When In Doubt, Blow Something Up
On the path to end a terrible evil, Negasonic Teenage Warhead and Angel Dust encounter powerful foes.
Author's note: This story takes place a short time after the story Strangest of Heroes, which in turn follows Best of Frenemies.]
"Tell me something," said Ellie. "Why are we in a strip club?"
"I like strip clubs," said Christina.
"Oh," said Ellie. "Does that mean you're into girls?"
"You can like strip clubs without being into girls."
Ellie thought about it. "Not really," she said.
"This is where I saw Deadpool's girlfriend that time. Pretty piece, that one."
A waitress in all-reveal underwear delivered their drinks. Large doses of whiskey. Christina downed hers in a gulp.
"You haven't asked me if I was under-age for this place," said Ellie.
"Why would I do that?"
"Well, you know ... because I am."
"Huh. Well, fuck that. You fit right in."
Not sure if that's good or bad, thought Ellie. She said, "Still don't know why we're here."
"You said you wanted to locate the source of the control collars. There's someone working here who might know. He'll be in soon. You gonna drink that?"
"Eventually."
Christina picked up Ellie's drink and downed it. "Too late."
"Why are you helping me do this?" said Ellie. "Are you seeking some sort of redemption?"
"Redemption? For what?"
"For doing all that stuff in the Factory."
"I don't need redemption. Everyone who went through there would have died otherwise. Including me. That was the deal."
"But they didn't volunteer thinking they would end up as slaves."
"Isn't that better than being dead?"
Ellie considered it. She didn't have an answer. She wondered what the Professor would say.
For a moment, the thudding music stopped.
"Shift change," said Christina. "And our cue. Let's go."
She led Ellie across the club to the glass booth where the DJ was. The door was locked, until Christina opened it. They went in.
The DJ turned to them. "Angel Dust!" he said. "Haven't seen you since ... that thing. Destroyed much lately?"
"Not enough."
Ellie was staring at the guy. "Fuck, you are ... really old. Really, really old. I didn't think people could be as old as you and not be incredibly dead. You could be my grandfather's grandfather. If I had a grandfather. But at least it explains why the music here is such crap."
The DJ turned the music in the booth down to a low murmur, although it continued to pound away in the club. He studied Ellie. "Young whippersnapper," he said.
"Yeah yeah, I'll stay off your lawn."
"Well, this banter is fun but we need some information," said Christina. She explained to the DJ what they wanted.
"You don't want to know about that place," said the DJ. "You really don't. People who go there don't come back. Including some who went there on the same mission you're talking about."
"All the more reason," said Ellie.
"The word around is that the Warlord is trying to take over that end of the business," said the DJ.
"Not really a surprise," said Christina. She picked up a pen that was lying on the console. "Now, you can tell my friend what she wants to know or I can insert this where the sun doesn't shine. You know that I can do that. Damn, you know that I'd like to do it."
The DJ smiled again but this time it was rather forced. Then he gave Ellie the location she wanted.
"That wasn't so hard, was it," said Christina. She put the pen into the DJ's breast pocket. "There, nice and inserted," she said, giving it a little pat.
The two of them left the club, Christina swiping another whiskey from a table on the way.
"You like the booze," said Ellie, as they were standing outside.
"Yeah, since it helped to bring me to my current sorry situation you'd think I would have learned. But learning things is not what I do. This is where we part company, Ellie. You've got the address, although why you want to do it I don't understand. I plan to keep looking for my brother, see if there's a way to bring him back. I've got things to say to him."
Ellie nodded. "Good luck with that."
"You too."
Ellie turned and walked away. Christina watched her go. Then she looked at the club. I wonder ... she thought.
She went back inside.
Part II
Ellie was standing on the edge of the roof. This was the warehouse where, according to the DJ, the control collars were made. New Age Control Systems.
She looked out over the night-lit city. Her long coat moved behind her in the wind.
Goddamn, I'm in a superhero pose, she thought suddenly. Like Batman. Damn damn damn. Quickly, she changed position.
She checked around. There was a skylight, and she peeped through it. Yeah, this was the place alright: a long table with four people working on the collars. A production line. There was a series of computers, and cabinets for documents. The operation was being overseen by a middle-aged blond woman in a lab coat.
So this is where purgatory was manufactured.
Ellie considered. She realised that she did not know what she should do. Should she call the X-Men? The police? Was what was going on here actually a crime?
She knew that she needed to see more, to understand how extensive this facility was. She saw a small maintenance hatch nearby, leading to a metal gangway inside.
