Disclaimer: Neon Genesis Evangelion is the creation of Anno and Gainax. I don't own it, make no claims to it, and am making no profit from this fan fiction. No infringement of copyright is intended. In other words, please don't sue.
Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or anything associated with it, and I am making no profit from this fan fiction. No infringement of copyright is intended. In other words, please don't sue.
Chapter Two: The Homefront
Mari Illustrious Makinami was running in a circle.
If just about anyone else had been doing this, it wouldn't have been a big deal at all. At most, the runner might eventually get a case of the dizzies and then tumble to the ground in a heap.
Of course, unlike most everyone else, Mari Illustrious Makinami could run at several times the speed of sound without even breaking a sweat, and she was doing so right at that very moment.
"You're doing it, Mari!" Denise cheered from a safe distance away, watching as dust from the Kansas plains began to swirl about through the air.
Seconds later, there was a funnel of air created by Mari's super speed; her circular running had created a bona fide twister, albeit a rather small one.
"Yeah! You did it!" Denise shouted exuberantly, even as wind from the twister her friend had created caused her clothes to go whipping about.
In the blink of an eye, Mari was no longer near the whirlwind and was instead standing next to her friend. "Okay, this sounded pretty goofy when you suggested it, but I have to admit it's actually pretty cool," the pilot said, gazing at her handiwork.
"Yeah," Denise said absently, now eyeing the twister with a rather concerned gaze. The rapidly churning wind was starting to wander about, appearing to have a mind of its own without Mari there to keep it confined to one spot. "Hey, are you gonna get rid of that thing now?"
"You didn't tell me how to do that yet," Mari pointed out.
"So you just didn't ask?" Denise said, blinking.
Mari shrugged. "It's not like there's anything all the way out here for that thing to blow down," she pointed out nonchalantly.
"…Run around it in a circle again, but this time, go the other way," Denise replied, sounding slightly exasperated.
"Right!" Mari said, and then she was off.
Denise watched as her friend ran a few thousand laps around the small twister in the space of the couple of seconds, and the whirlwind quickly began to slow down, losing its distinct shape. In a moment, the funnel of air had come completely unraveled, and Mari came to a stop.
"Sweet!" the EVA pilot commented.
"How are you doing with the other techniques I told you about?" Denise asked.
"I'm definitely getting the hang of them," Mari replied. "In fact, they're starting to feel natural, like I could always do them or something. Which is weird, considering that I thought you were nuts when you told me I could vibrate my molecules, and that would let me run through solid objects or become invisible."
"Well, of course you can do it," Denise said smugly. "It's a Flash Fact."
Mari rolled her eyes. Her friend had been using that little phrase—which came from a big sign in the museum that displayed various different bits of information, like what the exact speed of sound was—way too much lately in Mari's opinion.
"So, how are you doing with my costume?" the pilot asked, changing the subject. "I can't really be the Flash until it's done."
"Relax," Denise said. "I got it all figured out. It should be ready in a couple of days. A week at most."
"Are you sure?" Mari asked skeptically. "I mean, after what happened last time…"
Denise winced slightly at the memory. Using the information the museum had about Barry Allen's costumes and her own keen intelligence, she had applied a chemical to one of the suits that would cause it to expand less when it was removed from the special costume ring.
The problem was, the museum didn't have Barry Allen's original notes from when he'd made the costume, and without them, Denise had only been able to estimate how much of the chemical to use. And she'd estimated wrong; when she'd released the treated costume from the ring again, it had only grown large enough to clothe a doll.
And even if that had worked, it didn't resolve the issue of the wing-fins keeping Mari from wearing her glasses. Or the way the cowl looked weird on someone with long hair.
"I'm sure, I'm sure," Denise said, waving a hand dismissively. "My new solution will have you a good costume soon. I guarantee it."
Two days ago…
Denise hummed to herself as she rode the bus which went from Keystone to Central City. A casual observer might have thought that she was merely in a good mood, but that wasn't the case. She was humming a cheery tune to try and cover up how nervous she felt.
After her recent failures in the field of costume alteration, Denise had come up with a new idea, but it certainly wasn't without risks. In fact, there was a fairly slim-but-real chance that what she was about to do could go very wrong, which was why she was doing it alone and hadn't told Mari about what she was doing.
The bus pulled into one of Central City's bus stations and came to a stop with a hiss of brakes. Denise and the other passengers got off, and the teenage girl made her way outside to the sidewalk. She took out some directions she'd printed out from Google maps earlier, scanned them, looked around to get her bearings, and then started walking down the street.
It wasn't long before she was standing in front of a tailor's shop. Sandwiched between a Subway's and a small bookstore, and with a bunch of mannequins wearing the owner's products standing in the window, the shop couldn't have looked more modest or ordinary. It certainly didn't appear to be the sort of place that should evoke the level of apprehension the teenage girl who stood before it was currently feeling.
Taking a deep breath, Denise walked in.
A little bell attached to the door tinkled as she entered, and the sound immediately caused the proprietor to appear from a back room. He was a heavyset man who looked to be in his early seventies or late eighties. The top of his head was bald, and his remaining hair had long ago turned white. He wore plain black pants, a button-up shirt, a tie, and a dark blue vest. A pair of unstylish glasses with thick black rims sat on his face, and a long tape measure was draped over his shoulders.
He didn't look at all dangerous, and he probably wasn't, but Denise knew that he almost certainly still had very dangerous friends.
"Can I help you?" the old tailor asked.
"That depends," Denise said. "Are you Paul Gambi?"
"That's what they call me," the man replied gruffly.
"I heard they used to call you something else, too," Denise said. "The 'Crime Tailor'. The one who made the costumes for the Flash's rogues. Good costumes, too. Ones that could withstand all the abuse the rogues put themselves through."
