallowed her anger, chasing it down with a fork-full of cottage cheese.
Gday Supes, Bella. Australis sauntered in and grabbed a seat at the table. The antipodean Peacebringer was dressed casually in cargo pants, vest and his perpetual corked bush hat. He smiled lazily and leaned back. Owzit then?
Dont get too close. Superball warned in his best Crocodile Hunter imitation. Danger! Danger! Shes a bee-ootiful one, but you get too close to er trough and shell getcha. Youll bleed out an die.
Fine thank you. Bella stabbed a patat with enough force that the tines of her fork scraped against the plate. How are things in Talos?
Fair dinkum. Australis shrugged. Bit of a bother with the Tsoo of late. Been leaning a mite hard on the Warriors and somethings about the break.
Territory or commerce? Bella asked.
Commerce. Australis grabbed a carrot stick off of Bellas plate, the gesture causing Superball to dive for cover. Mostly merchant shakedowns, restaurants, bookstores and the like. Seems normal, but it just dont sit right. The Warriors are too angry for it just to be money. Oh bloody hell!
I take it youve just had a revelation. Bella finished one sandwich and started on the next one, chomping it down in four large bites.
Yes. Based on the way you suck food down, your father was a hoover and your mother Superball let the tirade trail off. There was a line and all of Bellas body language was shouting that he had not just crossed over it, but had jumped over, done an impromptu celebratory dance with gratuitous pelvic gestures and broken wind explosively. That and her fork had melted in her hand and was now a puddle of bubbling metal that was slowly burning its way through the table.
Supes mate, shut it. Australis continued smoothly. Its all about location. The Tsoo are aiming for businesses fronting on the east end of the warehouse district. Five gets you ten theres something coming in that both of em want and theyre trippin over emselves to get into position.
Artifact. Bella said, her voice was pitched low and a rapidly slipping control was evident in each syllable. Something martial if the Warriors are interested in it. Excuse me, I have an appointment to meet.
Australis held his breath as Bella got up, rinsed her plates and stacked them carefully in the dishwasher, her spine ramrod stiff. She left without a single backward glance. As the sound of the base teleporter sounded, Australis let his breath out with a whoosh. That had been close. She wouldnt have killed Superball; the medical transporter would have whisked him away before she burned anything truly critical off of him; but Bellas anger tended to be explosive, which was hard on the furniture.
Hey guys. Wide Receiver turned slightly sideways as he entered the common room, the doors were overlarge but even so he had to maneuver to get his magnificent bulk through them. Whats up with Bella? She looked really angry. Okay, angrier than normal.
Australis shrugged and pointed to Superball who adopted a what me worry grin. The trio stood in silence for a moment.
Okay Wide Receiver shrugged, his shoulders shifting like boulders. So it wasnt anything I did.
Yes it was! Superball bounced to his feet and pointed an accusing finger. It was you! Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Admit your crimes and the court may choose to be lenient with you.
What? Confusion played briefly over Wides features. I didnt say anything. I didnt do anything.
Thats what they all say! Superball pressed. I know! It was Minuet! She put you up to this. Never trust a redhead. Youll both go down for this! Its the chair for you laddie-buck.
It wasnt Minuet! Wide snapped back defensively. All she said was that Morgan had said that Bella had posed for Playboy.
She did? Superball stopped in his tracks as if struck with a heavenly revelation; or a baseball bat. That I did not know.
Oh bloody hell. Australis dropped his head to the table, the corks dangling from his hat pooling around him. This could not go well. This would not go well.
Details. I need details. Superball had actually climbed up Wide Receivers jacket and was hanging from the lapels, his feet dangling in the air. Talk to me you monolithic man-mountain!
Im not saying anything else. Wides manhole cover sized hands closed over Superballs and tugged them free of his jacket. He dropped the martial artist on the floor. The big man was blushing furiously over his slip-up.
I know. I know. I dont need you! The internet is my friend. The internet! I can find it on the internet. Just like the song says. Superball pulled himself across the floor in a deranged crab-walk. He broke into song. The Internet is for porn, the internet is for porn, that Spanish chick Ill double-click for porn, porn, porn.
Come on Wide. Australis got up and adjusted his hat. Lets go keep that idiot from causing any more damage.
But hes going to be Wide blushed. On the internet.
He is mate. Repeat after me. Were going to look over his shoulder to keep that idiot from causing any more damage. Australis repeated. Thats our story and were sticking to it.
* * *
Bellas rage was a tangible thing. Fire leapt about her, leaving a long, glowing contrail in the sky. She had eschewed the monorail and was taking the long route to Steel Canyon. The weather was perfect, as it inevitably was; the sun was bright, the sky blue and the air held the slight taste of the sea. A perfect afternoon for lying on the sandy beaches of Talos, slowly smoking steaks over a razorvine fire. Bella make a growling noise in her throat and the flames surrounding her flared even brighter. The worst part of it was that she couldnt even blame Superball. He was just trying to be funny. In another situation it might have actually been funny. But it wasnt.
Spain under Franco had been a strange collusion of freedom, oppression and acceptance. The economic miracle had thrived alongside the often ruthless curtailing of groups; groups often signaled out for no other reason that the language they spoke. There had been late night arrests; imprisonment without trial, and through all of it, Franco himself. The Generalissimo. Franco the immortal. Franco the undying; and as Chevy Chase had so accurately reported. Franco the still dead. A lot had been made of the death of Franco; but not much had been said on the method of his death. All the better.
Bella still remembered the night her father had vanished. It had not been a matter of high drama, an overly emotional parting, ripped away from his family by Balaclava shrouded men in the middle of the night. He had simply left their small casa to fetch a block of ice from the grocer and had not returned. The economic miracle was such that the family somehow managed to keep going. Carmen found work in a local cantina, while her brother shifted produce at the same grocer her father had gone to visit. Esteban Santos had simply vanished. Odd as it seemed then, they knew what had happened and why it had happened. Esteban had been teaching the Catalan language, and had been highly vocal in support of its use. Having an eloquent voice speaking on behalf of the language would have been troublesome; having that voice vanish without a trace was far more practical.
The mystery of Estebans disappearance, if it ever truly was a mystery, resolved itself quietly. A copy of a death certificate had been pushed through the mail slot several months later. It listed heart failure as the cause of the death. All death could be attributed to heart failure; no matter what the cause. Bella felt a tear flash from liquid to vapor. She forced her mind back to the job at hand. She dove towards the street, pulling up at the last possible second to alight silently on the sidewalk. On the ground, the tall skyscrapers of Steel Canyon blocked out much of the sky, reducing it to thin blue strips overhead. Bella picked up her contact easily enough. Willy Starbuck. He waved to her from his seat at a street-side cafeteria.
William. Bella said in greeting, Taking the chair opposite Willy at the small table. While he did not actually appear under oily in the dictionary, Willy was comfortably wedged between weasel and womanizer. He was up to all his old tricks and had already placed the cream and sugar on Bellas side of the table.
Hey Hot-stuff. Willy got up and leaned forward and snagged a pair of nutra-sweet envelopes from the sugar tray, his eyes burying themselves as deeply into her cleavage as was possible. I got something for you.
A small item I am sure. Bella said dryly. That is what the graffiti in the Atlas Park Womans washroom had avowed, and Bella saw no need to question or confirm it.
No, its huge. Willy said, dumping the sugar into his coffee and tossing the spent packets on the ground. Youll love it.
Bella intercepted Willys attempt at the cream by pushing the bowl to his side of the table. It was a wasted effort as Willy got up and drew an envelope out of his back pocket. He unfolded it and, leaning over, placed it in front of Bella. She let it sit there unopened for several long seconds. A harried waitress passed depositing a cup of coffee in front of Bella, deftly avoiding Willys attempt at a passing pinch.
So. Watcha think? Worth something to you? Bella ignored the comment, savoring a long sip of her coffee. It must have been on the burner the better part of an hour. Hot, thick, burnt and acrid. Lovely. Bella picked up the envelope and tore it open. A small selection of photos, a few photocopied ticket stubs, and a short list of names and Social Security numbers. It was council, that much was certain. A strange look passed over Bellas features as she reached the last two photos. She looked again and then returned all the materials to the envelope.
William. I am very pleased. Bella said with a nod. Very pleased indeed.
Great hot-stuff. Willy preened. So watcha say we go somewhere private and you can show me how pleased you are?
Interesting idea. Bella watched Willys face light up. But I have a better one. I will pay for your coffee and meal, give you a kiss on the cheek, and not burn a hole through your chest.
Deal. Willie was far more subdued in his response. Every time they met he attempted to bed her; she rebuked him gently, with the threat of a horribly fiery retribution. He knew somewhere deep in his lounge-lizard soul that her threat was just as sincere as his offer.
* * *
I want to thank everyone who made this possible. Superball bawled. You love me! You really, really, love me!
Strewth Australis took off his hat and held it briefly over his heart.
I am not looking. Wide Receiver said from his position behind the monitor. Im not.
Your loss mate. Australis said.
Yes, oh and tell little Miss Minute Machiney that shes wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong. Wait. Thats one too many wrongs. Superball counted on his fingers. Shes wrong, wrong and wrong.
What? There was a dangerous catch in Wide Receivers voice.
Bella didnt pose for Playboy once. Superball said. Three times my front-four friend. Three times! Unos! Dos! Tres! Exhibit A. Bella Fuego, age 21, Miss August, measurements chest wow, waist sweet, and hips thank you kind and generous god. Likes include hot summers, hotter tangos and coffee. Dislikes are listed as Francoites, Fascists and Falsehoods. For the sake of all mankind lets all hope those are the only things starting with F she doesnt like.
Exhibit C. Visiting An Old Flame; Still burning twenty-one years later. Australis added. Bella Fuego hits 42.
Those are not 42s. Speedball pointed. I would say about 34, with a half inch extra if the room is air-conditioned.
Im still not looking! Wide Receiver announced, pulling his football helmet down so it covered his eyes completely.
And then Exhibit B. Superball said calmly.
Not looking! Wide Receiver shouted. Min would kill me. Or worse, not heal me.
Some things are worth fighting for. Superball said with the same, unnatural, uncharacteristic calm. Some things are worth killing for, and some things are worth dying for. This lends the next logical question, who do I have to fight and kill and where is it convenient for me to die?
I dont know about fight, kill and die mate. Australis said. He tilted his head to the side and re-evaluated. What was it that the fat yank sang? Two out of three aint bad.
Wide. At this point it behooves us to honour you. Superball stood up and climbed on top of his chair. Thus positioned, he draped an arm over Wide Receivers shoulders, his arm barely reaching Wides tree-trunk neck. You are a pillar of strength. Your ability to resist temptation is astounding. Your eyes, smeared with man-makeup to deflect the sun, have not strayed, but remained averted and true. We should all aspire to your courage, your conviction, your insurmountable willpower.
You dont mean that, do you Despite his suspicion, Wide Receiver felt oddly touched by the compliments.
I meant every word of it. Superball hopped down. I also know that it is the last time that I shall be able to say it to you. For I shall now read to you the description of Exhibit B:
Wide Receiver hunched his shoulders. This was it. Game time. The Coach wasnt here, but he knew the playbook by heart. It would have to be a running play. Break left, hook right, jump the stairs and straight into the teleportation portal. The ball was his. Hut, hut hut!
Fire and Ice, Bella Fuego and Jackie Frost Steam Things Up. Superball said. Hot heroines hit the shower after a hard days crime-fighting.
Interception! Sacked! Flag on the Play! The sparks from Wides cleats stopped as he struck the doorframe and staggered back. It was over. He wasnt going to win one for the Gipper this time. He looked. The blush rose and bloomed on his features and his Adams apple moved up and down with the deliberate pace of a powerlifter hoisting a four-hundred pound barbell.
They Wide managed. They really seem to be enjoying that shower.
Mate, Im enjoying that shower, an Im not even in it. Australis admitted.
We cant keep this to ourselves. Superballs fingers flashed over the keyboard. There were a number of strange beeps and pings as several more windows popped up.
www.magma.ca/~revdark/coh...e-cant.jpg
Youre not supposed to have access to that. Australis said as the blueprints to the base sprang up on the screen. Loralai is going to have your stones if she finds out and Bloody hell. Supes, what have you done?
So do you like it? Superball grinned and locked the console.
* * *
For Nebula-Elite soldier Clay Joyce, the day had started out well. He woke to the hum of computers and the quiet snores of his bunkmates. He rose, showered, marveling as he always did at his new physique. From there he went down to the Council gymnasium for a course of weights, cardio and hand to hand tactics. Breakfast was next; after a while you couldnt even taste the neuro-muscular supplements and other medications served alongside the eggs. From there a two hour lecture on history, a firearms lesson and then it was out to the streets for patrol and recruitment. It was a fine day; and for Clay, a fine life.
Just six months ago, life had not been so fine. He had lost his job, shortly thereafter his wife; and somewhere between the two, any vestige of his self-respect. His never muscular frame had been the product of a sedentary lifestyle, and his mind a dull, slow morass of repeated sit-coms and the occasional foray into game shows. The council had changed all of that. A Nebula-elite, just like he now was, had stopped him on the street. He could still remember the lenses of the mask boring into him, and finding himself in awe of the mans poised, muscular, military bearing, and cringing at the unspoken disdain seeping out.
In just seven days, we can make you a man. Had he ever been subjected to the Rocky Horror Picture Show, the line might have struck a different chord with Clay; but this was a hand reaching up to him when all others seemed poised to slap him down. He agreed. A decision that would change his life forever. Within the hour his few remaining assets had been sucked away, transferred over to the council. He was left standing naked on a platform. His only clothing, if it could be called that, was the steel ring on his right hand, which bore the emblem of the Council. The base doctor then brandished a needle that looked more suited to dosing an elephant, and commented that this was likely to hurt. A lot.
The next seven days were a strange mix of unrelenting pain and growing joy. Under the treatment of the base doctor, his bodys very structure was altered. Bones, stretched and thickened, muscles grew and his fat melted away, fuelling the changes that he was undergoing. When he rose on the seventh day, he was a new man, literally. He remembered standing next to the bed, feeling the awesome power of his muscles, the whipcrack speed of new reflexes, and the comfortable hum of a mind now conditioned to his new purpose. He also remembered taking his first step and falling flat on his face.
