Adventures of Superguy

August 14, 2010 - Las Vegas, NV

Former Yarrow Residence

00:27:28

The last of the flames engulfing the home of Harriet Yarrow were snuffed out as a whirlwind surrounding the homestead sucked the last of the oxygen and flames into the sky, dispersing harmlessly. Smoke hung heavily in the air as wary neighbors watched the smoldering calamity that had disturbed their rest, while police officers threw up barricades and caution tape. The local fire department were standing around with a mixture of boredom and frustration at being shown up. Kid Quick ceased her perambulations around the ruin, fading back into view, now in costume.

Robin had also found time to change into costume, and was explaining the situation with a practiced ease to the local constabulary. Superboy was already in costume, to a certain definition; the Jacket had been left behind and he was still wearing the Superwoman T-shirt from the Hall of Justice gift shop, but only he knew how ‘out of uniform’ he was.

After all that fussing over the uniforms in DC, now I’m worried about uniforms and protocol…

It still astounded him how much deference police and first responders gave to teenagers in costume, but it was working in their favor. He was stepping lightly across the rubble of Yarrow’s home, broken and scorched timbers and glass in an untidy pile, studded with the remains of a life. A shattered picture frame, a smashed dresser, the cooked remains of the television. He sorted through the rubble, lifting the heaviest bits of rubble while the fire marshal yelled instructions.

There was little hope of rescue; Yarrow’s home was reduced to a burned crater in the shape of its basement foundation, and what parts of the house that hadn’t been distributed liberally about the neighborhood was now a blackened pile that he nevertheless, dutifully searched through.

It was dirty work, and it came to a sudden end when he lifted another ashen beam and saw a pale arm with a familiar wristwatch poking out of the rubble. A quick shout brought the EMTs and firefighters over, but he had seen at a glance that it was hopeless. 

Infrared showed the corpse was the same temperature of the cooling pile of rubble around it. 

After a few minutes of sadly pointless effort, the EMTs called it and the body bag and gurney were brought over. Superboy stood back, watching the events with a strange detachment while covered in soot.

Not the first body I’ve seen wheeled out. Never in condition like that, though. Funny, I used to be so squeamish as a kid. I couldn’t look at the doctors when they drew blood for tests. Now it all seems… so familiar.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. One last glance at the corpse was taken up by the hair on the back of the head, something he could see in perfect clarity thanks to his super vision. Superboy paused, something nagging at him, as the corpse was zipped up into the black bodybag and the EMTs carefully picked their way with it down the pile of rubble. He heard a shout and looked up to see Robin waving him over, past the police picket, and headed over to her.

“Locals will handle the body from here. I just needled the sergeant over there to let me take a look at the crime scene. You alright?” Robin informed him as she lifted the tape for him to cross under, then ducked under it herself to begin her investigations. But she faced him directly across it as she asked.

“I’m fine.” He shrugged, then idly rubbed at the bandages beneath his shirt. “Not the first body I’ve seen carried off.

“Okay, if you’re sure. Sometimes the little things get to you at scenes like this.” She said sympathetically, and went to start picking clues from the destruction.

“Talked to Aqualass and Alpha Squad; Polk’s in the wind.” Kid Quick reported as she sashayed up to him, pausing to watch the Girl Wonder work with him. “They broke into his apartment in Metropolis; empty. Packed a bag and left his dinner sitting on the counter. He bought a plane ticket to Utah, right around the time we talked to Yarrow.”

Superboy was silent as he watched Robin work, mulling over something. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. Kid looked back and forth at him and the Girl Wonder, head bobbing quizzically. 

“Something bugging you?” She asked.

“Yeah…” He drawled. “Did Polk have hair implants?”

********

August 14, 2010 - St. George, UT

Green Elite Flight School

03:27:28 

The cosmos painted a beatific tableau across the sky, a million billion stars lighting up the desert night and provided the only illumination to the darkened former airport. It was little more than a vast expanse of cracked concrete, hardy desert scrub and grass poking out through the broken surface. On one end, a former terminal and control tower sat in desiccated decay, and on the other was the sole hangar, its massive doors hanging open and half the window panels smashed. The whole property gave an overwhelming sense of abandonment, a thing utterly forgotten and uncared for.

Which made the shiny new business jet sitting on the suspiciously well maintained tarmac stand out even more. 

The six members of the team stood in a line and shared a knowing look as they saw the jet.

Superboy: Called it. 

Kid Quick: The bad guys leaving fake clues to lead us into a trap doesn’t qualify as ‘calling it’. They always do that! Now, if you could predict what form the actual trap would take, I’d take that bet.

Superboy considered for a moment, knuckling his chin as he did so and idly patting his damp shirt, the water soaking it invisible in the low light. He recalled the skills and specialties of the schemers involved, and discarded a few possibilities as being too direct and not screaming ‘trap’ enough. Superboy was forced to dig deep and consider every cliched comic book plot, and the thought made him a little giddy. He snapped his fingers and smiled when he reached his conclusion.

Superboy: A bomb!