Gambi was instantly on guard. "That was never proved," he said. "And even if it was true, that was a long time ago."
"Oh, sure," Denise said, "but, if you were the 'Crime Tailor'—hypothetically speaking, of course—why did you do it? Help equip people like the rogues?"
"Well, so long as we're speaking hypothetically, I suppose the biggest reason I did it was for the same reason I make clothing for anybody else who walks in here: the money," he replied.
"So it was all business?" Denise asked.
"Well, if I did work for the rogues, and I'm not saying I did, I probably would've known 'em a little," Gambi said. "And if I knew them a little, I probably would've seen that while they were bad guys, there weren't evil men, if that makes any sense. Least the ones I made costumes for—if I ever made costumes for any of 'em—weren't. That psycho Murmur, for instance, never got a costume from the Crime Tailor."
Denise nodded. "So, how would you feel about making one more special costume, for someone a little… different from the rogues?"
"Dunno," Gambi replied. "Tell me more about the job."
"First, how… discreet are you about these special jobs? Assuming you ever took any?" Denise asked.
"I always felt that the tailor-customer relationship was as private as the doctor-patient one," Gambi answered.
"Good," Denise said, reaching into her pocket and taking out a folded-up piece of paper. Unfolding it, she handed it over to the tailor. "I want you to make this."
His eyebrows went up as he looked at it. The colored sketch Denise had made showed a costume design that was modified from Barry Allen's costume, complete with various specifications, measurements, and other important notes.
Gambi's gaze took in the measurements, then flicked over to Denise. "This isn't for you," he said flatly.
Blushing furiously, she quickly crossed her arms over her modest chest, which wouldn't have come close to filling out the desired costume. Gambi rolled his eyes.
"Of course it's not for me!" she snapped. "You think she'd come here herself?"
Gambi just shook his head, knowing it probably wouldn't be too hard for a properly motivated individual to find whoever the costume was meant for through whatever links she might have to this girl. "I guess not," he said.
"So will you make it?" Denise asked. "The rogues are all retired, in prison, or dead. She won't do anything to them."
Gambi considered the sketch for a moment. "Yeah, I'll make it."
"Great!" Denise exclaimed. "How much?"
Gambi shook his head. "Used to be, I'd charge an arm and a leg for this kind of thing," he said, "but it's been a long time since I had an interesting job. Tell you what, I'll do it for three-hundred bucks."
Denise winced slightly, even though that was far less than she'd feared. Fortunately, she'd always made a habit of saving more than she spent. The girl produced a trio of hundred dollar bills and handed them over.
"How long will it take?" she asked.
"This job's pretty complex. I even have to special order the fabric, never mind all this other stuff," he said, glancing at the sketch. "Fortunately, you caught me in a lull. I should have it ready in about a week."
Denise nodded. "I'll be back to pick it up then."
Present Time…
"Your new solution doesn't involve, I don't know, making a deal with the mafia or something, does it?" Mari asked.
"No, no, of course not," Denise said with a small, forced chuckle, a little nervous because the guess wasn't that far off.
Mari was seriously considering pressing her friend for the details of her latest plan, and Denise could see it in her eyes. So she quickly changed the subject before the pilot could.
"So how's all the other stuff doing?" Denise asked.
"Well, Jessie's noticed that I've grown, but she didn't realize that it happened practically overnight," Mari said. "I've also stopped getting purple highlights in my hair. I should be a regular old brunette again soon. Kinda sucks, though. I really liked that look."
"Yeah, I know, but it would make it a lot easier for someone to figure out who the new Flash is if you kept the highlights," Denise said. "How's the, uh…?" she stammered.
She awkwardly gestured at Mari's chest, which currently appeared to be much reduced from the size it had been after her first experimental super speed run.
"These Ace bandages I have wrapped around me are as uncomfortable as hell," Mari groaned, "but they do make me look more like I did before."
"Are you loosening them a little bit everyday?" Denise asked.
"Yeah," Mari said. "Can't wait until I can ditch them entirely, but I keep thinking someone will notice just how damn fast I'm 'growing.'"
"I think Bobby Franks in math class has already noticed, but I really don't think he cares at all about the why," Denise said, getting a snicker from Mari. "Seriously, though, people will just think you're having a growth spurt, especially with the way you're eating everything in sight. And since you were apparently due for one anyway, it's not exactly a crazy idea."
"Good point," Mari said. "You know, you're really good at this 'assistant to a superhero' thing, Denise."
"Thanks," Denise said. "Now, why don't we get out of here? I don't think there's much of anything else for you to practice."
"Works for me," Mari agreed. "You mind if we stop someplace to eat on the way back? I'm starving!"
Denise rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"
The next day found Mari back at the NERV base, having just wrapped up a sync test and a series of combat simulations. Always in a good mood after a chance to tear some virtual Angels limb from limb, her smile only widened as she emerged from the locker room and spotted a familiar face.
"Hiya, Hutch!" she greeted the base's head scientist cheerfully. "How'd I do in the sync test today?"
He paled slightly at the sight of her. "Oh, just fine, Pilot Makinami," Dr. Hutchinson replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be going."
Mari was barely able to restrain a laugh as she watched him almost sprint away. She had recently found out that the reason Jessie had gone to the base on the evening when she had been testing her new super speed was to chew out the scientist. By the looks of it, her guardian had really let the guy have it.
Looks like I won't have to worry about him wanting to run any more experiments for a while, Mari thought as she started walking through the halls.
It wasn't long before she found her guardian. "Hey, Jessie," she greeted. "Ready to hit the road?"
"Not just yet, Mari," Jessie replied, and the pilot noticed a concerned expression on her guardian's face.