In the weeks that followed he never had an idle moment. Physical trainers helped him acquire command of his strange, unfamiliar body, while other instructors taught him the arts of weapons, unarmed combat and above all else, of loyalty and devotion to the Council, which gave him these gifts. He could feel his mind change as well, he learned about the honour of the Council, his duty to the Council. The Council was greater than he was, but he was an integral part of it. His strength, his loyalty, his very life were the Councils to spend, and he eagerly welcomed the opportunity. Just yesterday he had taken a man, a worthless hunk of flabby detritus, from the street, and brought him to the glory of the Council. He knew that the man saw in his eyes, what he had seen in his own recruiters eyes, so many months ago. He was strong. He was powerful. He was Council. And up to five minutes ago; that was everything that he had ever wanted to be.
It had all gone wrong so suddenly. He had been standing atop his podium, addressing passersby, when she had walked up. The woman had not been particularly tall, but she was tan, comely, and fit. Clay had ignored her gloriously. Women were weak things, unsuitable for the Council. Perhaps when the Councils plans came to fruition, such women could serve them in another, more suitable manner, but for the time being, she was to be ignored. So Clay ignored her, turning his attention elsewhere. She had shrugged and taken a few steps back, lowering her chin so she could look over the frames of the small, rectangular glasses she was wearing. Her smile was seductive, her wink, positively lascivious, and the slight cock of her hips an eloquent invitation to no holds barred mattress battle.
Still Clay remained unmoving, although he secretly admitted that things were moving. The woman seemed somewhat put out by his lack of attention. Her smile trailed out and Clay saw something else behind her eyes. She had odd eyes, Clay remembered thinking. Her irises were not blue, brown or even green, but red. Not the dull, muted red of a sunset, but a bright red that would not look out of place on a very expensive sports car. Something clicked into the forefront of his mind, a briefing about known Council enemies, and his hand moved reflexively, clicking the safety off on his weapon.
Bella Flash! The woman had shouted out, a wave of flame pouring out from her, washing over Clay and his two companions. His armour smoked and Clay could feel the heat, even through the insulation. The womans clothes vanished and Clay was stunned for a split second at the shapely expanse of caf-au-lait skin and perfectly formed limbs. By the time he had brought his weapon up, the woman was clothed in tight red shorts, a flame patterned top that displayed copious cleavage, and long, red, thigh-high boots. Her eyes were now burning pools of pure red and her skin awash in flame that swirled around her like a shield. Clay brought the barrel to bear and attempted to squeeze the trigger. It resisted all his efforts, a glance showed that the entire mechanism had been welded together by the first wash of flame.
It took a moment for Clay to un-sling his useless weapon and drop it. As fast as his reflexes were, the woman was even faster. She gestured with her hand, sending a small globe of fire into his chest. As the sphere struck his armour it exploded violently, sending him reeling backwards into the wall he was positioned in front of. His companions fared no better, caught up in the explosion, they were tossed about like dolls. The heat was a tangible thing, and Clay could feel the skin of his chest begin to burn as his armour sloughed away in molten fragments. As he reached for a grenade the woman drew back slightly, her chest pressing forward as if she were the big bad wolf, and he and his men, the three little pigs. It was not a pleasing image, especially given the nauseating, roast pork smell of his own burning flesh. The woman suddenly bent forwards, releasing a mouthful of flame that washed over all three. The pain was intense and Clay could feel himself slipping out of consciousness. He was yanked back rudely to awareness as the woman strode forward and grabbed him by the neck. He tried to defend himself, but a small, strong hand closed around his throat made an expert half twist to the right, and forced him back against the wall.
Okay asqueroso, time to talk. The woman leaned forward. Clay could feel the heat from her eyes actually burning two small holes in the skin at the bridge of his nose. He was strong, he was Council. He would not tell her anything.
You may torture me! He managed. You may kill me, but I am Council! I shall not be moved.
* * *
Bella flew away, a tight smile on her features. He had talked. They always talked. In that they were highly predictable. It didnt take much, a few whispered phrases that created a mental picture, likening the victims scrotum to a container of Jiffy-Pop popcorn, with the application of an appropriate heat source being imminent. The trick was using another language. Catalan was ideal, as it sounded much like Spanish, but was different enough that a listener, especially one in fear of his life, could not readily decipher it. Flash a little flame, repeat in English, and the bad guy would inevitably collapse like a house of cards. There was one more advantage that Bella had over most others hero interrogators. She meant it. While others might threaten violence or perhaps death, Bella backed up every threat she made. Honesty was contagious. Clay had come clean on the location of his particular Council base and had given Bella an extra little bit of information; the person in Willys picture was there. Clay had even come up with the subjects name, or at least the name he was using now. Back in Spain, Bella had known him as Julio Llamazares; and had made his unfortunate acquaintance two months after her fathers disappearance.
She had first seen him at the Cantina where she spent her evenings waiting tables. He would always take the same corner table, and sit with his back nestled into the corner so he could watch the entire room. It did not matter who was at the table when he arrived, they were quickly ushered to new seating and a bottle of red and a single glass was on Julios table before he finished settling himself. He was a known commodity, or rather , a made-himself-known commodity. He worked for one of Francos elite police squads. His presence meant that someone was being warned. Not watched. Warned. Deliberately. Carmen avoided him as much as possible. The man dealt with secrets, and her own were as likely to see her vanish like her father. She visited his table when she had to; only when she had to. She never spoke to him if it could be avoided, and when she did she kept her head down and her demeanor submissive. Her father was gone, but she still had her mother and brother to watch over; if she was noticed, her family would be noticed. It was perhaps the hardest thing she had ever had to do; just seeing him filled her with an uncontrollable, burning rage, and with the rage came the fires.
It had started with a police car. There were not many in those days, and each was precious. It had driven past Carmen two nights after her father had vanished, the red lights of its domes casting a hellish glow as it barreled down the street. Carmen had lowered her gaze, unwilling to draw attention to herself. The rage inside of her bubbled up for a moment, and she thrust it towards to car. The rear bumper flared red, the chrome vaporizing. The tires all blew simultaneously, the white-hot axels buckling as they could no longer support the weight of the car. The engine block snapped audibly. Carmen could feel the gas tank give way and tried to draw back the flame. There was an explosion, but no force or power, only a rush of heat through her as she somehow drew the energy into her body. The two members of the Guardia Civil stumbled away as the car sank into itself. Carmen had run up to them, asking if they were hurt. It wasnt concern over their well being; but a subterfuge, being obvious in order to draw attention away from herself as the cause of the incident. It worked. They had not been hurt, and although shaken, had risen to the bait admirably. One had even offered her a ride home before laughing self-consciously at the offer and pointing to the ruined vehicle.
That had been where everything had started.
* * *
I dont know what he did. LoraLai entered command after command into the keyboard and was rewarded with a great deal of nothing. No matter what she did, she could not undo the changes Superball had made. Or make any changes to the display system at all. It defied all logic. She took a slow, calming breath; there had to be an answer. Superball did not have clearance to make changes to the base; but all the changes listed his ID and clearance. How had he done it?
Can we reset the system? Eva leaned over LoraLais shoulder.
It would have to be a full system restart. LoraLai said. And I do mean everything; every computer, generator. Everything. It will take us at least 48 hours to get everything back up and running properly; computers, teleporters, the works; and thats assuming whatever he did hasnt damaged the startup sequence.
Its all working now isnt it? Eva asked.
Yes. Aside from the obvious, everything is doing exactly what it is supposed to do. LoraLai admitted.
Then we cant shut it down. Evas shoulders slumped somewhat. She considered asking Superball what he had done, but that was likely to be more problematic; besides he had vanished moments after she arrived, claiming that he was being called to assist his side-kick Reporter-girl. They only had one problem currently, why compound it. LoraLai was brilliant and would surely be able to undo whatever Superball had done. The priorities were to let LoraLai work uninterrupted, and somehow keep Bella from returning to the base. Fortunately she was on a mission, and that gave them time. Eva touched the sword at her hip; this went well beyond any reasonable definition of a prankit was Eva didnt know what it was, but she really, really didnt like it. Fortunately it was a self correcting problem. She would tell Bella, Bella would deal with Superball.
Eva sighed, and looked around the headquarters. Every decoration featuring the Vitruvian man had been altered to feature well the pose was the same. The computer monitors were all cycling a series of pictures; and the large hologram over the tactical table had a 3d extrapolation of one of the photos that slowly rotated to allow the viewer every possible angle and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Shizuru was staring at it, her features flushed.
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I know its embarrassing. Eva said consolingly.
Embarassing? Shizuru started, caught be surprise by Evas comment. Yes Embarrassing. Its embarrassing. Very
Well, LoraLai should have it fixed up soon. Eva said.
I know a little about the systems. Shizuru volunteered, moving over to one of the other consoles, she pulled a memory stick out of her pocket. Ill see if I can help out.
Thanks. Eva said. I have to mobilize the rest of the team. I need all the portals monitored; and the medical transporter.
Hi everyone! The teleport pad flared bright blue. There was a collected gasp that faded in relief as Minuet Mac Hine materialized. She skipped off the pad and headed for the others. Its really busy out there today. They let Frostfire out again, but a bunch of us dragged him back in. Did you know he has his own cell? It even has a revolving door. Oh and the Ghost Ship is cruising Independence Port so I was busy there and have you seen Wide?
He was here a few minutes ago. Eva said with as much calm as she could manage. I think he headed out to Talos. You should be able to catch up with him.
Okay! Thanks! Min said enthusiastically. Why are there naked pictures of Bella all over the place?
Eva paused, gathering her thoughts for an answer. There were no good answers to the question. Honest replies; but not good answers. Minuets bright red hair flashed another warning across Evas mind. Morgan. Not only would she have to deal with Bellas reaction, but her current boyfriend too. A boyfriend capable of putting his fist through a brick wall. It was too much to hope that his temper was less fiery than Bellas. No. It was too much to hope that his temper was a third as fiery as Bellas.
Superball decided to play a little joke. Eva said. Um.. Do you know where your brother is?
Hes having dinner with the Mac Hine. Minuets father was never daddy, pater or even pop. He hasnt seen this has he?
It was a day for reflection; Eva tried to keep a blush from rising on her features. It was likely that Morgan had seen everything in the pictures; he just hadnt seen it in the current context; that context being hovering over the holo-display while rubbing soapy bubbles all over a six foot blonde.
I dont think so. Eva managed; perhaps she could kill two birds with one stone. Do you think you could convince Morgan to try and keep Bella out of the base for a little while?
Um sure. Minuet agreed. What do I tell him?
You dont. Eva said. Just tell him that theyve both been working really hard and should take the rest of the evening off.
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Oh you must be kidding! The conversation was interrupted by LoraLais indignant outburst.
Youve made progress? Eva was pleased with the interruption, even if she dreaded the specter of further problems.
Ive solved the problem. LoraLai said, shutting down the console. The displays in the base remained unchanged; cycling through the various images.
Why do I sense a but coming on. Eva said.
You do. LoraLai managed a dry smile. The city should know better than to purchase software from the lowest bidder. Okay, heres where it gets complicated. The emergency systems can accept commands from any supergroup member. They also have a failsafe to act if the person does not respond in a certain amount of time after entering a command. Now for every user the system has a command delay associated with execution. It is normally five seconds. That allows you to catch your mistakes before the system applies them. You cannot reduce it to less than five seconds.
But you can increase it. Eva slumped. I think I might have an idea where you are going.
Exactly. LoraLai said. You can increase it. This still wouldnt allow you to do anything you arent allowed to do. Or thats the idea. Unfortunately there is a hole in the code; if the duration is greater than that set in the emergency systems, it uses the emergency system override; even if it isnt an emergency command. Theres the bug. Superball increased his command delay window past the emergency response automated response. That allowed the command to execute; and the display systems wont respond to any further commands until his command delay expires.
How long? Eva asked.
Eight more hours. LoraLai said. Ive fixed the hole, but until the timer runs out I cant do anything about the display system. Not without shutting everything down.
Good work. Eva managed a smile. With teamwork, hard work and a little luck they might make it through this un-singed. Now we just have to keep Bella out for eight hours.
Um... Eva. Shizuru rose from the console she was working on, tucking the memory stick into her shirt pocket. Its been a really long day for me. Do you mind if I zip home and catch some sleep?
No, go ahead. Eva said, noting Shizuru was still a little flushed. She had every reason to be embarrassed. Ill call if we need help.
Thanks. Shizuru said. Ill see you later.
* * *
Almost everyone loves the glamour of superheroes. The thought echoed through Bellas head. Yes, superheroes were glamorous; but the public never really knew about the reality of the job. The long hours; the countless injuries; the dry cleaning bills after the all too common sewer missions and the freeze dried pigeons. Most heroes didnt know about the pigeons either; but Bella had found them useful. Tabitha Fabishs shop in Talos served the mystic community with all manner of amulets, artifacts and trinkets. Bella had discovered them while poking around in the nooks and crannies of the shop when Morgan had been purchasing a new amulet. Next to the complete Crowley library and Skull of Amon had been a wicker basket that was near to overflowing with freeze-dried pigeons. While Bella had no idea what spell required them, and had never bothered to ask; they were cheap, re-useable and combined with a clamp and a spring, one of the best ways out there to defeat a simple security camera. The Council base she was about to crack open was located in an abandoned warehouse in Kings Row; the only outward sign being the very new looking camera, watching the door from a telephone pole across the street. It was childs play to fly up behind the camera, slip the clamp and bird in place, the spring causing the expired avian to bob and weave in front of the camera in best pigeon fashion. The ruse would not be good for too long, but it would certainly be good for long enough.
Whos there? Identify yourself! The heavy steel echoed as Bella rapped on it with a gloved fist. The voice from inside was muffled. Bella could picture the sentry trying to see the door through the pigeon baffled camera. She waited and rapped again. There was a shuffling noise and the small metal view-port in the door opened. Bella smiled up at the Council members blank, goggled eyes. Then the lenses cracked and the man fell away with a thump. They tended to do that when you unleashed a bolt of plasma capable of burning through a steel door and whomever was behind it. Bella reached through the cantaloupe sized hole and unlocked the door, slipping through and closing it behind her. She paused to wave at the image of the pigeon on the security monitor. The body at her feet stirred and groaned in pain. After so many years of experience Bella knew exactly how much damage the human body could endure before passing out or dying.