She took off her coat. She had taken the precaution of putting her blast-proof X-Man outfit on – no sense in burning another set of clothes, if the need arose. She opened the hatch and wriggled through, easing herself into the building and onto the gangway. Carefully, she crept along.
She gave a gasp when she saw them: stacks of boxes of completed collars, on a series of shelves. Ready for shipping. Dozens. Hundreds. Maybe thousands. And every one represented a mutant slave. She could feel her anger start to rise. She fought it down.
"Hello up there!" called a voice. "We have been waiting for you!"
Ellie looked down. It was the blond woman. She was looking up at her – and there were two men with machine guns next to her.
The men with the guns fired. Bullets bounced around Ellie, throwing sparks off the metal. But she knew they had not been trying to hit her. Just telling her that they could.
"Why don't you come down and join us?" called the woman. "That ladder there. Don't try to be clever, and you might live a bit longer."
Not much choice. So Ellie climbed down. When she was on the ground the woman and her guards came over to her. And there was another woman as well. A mutant, with crimson-tinged skin and an expression that spoke of a nasty attitude. A heavy leather coat. No control collar. The technicians who had been working on the production line had left.
The blond woman looked at her. "I've heard of you. I like to keep up with the mutant community. Negasonic Teenage Warhead. A friend of mine – well, someone who occasionally takes money from me – told me you might drop in. Tell me, is there something I can call you that is not such a mouthful?"
"That's my name," said Ellie, "If you don't like it, fuck you."
"Really. Well, I am Doctor Moreau." She looked at the insignia on the shoulder of Ellie's uniform. "X-Man, eh? But I think that you are not here in an official capacity. Nevertheless, I need you to tell me all about them. I expect that one day I will have to deal with them, and I would like to be prepared. Powers, weaknesses, tactics, everything."
"Is there some part of 'fuck you' that needs translation?" said Ellie. But she saw that the two men had moved into position, one on each side of her, their guns only a few inches from her temples. They each put a hand under her arm, pinning her.
"Oh, you young people, so expressive," said Moreau. "But nevertheless, you will tell me. Red will see to that." She gestured for the mutant to step forward.
Red put her hand on Ellie's head. There was a pulse of dark energy.
Ellie screamed – of at least tried to. Her body had become a rigid as stone, but it felt as if every nerve was on fire. If she was not being held up by the two men she would have collapsed.
Red took her hand away.
"Quite a power, isn't it?" said Moreau. "And here's the funny thing. It only works on mutants. Which goes to show, I think, that you people are your own worst enemy."
Ellie could feel the paralysis wearing off. And then Red touched her again. She struggled to remain conscious.
"Feel free to pass out," said Moreau. "You'll recover, and then we'll start again. We've plenty of time. After a while, you will give in, and give me chapter and verse on the others. You might end up with some bling of your own." She gestured at the stacks of collars. "That's really the bigger story, isn't it. Eventually, most of you mutants will have one. And I'm working on technology that will be able to identify mutants when they are born. They can receive a collar right then. That's how it will be. And then you will serve us. Forever."
Ellie had recovered enough to speak. She stared at Red. "So you're alright with that?" she said.
Red smiled. "Better an employee on the winning side than a loser slave," she said. "Which is what you will be, pretty. Maybe I'll make you mine." She hit her again.
Moreau was staring at Ellie. "You know, you are much stronger than I would have thought," she said.
Ellie wondered if she had the will left. She decided she did. She spat in Moreau's face.
Moreau started. She saw Ellie give a grim smile.
Moreau wiped the spittle away and gestured to Red again. "Make the next one extra strong," she said.
Suddenly, from above them was a crash. Glass rained down. And Christina came plummeting in, through the skylight. She hit the floor so hard the whole place trembled. Superhero landing.
She stood up and brushed shards of glass from her hair. She glanced at Ellie. "I guess this means," she said, "that you can't trust anyone in the music business."
"Red, get her!" shouted Moreau.
"Don't let her touch you!" gasped Ellie. One of the men hit her in the stomach with the butt of his gun. Ellie grunted in pain.
"You two, watch her," said Moreau to the guards. "If she so much as glows, put a bullet in her. A lot of bullets."
Red was running forward but Christina, warned, upended a desk to stop her. But Red pushed it aside and kept coming, reaching out.
Christina picked up a wooden pole and swung it. It smashed into Red, sending her down. But she was up again in a moment. Christina swung again, and this time Red caught the pole. There was a flash of crimson energy along it. Christina flung the pole aside just before it reached her.