"What's wrong?" Mari asked.
"Nothing, nothing's wrong," Jessie said, waving a dismissive hand. "It's just that there's a Special Inspector here from the UN. We can't leave until he gets to speak with you."
Mari frowned. She knew that the UN made a point of keeping tabs on the various branches of NERV, or at least tried to, but the inspections had always been very regular in the past. There shouldn't have been another one for a few months yet.
Then she shrugged. It wasn't like she had anything to hide, at least not where her NERV-related activities were concerned, anyway.
"Okay, so where is the guy?" Mari asked.
"He commandeered Vreeland's office," Jessie said.
Mari wasn't impressed by the inspector's ability to throw the base's Vice Commander from his own office. If he'd managed to kick Commander Wells out of his office, on the other hand, then the EVA pilot would have been put on her guard.
"Right," Mari said. "I'll go talk to the guy and meet you by the entrance to the base. I'll be there in fifteen minutes, probably."
"Okay, Mari," Jessie said. "Remember, don't say anything crazy to the guy."
"Oh, c'mon, Jessie, do I ever say anything crazy?" Mari asked.
"All the time," her guardian said flatly. "Now go and get this over with."
Nodding, Mari turned and headed for Vreeland's office, sending her pony tails swinging through the air. Minutes later, she was knocking on the door.
"Come in," a man's voice called.
Mari opened the door and walked inside, finding the Special Inspector sitting at Vreeland's huge oak desk, writing on some papers.
He wasn't at all what the pilot was expecting. Instead of one of the clean cut, suit-wearing inspectors she was used to, this man was wearing plain brown pants, a slightly rumpled, powder blue shirt, and a red tie that was more than loose enough to look sloppy. His long, dark hair was held in a short ponytail, and he had a five o'clock shadow—which, considering it was barely noon, was a pretty good sign he hadn't shaved that morning. A small, vaguely sardonic smile was on his face, and he smelled of Old Spice.
But what really drew Mari's eyes was the big metal suitcase that was sitting on the desk. A pair of handcuffs bound it to his right wrist, like a government agent ferrying top secret papers or something.
"Hello, there," the man said in barely passable English, standing up. "You must be Mari Makinami, the pilot of the Provisional Evangelion Unit. I'm Ryoji Kaji. Pleased to meet you."
He reached across the desk to shake her hand, which was a far more awkward process than it normally would have been, because he had to lift the case with his left hand to keep it from swinging around freely.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kaji," Mari said, then switched languages. "I'm perfectly fluent in Japanese, if that would be easier for you."
"Arigato," Kaji said, gesturing for her to sit down in a chair situated by her side of the desk. "I'm pleased to hear that you're so comfortable with the language."
Mari shrugged. "I'm a quick study, so long as the subject's not history," she said. "So what's with the case?" she asked, gesturing toward the thing.
"Oh, this?" Kaji asked nonchalantly. "Just a special package I have to deliver."
"Well, be careful," Mari said. "I've seen movies where guys carry around suitcases like that, and the Soviets are always trying to cut off his hand to get at what's inside."
Kaji chuckled. "I doubt I'll be encountering a lot of Soviets on my way to Japan."
"You're heading to Japan?" Mari asked.
"Yes, after a stopover in Germany," Kaji replied.
Mari arched an eyebrow. "Isn't it quicker to go west if you're heading for Japan?"
Kaji smiled, clearly amused. "Yes, but you see, I have to go to Germany first, because I'm going to be escorting the Second Child to Tokyo-3."
Mari's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "What?!" she exclaimed. "Why does Asuka get to go to the front while I'm still stuck here?!" she demanded.
Kaji shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know the full reasoning behind the decision to have you remain here in the States for the moment," he said. "Mostly bureaucratic infighting and red tape, from what I understand."
Mari groaned, rubbing her forehead. "I don't believe this," she grumbled. "At this rate, I'll miss the whole war."
"Well, you seem rather distraught about that," Kaji commented, looking bemused.
"Don't wanna rehearse forever and then never get to perform the play," Mari replied, visibly letting go of her irritation. "So, Kaji-san, let's cut to the chase here: what brings you to Bethany Base?"
"I happened to be in the area, and the UN asked me to check in here," Kaji said. "They heard about the incident that occurred during the sync test a few days ago, and they're rather concerned."
"Oh, that?" Mari asked in a dismissive tone. "Look, that was really nothing. Some wires got crossed inside my EVA, and I got a little shock. Everybody around here made way too big a deal out of it."
She might have been willing to jerk this guy's chain around a little, but the last thing she wanted to do was give him the impression that she might not be fit for duty. If the UN was reluctant to let her get into the conflict now, then allowing a Special Inspector to leave with the belief that she might not be perfectly healthy and hale would make them confine her to the sidelines for the duration of the war for sure.
Kaji arched an eyebrow at her response and plucked a tan folder out of the pile of papers he had on the desk. Opening it, he quickly scanned the contents. "It says here that the plug was briefly electrified with a…hell of lot of power," he said. "Far more than constitutes a 'little shock.' Most people would've been pretty badly hurt."
"Well, I'm not most people. I'm a trained soldier, and an EVA-tough one, too. Check it out," Mari said, rolling up her sleeve.
She flexed her arm, causing her biceps--which her military training had caused to grow to an impressively large size for a teenage girl--to politely pop up and make their presence known. "See?" she asked. "Do I look sick or injured to you?"
"No, you appear to be very healthy," Kaji admitted.
"Aw, thanks," Mari replied. "You'd be really cute, too, if you shaved."