Kid and Robin shared a look, and the Girl Wonder shook her head which made Kid scoff.

Robin: No bet.

Kid Quick: Fine, you’re on!

Superboy and Kid shook on it, as Apollo rolled his eyes and nocked an arrow.

Apollo: Can we please get on with it?

Aqualass: Indeed. Let’s move. Stick to the plan. 

The team continued their advance in a line, with Ms. Martian levitating herself into the air to fly overwatch as they boldly strode into the shadowed and cavernous hangar. Superboy looked around, spotting two heat signatures he’d expected and not the third he was looking for. Instead he focused on his super hearing, letting himself be immersed in the echoing vastness of the hangar and listening for the tell tale sounds of a human being who didn’t show up on infrared. 

He smiled when he heard the calm and controlled breathing, and considered as he followed his team within the hangar.

Impressive; the armor blocks infrared AND the sound of his heartbeat. But he can’t mask the sound of his breathing. Seems like an oversight I won’t be sharing.

As the team advanced halfway into the hangar and still hadn’t sprung the trap, Superboy called out, his voice echoing off corrugated steel walls.

“Can we just get this over with?” He asked loudly, and he smiled wider when the two he had already spotted stepped out from what they thought were concealing shadows. On a catwalk along the back wall of the hangar emerged a familiar figure in a garish Hawaiian shirt, a pistol held loosely in her right hand. From the shadows on the team’s left emerged a much greyer woman than the group photo had depicted; a curly haired, iron grey individual in khakis, a silk sport coat and shiny penny loafers, her hands in her pockets as she watched them with dead eyes, a slight smirk on her face.

The third announced himself only by turning on the wicked sword in his hand, the same blue glow illuminating him and casting the shadows back as it began its deadly hum. Rako grinned cruelly as his gaze locked on to Superboy, who scowled back at him.

“We can indeed.” Yarrow answered as she leaned on the railing of the walkway, looking down on them all.

“Henrietta Yarrow. The big boss herself.” Kid spat at the arms trafficker, who only sneered contemptuously.

“Rako.” Ms. Martian said, getting a nod from the eager samurai. “General Trang's protege, all grown up to become her murderer.”

“Which means you must be the CIA spook, Anita Rois.” Apollo continued, speaking to the woman in the sport coat, whose false smile melted away like ice cubes in the desert heat.

“Anita Rois is dead.” She said with certainty.

“So you’re her ghost. Whatever.” Apollo snapped back.

“You all don’t seem surprised.” Yarrow replied. “DId you also guess you were walking into a trap?” She asked with a superior smile.

“We did, actually.” Kid bantered. “NOt much of one, though… since we outnumber you six to three.” 

If Yarrow was shaken by that boast, she didn’t show it.

“After forty years in the arms game, kid, let me offer you a little tip. Quality trumps quantity… unless you’re talking about explosives.” She boasted, and Rois drew her hands from her pockets, revealing a detonator clutched in her right hand, where a gaudy pinky ring glinted. “My friend is holding a dead woman’s switch. If anything makes her unhappy, or causes her to let go, this whole place goes boom.”

Superboy’s head whipped to Kid, showing off all his pearly whites in triumph.

Kid Quick: Ugh, fine, you win!

Yarrow didn’t seem to notice the exchange, pointing at Superboy as she reiterated the threat.

“You keep that in mind, son. I see that ‘S’. I can guess what it means.” She warned. “But your little pals aren’t invulnerable, even if you are-”

“Him!? Invulnerable!?” Rako interjected. “My sword proved otherwise!” 

Superboy’s brow furrowed as he stared down the cocky samurai, and he took a single step towards him. Rako responded by bringing up his glowing blade, eagerly anticipating the challenge.

“Proved nothing, Rako. Your word was forged by our stolen government X-Ionizer.” Yarrow replied, waving her gun for emphasis and clearly annoyed by her underling’s prideful boasting. “Your sword could cut the real Superwoman.”

Aqualass: Now. Remember, like water…

“Why don’t we put that sword and your mouth to the test, Rako?” Superboy challenged, walking confidently toward the sneering samurai, much to the consternation of Yarrow and Rois. The latter clutched the detonator tighter, watching the unfolding events keenly but silently. Yarrow, however, was not so controlled.

“Goddamnit, boy, get back in line! You’re supposed to be a goddess-damned professional!” She shouted at her arrogant minion. Rako hesitated, and Superboy saw he would need a little bit of a push.

“What’s wrong, Rako? Still having to listen to evil boss mommy after all these years? You want a rematch, I’ll give you one. You surprised me with your little pig sticker back in Maryland, but I’m wise to you now. You wanna go again, I’ll take that toy away from you and stick it up your ass sideways!” He shouted and added a literal chest beating for emphasis, which made him bite his tongue to hide the resulting wince.

Apollo:Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?

Superboy: He’s a brainwashed child soldier turned grown up assassin, subtle isn’t gonna cut it.