How many years? Bella winced. Too many. The first few had been very rough around the edges too. The word superhero had just been catching on, and Bella had adopted it early. She could still remember her first time. The statue of Franco in the square. The bronze melting under her will until Francos head was taking up the position previously occupied by his backside. Hardly the most eloquent political statement, but it had been a start. The costume had come shortly thereafter. She had deliberately made it as racy as possible, far more so than most in that day; hoping to further distance shy, demure, bashful bar-girl Carmen Santos from fiery, sensual, utterly ruthless, Bella Fuego. It had worked extremely well; sex, violence and freedom marching shoulder to shoulder. Soon her exploits were nowhere to be seen in the papers of Spain; but lauded everywhere else. Shortwave radios abounded, hoping to catch a news snippet about her on BBC or Radio Italia. A chance meeting with Diana Poulis had also opened a new avenue for Carmen, as the International Super Teams, while not currently recognized in Spain, were willing to add extra support on the side. This included the midnight evacuation of her family to Britain; and thanks to an interesting and generous offer from an American Mens magazine, the funds to establish them in comfort until they could return to Spain.
Four years after her debut, the IST transport carrying her family to safety, rose silently into the sky. Carmen carefully locked the casa and headed off to her last night of work. The moment that she walked in, everyone, Julio Lamazares included, knew something had changed. Carmens normally tightly buttoned white blouse was open nearly to her navel, displaying a scandalous amount of barely restrained cleavage, her skirt was cut high and split almost to her hip and her hair, normally bound in a tight bun at the base of her neck, cascaded down her back like an ebony waterfall. Julio had been struck dumb and offered no resistance as she tossed his table aside, sending his wine glass and bottle flying, and climbed onto his lap.
I have waited for this so long, but I was so worried about my family I could not Carmen had pressed her body against Julio, running her fingers through his thick, wavy hair. The man shifted slightly his arms going around her. He felt a small hand close around his throat and lock down with surprising strength. What did you do to my father you son of a bitch!
Julio screamed as the flame exploded out of Carmen enveloping him.
* * *
Oh please! Superball wailed, clutching at Evas ankles like they were the last two long-stemmed champagne glasses on the doomed ship Titanic. Ill do anything! Anything! Scrub floors! Wash windows! Walk dogs! Clean the little sticky bits of trolls off your sword! Read a Doctor Phil book! Anything!
Eva considered the offer as Superball groveled. It was an uncomfortable sensation; somehow it was more embarrassing to be the recipient of the groveling. That wasnt fair. She was supposed to be punishing him, not the other way around. A call to Reporter Girl had revealed that Superball had not in fact been assisting her. However, she was happy to call Superball up and tell him that his goose would not just be cooked, but agonizingly slow-roasted if he did not return to face the music. Superball had returned and in a consummate display of obsequious agility, neatly dodged LoraLai, Minuet and Morgan MacHine to land prostrate in front of Eva. It was a brilliant maneuver, as the assembled membership of the Legendary would be forced to follow Evas lead, rather than jumping atop him individually. Strangely enough Morgan had reacted to the change in decoration with a outward calm that was both reassuring and more than a little concerning. He either didnt mind, knew that Bella would be dealing with the situation, or was planning to seek redress on the party responsible at another time; in a dark ally; with no witnesses.
I am very disappointed with you. Eva tried to sound stern around her blush. How do you think Bella feels?
Firm, well muscled and delightfully warm to the touch. Jackie Frost commented. Morgan, would you concur?
Jackie. Thats not helping. Eva warned.
You forgot slick, slippery and soapy. Superball added helpfully from the floor. He ducked his head back down, cringing like a puppy. Sorry! She started it! No. Wide started it. He told me about it! Blame him! Better yet, blame her! She told him!
What? Minuet realized that Superball was pointing to her. I did no such thing. No wait I did. I overheard Morgan talking to Bella about it.
You were spying on us? Morgan turned on his sister with a disapproving scowl.
I wasnt spying on you! Minuet glared at her brother. You were the one who invited me over to your place for dinner.
Well most people knock on the door instead of teleporting right into the kitchen. Morgan countered. We never would have talked about it if we knew you were there.
Cute but dumb. Jackie gestured, enveloping Superballs lower torso in a sheet of ice. Nice try sweetie.
The manic hero had used the distraction of sibling rivalry to crawl on his belly towards the teleportation pad. He pulled frantically, trying to drag himself and the large block of ice the last few feet. He was making good progress until Morgan blurred into motion, moving to head him off.
Aiiggh! Superball pounded the floor in frustration. My dreams of stardom as an animated character are over. I always hoped I would end up as Woody Woodpecker, but youve turned me into Chilly-Willy.
It no less then you deserve. Eva said shortly. Jackie has every reason to be angry with you too.
Im not angry, but I do intend to seek satisfaction. You can give me satisfaction, cant you Superball? Jackie smile was predatory; she knelt down in front of the prostrate hero, leaning forward until his head was in danger of being enveloped in her extraordinary cleavage. She slowly traced a finger along the edge of her almost non-existent bikini top. Mmmm. Is it cold in here, or is it just me? Both. So tell me Superball. Do you bounce? Do you bounce hard? Do you bounce hard, fast, and furiously? Im looking for a strong, virile, man who isnt afraid of a long, hard, sweaty, bounce.
Superballs response was limited to a tiny, muffled, squeak. He managed to nod without face-planting into Jackies breasts.
Good. Jackie rose and started down haughtily. You can bounce down to Spankys Java Emporium every day this month and bring me an iced latte, double cream, with a shot of vanilla and some chocolate sprinkles.
Ouch. Autstralis managed to succinctly sum up the male reaction in a single word. Morgan, and Wide Receiver silently nodded their agreement while Minuet rolled her eyes.
You got off easy. Eva managed, even more embarrassed than before.
No. I was just kidding. Jackie said. Bellas going to kill him when she finds out, so Ill have to get my own latte. All kidding aside, we should just leave laughing boy here, trussed up like a turkey. You have no idea how angry shes going to be about this. We all tease her about her temper, but if she lets go, I mean really lets go, there isnt any force in the world that will keep her from tearing the heart out of this ptite conchon and roasting it in front of his face while he bleeds to death on the floor.
If we do this right Bella isnt going to find out. Eva said. I need everyone to spread out. Watch the portals. LoraLai, you take the base medical transporter. Australis Talos; Min Kings Row, Jackie Atlas, Superball, Croatoa and dont think youre getting away with this. Meredith and Marianne have Steel and Skyway. Wide Reciever has Brickston, Shizuru is in Founders, Yukiyo is on duty in IP, and Ive got Peregrine. If any of you see Bella on her way, you contact the base immediately.
What about me. Morgan asked.
Free safety. Eva explained. When you get the call you go through to the appropriate portal and head Bella off.
Head her off? Morgan cocked an eyebrow.
Allow me to explain. Jackie leaned over and whispered something into Morgans ear. She followed it up with several other somethings. Morgan flushed a bright red, a few stray drops of sweat appearing on his brow.
Got it. Morgan managed. Thats not how they did it in the old westerns.
You all know what to do. Task Force Firestopper is a go. Eva managed. Her predecessor had not warned her that there would be days like this. Zombies she could handle. Ghosts, no problem. Giant squids attacking shipping, a walk in the park. Perhaps there was a tried and true strategy for keeping a heroine with an explosive temper from blowing up a teammate who had posted naked pictures of her all over the super base. Perhaps there was, but she didnt know it. No one had bothered to tell her. The best she could manage was making it up as she went along. What Eva did know was that everyone had worked really, really hard to build up the base to its current state, and she didnt want Bella to burn it all down. Not that shed blame her if she did. If they got through this with the base burnt around them, but Superball still alive, it would be a victory.
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* * *
Archon Cartney was not a happy man. This was unfortunate, as he had every reason to be. His years with the Council had been very good to him. He was a physical specimen without equal, approaching the very apex of the perfect human fighting machine. His muscles strong, his reflexes lightening fast, his mind honed as sharp as a razors edge. His loyalty was unshakeable. While the lesser recruits were regularly dosed with hypno-supplements, subliminal instructions and psychotropic drugs; the Archons were above all that. They didnt just serve the Council, they were the Council. The acme of the leadership. They commanded life and death, not only for their men, but for all the citizens of Paragon; who existed only because the Council allowed them to.
He should have been happy; but he wasnt. To start with, The Maestro had sent a new Archon to Kings Row; and Cartney was supposed to help him establish himself in the city. He had been told, that the man in question was a veteran of the Councils early days, and was to be treated with the deference due his experience. In other words, Archon Llassa was in charge. Or more bluntly, bend over Cartney, youre being corn-cobbed. It got worse from there; Archon Llassa was a true Nospheratu; a recipient of the latest parasite treatment. Stronger, faster, tougher and more resilient than anything human; and gifted with the psychic powers to cloud minds, sap the will and even drain the life-force from men. He also looked like a slightly older Antonio Banderas and his chiseled, Castilian features drew women to him in droves.
The second reason not to be happy was that his base was under attack; serious attack. This wasnt the loud but ineffective local police or the even louder, if still largely ineffective Longbow patrols. Someone, or something, was moving through his operation like a tsunami. The main console was lit up with alerts. A station would report a sighting, there would be the hiss of static, followed by the sounds of explosions, gunfire, roaring flames, the screams of men, some more static, and then the little light denoting the station would change to red, indicating that all Council soldiers in the area had been rendered non-operational.
Your men are inadequate. Archon Llassa said with a haughty disdain. Archon Cartney gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to backhand the superior Archons pointed teeth out of his mouth. He turned his attentions back to the main console. He considered for a moment and then dropped the security doors. It would keep re-enforcements from entering the main command center, but twelve inches of hardened steel should keep any attacker out. There was another way out too, but Archon Cartney had not briefed his superior on it yet.
Why do you not go to join the fight? Archon Llassa regarded the blast doors. It looked like he was about to speak again, but his jaw twitched. A small portion of the northern blast door had started to glow red. In a moment it went from red, to yellow and then incandescent white. Archon Cartney dove for cover as the metal exploded outwards, sending white-hot gouts of flame throughout the control center. The third reason not to be happy walked through the hole, the dripping rivulets of molten steel sublimating as they struck her fiery aura.
Archon Llassa, Bella Fuego. Bella Fuego, Archon Llassa. Cartney made the introductions. The Archons own thoughts were manifest. They were about to get corn-cobbed.
We know each other. Archon Llassa hissed, his teeth elongating. Carmen Santos. You are looking well.
Julio. Bellas costume was smudged by smoke and bore several small tears from where bullets and night-wolf claws had made it past her flaming aura. I never thought you would dare show your face again.
I have a new face. Julio said tightly. You cost me everything. I was to rule Spain after Franco, but when I fell he relented to that weakling Juan Carlos.
Generalissimo Franco never abdicated. Bella laughed, her hands on her hips. The laughter cut off abruptly. Of course. No one told you; not that you had ears to hear at the time. Or eyes to see.
Archon Cartney watched as the pair sized each other up. It was about to get very, very, messy. He had a duty to support his brother Archon; to stand by his side in the heat of battle. To triumph over those who dared to mock the Council. Which was all great on paper, he told himself as he kicked open the escape chute and dived into it, closing and securing the opening behind him. The Council had to be warned of this latest development; reinforcements would need to be summoned, and he would not be able to do that while recovering from third degree burns in the Zig infirmary.
I can see you have found allies that are worthy of you. Bella observed dryly. We have unfinished business between us Julio.
Yes. We do. Archon Llassa held up a hand. The skin stretched and tore as it elongated into a savage claw. You took my eyes. My ears. My tongue and my destiny. I shall return the favor. You should have killed me caida.
I wanted to. Bella admitted. But vendetta must be exact. You only carried out the order you were given; I broke the Generalissimos sword; but killed the hand that wielded it.
With an inhuman scream of rage, Archon Llassa charged.
* * *
Medical transport beacon! LoraLai announced, her eyes flashing across the monitor. Bellas beacon is in the red. Shes in Kings Row! Morgan. Morgan?
LoraLai glanced at the empty seat beside her. She could hear the teleportation portal cycle; presumably Morgan was already through and on his way. Bellas medical beacon remained lit, but had not been activated. Was it being blocked? LoraLai tried to override, but the system wouldnt respond. Bella had to be deliberately blocking the signal. That didnt make sense either; she was in mortal danger, her vital signs growing weaker by the second. She had to get out.
All units, return to base. LoraLai keyed the communicator. Gathering reinforcements seemed to be a prudent idea.
* * *
Bella let Julio drop to the floor, ignoring the sickly smell of burnt flesh. She had taken both of his eyes and his manhood before he had finished his story. There were no surprises. Esteban Santos had been taken; imprisoned; and allowed to starve to death. Bella glanced down at the ruin of a man at her feet. He was still alive, drawing shallow breaths through a seared throat. He would live or he would die; he would not raise a hand against her family again; of that she was certain. He had also furnished, unasked, a very interesting piece of information; a route into the Generalissimos heavily guarded palace; a route, if he was to be believed, known only to Julio and Franco.
The rest had been almost anti-climatic. When the Generalissimo had returned to his chambers he was met by a raven haired beauty who explained that his normal companion was in the shower but would be joining them forthwith. By the time the aforementioned companion emerged from the shower all that remained of the Generalissimo were a few scraps of ash, splintered, heat-warped bone, and small puddles of gold that had once been the buttons on his uniform.
The Generalissimo had not put up any fight. He was Spanish and understood vendetta all too well. He had refused to abdicate his position, and had stood unmoving as Bella turned him into a flaming pyre. Perhaps he had not believed her capable of it. What an odd thing to remember now. Bella could taste the blood in her mouth. Whatever Julio was he wasnt human anymore, and his powers were monstrous. He had all but ignored her flames, driving into her with long claws, his assault unrelenting. She could feel him pressing at her mind with every blow; it took all her concentration to keep him out; leaving her vulnerable to his physical assault. She spat up another mouthful of blood. It was getting dark, and very cold.
* * *
Archon Cartney dropped into the alley behind his base, landing silently. He had made it out; now all that remained was to turn this series of very unfortunate events to his advantage. He would summon re-enforcements; if Archon Llassa survived, he would be mollified by the concern. If Archon Llassa was slain, well then it was the Spanish Archons changes to procedure that allowed the raid to take place; it wasnt like the record of his changes would survive. A tight smile creased Archon Cartneys features, even if Llassa survived, he might be in a weakened state and succumb to his injuries. Such things happened.
Hold it! Archon Cartney rolled his eyes. This was the last thing he needed. A hero. Some insignificant cape was going to try and stop him. Okay, on second glance he was a big cape, large muscles, and an ensemble of dark green leather and buckles. Perhaps green was the new black in the hero world. Either way he was in the way and would be swiftly dealt with. The cape dropped into a fighting stance, looking remarkably calm and relaxed. Archon Cartney opened the fight with a hard, straight punch to the capes jaw. The heros head shifted slightly, the punch sliding off to the side harmlessly. He took a half step in and delivered a perfectly timed head-but to the Archons face.