Kaji blinked, taken aback. Then a snicker escaped him before he was able to get himself under control. "Yes, well, now that we've got that issue out of the way, there are a few other questions I have for you…"
Most of the rest of Kaji's inquiries concerned routine matters, the kinds of things that all the UN inspectors asked, or the circumstances that led up to the malfunction that caused her to get shocked. Mari gave him the standard answers to the former and just told him the truth to the latter, not about to lie in an attempt to protect Hutchinson.
"Are we almost done here?" Mari asked after a few minutes of questions. "I don't know about you, but I have places to go and people to see."
"Almost, Makinami-san," Kaji said. "Just one more—"
He was abruptly cut off by a loud, high pitched noise that Mari had never heard outside of drills and the like before.
The unmistakable sound of the base's Angel alarm.
"Sorry, Kaji-san, but it sounds like they're playing my song," Mari said, getting up so quickly that she knocked over the chair she'd been sitting in. "Catch you later!"
Please don't be a drill. Please don't be a drill, she thought as she sprinted out of the room, heading back toward the locker room. Once inside, she practically ripped off her clothing in her rush to get changed. She got into her plug suit more quickly than she ever had before, though she still grimaced as she pressed the button to make the suit contract. The thing had already been getting too small before she'd accidentally used her new abilities to age herself a few months. Now it was pretty damn uncomfortable.
At least I don't have to wear those damn bandages underneath it, she thought to herself, even as she ignored the discomfort that her suit caused her and headed for the cage.
When she arrived in the huge room where her Unit Five was kept, she found the base's technicians frantically going over some last minute preparations, thus reassuring her that a real battle truly was about to unfold.
"Is Unit Five ready?" she asked the technician in charge of the cage.
"Yeah," the harried looking man answered, "she's all primed and ready to go. The brass told me to tell you to board her immediately. They'll brief you as we're moving Unit Five to the lift."
"Right," Mari agreed, immediately making her way to the entry plug. However, she stopped when she was only halfway inside the thing. "Hey, one thing before I head out!"
"What?" the cage leader asked.
"Unit Five isn't a 'she.' He's a guy!" Mari said.
The cage leader gave her an incredulous look, clearly unable to believe that the EVA pilot would spend precious seconds clarifying the gender of the giant death machine she piloted.
"Fine, it's a guy!" the man snapped, abruptly recovering. "Just go!"
Grinning impishly, Mari disappeared into the plug, sitting in her command seat. She quickly started to attach the various cable to be found inside the plug to the arms of her suit and then donned her big helmet. Immediately, the plug started to fill with LCL, and the visor in her helmet swirled with the familiar kaleidoscope of wild colors before showing her the inside of the cage.
As her mind linked with Unit Five, she could feel its eagerness for violence and combat as she always did. She knew that she would finally be able to give it what it had wanted for so long, and she thought that it knew, too. She swore she could feel its excitement, rivaling her own in intensity.
A window marked FROM COMMAND opened up on her visor before the plug was even half full, showing the visage of Commander Wells.
"Pilot Makinami, a few minutes ago, an Angel appeared on our radar without any warning. It's like it just appeared from thin air," the venerable old soldier began without preamble. "The base computer is analyzing it now, but at the moment, all we know is what it looks like, and that it's approaching fast."
Another window popped up on her visor, showing Mari an image of the Angel. The thing had one blocky, central body, to which a pair of long "arms" that looked more like giant human spines were attached. On the end of each of the arms was an equally bony, vaguely bird-like skull, fairly similar to the face of the Third Angel.
"Wow, even by the Angels' standards, this one is ugly," Mari commented.
"Take this seriously, Pilot," Wells ordered. "Remember, this isn't Tokyo-3. We don't have weapons turrets the size of skyscrapers. We have one Patriot missile battery to back you up."
"Kill it, and do it all by myself," Mari said. "Got it."
It was approximately this point that Mari felt Unit Five begin to move. Because of the size of the Provisional Unit, it needed a much bigger delivery system than the "standard" Evangelions. Unit Five was being moved to the lift by the single largest, most powerful conveyor belt ever built by the hands of man.
"We'll be sending you intel as we get it," Wells said. "And remember, no grandstanding."
"Roger that, sir," Mari replied.
Her impish grin didn't reassure the Commander one bit, but he didn't say anything else to her. He merely gave her a long warning look and then closed the connection.
Immediately after that communications window had winked out, another opened up, this time showing Jessie's worried face.
"Hey, Mari," she said softly.
"Hey, Jessie," Mari replied, unable to restrain her excitement for even a moment.
"Looks like this is it, kiddo," Jessie said, taking a deep breath. "Your first real battle."
"Yup," Mari said. "Hey, five bucks says I can kill it in under five minutes."
"No bet," Jessie said, shaking her head. "Listen, Mari, I know you've been training for this sort of thing for years, that you're gonna knock this out of the park, and that I shouldn't be worried. But still…be careful, all right?"
Under normal circumstances, Mari probably would have replied that the word "careful" wasn't in her vocabulary and never had been.
However, the sight of concern shining in her guardian's eyes kept her from saying that.
"I won't take any unnecessary risks, Jessie," she said instead.
"Good," Jessie replied. "All right, Mari, show 'em what you're made of."
Mari nodded, and the communications window snapped closed, leaving her alone in the plug.
It took NERV nearly two minutes to get the bulky Provisional EVA Unit from the cage to the gigantic lift that would take it to the surface. Mari spent the time by humming a little tune to herself which one of the technicians who often oversaw her combat simulations had written and recorded a copy of himself. At her request, he would often play it when she was tearing virtual Angels limb from limb.
He had named the melody, appropriately enough, "Decisive Battle".
There was a dull thump as the conveyor belt finally deposited her onto the specially made Evangelion lift, then a deep hum that Mari recognized as the magnetic locks engaging. With the other Evangelions, NERV applied simple but enormous shackles to the feet in order to keep inertia from sending the mecha flying into the air at the end of their brief, very fast trip to the surface. But since Unit Five had no real feet, its lift instead utilized magnets to achieve the same result.