"Why don't you try punching me?" snarled Red. "Of course, to do that you have to touch me. Which you can't."
"I guessing you don't get asked on dates much, then," said Christina. She picked up one of the computers and threw it. It whacked into Red, driving her back.
Ellie was aware of the two guns pointing at her. Some of her sensation had returned but the men were still keeping her pinned. She closed her eyes, as if exhausted.
Concentrate, she told herself. Focus. She gathered what energy she had. She pushed it into her hands. Her fingers. The tips.
Now.
Twin bolts of energy shot from her, slamming into the guns and knocking them from the men's hands. Stunned, the two men released their grip on her. Then they realised that that was a mistake.
Ellie lashed out, a punch and a kick. Good thing Colossus made me practice the hand-to-hand, she thought. He always told me it would come in useful.
She kept hitting, the movement helping to drive away the remains of the paralysis and build her energy. One of the men went down to a looping kick to the head. She turned to face the other. Her eyes flickered with nuclear heat.
He turned and ran.
Christina was still battling Red. The fight had carried them across the warehouse, into the storage area. Suddenly, Christina held up a hand. "Wait, time out!" she said. Red stopped.
"You seem to be not a bad person," said Christina to her. "Well, not very bad, I mean. Perhaps you've just fallen in with the wrong crowd. So if you walk away right now, I'm willing to put this whole incident down as a draw."
Red gave a snorting laugh. "Or what?" she snarled.
"This," said Christina. She reached up and pulled the shelf of control collars down onto Red. She went down. But she was not finished yet.
Christina grabbed her. No, thought Ellie. Not her. The coat.
Christina ripped the heavy leather coat from Red before she could fully recover. She tore it into two, wrapping a piece around each hand.
"You should have called it even," said Christina.
Wham.
Then another punch. And another. Red staggered backwards. There was another series of hammering blows. She tottered, almost unconscious. Christina, her hands still protected, picked her up and swung her. And sent her flying through a window. There was a shattering of glass and a scream as she disappeared into the darkness.
Ellie walked over to Christina, who was calmly unwrapping the leather from her hands.
"Where did you send her?" said Ellie, nodding at the shattered window.
"Beats me."
They looked around. "Stand back," said Ellie. Christina did.
Negasonic Teenage Warhead unleashed a massive blast of energy. The collars, the tools, the computers, the cabinets of papers, everything went up. There was no trace of the technology left.
Ellie turned to Moreau. She put one hand on her throat. The other was aflame with energy. She pulled it back, ready to strike. "You don't deserve to live," she said. Her eyes were on fire.
A moment, she suddenly thought. This is a moment.
Am I cold-blooded killer or not?
She let the energy subside.
"You have nothing left now," she said to Moreau. "It's not for me to punish you. But if you ever so much as think about this technology again, I'll burn you to ashes."
Then she turned and walked away.
Moreau rubbed the bruises on her neck. "What a weakling," she muttered.
"Don't think so," said Christina. "But she is one of the good guys. And they have rules. Your problem, though, is that I am not one of the good guys. I say, screw the rules."
She put a hand on each side of the Doctor's head and twisted. There was a brutal snap. She slumped to the floor, dead.
She joined Ellie outside the warehouse.
"I think it's fair to say that she won't be going back into the slave trade any time soon," said Christina, as they began to walk along the street. "And, by the way, the DJ says he's sorry."
"Like I've always said, you can't trust anyone over nineteen. Do I need to thank you for the dramatic rescue?"
"Nah. But maybe you can tell me something."
"What?"
"The big metal guy. Has he ever mentioned me?"
Ellie smiled. "He told me," she said, "to give you his best regards."
END
Note to readers: Darkpenn recently published a novel about a female superhero (sort of). Anyone who is interested can find it on Amazon. Title is I, Viridian: Supervillain. E-copy and hard copy. Author name is Derek Parker. Book blurb is:
This is the story of Viridian: supervillain, fan of Shakespeare, owner of many sexy shoes, carefree and irresponsible at the competitive level, bearer of a mystical gem that gives her incredible powers.
Raised by thieves to be a thief, she was never really a child, or never grew up, she doesn't know which. When she washes up on the shores of Oklahoma City, pursued by shadowy forces and an unknown enemy, she links up with an oddball gang of would-be supercriminals: mastermind Monk, samurai Tantō, strongman Cave, and the remarkable Flux.
And through them she discovers what it is she is looking for: a reason to fight, a reason to stay, a reason to care, and, most of all, a reason to love.