A fourth reason to be unhappy. The thought whizzed past Cartneys consciousness as his nose broke with a snap, spreading a blinding pain through his whole head. Contrary to popular fiction it was nigh impossible to strike the nose with sufficient force to send bone fragments shooting into the brain; what wasnt fiction was that the blow was insanely painful, causing the body to experience momentary shock, the eyes to water and the brain to take a few seconds out of its busy day to properly assess the damage. A few seconds are an eternity in a fistfight; especially against a highly-trained, aggressive opponent. Reasons to be unhappy five through nine checked in immediately. Broken ribs on the right side and a knee that would need significant reconstruction on the left. Ten through thirteen followed, encompassing a shattered collarbone, dislocated left elbow, mild concussion and spitting a dentists office worth of forcefully extracted teeth onto the dirty pavement. Finally a reprieve. The cape coiled up like a spring and delivered a spectacular roundhouse that lifted the reeling Archon off his feet and slammed him into the brick wall of the alley with enough force to leave a crater. Cartney savored the one happy moment in his recent experience; blissful, pain-free unconsciousness. He slumped to the ground in a sprawl.
Morgan shook the blood from his hands with a swift, practiced moment. The skin of his knuckles, abraded from the repeated, forceful, contact with the Archons body armour, closed over as if the wounds had never existed. Bella was in trouble, somewhere in the warehouse. He had to find her. As Morgan took a step forward the whole roof of the warehouse exploded violently upwards, a billowing cloud of flame reaching towards the sky. As quickly as the flame erupted, it receded, as if drawn back down to its source. All that remained was a few stray wisps of smoke in the air and a few flame scarred shingles raining down. Morgan leapt upwards. The hole in the roof was likely to be the easiest entrance to the base; and he could be fairly certain that Bella was inside.
* * *
Shes back on her feet. LoraLai announced as the status monitor on the medical transport beacon shifted colours from red to a bright green. Shes going to be Thats not possible. The monitor flashed another alert as the biometric monitoring patterns spiked to levels well beyond the systems capacity to measure them. The readout froze, clearly the product of another lowest bid contract. LoraLai turned back to Eva.
This is either very good, or very bad. Eva noted.
Take notes little piggie. Jackie poked Superball in the ribs, relief colouring her voice. This is just a warm up. You get to be the main event.
* * *
Victory. Julio Llamazares, now Archon Lhassa, raised his battered foe with one arm. The caida was still trying to fight, but there was nothing left. The few meager flames she was producing were being thrown wide. Missing him entirely to splash against the consoles of the command center. A strident alarm began ringing, but he ignored it. Revenge was about to be served.
Now it ends. Lhassa drew Bella against his chest and leaned down, his long canine teeth brushing her throat. Goodbye Carmen Santos.
Julio Carmen managed from between clenched teeth. The last burst of defiance was delightful, and Archon Llassa forced his thoughts against hers, eager to taste her despair. He reeled back almost dropping his victim. His thoughts burned; her mind held no despair, only a burning rage; the intensity of it terrifying.
It is nothing. Llassa managed, regaining his composure. He yanked back hard on Bellas hair, drawing her throat taught as he prepared to rip it out. The alarm in the background rose to a violent crescendo. Then the world exploded. The reactor. The base drew its power from a micro fusion reactor; but there was no way it could explode. There were multiple fail-safes. A column of flame roared through the command center; Llassa threw up his arms in a feeble attempt at protecting himself. There was no pain. The flames ignored him; spending their intensity on
Vete al infierno! Bella roared as the flames smashed into her; soaking into her skin leaving it untouched; the terrible claw wounds healing instantly; her faltering aura rekindling and blazing forth with white hot intensity. Archon Llassa hissed and released his grip on her, his hands burnt down to the bones. The flames in the command center were gone. All of. them. That was impossible. The reactor contained the power of a small atomic bomb. There was no way a mere human could hold such power.
Mierda. Llassa swallowed hard. She had no intention of holding such power; not when there was a convenient target directly in front of her.
* * *
The paramedics said hed live. Morgan said as Bella walked away from the warehouse; he slowed his pace slightly, so his longer strides did not outdistance her. Who was he?
An old enemy. Bella said. One I had not seen in more than twenty years.
You might have to wait another twenty for him to show up again. Morgan winced slightly; suddenly aware that she had known this foe longer than he had been alive.
Perhaps. I do not think he will cross me again. Bella said. I have spared his life twice now; there will be no third time.
Okay. Morgan considered the statement; either she didnt expect him to cross her again, or the third time she wouldnt be as forgiving. Time to change the subject. You were lucky the reactor blew when it did.
There was no luck involved Morgan. Bella chuckled. I visited the power station and disabled all the safety interlocks prior to confronting Archon Llassa. The only things keeping the reactor in check were those few devices in the main control room.
So if things went badly you were prepared. Morgan nodded.
You must always be prepared; you know that. You are prepared now, arent you? Or must we find an apothecary? Bella smiled, her tongue appearing to touch the corner of her lips. Morgan swallowed hard. A costume as tight as Bellas hid nothing. He knew the signs; and it was time to strike while the iron was hot. They were nearly at the teleportation portal.
Why dont we take the monorail back to my place. You can grab a shower, Ill make dinner and Morgan let the offer trail off. Bella was eyeing him from face to lower than his belt. Dinner would have to wait.
* * *
Should we really be watching this? Min asked. On the small monitor screen Morgan had blurred, dashing around Bella and sweeping her up in a passionate embrace, leaning down to kiss her. The teleportation portal flashed several times as the rest of the Task Force Firestopper reappeared, and gathered around to watch.
No. Relief was manifest on Evas features. It looked like Morgan had the situation in hand. Well in hand. Eva felt a blush rising. On the screen Morgan had drawn back slightly, raising one hand and tenderly running it Along Bellas cheek. She turned slightly into the caress, kissing the hand. We can all relax now.
Min let out a gasp that turned into a giggle as Bella blurred into motion, leaping onto Morgan, her legs wrapping around his waist as she slammed her body against his with staggering force. Too much force, as Morgans tottered backwards, trying to regain his balance against the remorseless, demanding, Spanish onslaught. For a moment it looked like he would succeed, but his feet went out from under him and he fell backwards into the blue circle of the teleportation portal, Bella still pressed to his body.
Were dead. In the moment of panic and horror no one really knew who made the statement, only that the portal had flashed blue, dumping a prostate Morgan onto the floor, with Bella straddling him dominantly. She glanced up at the assembled crowd, a single black eyebrow rising in an unspoken question. She got to her feet and surveyed the base, her eyes resting briefly on each of the displays before moving on. Then she focused her attention of the members of the Legendary; staring at each of them in turn, her expression unreadable.
Who is responsible for this? Bella said calmly.
Jaccuse. Jackie pointed a finger at Superball, who as desperately trying to fade into the back of the crowd. There was a shift as everyone abandoned the space around him.
Explain. Bella let the single word hang in the air. Eva was about to protest, but Bella cut her off with an abrupt gesture.
I cant. Superball managed. I found out about your Playboy shoots and looked them up.
And placed them on display where everyone could see. Bella nodded. Next time ask me first; I have the originals, not these poorly scanned copies.
What? Superball goggled as Jackie burst into laughter. Butbut She said youd kill me! Orribly. With a capital O.
And you believed me. That was your first mistake, Im a very talented liar. Jackie managed, trying to catch her breath. Tear out your heart and burn it in front of you while you bleed to death? My petite chou-chou, you should have seen your face. Oh and since you are still alive I expect my lattes starting tomorrow.
What? Wait a second. Eva said gesturing. You dont mind this this
Dear. Bella smiled. I would not have posed for these pictures if I did not want them to be seen. Perhaps the venue for display is not entirely appropriate; but it is certainly nothing that I am embarrassed about. I was quite happy with the way all three shoots turned out; when you are of an age I can introduce you to the photographer, should you be interested.
No! No thank you. Eva was blushing red. So youre not angry?
A little. Bella admitted with a positively wicked smile. But I prefer to channel that anger into more productive activities. Morgan; I believe you mentioned something about a shower?
www.magma.ca/~revdark/COH...nocent.jpg
The pictures are linked.
A Day in the Life.
I heard the news today Oh boy,
That Spanish bitch just set a bunch of fires.
And though the fires were rather small,
We had to douse them all,
Now we know how many fires it takes to burn a Counsil hall,
She loves to burn us down
Archon Lenin Cartneys lament.
Bella Fuego cracked one eye open and immediately regretted the effort. The pain was overwhelming. Every inch of her body, from the tips of her toes to the highest follicle on her head protested the single movement vehemently. That figured. After several minutes of trying to convince herself not to do it, Bella opened her other eye. Figures clustered above her, speaking in whispers that echoed through her tender head like thunderclaps. She blinked, a touch of fire returning to her strange, red eyes.
Um Carmen, are you okay? The blur on the right was topped in diverging puffs of red. It was either Minuet Mac Hine, or someone had sawn Zweitkinders head in half. We were all worried about you.
Bella considered the slightly Scots flavored syllables, as her mind tried to rearrange them into something approaching language. Spanish? No. English, it had to be English. Bella considered her own position for a moment; where was she? The floor underneath her was carpeted in a functional, industrial weave; that was strewn with numerous dustbunnies, popcorn, fragments of corn chips, and a fragrant, overlarge, athletic sock that could have fit a medium sized rhino, or more likely, Wide Receiver. Where was she? The hospital. No it couldnt be the hospital; it wasnt nearly clean enough and there were no interns scurrying in and telling her to take off her top and breathe deeply. The air was cool and had the taste of industrial processing. The base. She was in the Legendarys base. Her powers of deduction, honed by years of crime-fighting, were slowly coming back into play. She was in the base. So far so good. The blur on the right was definitely Minuet Mac Hine. The blur on the right was substantially larger, mostly green, and also topped with a shock of red hair. It might have been Morgan, in fact it was probably Morgan; but that wasnt important at the moment. What was important was the ceramic mug that the probably-Morgan blur was holding in his right hand.
Coffee. Brewed strong, hot and black. Bella reached out a hand that somehow fell short of the steaming, highly caffeinated, holy grail. She tried to get up but found that she was wedged in place. The coffee remained tauntingly out of her reach. Why couldnt she get up? The situation mocked her. Minuets voice continued to slice into her brain like a band-saw; while Morgan and more importantly for the moment, the coffee, were still distant.
How did you end up behind the couch? Minuet asked.
Bella paused, her reaching arm fell back down. She moved it slightly so it was no longer laying across the sock. It was a very good question. She considered it; how did she end up behind the couch. It had all started with Miss Liberty. Thats right. Miss Liberty had been congratulating her on reaching Security Level 43. Right. Good, everything made sense so far. What had happened next? Pocket D. DJ Zero had dedicated Pat Benetars All Fired Up to the hottest heroine in the house. That had been sweet of him. Accurate, but sweet nonetheless. Then the bar overlooking the club had set up the line of 43 flaming shooters. So far so good. She vaguely remembered a very uneven flight to the base portal and then coming into the recreation room and Had she really been dancing on the globe? The last thing she remembered was the Northwest Territories spinning wildly to the right and Yes, that would explain it.
Morgan, move the couch please. Bella managed, her throat was parched, lending a husky rasp to her already sultry voice. The light grew brighter as Morgan reached down with one hand, grabbed the end of the couch and pivoted it away from the wall. Carmen motioned him over, and reaching up, followed his thigh up to his belt. It took her two tries, but she eventually grabbed on and used it to slowly hoist herself up off the floor. She could feel Morgan quiver slightly under her touch. She took the mug from his hand, oblivious to the heat and held it under her nose, inhaling deeply. The headache and other pains faded almost immediately. She took a long sip of the searing brew; feeling it work its magic on her. There were very few things Bella enjoyed more than a cup of coffee; and her current state, hangover included, bumped all of them further down the list. After the second cup they would climb back up to their usual positions. Bella leaned back as she drained the mug in three long swallows. She sighed with an almost orgasmic satisfaction and tried to hand the cup back to Morgan. He didnt immediately take it.
Um Bella Min tried to interrupt. Bella silenced her with a gesture. She tried to hand the mug to Morgan again; but he remained unmoving, his features flushed red. Odd. She pushed his chest with the mug, trying to draw a reaction.
Bella! Min pointed. Oh, that was it. Bella noted that her jacket was draped haphazardly across one of the sensors on the worktable and her brief, strapless, top had shifted significantly during her sojourn behind the couch; leaving certain landmarks rather conspicuous by their presence. Morgan continued to blush, while desperately trying not to stare. It wasnt like he hadnt seen them before; and rather more, but he still blushed. It would have been sweet and endearing if his deer-in-the-headlights paralysis was not keeping him from fetching her another cup of coffee. Bella grabbed Morgans hand, turned it palm up and placed the coffee mug in it. Now that both hands were free she tugged her top back into position.
Do you want another cup? Morgan asked, shaking off his paralysis.
Por favor. Bella flopped down on the couch. She glanced at the chronometer. It was a few minutes past four in the afternoon. Not bad; the worst of the days heat would have passed; leaving plenty of time for other endeavors. She briefly organized her agenda for the day. First priority, second cup of coffee. Second Priority, third cup of coffee. Shower. Then a solid meal and she would be once again fit for duty. One of her informants had been whispering sweet nothings about a Counsel Recruiting push; that certainly warranted investigation, and shortly thereafter conflagrations; several to be sure. If everything went according to plan she would still have plenty of time to drop in on Morgan and indulge in one, perhaps two of her higher-than-a-cup-of-coffee items on her list of favorite things.
* * *
The shower was full of steam, which poured over the top of the stall and filled the room. The shower facilities at the base were rudimentary, but functional. Bella turned her face towards the shower and let the water pour over her. Another hour of this and she would feel human again. The thought brought a smile to her lips. She didnt have an hour, so she would have to settle for beautiful, desirable, and cranky. The door to the ladies facilities swung open, bringing a blast of cooler air and the distinct smells of rotting flesh and formaldehyde. That did not bode well for completing her shower. Bella pulled back the curtain and glanced out. Evangelia did not look happy. The Legendarys commander was looking slightly singed on the edges and was splattered from head to toes with the semi-liquid detritus of a Vahz Embombed corpse that had exploded. Bella met Evas eyes and nodded. Fortunately the commanders costume was far more concealing than Bellas so it was unlikely that the contamination was too bad. Bella had once pulled a complete Vahz eyeball out of her bra, and Jackie Frost held the unofficial group record, having recovered an entire brain that had been lodged in her cleavage. It was a record that was likely to stand; competition was not particularly fierce; and it was unlikely that anyone would be willing admit to topping it.