"Evangelion Unit Five, launch!" she heard Command Wells bellow over her radio.
The Provisional EVA instantly began to rocket up the lift shaft, and Mari grit her teeth at the sensation of force pressing down upon her, similar to that of a very fast rollercoaster but far more intense.
With a thought, she caused a tactical map of the area to appear on his visor, showing her the Angel's location relative to her own. The damn thing was right next to the point on the surface where she would exit the lift.
A wicked grin formed on Mari's face, and she slammed her fist down on one of the buttons inside her cockpit.
The words "MAGNETIC LOCKS DISENGAGED" flashed before her eyes in big, block letters.
"Mari!" Jessie exclaimed, her communications window reappearing on her visor. "What are you—?"
Unit Five reached the end of the lift before the lieutenant could even finish asking the question, the huge death machine flying straight up into the air.
The Kansas sun beat down on the unusual Evangelion for the first time in a very long time, its light shining off the Provisional Unit's green and white hull. Unlike the other EVA's out there, Unit Five had four long, almost spidery legs which each ended in a great wheel that could be shifted in position to become a simple sort of foot if the situation demanded it. One of its robotic arms ended in a progressive lance that was almost as long as the Evangelion's torso, and the other, equally mechanical upper extremity terminated in a simple, metallic pincer.
Letting out a whoop of wild joy, Mari commanded her Evangelion to shift its weight about, causing it to turn upside down and twist about wildly as it arced through the air, its four legs spinning around and around like some kind of crazy propeller.
The Angel didn't move. It merely looked up, observing its enemy, and looking about as stunned as a monstrosity with no real face possibly could.
Then Unit Five reached the apex of its flight. For one second in which the world seemed to be holding its breath, the multi-ton war machine just hung suspended in the air.
Then it began to come down. Mari immediately managed to turn it right side up again so that it would fall feet first—or, more accurately, wheels first.
"COWABUNGA!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as the enormous Evangelion plunged to earth, fully in gravity's thrall.
It landed, exactly as Mari had planned, right on top of the Angel. The great beast, which had previously been hovering a few hundred feet off the dusty ground, was abruptly slammed into the earth along with Unit Five. Each of the Evangelion's feet threw up a dust cloud as high as any building on the base, and the impact caused the ground to rumble so hard that small tremors could be felt by the inmates in Iron Highs Prison, twenty miles away.
The Angel seemed understandably dazed by Mari's opening attack, and it was trapped beneath Unit Five's weight, the Provisional Evangelion's four legs trapping it like the bars of a cage.
"That was awesome! So much better than the combat sims! I could really feel the G's!" Mari exclaimed. "I've lived my entire life for this moment!"
"You just told me you wouldn't take any unnecessary risks!" Jessie shrieked, her communications window popping up on Mari's visor again.
"Yes. I think it would be a very unnecessary risk for me not to make use of the element of surprise," Mari replied.
This answer left Jessie sputtering in consternation.
Closing the communications link to her guardian, Mari activated her EVA's progressive lance. The huge melee weapon came to life with a joyous hum, causing the pilot to grin savagely.
"Now, Angel-face, let's play a game," Mari said. "It's called 'find the core!'"
With a loud, wordless battle cry, she plunged the weapon into the Angel's hide, punching right through the quasi-exoskeleton the main body was covered with. Huge spurts of dark blue blood spurted out from the wound, and the Angel roared in pain.
"Hmm, not there!" Mari said, withdrawing the lance from the Angel's flesh. "How about…over here?" she asked, stabbing into her enemy again and setting off another geyser of blood.
"Nope, not there, either!" Mari said. "Don't worry, Angel-face, I'm gonna turn you into Swiss cheese until I find it!"
This might have gone on until the Angel was reduced to a hole-ridden, bloody mess, except that the monstrosity wasn't willing to be defeated so easily. One of its long, spine-like arms moved, its motions producing a horrendous sound that was vaguely reminiscent to that of a joint popping. The bony, bird-like skull at the end pointed itself directly at Unit Five, and the eyes lit up with white light.
"Mari!" Jessie exclaimed, reopening the communications link. "Look out!"
The EVA pilot turned to look at the Angel's grotesque arm a second too late. A blast of blinding light shot forth from the eyes of the ossified face, plowing straight into Unit Five.
The massive Provisional EVA Unit was too heavy for even that attack to render it airborne, but it did go bouncing across the empty Kansas plains, almost like a stone skipping over the surface of a pond. Mari let out a cry as she was thrown every which way inside the plug, and everyone inside the command center held their breath. If Unit Five didn't land upright, it would be nearly as helpless to get up again as a turtle on its back.
Finally, Unit Five came to a stop, and all four of its wheels were on the ground. Everyone inside the command center released a collective sigh of relief.
"Okay," Mari said, "the gloves are officially coming off!"
Its armored tires screeching and kicking up great clouds of brown dust, Unit Five surged forward. Its external speakers blared Mari's loud war cry across the plains as the EVA charged like a demon that had broken free from hell. The Angel, still bleeding heavily from the great puncture wounds its enemy had inflicted upon it, wasn't fast enough to evade the advancing behemoth.
Mari swung Unit Five's left arm, and the pincer claw at the end smashed right into the front of the Angel's main body with a tremendous, ringing clang! The beast went reeling from the force of the blow.
But it must not have been hurting too much, because it immediately lashed out with one of its own arms in retaliation, the skull at the end of it slamming into Unit Five's head hard enough to shatter some of the armor over it and reveal part of its face.
It had its teeth bared. It was growling.