Rako growled deep in his throat and Superboy heard his teeth grind against each other as the samurai took a ready stance, awaiting Superboy’s leisurely approach. For his part, Superboy had to control his breathing as he approached that deadly humming blade. He had already tasted its bleeding edge tech once, he wasn’t eager for a repeat. 

Thankfully, this time he had brought backup.

He suddenly lunged toward Rako and threw his arms out wide, not bothering to defend himself as Rako brought his X-Ionizer blade up high and executed a perfect kesa-giri to open Superboy up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Superboy just ducked his head and closed his eyes as the blade came down and trusted in the plan.

The high tech katana came down on his shoulder… and stopped, to Rako’s shock and dismay. It’s invisibly vibrating edge impacted against the wet shirt and didn’t cut a thread of it as the water soaking it instantly drew itself to the point of contact and vibrated in sympathy with the X-Ionizer sword. The weapon began shaking violently in Rako’s hands as he struggled to control it, and it bucked like a malfunctioning chainsaw. 

Superboy grinned as the plan came together and went for the takedown as his now dry shirt expelled the water to wrap itself around the X-Ionizer blade. That water now began to glow with a countering cerulean blue and Aqualass raised her hands, her total focus now on her hydrokinesis so she might keep the deadly blade from harming her teammate. Superboy crashed into Rako’s legs and hooked his arms behind the samurai’s knees. Then he hurled Rako onto his back, the sword clattering away and making an awful din as it and the watery scabbard it was in vibrated wildly

“Goddess damnit! Rois, blow this popsicle stand!” Yarrow shouted as she brought up her pistol and started to retreat down the catwalk. But her minion was having troubles of her own; her arm was shaking as she held onto the detonator, using her other hand to grasp at it as she huffed and puffed.

“I’m trying!” She shouted, her off hand trying to lever her thumb off the trigger to no avail. “Something is holding my thumb down!”

Ms. Martian floated in the air, her eyes glowing green, and she smiled at Rois struggles. Apollo didn’t bother with any grandstanding as he drew and fired his nocked arrow at Rois’ hand. The bulbous trick arrow burst into a ruddy splash of goop that encapsulated the detonator, and spread up her arm like a grotesque claymation in fast forward. In an instant, the detonator and Rois’ arm were covered in a thick, goopy cast that immobilized both.

“No!” Rois shouted, quickly answered by a shouted “Yes!” from Kid Quick as she barreled into the explosive spook, knocking her sprawling.

“Wait…” Yarrow said as she watched her minions get dismantled, then looked around warily, gun up. “Where’s the damned Girl Wonder!?”

Echoing laughter boomed through the hangar as Robin swooped down on her grapnel line and delivered a swinging dropkick into Yarrow that sent her sprawling down the catwalk. She kept hold of her gun, though, displaying the value of her years of soldiering. Robin gathered her cape around her and charged, but Yarrow displayed a shocking spryness for her age and rolled back up to her feet and took a kneeling shooting stance. 

The gun barked twice, and with a shout Robin’s charge halted as she fell forward into a tumble. Superboy followed the action with a terrible focus as he saw her fall, fear turning his guts to ice, and once again everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. 

Robin was trying to roll off the catwalk to get out of the line of fire, while Yarrow unerringly tracked her, the pistol coming onto target with an awful swiftness. Superboy’s vision telescoped to the gun in her hand, seeing the micro tremors as Yarrow’s finger began to pull the trigger.

NO!

His mental defiance of the terrible future was his last conscious thought as he was suddenly moving and leaping at full speed while the world around him continued moving as if underwater. He saw the blossoms of fire erupt from the barrel of the gun and he could see the three copper jacketed slugs move with ponderous speed toward Robin’s prone form. They flew with aching slowness but the distance was not that great, and each was on target.

Superboy ran forward and leaped, hanging in air for what felt like an eternity as he watched the bullets plow their way through the air towards Robin. His fear screamed at him as he arced through the air; now the bullets were halfway to Robin. Then three quarters of the way; she was just beginning to react, turning onto her side and starting to draw her cape around her protectively. It would never happen in time to matter… but then his boots hit the catwalk and he threw himself in the path of Yarrow’s gunfire.

Whatever made the world go so slowly was fading, and he lost sight of the bullets as he planted himself in front of Robin. He barely felt the impacts as the heavy slugs hit him; one bounced off his shoulder and shattered another window, another pancaked against him, and the last deflected down to the rusting metal catwalk. But as the last round deflected, it skipped and bounced right back at the one who had fired it.

Superboy saw the little blossom of red on Yarrow’s ugly Hawaiian shirt as the ricocheting bullet was returned to sender with tragic results. The impact was right over her heart, and she only gave a little gasp before she slumped to her knees, the gun clattering over the side, and her hands clutched uselessly at her chest as the blood soaked the front of her shirt. Superboy stared incredulously at his chest and then at Yarrow, who looked at him with disbelieving eyes as she slumped forward.

Superboy: I didn’t mean to…

Wherever that thought was going was irrelevant, as Ms. Martian flew to the dying Yarrow’s side, laying hands upon her temples while her eyes flashed a bright green.

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