Please tell me that theres some hot water left. Eva said, shifting so as not to drop too many bits on the tile floor.
Plenty. Bella stepped out of the shower without turning off the water, she slipped past Eva, taking care not to tread on any of the detritus that had been tracked in. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror over the sink and smiled; taking a moment to turn slightly. Looking great. The combination of a rigorous exercise regime and her particular physiology had kept the years at bay. She may have been 45, but her face and figure were those of a woman half her age. Only a few stray grey streaks in her otherwise full mane of raven black hair gave advertisement to her actual age. Behind her, Eva stepped into the shower without even bothering to strip off her costume. Rather than reach for a towel, Bella raised her arms a made a quick pirouette. A searing wave of heat instantly evaporated every drop of moisture from her body; she was reaching for her hairbrush when Eva emerged from the shower stall with a yipe.
C-c-c-cold. Eva managed. You were taking a cold shower?
Not by the time it reached me. Bella said with a wink as she began brushing out her hair. She quickly gathered it up into a long pony-tail and considered the job done. Clothes were next; or rather lack of them. She threaded the small, crystalline earring through her right ear lobe and locked it in place. One of the more exciting technologies that the visitors from other dimensions had wrought; and uniquely suited for super-heroic activities. Dubbed a costume crystal, it was a packet of memory-matter that could almost instantly reconfigure itself to any form. Its limited memory allowed for a few costumes to be programmed into it. The device was triggered by a vocal cue; the user only had to speak aloud and the change would occur. Bellas own crystal was top of the line, and contained her costume, civies, beach attire, and at least one outfit for special occasions.
Bella Flash! A cloud of fire leapt from Bellas body as she triggered the crystal. The fire was her own touch and had the interesting effect of slowing down the crystals reconfiguration process. She had gotten the idea from a Japanese cartoon that Radica had shown her one afternoon. The earring vanished as clothes appeared out of nowhere, covering her body. Black pants, cut to show her nicely turned ankles and tight enough to advertise her lack of underwear, a brief white bandeau, and a short, black jacket, that allowed flashes of her taught belly and back. Her small, square rimmed glasses appeared and she pushed them up her nose with a practiced gesture. The glasses were another reminder of her age. While in costume she generated a small field of heat over her eyes to compensate for a bit of near-sightedness, but that was secondary. They just looked hot on her. She glanced back at the shower where Eva was making small, disgusted noises as she sluiced corpse bits from her uniform.
In Paragon City the actual processes of choosing a Supergroup Leader were often strange, and like so many things, skewed by bureaucracy. At sixteen, Eva was an unlikely leader for such a disparate group of heroes, and had neither volunteered for the position, or even expected it. It had dropped on top of her, like some many things in life, as a complete surprise. Bella smiled warmly; Eva had risen to the challenge remarkably. It was a tough, thankless job and it often felt like the tribulations were far in excess of the rewards. Bella thought of her own team back in Madrid. The long hours, the constant bickering and squabbling. It had been worth it, but the cost had been most of her time; and had caused more than a few of her current gray hairs. Now it was someone elses problem; and while Bella was always willing to lend a hand, an ear, or a few words of advice; she mostly let Eva figure it out for herself. Besides, having copious free time was still a novelty for Bella, and while Paragon was not as cosmopolitan as Madrid, the city did boast enough interesting attractions to keep her occupied.
What do you have planned today. Eva asked over the noise of the shower.
Council. Bella replied, a little more flatly than she had intended. William has a line on a new cadre of Council recruits. I think they will regret ever hearing the name Paragon City.
This isnt personal is it? Damn. Eva had picked up in the change in her tone.
Yes. Yes it is. Bella said quietly. I know what you are going to say next. I will be careful. I will try and send them to the hospital and not the morgue.
Good luck then. Eva scrubbed industriously at her hair. One more thing.
Eva, I do not lose my temper. Carmen said as she left the showers. I know where it is at all times.
Oh and Bella, can you grab my spare uniform from the locker, please?
And a towel. Bella added. She drew the uniform out and ran a hand over it, warming it to just-out-of-the-dryer temperature. Rather than the usual blue and gold, Evas new costume was a deep black, and the accessories were far more gothic than she would have expected. Faux bone; or at she hoped it was faux. There was an easy way to check, but Bella would not subject Eva to the sight of her licking the uniform. It was a different look for the young hero, that was sure. A concern? Perhaps, but it was easy to forget that Eva was only sixteen, and every sixteen year old, no matter how well adjusted, had their moments.
* * *
Superball stared. Some people were good at staring, but Superball excelled at it. He had taken staring, itself a spectators sport and turned the art of it into a spectators sport. He did not merely stare. He goggled. He eyeballed. He gaped, gawked, gazed and rolled his eyes in amazement. It was often more interesting watching him react to what he was seeing; the performance outstripping the actual subject of his attentions. Bella did her best to ignore him, but it was nearly impossible. It was like watching a car-wreck, or more specifically, watching someone watch a car wreck. She did her best to pretend he wasnt there, which was simply not enough, and turned her attentions back to the refrigerator. She had already loaded her first plate to overflowing with a variety of fruit, cottage cheese and some crudely chopped crudits, and had returned with a second plate to hold a pair of thick turkey sandwiches and a generous helping of patats bravas.
Is there something you find funny? Bella finally snapped. It was a tactically unsound maneuver, but there was something about Superball that just screamed Ask me! Im dying for you to ask me!
Nope. Superball said gamely. Ive always thought Atlas Park needed a second blimp.
Bella smiled, a trace of fire creeping across her eyes. She had asked for it. He had responded. Any further action on her part would lend itself to escalation. It would start out with an exchange of increasingly caustic banter; a brief reconciliation, and then the pranks would begin. They would start small and increase exponentially. If she let it go forward in a matter of days the entire base would be engulfed by it. The last time had been bad enough. Perhaps she should not have melted his video and DVD collection into a single homogenous mass; perhaps he should not have reprogrammed her costume crystal with the Miss Piggy ensemble, including blonde wig, ears, snout, and the inevitable six teats. Bella swallowed her anger, chasing it down with a fork-full of cottage cheese.
Gday Supes, Bella. Australis sauntered in and grabbed a seat at the table. The antipodean Peacebringer was dressed casually in cargo pants, vest and his perpetual corked bush hat. He smiled lazily and leaned back. Owzit then?
Dont get too close. Superball warned in his best Crocodile Hunter imitation. Danger! Danger! Shes a bee-ootiful one, but you get too close to er trough and shell getcha. Youll bleed out an die.
Fine thank you. Bella stabbed a patat with enough force that the tines of her fork scraped against the plate. How are things in Talos?
Fair dinkum. Australis shrugged. Bit of a bother with the Tsoo of late. Been leaning a mite hard on the Warriors and somethings about the break.
Territory or commerce? Bella asked.
Commerce. Australis grabbed a carrot stick off of Bellas plate, the gesture causing Superball to dive for cover. Mostly merchant shakedowns, restaurants, bookstores and the like. Seems normal, but it just dont sit right. The Warriors are too angry for it just to be money. Oh bloody hell!
I take it youve just had a revelation. Bella finished one sandwich and started on the next one, chomping it down in four large bites.
Yes. Based on the way you suck food down, your father was a hoover and your mother Superball let the tirade trail off. There was a line and all of Bellas body language was shouting that he had not just crossed over it, but had jumped over, done an impromptu celebratory dance with gratuitous pelvic gestures and broken wind explosively. That and her fork had melted in her hand and was now a puddle of bubbling metal that was slowly burning its way through the table.
Supes mate, shut it. Australis continued smoothly. Its all about location. The Tsoo are aiming for businesses fronting on the east end of the warehouse district. Five gets you ten theres something coming in that both of em want and theyre trippin over emselves to get into position.
Artifact. Bella said, her voice was pitched low and a rapidly slipping control was evident in each syllable. Something martial if the Warriors are interested in it. Excuse me, I have an appointment to meet.
Australis held his breath as Bella got up, rinsed her plates and stacked them carefully in the dishwasher, her spine ramrod stiff. She left without a single backward glance. As the sound of the base teleporter sounded, Australis let his breath out with a whoosh. That had been close. She wouldnt have killed Superball; the medical transporter would have whisked him away before she burned anything truly critical off of him; but Bellas anger tended to be explosive, which was hard on the furniture.
Hey guys. Wide Receiver turned slightly sideways as he entered the common room, the doors were overlarge but even so he had to maneuver to get his magnificent bulk through them. Whats up with Bella? She looked really angry. Okay, angrier than normal.
Australis shrugged and pointed to Superball who adopted a what me worry grin. The trio stood in silence for a moment.
Okay Wide Receiver shrugged, his shoulders shifting like boulders. So it wasnt anything I did.
Yes it was! Superball bounced to his feet and pointed an accusing finger. It was you! Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Admit your crimes and the court may choose to be lenient with you.
What? Confusion played briefly over Wides features. I didnt say anything. I didnt do anything.
Thats what they all say! Superball pressed. I know! It was Minuet! She put you up to this. Never trust a redhead. Youll both go down for this! Its the chair for you laddie-buck.
It wasnt Minuet! Wide snapped back defensively. All she said was that Morgan had said that Bella had posed for Playboy.
She did? Superball stopped in his tracks as if struck with a heavenly revelation; or a baseball bat. That I did not know.
Oh bloody hell. Australis dropped his head to the table, the corks dangling from his hat pooling around him. This could not go well. This would not go well.
Details. I need details. Superball had actually climbed up Wide Receivers jacket and was hanging from the lapels, his feet dangling in the air. Talk to me you monolithic man-mountain!
Im not saying anything else. Wides manhole cover sized hands closed over Superballs and tugged them free of his jacket. He dropped the martial artist on the floor. The big man was blushing furiously over his slip-up.
I know. I know. I dont need you! The internet is my friend. The internet! I can find it on the internet. Just like the song says. Superball pulled himself across the floor in a deranged crab-walk. He broke into song. The Internet is for porn, the internet is for porn, that Spanish chick Ill double-click for porn, porn, porn.
Come on Wide. Australis got up and adjusted his hat. Lets go keep that idiot from causing any more damage.
But hes going to be Wide blushed. On the internet.
He is mate. Repeat after me. Were going to look over his shoulder to keep that idiot from causing any more damage. Australis repeated. Thats our story and were sticking to it.
* * *
Bellas rage was a tangible thing. Fire leapt about her, leaving a long, glowing contrail in the sky. She had eschewed the monorail and was taking the long route to Steel Canyon. The weather was perfect, as it inevitably was; the sun was bright, the sky blue and the air held the slight taste of the sea. A perfect afternoon for lying on the sandy beaches of Talos, slowly smoking steaks over a razorvine fire. Bella make a growling noise in her throat and the flames surrounding her flared even brighter. The worst part of it was that she couldnt even blame Superball. He was just trying to be funny. In another situation it might have actually been funny. But it wasnt.
Spain under Franco had been a strange collusion of freedom, oppression and acceptance. The economic miracle had thrived alongside the often ruthless curtailing of groups; groups often signaled out for no other reason that the language they spoke. There had been late night arrests; imprisonment without trial, and through all of it, Franco himself. The Generalissimo. Franco the immortal. Franco the undying; and as Chevy Chase had so accurately reported. Franco the still dead. A lot had been made of the death of Franco; but not much had been said on the method of his death. All the better.
Bella still remembered the night her father had vanished. It had not been a matter of high drama, an overly emotional parting, ripped away from his family by Balaclava shrouded men in the middle of the night. He had simply left their small casa to fetch a block of ice from the grocer and had not returned. The economic miracle was such that the family somehow managed to keep going. Carmen found work in a local cantina, while her brother shifted produce at the same grocer her father had gone to visit. Esteban Santos had simply vanished. Odd as it seemed then, they knew what had happened and why it had happened. Esteban had been teaching the Catalan language, and had been highly vocal in support of its use. Having an eloquent voice speaking on behalf of the language would have been troublesome; having that voice vanish without a trace was far more practical.
The mystery of Estebans disappearance, if it ever truly was a mystery, resolved itself quietly. A copy of a death certificate had been pushed through the mail slot several months later. It listed heart failure as the cause of the death. All death could be attributed to heart failure; no matter what the cause. Bella felt a tear flash from liquid to vapor. She forced her mind back to the job at hand. She dove towards the street, pulling up at the last possible second to alight silently on the sidewalk. On the ground, the tall skyscrapers of Steel Canyon blocked out much of the sky, reducing it to thin blue strips overhead. Bella picked up her contact easily enough. Willy Starbuck. He waved to her from his seat at a street-side cafeteria.
William. Bella said in greeting, Taking the chair opposite Willy at the small table. While he did not actually appear under oily in the dictionary, Willy was comfortably wedged between weasel and womanizer. He was up to all his old tricks and had already placed the cream and sugar on Bellas side of the table.
Hey Hot-stuff. Willy got up and leaned forward and snagged a pair of nutra-sweet envelopes from the sugar tray, his eyes burying themselves as deeply into her cleavage as was possible. I got something for you.
A small item I am sure. Bella said dryly. That is what the graffiti in the Atlas Park Womans washroom had avowed, and Bella saw no need to question or confirm it.
No, its huge. Willy said, dumping the sugar into his coffee and tossing the spent packets on the ground. Youll love it.
Bella intercepted Willys attempt at the cream by pushing the bowl to his side of the table. It was a wasted effort as Willy got up and drew an envelope out of his back pocket. He unfolded it and, leaning over, placed it in front of Bella. She let it sit there unopened for several long seconds. A harried waitress passed depositing a cup of coffee in front of Bella, deftly avoiding Willys attempt at a passing pinch.
So. Watcha think? Worth something to you? Bella ignored the comment, savoring a long sip of her coffee. It must have been on the burner the better part of an hour. Hot, thick, burnt and acrid. Lovely. Bella picked up the envelope and tore it open. A small selection of photos, a few photocopied ticket stubs, and a short list of names and Social Security numbers. It was council, that much was certain. A strange look passed over Bellas features as she reached the last two photos. She looked again and then returned all the materials to the envelope.
William. I am very pleased. Bella said with a nod. Very pleased indeed.
Great hot-stuff. Willy preened. So watcha say we go somewhere private and you can show me how pleased you are?