So was Mari. She struck the Angel with Unit Five's pincer hand again and again, and the Angel retaliated with blows of its own. For several seconds, the two titans pummeled each other in this fashion, both of them rapidly becoming battered and damaged beneath the constant, withering assaults.
Then Hutchinson's face popped up on Mari's visor. "Pilot Makinami! The base computer has finally managed to locate the core!" he said. "We're sending you the data now!"
The communications window winked out, replaced by a wire frame image of the Angel, with the core shown as a red sphere. Mari's eyes widened as she saw its position. It wasn't in the main body at all. Instead, it was inside the skull thing at the end of the Angel's left arm.
No wonder I couldn't get at it by stabbing the—!
Her thought was cut off as the Angel, capitalizing on her moment of distraction, wrapped its long, bony right arm around Unit Five's left arm like a snake encircling its prey and then gave a fierce pull.
The Provisional Evangelion's two right wheels left the ground as the immense war machine tilted dangerously to the left.
"Crap," Mari hissed softly through gritted teeth, desperately commanding her EVA to shift its weight to the right in an effort to get out of the precarious position the Angel had put it in.
For one very pregnant moment, the Evangelion's motion came to a complete halt, and it just hung in its awkward, half knocked down position.
Then the Angel smacked the EVA with its free arm, causing it to abruptly complete its journey to the ground. The earth shook again as the Evangelion crashed down to it on its side, its four legs now awkwardly splayed out in the air. Mari grimaced as she shared the pain that was blossoming in her EVA's non-mechanical shoulder, and she knew that the arm with the pincer had been thoroughly crushed and mangled beneath the Provisional Evangelion's weight.
The Angel wasted no time capitalizing on its latest victory. Though one of its arms was now pinned beneath the EVA, it began to rain blows down upon Unit Five with the other. The strikes severely dented the EVA's armor, even shattering it in some places. In those places, dark red began to pour out from wounds in the Evangelion's flesh. Mari couldn't stop a groan of pain from passing her lips, as it felt like someone was repeatedly striking her own side with a hammer.
The only blessing was that the Angel wasn't utilizing its energy attack again, and the EVA pilot had a suspicion it wasn't doing that only because it sensed its enemy had been rendered helpless it and wanted to make that enemy die slowly.
"Mari!" Jessie shouted, a communications window popping up on the pilot's visor. "Get out of there! Eject now!"
"No way!" Mari exclaimed. "I got this!"
"What?!" Jessie squawked incredulously.
"Sever the left arm!" Mari yelled.
"Are you insane?!" Jessie snapped. "That won't help anything, and part of the EVA's shoulder will be blown off with it! You'll feel that pain!"
"I know that!" Mari yelled. "Just do it!"
Jessie just stared at her, dumbstruck, but either Commander Wells gave the order or some enterprising technician took the initiative. Because a moment later, a small but powerful charge embedded inside Unit Five's left shoulder exploded, blowing it and the ruined mechanical arm clean off.
The pain from that was incredible, easily far worse than anything Mari had ever endured before. Only her training prevented her from bursting into tears, screaming, and frantically checking her own arm to make sure that it was still there, and had not been reduced to a bloody stump.
Which was a good thing, because, as she'd known, the window of opportunity this action created was only open for a split second. The explosion, occurring between the EVA's body and the Earth, propelled the smaller object, namely the EVA, away from itself. With a loud grunt of effort, Mari made Unit Five throw all its weight to the right, also leaning her own body to the side for good measure.
It was just enough. Unit Five's four wheels hit the ground with a loud crash, and the war machine was ready for action again.
The Angel seemed to recoil in shock, and Mari instantly took advantage of the moment her crazy maneuver had given her. Sending her battered Evangelion forward, she struck at the end of the Angel's arm with her progressive lance, the tip hitting the bird-like skull there dead on and pinning it solidly to the ground.
The great beast absolutely panicked in response to this, and it began to frantically hammer away at Unit Five with its free arm. Mari barely registered the blows, her entire being completely focused upon shattering the bird-skull thing and the red core inside it.
Cracks began to form in the remarkably tough bone of Mari's target. The Angel released a loud shriek of agony and rage.
A savage grin formed on the pilot's face.
Somehow collecting itself enough to attack with everything it had, the Angel pointed the bony face at the end of its free arm directly at Unit Five. The eyes lit up with a dangerous white light. The cracks in the Angel's other skull grew in size, and thin but intense shafts of light began to pour out.
"Mari!" Jessie exclaimed. "Look out! It's going to fire!"
"I know, but I have to get this!" Mari replied.
"Mari!" Jessie yelled.
Then the skull Unit Five was assaulting abruptly shattered, and the progressive lance was free to stab into the red core hidden inside, instantly piercing it.
The moment it was broken, the core exploded spectacularly, bathing Unit Five and much of the surrounding area in white flame and momentarily blinding the EVA pilot. Several of the buildings of Bethany base—none of which were occupied, thanks to one of the base's protocols, which dictated that all personnel be in the underground sections during an Angel attack—imploded beneath the force of the resulting shockwave, going from solid structures to mere piles of debris in the blink of an eye.
And then it was over, leaving the world almost preternaturally silent. Unit Five's battered and badly damaged form stood alone on the field of battle. The Angel's body had apparently been completely annihilated by the explosion.
Realizing that she was panting hard despite the way the LCL she was immersed in was oxygenating her blood directly, Mari leaned back in her command chair, her whole body going limp as the battle fury and adrenaline began to rapidly desert her.
A big, silly grin slowly spread over her face as she began to catch her breath. "That," she said softly to herself, "was more fun…than I ever…dared to hope…it would be."
A few minutes later, Unit Five was returned to its cage, allowing a distraught crew of technicians to survey the extensive damage.
"Sorry, guys," Mari said to them as she climbed out of her plug. "It looks like I got it pretty scratched up out there."
The leader of the group of techs just gave her a look, and Mari decided it might be a good idea to be somewhere else at the moment. However, as she headed to the door out of the cage, she ran into her guardian, who was clearly waiting for her.
"Hey, Jessie," Mari greeted, knowing that it was a bad idea to be smiling but unable to stop herself.
"Commander Wells wants a word with you, so report to his office as soon as you've showered and changed," Jessie said. "I'll be wanting to speak with you after he's done."
Back to back lectures, Mari thought, knowing she was going to be hearing about her lack of caution for the next hour, at least.
Well, fine, she could live with that. With the way she was feeling, it was impossible to dampen her spirits at the moment, anyway. And she could always defend herself by saying she hadn't technically disobeyed an order—her definition of terms like "careful" and "unnecessary risks" were just a little different. Besides, she knew there was no chance that they'd discharge her from NERV, not now that she was a member of a very small, very elite group: veteran Angel killers.
"Got it," Mari said, then began to head for the locker room. However, she slowed and the stopped after only a few steps. "By the way, whatever happened to that Special Inspector? I don't think he was done with me."
"Kaji?" Jessie asked with a small frown. "He hopped onto a plane and flew out of here before the battle even started."
"Huh," Mari grunted, a little surprised by that. Then she shrugged. "Guess that means his inspection is over."
Days passed, and the appearance of an Angel on American soil caused quite a lot of debates and arguments to break out amongst the upper echelons of the US military and the American NERV branches. They had all been quite content to let the war against the Angels unfold entirely in Japan, which had been the plan all along, and it understandably disturbed the nation that an Angel had attacked Kansas. The fact that only Tokyo-3 was truly equipped to support the Evangelions as they fought the Angels didn't help anyone's peace of mind.
Ideas and suggestions were thrown about by various individuals. Some proposed to turn every major city in America into fortresses to rival Tokyo-3, ignoring the obscene cost such a project would incur. On the opposite end of the spectrum, others advocated immediately either dismantling all the American-made Evangelions or shipping them to Japan—despite the fact that Units Three and Four weren't finished yet—and then for the USA to pull out of NERV's endeavors entirely. These ideas, as well as every one that could possibly be between them, were discussed at great length.
Mari, who loathed politics almost as much as she loathed history, paid no attention to any of it. Indeed, she had very little to do with NERV at all in the days immediately following her battle against the first Angel to strike US soil; Jessie had grounded her for three days, and Wells had banned her from doing combat sims for a week.
Then, the day after her punishment from Jessie was over, she was unexpectedly summoned to Commander Wells office. She and her guardian at once made their way to the base and then the old soldier's office.
"Enter," Wells said gruffly after Jessie knocked.
Opening the door, they walked into Wells' sizable office, which looked almost exactly the way one would expect a highly decorated officer's personal workspace to appear. It was fairly plain, and the only embellishments were of a martial nature, such as the antique, Civil War-era pistols that were displayed on one of the walls. The Commander also made a point of making sure his office was always kept meticulously neat and orderly.
Seeing them come inside, Wells took the papers he'd been writing on and put them inside one of his desk drawers.
"You asked to see me, sir?" Mari asked.
"Yes," Wells said. "You and Quinn have a seat."
The two of them obediently sat down in a pair of guest chairs in the Commander's office and waited for the man to speak.
"The Joint Chiefs of Staff have reached something resembling a consensus on the matter of the attack here," Wells said. "They are of the belief that the Angel attacked Bethany Base because it was drawn to Unit Five somehow."
Mari and Jessie exchanged a brief look. They supposed it was possible; the Angels had only attacked Tokyo-3 in the past, which had more Evangelions than any other location. All the other NERV bases scattered across the world only had one Evangelion apiece, if that, and most of those were half built.
And yet somehow, it didn't feel quite right to either of them.
"So what does that mean for us, sir?" Jessie asked tentatively.
"It means that the Joint Chiefs want Unit Five out of our country, and we've received orders to ship it, and its pilot, to Japan. After repairs to it are completed," he added upon seeing Mari's face light up. "Which should be some time, considering how much damage it took during the battle."
"I see," Jessie said. "So that's why you called us in here, sir? To tell us we'll be shipping out once Unit Five is battle ready again?"
"That's not the whole reason," Wells grumbled, not looking the least bit pleased. "I have a task for you, Pilot Makinami."
"What is it, sir?" Mari asked.
"When you're in NERV Central, I want you to observe your surroundings and report back to me about them," Wells said.
Jessie frowned. "Sir, are you asking Mari to be your spy in Tokyo-3?"
"In a sense," Wells answered.
"With all due respect, sir, Mari has more than enough responsibilities to deal with already without having to be a spy, too," the lieutenant protested. "Don't we have intelligence agencies for this sort of thing?"
With a sigh, Wells rose from his chair and began to pace about his office, obviously not the least bit happy with what he was asking Mari to do, but also unwilling to rescind the command.
"Of course we have agencies for this sort of thing," he said. "The problem is, they're coming up with jack-shi…squat."
Mari smirked slightly at the man's obvious censoring of himself, as though she didn't regularly hear far worse profanities in school from her fellow students.
"How can that be, sir?" Jessie asked.
"Because, none of them are talking to each other enough. CIA barely ever communicates with the NSA, NSA doesn't talk to the military's intelligence agencies, and so on," Wells said disgustedly.
"Aren't there protocols in place to ensure that the various intelligence agencies keep one another informed?" Jessie asked.
"There were," Wells said darkly.
"Sir?" Mari asked curiously.
"Have you ever heard of Arthur Boone?" Wells replied.