Interesting idea. Bella watched Willys face light up. But I have a better one. I will pay for your coffee and meal, give you a kiss on the cheek, and not burn a hole through your chest.
Deal. Willie was far more subdued in his response. Every time they met he attempted to bed her; she rebuked him gently, with the threat of a horribly fiery retribution. He knew somewhere deep in his lounge-lizard soul that her threat was just as sincere as his offer.
* * *
I want to thank everyone who made this possible. Superball bawled. You love me! You really, really, love me!
Strewth Australis took off his hat and held it briefly over his heart.
I am not looking. Wide Receiver said from his position behind the monitor. Im not.
Your loss mate. Australis said.
Yes, oh and tell little Miss Minute Machiney that shes wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong. Wait. Thats one too many wrongs. Superball counted on his fingers. Shes wrong, wrong and wrong.
What? There was a dangerous catch in Wide Receivers voice.
Bella didnt pose for Playboy once. Superball said. Three times my front-four friend. Three times! Unos! Dos! Tres! Exhibit A. Bella Fuego, age 21, Miss August, measurements chest wow, waist sweet, and hips thank you kind and generous god. Likes include hot summers, hotter tangos and coffee. Dislikes are listed as Francoites, Fascists and Falsehoods. For the sake of all mankind lets all hope those are the only things starting with F she doesnt like.
Exhibit C. Visiting An Old Flame; Still burning twenty-one years later. Australis added. Bella Fuego hits 42.
Those are not 42s. Speedball pointed. I would say about 34, with a half inch extra if the room is air-conditioned.
Im still not looking! Wide Receiver announced, pulling his football helmet down so it covered his eyes completely.
And then Exhibit B. Superball said calmly.
Not looking! Wide Receiver shouted. Min would kill me. Or worse, not heal me.
Some things are worth fighting for. Superball said with the same, unnatural, uncharacteristic calm. Some things are worth killing for, and some things are worth dying for. This lends the next logical question, who do I have to fight and kill and where is it convenient for me to die?
I dont know about fight, kill and die mate. Australis said. He tilted his head to the side and re-evaluated. What was it that the fat yank sang? Two out of three aint bad.
Wide. At this point it behooves us to honour you. Superball stood up and climbed on top of his chair. Thus positioned, he draped an arm over Wide Receivers shoulders, his arm barely reaching Wides tree-trunk neck. You are a pillar of strength. Your ability to resist temptation is astounding. Your eyes, smeared with man-makeup to deflect the sun, have not strayed, but remained averted and true. We should all aspire to your courage, your conviction, your insurmountable willpower.
You dont mean that, do you Despite his suspicion, Wide Receiver felt oddly touched by the compliments.
I meant every word of it. Superball hopped down. I also know that it is the last time that I shall be able to say it to you. For I shall now read to you the description of Exhibit B:
Wide Receiver hunched his shoulders. This was it. Game time. The Coach wasnt here, but he knew the playbook by heart. It would have to be a running play. Break left, hook right, jump the stairs and straight into the teleportation portal. The ball was his. Hut, hut hut!
Fire and Ice, Bella Fuego and Jackie Frost Steam Things Up. Superball said. Hot heroines hit the shower after a hard days crime-fighting.
Interception! Sacked! Flag on the Play! The sparks from Wides cleats stopped as he struck the doorframe and staggered back. It was over. He wasnt going to win one for the Gipper this time. He looked. The blush rose and bloomed on his features and his Adams apple moved up and down with the deliberate pace of a powerlifter hoisting a four-hundred pound barbell.
They Wide managed. They really seem to be enjoying that shower.
Mate, Im enjoying that shower, an Im not even in it. Australis admitted.
We cant keep this to ourselves. Superballs fingers flashed over the keyboard. There were a number of strange beeps and pings as several more windows popped up.
www.magma.ca/~revdark/coh...e-cant.jpg
Youre not supposed to have access to that. Australis said as the blueprints to the base sprang up on the screen. Loralai is going to have your stones if she finds out and Bloody hell. Supes, what have you done?
So do you like it? Superball grinned and locked the console.
* * *
For Nebula-Elite soldier Clay Joyce, the day had started out well. He woke to the hum of computers and the quiet snores of his bunkmates. He rose, showered, marveling as he always did at his new physique. From there he went down to the Council gymnasium for a course of weights, cardio and hand to hand tactics. Breakfast was next; after a while you couldnt even taste the neuro-muscular supplements and other medications served alongside the eggs. From there a two hour lecture on history, a firearms lesson and then it was out to the streets for patrol and recruitment. It was a fine day; and for Clay, a fine life.
Just six months ago, life had not been so fine. He had lost his job, shortly thereafter his wife; and somewhere between the two, any vestige of his self-respect. His never muscular frame had been the product of a sedentary lifestyle, and his mind a dull, slow morass of repeated sit-coms and the occasional foray into game shows. The council had changed all of that. A Nebula-elite, just like he now was, had stopped him on the street. He could still remember the lenses of the mask boring into him, and finding himself in awe of the mans poised, muscular, military bearing, and cringing at the unspoken disdain seeping out.
In just seven days, we can make you a man. Had he ever been subjected to the Rocky Horror Picture Show, the line might have struck a different chord with Clay; but this was a hand reaching up to him when all others seemed poised to slap him down. He agreed. A decision that would change his life forever. Within the hour his few remaining assets had been sucked away, transferred over to the council. He was left standing naked on a platform. His only clothing, if it could be called that, was the steel ring on his right hand, which bore the emblem of the Council. The base doctor then brandished a needle that looked more suited to dosing an elephant, and commented that this was likely to hurt. A lot.
The next seven days were a strange mix of unrelenting pain and growing joy. Under the treatment of the base doctor, his bodys very structure was altered. Bones, stretched and thickened, muscles grew and his fat melted away, fuelling the changes that he was undergoing. When he rose on the seventh day, he was a new man, literally. He remembered standing next to the bed, feeling the awesome power of his muscles, the whipcrack speed of new reflexes, and the comfortable hum of a mind now conditioned to his new purpose. He also remembered taking his first step and falling flat on his face.
In the weeks that followed he never had an idle moment. Physical trainers helped him acquire command of his strange, unfamiliar body, while other instructors taught him the arts of weapons, unarmed combat and above all else, of loyalty and devotion to the Council, which gave him these gifts. He could feel his mind change as well, he learned about the honour of the Council, his duty to the Council. The Council was greater than he was, but he was an integral part of it. His strength, his loyalty, his very life were the Councils to spend, and he eagerly welcomed the opportunity. Just yesterday he had taken a man, a worthless hunk of flabby detritus, from the street, and brought him to the glory of the Council. He knew that the man saw in his eyes, what he had seen in his own recruiters eyes, so many months ago. He was strong. He was powerful. He was Council. And up to five minutes ago; that was everything that he had ever wanted to be.
It had all gone wrong so suddenly. He had been standing atop his podium, addressing passersby, when she had walked up. The woman had not been particularly tall, but she was tan, comely, and fit. Clay had ignored her gloriously. Women were weak things, unsuitable for the Council. Perhaps when the Councils plans came to fruition, such women could serve them in another, more suitable manner, but for the time being, she was to be ignored. So Clay ignored her, turning his attention elsewhere. She had shrugged and taken a few steps back, lowering her chin so she could look over the frames of the small, rectangular glasses she was wearing. Her smile was seductive, her wink, positively lascivious, and the slight cock of her hips an eloquent invitation to no holds barred mattress battle.
Still Clay remained unmoving, although he secretly admitted that things were moving. The woman seemed somewhat put out by his lack of attention. Her smile trailed out and Clay saw something else behind her eyes. She had odd eyes, Clay remembered thinking. Her irises were not blue, brown or even green, but red. Not the dull, muted red of a sunset, but a bright red that would not look out of place on a very expensive sports car. Something clicked into the forefront of his mind, a briefing about known Council enemies, and his hand moved reflexively, clicking the safety off on his weapon.
Bella Flash! The woman had shouted out, a wave of flame pouring out from her, washing over Clay and his two companions. His armour smoked and Clay could feel the heat, even through the insulation. The womans clothes vanished and Clay was stunned for a split second at the shapely expanse of caf-au-lait skin and perfectly formed limbs. By the time he had brought his weapon up, the woman was clothed in tight red shorts, a flame patterned top that displayed copious cleavage, and long, red, thigh-high boots. Her eyes were now burning pools of pure red and her skin awash in flame that swirled around her like a shield. Clay brought the barrel to bear and attempted to squeeze the trigger. It resisted all his efforts, a glance showed that the entire mechanism had been welded together by the first wash of flame.
It took a moment for Clay to un-sling his useless weapon and drop it. As fast as his reflexes were, the woman was even faster. She gestured with her hand, sending a small globe of fire into his chest. As the sphere struck his armour it exploded violently, sending him reeling backwards into the wall he was positioned in front of. His companions fared no better, caught up in the explosion, they were tossed about like dolls. The heat was a tangible thing, and Clay could feel the skin of his chest begin to burn as his armour sloughed away in molten fragments. As he reached for a grenade the woman drew back slightly, her chest pressing forward as if she were the big bad wolf, and he and his men, the three little pigs. It was not a pleasing image, especially given the nauseating, roast pork smell of his own burning flesh. The woman suddenly bent forwards, releasing a mouthful of flame that washed over all three. The pain was intense and Clay could feel himself slipping out of consciousness. He was yanked back rudely to awareness as the woman strode forward and grabbed him by the neck. He tried to defend himself, but a small, strong hand closed around his throat made an expert half twist to the right, and forced him back against the wall.
Okay asqueroso, time to talk. The woman leaned forward. Clay could feel the heat from her eyes actually burning two small holes in the skin at the bridge of his nose. He was strong, he was Council. He would not tell her anything.
You may torture me! He managed. You may kill me, but I am Council! I shall not be moved.
* * *
Bella flew away, a tight smile on her features. He had talked. They always talked. In that they were highly predictable. It didnt take much, a few whispered phrases that created a mental picture, likening the victims scrotum to a container of Jiffy-Pop popcorn, with the application of an appropriate heat source being imminent. The trick was using another language. Catalan was ideal, as it sounded much like Spanish, but was different enough that a listener, especially one in fear of his life, could not readily decipher it. Flash a little flame, repeat in English, and the bad guy would inevitably collapse like a house of cards. There was one more advantage that Bella had over most others hero interrogators. She meant it. While others might threaten violence or perhaps death, Bella backed up every threat she made. Honesty was contagious. Clay had come clean on the location of his particular Council base and had given Bella an extra little bit of information; the person in Willys picture was there. Clay had even come up with the subjects name, or at least the name he was using now. Back in Spain, Bella had known him as Julio Llamazares; and had made his unfortunate acquaintance two months after her fathers disappearance.
She had first seen him at the Cantina where she spent her evenings waiting tables. He would always take the same corner table, and sit with his back nestled into the corner so he could watch the entire room. It did not matter who was at the table when he arrived, they were quickly ushered to new seating and a bottle of red and a single glass was on Julios table before he finished settling himself. He was a known commodity, or rather , a made-himself-known commodity. He worked for one of Francos elite police squads. His presence meant that someone was being warned. Not watched. Warned. Deliberately. Carmen avoided him as much as possible. The man dealt with secrets, and her own were as likely to see her vanish like her father. She visited his table when she had to; only when she had to. She never spoke to him if it could be avoided, and when she did she kept her head down and her demeanor submissive. Her father was gone, but she still had her mother and brother to watch over; if she was noticed, her family would be noticed. It was perhaps the hardest thing she had ever had to do; just seeing him filled her with an uncontrollable, burning rage, and with the rage came the fires.
It had started with a police car. There were not many in those days, and each was precious. It had driven past Carmen two nights after her father had vanished, the red lights of its domes casting a hellish glow as it barreled down the street. Carmen had lowered her gaze, unwilling to draw attention to herself. The rage inside of her bubbled up for a moment, and she thrust it towards to car. The rear bumper flared red, the chrome vaporizing. The tires all blew simultaneously, the white-hot axels buckling as they could no longer support the weight of the car. The engine block snapped audibly. Carmen could feel the gas tank give way and tried to draw back the flame. There was an explosion, but no force or power, only a rush of heat through her as she somehow drew the energy into her body. The two members of the Guardia Civil stumbled away as the car sank into itself. Carmen had run up to them, asking if they were hurt. It wasnt concern over their well being; but a subterfuge, being obvious in order to draw attention away from herself as the cause of the incident. It worked. They had not been hurt, and although shaken, had risen to the bait admirably. One had even offered her a ride home before laughing self-consciously at the offer and pointing to the ruined vehicle.
That had been where everything had started.
* * *
I dont know what he did. LoraLai entered command after command into the keyboard and was rewarded with a great deal of nothing. No matter what she did, she could not undo the changes Superball had made. Or make any changes to the display system at all. It defied all logic. She took a slow, calming breath; there had to be an answer. Superball did not have clearance to make changes to the base; but all the changes listed his ID and clearance. How had he done it?
Can we reset the system? Eva leaned over LoraLais shoulder.
It would have to be a full system restart. LoraLai said. And I do mean everything; every computer, generator. Everything. It will take us at least 48 hours to get everything back up and running properly; computers, teleporters, the works; and thats assuming whatever he did hasnt damaged the startup sequence.
Its all working now isnt it? Eva asked.
Yes. Aside from the obvious, everything is doing exactly what it is supposed to do. LoraLai admitted.
Then we cant shut it down. Evas shoulders slumped somewhat. She considered asking Superball what he had done, but that was likely to be more problematic; besides he had vanished moments after she arrived, claiming that he was being called to assist his side-kick Reporter-girl. They only had one problem currently, why compound it. LoraLai was brilliant and would surely be able to undo whatever Superball had done. The priorities were to let LoraLai work uninterrupted, and somehow keep Bella from returning to the base. Fortunately she was on a mission, and that gave them time. Eva touched the sword at her hip; this went well beyond any reasonable definition of a prankit was Eva didnt know what it was, but she really, really didnt like it. Fortunately it was a self correcting problem. She would tell Bella, Bella would deal with Superball.
Eva sighed, and looked around the headquarters. Every decoration featuring the Vitruvian man had been altered to feature well the pose was the same. The computer monitors were all cycling a series of pictures; and the large hologram over the tactical table had a 3d extrapolation of one of the photos that slowly rotated to allow the viewer every possible angle and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Shizuru was staring at it, her features flushed.
www.magma.ca/~revdark/COH...-bella.jpg
www.magma.ca/~revdark/coh...shower.jpg
I know its embarrassing. Eva said consolingly.
Embarassing? Shizuru started, caught be surprise by Evas comment. Yes Embarrassing. Its embarrassing. Very
Well, LoraLai should have it fixed up soon. Eva said.
I know a little about the systems. Shizuru volunteered, moving over to one of the other consoles, she pulled a memory stick out of her pocket. Ill see if I can help out.
Thanks. Eva said. I have to mobilize the rest of the team. I need all the portals monitored; and the medical transporter.
Hi everyone! The teleport pad flared bright blue. There was a collected gasp that faded in relief as Minuet Mac Hine materialized. She skipped off the pad and headed for the others. Its really busy out there today. They let Frostfire out again, but a bunch of us dragged him back in. Did you know he has his own cell? It even has a revolving door. Oh and the Ghost Ship is cruising Independence Port so I was busy there and have you seen Wide?
He was here a few minutes ago. Eva said with as much calm as she could manage. I think he headed out to Talos. You should be able to catch up with him.
Okay! Thanks! Min said enthusiastically. Why are there naked pictures of Bella all over the place?
Eva paused, gathering her thoughts for an answer. There were no good answers to the question. Honest replies; but not good answers. Minuets bright red hair flashed another warning across Evas mind. Morgan. Not only would she have to deal with Bellas reaction, but her current boyfriend too. A boyfriend capable of putting his fist through a brick wall. It was too much to hope that his temper was less fiery than Bellas. No. It was too much to hope that his temper was a third as fiery as Bellas.
Superball decided to play a little joke. Eva said. Um.. Do you know where your brother is?
Hes having dinner with the Mac Hine. Minuets father was never daddy, pater or even pop. He hasnt seen this has he?
It was a day for reflection; Eva tried to keep a blush from rising on her features. It was likely that Morgan had seen everything in the pictures; he just hadnt seen it in the current context; that context being hovering over the holo-display while rubbing soapy bubbles all over a six foot blonde.
I dont think so. Eva managed; perhaps she could kill two birds with one stone. Do you think you could convince Morgan to try and keep Bella out of the base for a little while?
Um sure. Minuet agreed. What do I tell him?
You dont. Eva said. Just tell him that theyve both been working really hard and should take the rest of the evening off.
www.magma.ca/~revdark/coh-lorbase.jpg
Oh you must be kidding! The conversation was interrupted by LoraLais indignant outburst.
Youve made progress? Eva was pleased with the interruption, even if she dreaded the specter of further problems.
Ive solved the problem. LoraLai said, shutting down the console. The displays in the base remained unchanged; cycling through the various images.
Why do I sense a but coming on. Eva said.
You do. LoraLai managed a dry smile. The city should know better than to purchase software from the lowest bidder. Okay, heres where it gets complicated. The emergency systems can accept commands from any supergroup member. They also have a failsafe to act if the person does not respond in a certain amount of time after entering a command. Now for every user the system has a command delay associated with execution. It is normally five seconds. That allows you to catch your mistakes before the system applies them. You cannot reduce it to less than five seconds.
But you can increase it. Eva slumped. I think I might have an idea where you are going.
Exactly. LoraLai said. You can increase it. This still wouldnt allow you to do anything you arent allowed to do. Or thats the idea. Unfortunately there is a hole in the code; if the duration is greater than that set in the emergency systems, it uses the emergency system override; even if it isnt an emergency command. Theres the bug. Superball increased his command delay window past the emergency response automated response. That allowed the command to execute; and the display systems wont respond to any further commands until his command delay expires.
How long? Eva asked.
Eight more hours. LoraLai said. Ive fixed the hole, but until the timer runs out I cant do anything about the display system. Not without shutting everything down.
Good work. Eva managed a smile. With teamwork, hard work and a little luck they might make it through this un-singed. Now we just have to keep Bella out for eight hours.
Um... Eva. Shizuru rose from the console she was working on, tucking the memory stick into her shirt pocket. Its been a really long day for me. Do you mind if I zip home and catch some sleep?
No, go ahead. Eva said, noting Shizuru was still a little flushed. She had every reason to be embarrassed. Ill call if we need help.
Thanks. Shizuru said. Ill see you later.
* * *
Almost everyone loves the glamour of superheroes. The thought echoed through Bellas head. Yes, superheroes were glamorous; but the public never really knew about the reality of the job. The long hours; the countless injuries; the dry cleaning bills after the all too common sewer missions and the freeze dried pigeons. Most heroes didnt know about the pigeons either; but Bella had found them useful. Tabitha Fabishs shop in Talos served the mystic community with all manner of amulets, artifacts and trinkets. Bella had discovered them while poking around in the nooks and crannies of the shop when Morgan had been purchasing a new amulet. Next to the complete Crowley library and Skull of Amon had been a wicker basket that was near to overflowing with freeze-dried pigeons. While Bella had no idea what spell required them, and had never bothered to ask; they were cheap, re-useable and combined with a clamp and a spring, one of the best ways out there to defeat a simple security camera. The Council base she was about to crack open was located in an abandoned warehouse in Kings Row; the only outward sign being the very new looking camera, watching the door from a telephone pole across the street. It was childs play to fly up behind the camera, slip the clamp and bird in place, the spring causing the expired avian to bob and weave in front of the camera in best pigeon fashion. The ruse would not be good for too long, but it would certainly be good for long enough.
Whos there? Identify yourself! The heavy steel echoed as Bella rapped on it with a gloved fist. The voice from inside was muffled. Bella could picture the sentry trying to see the door through the pigeon baffled camera. She waited and rapped again. There was a shuffling noise and the small metal view-port in the door opened. Bella smiled up at the Council members blank, goggled eyes. Then the lenses cracked and the man fell away with a thump. They tended to do that when you unleashed a bolt of plasma capable of burning through a steel door and whomever was behind it. Bella reached through the cantaloupe sized hole and unlocked the door, slipping through and closing it behind her. She paused to wave at the image of the pigeon on the security monitor. The body at her feet stirred and groaned in pain. After so many years of experience Bella knew exactly how much damage the human body could endure before passing out or dying.
How many years? Bella winced. Too many. The first few had been very rough around the edges too. The word superhero had just been catching on, and Bella had adopted it early. She could still remember her first time. The statue of Franco in the square. The bronze melting under her will until Francos head was taking up the position previously occupied by his backside. Hardly the most eloquent political statement, but it had been a start. The costume had come shortly thereafter. She had deliberately made it as racy as possible, far more so than most in that day; hoping to further distance shy, demure, bashful bar-girl Carmen Santos from fiery, sensual, utterly ruthless, Bella Fuego. It had worked extremely well; sex, violence and freedom marching shoulder to shoulder. Soon her exploits were nowhere to be seen in the papers of Spain; but lauded everywhere else. Shortwave radios abounded, hoping to catch a news snippet about her on BBC or Radio Italia. A chance meeting with Diana Poulis had also opened a new avenue for Carmen, as the International Super Teams, while not currently recognized in Spain, were willing to add extra support on the side. This included the midnight evacuation of her family to Britain; and thanks to an interesting and generous offer from an American Mens magazine, the funds to establish them in comfort until they could return to Spain.
Four years after her debut, the IST transport carrying her family to safety, rose silently into the sky. Carmen carefully locked the casa and headed off to her last night of work. The moment that she walked in, everyone, Julio Lamazares included, knew something had changed. Carmens normally tightly buttoned white blouse was open nearly to her navel, displaying a scandalous amount of barely restrained cleavage, her skirt was cut high and split almost to her hip and her hair, normally bound in a tight bun at the base of her neck, cascaded down her back like an ebony waterfall. Julio had been struck dumb and offered no resistance as she tossed his table aside, sending his wine glass and bottle flying, and climbed onto his lap.
I have waited for this so long, but I was so worried about my family I could not Carmen had pressed her body against Julio, running her fingers through his thick, wavy hair. The man shifted slightly his arms going around her. He felt a small hand close around his throat and lock down with surprising strength. What did you do to my father you son of a bitch!
Julio screamed as the flame exploded out of Carmen enveloping him.
* * *
Oh please! Superball wailed, clutching at Evas ankles like they were the last two long-stemmed champagne glasses on the doomed ship Titanic. Ill do anything! Anything! Scrub floors! Wash windows! Walk dogs! Clean the little sticky bits of trolls off your sword! Read a Doctor Phil book! Anything!
Eva considered the offer as Superball groveled. It was an uncomfortable sensation; somehow it was more embarrassing to be the recipient of the groveling. That wasnt fair. She was supposed to be punishing him, not the other way around. A call to Reporter Girl had revealed that Superball had not in fact been assisting her. However, she was happy to call Superball up and tell him that his goose would not just be cooked, but agonizingly slow-roasted if he did not return to face the music. Superball had returned and in a consummate display of obsequious agility, neatly dodged LoraLai, Minuet and Morgan MacHine to land prostrate in front of Eva. It was a brilliant maneuver, as the assembled membership of the Legendary would be forced to follow Evas lead, rather than jumping atop him individually. Strangely enough Morgan had reacted to the change in decoration with a outward calm that was both reassuring and more than a little concerning. He either didnt mind, knew that Bella would be dealing with the situation, or was planning to seek redress on the party responsible at another time; in a dark ally; with no witnesses.
I am very disappointed with you. Eva tried to sound stern around her blush. How do you think Bella feels?
Firm, well muscled and delightfully warm to the touch. Jackie Frost commented. Morgan, would you concur?
Jackie. Thats not helping. Eva warned.
You forgot slick, slippery and soapy. Superball added helpfully from the floor. He ducked his head back down, cringing like a puppy. Sorry! She started it! No. Wide started it. He told me about it! Blame him! Better yet, blame her! She told him!
What? Minuet realized that Superball was pointing to her. I did no such thing. No wait I did. I overheard Morgan talking to Bella about it.
You were spying on us? Morgan turned on his sister with a disapproving scowl.
I wasnt spying on you! Minuet glared at her brother. You were the one who invited me over to your place for dinner.
Well most people knock on the door instead of teleporting right into the kitchen. Morgan countered. We never would have talked about it if we knew you were there.
Cute but dumb. Jackie gestured, enveloping Superballs lower torso in a sheet of ice. Nice try sweetie.
The manic hero had used the distraction of sibling rivalry to crawl on his belly towards the teleportation pad. He pulled frantically, trying to drag himself and the large block of ice the last few feet. He was making good progress until Morgan blurred into motion, moving to head him off.
Aiiggh! Superball pounded the floor in frustration. My dreams of stardom as an animated character are over. I always hoped I would end up as Woody Woodpecker, but youve turned me into Chilly-Willy.
It no less then you deserve. Eva said shortly. Jackie has every reason to be angry with you too.
Im not angry, but I do intend to seek satisfaction. You can give me satisfaction, cant you Superball? Jackie smile was predatory; she knelt down in front of the prostrate hero, leaning forward until his head was in danger of being enveloped in her extraordinary cleavage. She slowly traced a finger along the edge of her almost non-existent bikini top. Mmmm. Is it cold in here, or is it just me? Both. So tell me Superball. Do you bounce? Do you bounce hard? Do you bounce hard, fast, and furiously? Im looking for a strong, virile, man who isnt afraid of a long, hard, sweaty, bounce.
Superballs response was limited to a tiny, muffled, squeak. He managed to nod without face-planting into Jackies breasts.
Good. Jackie rose and started down haughtily. You can bounce down to Spankys Java Emporium every day this month and bring me an iced latte, double cream, with a shot of vanilla and some chocolate sprinkles.
Ouch. Autstralis managed to succinctly sum up the male reaction in a single word. Morgan, and Wide Receiver silently nodded their agreement while Minuet rolled her eyes.
You got off easy. Eva managed, even more embarrassed than before.
No. I was just kidding. Jackie said. Bellas going to kill him when she finds out, so Ill have to get my own latte. All kidding aside, we should just leave laughing boy here, trussed up like a turkey. You have no idea how angry shes going to be about this. We all tease her about her temper, but if she lets go, I mean really lets go, there isnt any force in the world that will keep her from tearing the heart out of this ptite conchon and roasting it in front of his face while he bleeds to death on the floor.
If we do this right Bella isnt going to find out. Eva said. I need everyone to spread out. Watch the portals. LoraLai, you take the base medical transporter. Australis Talos; Min Kings Row, Jackie Atlas, Superball, Croatoa and dont think youre getting away with this. Meredith and Marianne have Steel and Skyway. Wide Reciever has Brickston, Shizuru is in Founders, Yukiyo is on duty in IP, and Ive got Peregrine. If any of you see Bella on her way, you contact the base immediately.
What about me. Morgan asked.
Free safety. Eva explained. When you get the call you go through to the appropriate portal and head Bella off.
Head her off? Morgan cocked an eyebrow.
Allow me to explain. Jackie leaned over and whispered something into Morgans ear. She followed it up with several other somethings. Morgan flushed a bright red, a few stray drops of sweat appearing on his brow.
Got it. Morgan managed. Thats not how they did it in the old westerns.
You all know what to do. Task Force Firestopper is a go. Eva managed. Her predecessor had not warned her that there would be days like this. Zombies she could handle. Ghosts, no problem. Giant squids attacking shipping, a walk in the park. Perhaps there was a tried and true strategy for keeping a heroine with an explosive temper from blowing up a teammate who had posted naked pictures of her all over the super base. Perhaps there was, but she didnt know it. No one had bothered to tell her. The best she could manage was making it up as she went along. What Eva did know was that everyone had worked really, really hard to build up the base to its current state, and she didnt want Bella to burn it all down. Not that shed blame her if she did. If they got through this with the base burnt around them, but Superball still alive, it would be a victory.
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* * *
Archon Cartney was not a happy man. This was unfortunate, as he had every reason to be. His years with the Council had been very good to him. He was a physical specimen without equal, approaching the very apex of the perfect human fighting machine. His muscles strong, his reflexes lightening fast, his mind honed as sharp as a razors edge. His loyalty was unshakeable. While the lesser recruits were regularly dosed with hypno-supplements, subliminal instructions and psychotropic drugs; the Archons were above all that. They didnt just serve the Council, they were the Council. The acme of the leadership. They commanded life and death, not only for their men, but for all the citizens of Paragon; who existed only because the Council allowed them to.
He should have been happy; but he wasnt. To start with, The Maestro had sent a new Archon to Kings Row; and Cartney was supposed to help him establish himself in the city. He had been told, that the man in question was a veteran of the Councils early days, and was to be treated with the deference due his experience. In other words, Archon Llassa was in charge. Or more bluntly, bend over Cartney, youre being corn-cobbed. It got worse from there; Archon Llassa was a true Nospheratu; a recipient of the latest parasite treatment. Stronger, faster, tougher and more resilient than anything human; and gifted with the psychic powers to cloud minds, sap the will and even drain the life-force from men. He also looked like a slightly older Antonio Banderas and his chiseled, Castilian features drew women to him in droves.
The second reason not to be happy was that his base was under attack; serious attack. This wasnt the loud but ineffective local police or the even louder, if still largely ineffective Longbow patrols. Someone, or something, was moving through his operation like a tsunami. The main console was lit up with alerts. A station would report a sighting, there would be the hiss of static, followed by the sounds of explosions, gunfire, roaring flames, the screams of men, some more static, and then the little light denoting the station would change to red, indicating that all Council soldiers in the area had been rendered non-operational.
Your men are inadequate. Archon Llassa said with a haughty disdain. Archon Cartney gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to backhand the superior Archons pointed teeth out of his mouth. He turned his attentions back to the main console. He considered for a moment and then dropped the security doors. It would keep re-enforcements from entering the main command center, but twelve inches of hardened steel should keep any attacker out. There was another way out too, but Archon Cartney had not briefed his superior on it yet.
Why do you not go to join the fight? Archon Llassa regarded the blast doors. It looked like he was about to speak again, but his jaw twitched. A small portion of the northern blast door had started to glow red. In a moment it went from red, to yellow and then incandescent white. Archon Cartney dove for cover as the metal exploded outwards, sending white-hot gouts of flame throughout the control center. The third reason not to be happy walked through the hole, the dripping rivulets of molten steel sublimating as they struck her fiery aura.
Archon Llassa, Bella Fuego. Bella Fuego, Archon Llassa. Cartney made the introductions. The Archons own thoughts were manifest. They were about to get corn-cobbed.
We know each other. Archon Llassa hissed, his teeth elongating. Carmen Santos. You are looking well.
Julio. Bellas costume was smudged by smoke and bore several small tears from where bullets and night-wolf claws had made it past her flaming aura. I never thought you would dare show your face again.
I have a new face. Julio said tightly. You cost me everything. I was to rule Spain after Franco, but when I fell he relented to that weakling Juan Carlos.
Generalissimo Franco never abdicated. Bella laughed, her hands on her hips. The laughter cut off abruptly. Of course. No one told you; not that you had ears to hear at the time. Or eyes to see.
Archon Cartney watched as the pair sized each other up. It was about to get very, very, messy. He had a duty to support his brother Archon; to stand by his side in the heat of battle. To triumph over those who dared to mock the Council. Which was all great on paper, he told himself as he kicked open the escape chute and dived into it, closing and securing the opening behind him. The Council had to be warned of this latest development; reinforcements would need to be summoned, and he would not be able to do that while recovering from third degree burns in the Zig infirmary.
I can see you have found allies that are worthy of you. Bella observed dryly. We have unfinished business between us Julio.
Yes. We do. Archon Llassa held up a hand. The skin stretched and tore as it elongated into a savage claw. You took my eyes. My ears. My tongue and my destiny. I shall return the favor. You should have killed me caida.
I wanted to. Bella admitted. But vendetta must be exact. You only carried out the order you were given; I broke the Generalissimos sword; but killed the hand that wielded it.
With an inhuman scream of rage, Archon Llassa charged.
* * *
Medical transport beacon! LoraLai announced, her eyes flashing across the monitor. Bellas beacon is in the red. Shes in Kings Row! Morgan. Morgan?
LoraLai glanced at the empty seat beside her. She could hear the teleportation portal cycle; presumably Morgan was already through and on his way. Bellas medical beacon remained lit, but had not been activated. Was it being blocked? LoraLai tried to override, but the system wouldnt respond. Bella had to be deliberately blocking the signal. That didnt make sense either; she was in mortal danger, her vital signs growing weaker by the second. She had to get out.
All units, return to base. LoraLai keyed the communicator. Gathering reinforcements seemed to be a prudent idea.
* * *
Bella let Julio drop to the floor, ignoring the sickly smell of burnt flesh. She had taken both of his eyes and his manhood before he had finished his story. There were no surprises. Esteban Santos had been taken; imprisoned; and allowed to starve to death. Bella glanced down at the ruin of a man at her feet. He was still alive, drawing shallow breaths through a seared throat. He would live or he would die; he would not raise a hand against her family again; of that she was certain. He had also furnished, unasked, a very interesting piece of information; a route into the Generalissimos heavily guarded palace; a route, if he was to be believed, known only to Julio and Franco.
The rest had been almost anti-climatic. When the Generalissimo had returned to his chambers he was met by a raven haired beauty who explained that his normal companion was in the shower but would be joining them forthwith. By the time the aforementioned companion emerged from the shower all that remained of the Generalissimo were a few scraps of ash, splintered, heat-warped bone, and small puddles of gold that had once been the buttons on his uniform.
The Generalissimo had not put up any fight. He was Spanish and understood vendetta all too well. He had refused to abdicate his position, and had stood unmoving as Bella turned him into a flaming pyre. Perhaps he had not believed her capable of it. What an odd thing to remember now. Bella could taste the blood in her mouth. Whatever Julio was he wasnt human anymore, and his powers were monstrous. He had all but ignored her flames, driving into her with long claws, his assault unrelenting. She could feel him pressing at her mind with every blow; it took all her concentration to keep him out; leaving her vulnerable to his physical assault. She spat up another mouthful of blood. It was getting dark, and very cold.
* * *
Archon Cartney dropped into the alley behind his base, landing silently. He had made it out; now all that remained was to turn this series of very unfortunate events to his advantage. He would summon re-enforcements; if Archon Llassa survived, he would be mollified by the concern. If Archon Llassa was slain, well then it was the Spanish Archons changes to procedure that allowed the raid to take place; it wasnt like the record of his changes would survive. A tight smile creased Archon Cartneys features, even if Llassa survived, he might be in a weakened state and succumb to his injuries. Such things happened.
Hold it! Archon Cartney rolled his eyes. This was the last thing he needed. A hero. Some insignificant cape was going to try and stop him. Okay, on second glance he was a big cape, large muscles, and an ensemble of dark green leather and buckles. Perhaps green was the new black in the hero world. Either way he was in the way and would be swiftly dealt with. The cape dropped into a fighting stance, looking remarkably calm and relaxed. Archon Cartney opened the fight with a hard, straight punch to the capes jaw. The heros head shifted slightly, the punch sliding off to the side harmlessly. He took a half step in and delivered a perfectly timed head-but to the Archons face.
A fourth reason to be unhappy. The thought whizzed past Cartneys consciousness as his nose broke with a snap, spreading a blinding pain through his whole head. Contrary to popular fiction it was nigh impossible to strike the nose with sufficient force to send bone fragments shooting into the brain; what wasnt fiction was that the blow was insanely painful, causing the body to experience momentary shock, the eyes to water and the brain to take a few seconds out of its busy day to properly assess the damage. A few seconds are an eternity in a fistfight; especially against a highly-trained, aggressive opponent. Reasons to be unhappy five through nine checked in immediately. Broken ribs on the right side and a knee that would need significant reconstruction on the left. Ten through thirteen followed, encompassing a shattered collarbone, dislocated left elbow, mild concussion and spitting a dentists office worth of forcefully extracted teeth onto the dirty pavement. Finally a reprieve. The cape coiled up like a spring and delivered a spectacular roundhouse that lifted the reeling Archon off his feet and slammed him into the brick wall of the alley with enough force to leave a crater. Cartney savored the one happy moment in his recent experience; blissful, pain-free unconsciousness. He slumped to the ground in a sprawl.
Morgan shook the blood from his hands with a swift, practiced moment. The skin of his knuckles, abraded from the repeated, forceful, contact with the Archons body armour, closed over as if the wounds had never existed. Bella was in trouble, somewhere in the warehouse. He had to find her. As Morgan took a step forward the whole roof of the warehouse exploded violently upwards, a billowing cloud of flame reaching towards the sky. As quickly as the flame erupted, it receded, as if drawn back down to its source. All that remained was a few stray wisps of smoke in the air and a few flame scarred shingles raining down. Morgan leapt upwards. The hole in the roof was likely to be the easiest entrance to the base; and he could be fairly certain that Bella was inside.
* * *
Shes back on her feet. LoraLai announced as the status monitor on the medical transport beacon shifted colours from red to a bright green. Shes going to be Thats not possible. The monitor flashed another alert as the biometric monitoring patterns spiked to levels well beyond the systems capacity to measure them. The readout froze, clearly the product of another lowest bid contract. LoraLai turned back to Eva.
This is either very good, or very bad. Eva noted.
Take notes little piggie. Jackie poked Superball in the ribs, relief colouring her voice. This is just a warm up. You get to be the main event.
* * *
Victory. Julio Llamazares, now Archon Lhassa, raised his battered foe with one arm. The caida was still trying to fight, but there was nothing left. The few meager flames she was producing were being thrown wide. Missing him entirely to splash against the consoles of the command center. A strident alarm began ringing, but he ignored it. Revenge was about to be served.
Now it ends. Lhassa drew Bella against his chest and leaned down, his long canine teeth brushing her throat. Goodbye Carmen Santos.
Julio Carmen managed from between clenched teeth. The last burst of defiance was delightful, and Archon Llassa forced his thoughts against hers, eager to taste her despair. He reeled back almost dropping his victim. His thoughts burned; her mind held no despair, only a burning rage; the intensity of it terrifying.
It is nothing. Llassa managed, regaining his composure. He yanked back hard on Bellas hair, drawing her throat taught as he prepared to rip it out. The alarm in the background rose to a violent crescendo. Then the world exploded. The reactor. The base drew its power from a micro fusion reactor; but there was no way it could explode. There were multiple fail-safes. A column of flame roared through the command center; Llassa threw up his arms in a feeble attempt at protecting himself. There was no pain. The flames ignored him; spending their intensity on
Vete al infierno! Bella roared as the flames smashed into her; soaking into her skin leaving it untouched; the terrible claw wounds healing instantly; her faltering aura rekindling and blazing forth with white hot intensity. Archon Llassa hissed and released his grip on her, his hands burnt down to the bones. The flames in the command center were gone. All of. them. That was impossible. The reactor contained the power of a small atomic bomb. There was no way a mere human could hold such power.
Mierda. Llassa swallowed hard. She had no intention of holding such power; not when there was a convenient target directly in front of her.
* * *
The paramedics said hed live. Morgan said as Bella walked away from the warehouse; he slowed his pace slightly, so his longer strides did not outdistance her. Who was he?
An old enemy. Bella said. One I had not seen in more than twenty years.
You might have to wait another twenty for him to show up again. Morgan winced slightly; suddenly aware that she had known this foe longer than he had been alive.
Perhaps. I do not think he will cross me again. Bella said. I have spared his life twice now; there will be no third time.
Okay. Morgan considered the statement; either she didnt expect him to cross her again, or the third time she wouldnt be as forgiving. Time to change the subject. You were lucky the reactor blew when it did.
There was no luck involved Morgan. Bella chuckled. I visited the power station and disabled all the safety interlocks prior to confronting Archon Llassa. The only things keeping the reactor in check were those few devices in the main control room.
So if things went badly you were prepared. Morgan nodded.
You must always be prepared; you know that. You are prepared now, arent you? Or must we find an apothecary? Bella smiled, her tongue appearing to touch the corner of her lips. Morgan swallowed hard. A costume as tight as Bellas hid nothing. He knew the signs; and it was time to strike while the iron was hot. They were nearly at the teleportation portal.
Why dont we take the monorail back to my place. You can grab a shower, Ill make dinner and Morgan let the offer trail off. Bella was eyeing him from face to lower than his belt. Dinner would have to wait.
* * *
Should we really be watching this? Min asked. On the small monitor screen Morgan had blurred, dashing around Bella and sweeping her up in a passionate embrace, leaning down to kiss her. The teleportation portal flashed several times as the rest of the Task Force Firestopper reappeared, and gathered around to watch.
No. Relief was manifest on Evas features. It looked like Morgan had the situation in hand. Well in hand. Eva felt a blush rising. On the screen Morgan had drawn back slightly, raising one hand and tenderly running it Along Bellas cheek. She turned slightly into the caress, kissing the hand. We can all relax now.
Min let out a gasp that turned into a giggle as Bella blurred into motion, leaping onto Morgan, her legs wrapping around his waist as she slammed her body against his with staggering force. Too much force, as Morgans tottered backwards, trying to regain his balance against the remorseless, demanding, Spanish onslaught. For a moment it looked like he would succeed, but his feet went out from under him and he fell backwards into the blue circle of the teleportation portal, Bella still pressed to his body.
Were dead. In the moment of panic and horror no one really knew who made the statement, only that the portal had flashed blue, dumping a prostate Morgan onto the floor, with Bella straddling him dominantly. She glanced up at the assembled crowd, a single black eyebrow rising in an unspoken question. She got to her feet and surveyed the base, her eyes resting briefly on each of the displays before moving on. Then she focused her attention of the members of the Legendary; staring at each of them in turn, her expression unreadable.
Who is responsible for this? Bella said calmly.
Jaccuse. Jackie pointed a finger at Superball, who as desperately trying to fade into the back of the crowd. There was a shift as everyone abandoned the space around him.
Explain. Bella let the single word hang in the air. Eva was about to protest, but Bella cut her off with an abrupt gesture.
I cant. Superball managed. I found out about your Playboy shoots and looked them up.
And placed them on display where everyone could see. Bella nodded. Next time ask me first; I have the originals, not these poorly scanned copies.
What? Superball goggled as Jackie burst into laughter. Butbut She said youd kill me! Orribly. With a capital O.
And you believed me. That was your first mistake, Im a very talented liar. Jackie managed, trying to catch her breath. Tear out your heart and burn it in front of you while you bleed to death? My petite chou-chou, you should have seen your face. Oh and since you are still alive I expect my lattes starting tomorrow.
What? Wait a second. Eva said gesturing. You dont mind this this
Dear. Bella smiled. I would not have posed for these pictures if I did not want them to be seen. Perhaps the venue for display is not entirely appropriate; but it is certainly nothing that I am embarrassed about. I was quite happy with the way all three shoots turned out; when you are of an age I can introduce you to the photographer, should you be interested.
No! No thank you. Eva was blushing red. So youre not angry?
A little. Bella admitted with a positively wicked smile. But I prefer to channel that anger into more productive activities. Morgan; I believe you mentioned something about a shower?
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