"Isn't he the American representative on the Human Instrumentality Committee?" Jessie asked.
"That's right," Wells nodded. "And the Instrumentality Committee is the body that authorizes most of NERV's funding. I have friends in various places in Washington who tell me—all off the record, of course—that Boone used his connections to get those protocols removed, and to stir up excessive inter-agency rivalry amongst the various players involved in our nation's intelligence gathering. He screwed up the whole intelligence process, basically. Everybody might have a piece of the puzzle, but they can never get them all together in one place."
"So where exactly do I come in?" Mari asked.
"As a pilot, NERV Central has no choice but to allow you a considerable level of access once you get to Tokyo-3," Wells said. "And as someone not part of a traditional intelligence gathering organization, you won't be stuck in the bureaucratic nightmare Boone's created to keep us blind."
"Sir, please," Jessie spoke up, "if you really feel you need to have someone in NERV Central sending you information, let me be that person."
Wells shook his head. "Negative, Lieutenant Quinn. You're not an EVA pilot. Ikari won't have any trouble keeping you from observing anything important."
"But sir, we already force Mari to take far too many risks for a teenage girl," Jessie protested. "To ask this of her too just isn't right."
"I'm not asking her to go crawling through the air ducts in NERV Central or to rappel down into Terminal Dogma or anything," Wells said. "For now, all I want is for her to keep her eyes and ears open while she's there and report back to me."
"And what if Ikari finds out Mari's doing that?" Jessie asked. "You know what they say about Tokyo-3."
"That you can't break wind there without Ikari finding out about it eventually," Wells scowled. "I don't believe that, Lieutenant. It's just people turning my counterpart in Tokyo-3 into some kind of boogeyman."
"Okay, well, you have to admit that Mari's not exactly…well-suited for intelligence gathering, sir," Jessie said. "For all her good qualities, she's about as subtle as a bolt of lightning."
Mari smirked. Neither Wells nor Jessie noticed.
"Which is why it will be your job to keep her from getting too gung ho about this," Wells replied. "Keep all that energy channeled into EVA piloting, not trying to be Jane Bond or something."
"Yes, sir," Jessie said, finally defeated.
"That is, however, only if Pilot Makinami agrees," Wells added.
"Sir?" Mari asked.
"Lieutenant Quinn is correct about at least one thing, Pilot," Wells said. "We do ask too much of you. Therefore, I will not order you to do this. You can turned down this task if you wish."
"I'll do it," Mari said at once.
Unlike the two adults in the room with her, Mari had never felt like she was carrying such a huge burden. Indeed, if not for the long, boring sync tests she had to regularly endure, she would have felt like she should be paying NERV, rather than the other way around.
"Good," Wells said, nodding. "Remember, no doing anything crazy. Just report back on anything unusual you see or hear. Oh, and I want you to pay special attention to Shinji Ikari."
"The Third Child? Why?" Mari asked.
Wells turned to stare at a large, framed painting of the Monitor and the Merrimack pummeling each other with cannon fire that hung on one of the walls in his office. "You heard of what he accomplished during the First Battle of Tokyo-3, correct?"
"Who in NERV hasn't?" Mari asked. "They stuffed him into the plug for the first time ever because Ayanami wasn't able to pilot, and he managed to achieve a forty percent sync ratio and defeat the Angel."
"That's their story, anyway," Wells said darkly.
"You believe there's more to it?" Jessie asked.
"Considering that Soryu, Ayanami, and Makinami all needed months of training before any of them could produce so much as a blip on the synchronograph? Yes, I absolutely do," Wells said. "I don't believe for a second that the day the Third Angel attacked was the first time that boy ever saw the inside of an entry plug."
"You think Commander Ikari had his son secretly trained to pilot EVA? Why would NERV Central do that?" Mari asked.
"I don't think the relationship between Gendo and his son is as bad as we've been led to believe," Wells said. "I suspect Ikari is trying to create a force of EVA pilots loyal to him above any other authority."
Mari's eyes widened slightly at the idea. She didn't think Asuka would ever follow Commander Ikari's orders over those of, say, the UN Secretary General, but it was well known throughout all of NERV that Ayanami was Commander Ikari's pet pilot. If Gendo Ikari somehow gained exclusive control the world's Evangelions, it would be seriously bad, to say the least. He couldn't actually hope to conquer the world with them—Evangelions required far too much support for any campaign of that nature to ever succeed—but he could cause a hell of a lot of chaos and destruction. Probably blackmail the UN into giving him quite a lot.
Hell, he might be able to make himself the new Emperor of Japan or something, if he played it right, Mari thought.
Then there was the issue that, if Ikari wanted to ensure that no one could stand against his Evangelions, he'd have to bump off all the pilots who weren't absolutely loyal to him, which included Mari.
"Do you really think Gendo Ikari would ever do such a thing, sir?" Jessie asked.
"I can't say with confidence that he wouldn't, Lieutenant, and that's enough to worry me," Well said. "You have to understand, NERV Central is different from us here at Bethany Base. For all we're technically under the UN's command, we report to the Pentagon like any other branch of the US military, and every soldier here is loyal to America. NERV Central never talks to the Japanese military command structure unless they have to, and they shut their government out as much as possible. They get away with it because of how essential they are to the war effort, and because the Committee pulls strings. I don't have any faith that a group that operates in such a fashion won't turn rogue someday."
Silence reigned in the office, as neither Mari nor Jessie had a reply to that.
"I'm guessing you see now why I want eyes and ears inside of NERV Central so badly," Wells said after giving the two ladies a moment to digest all the information he'd given them.
"Yes, sir," Mari nodded. "I'll definitely let you know if I observe anything suspicious."
"Good," Wells said, "but don't do anything risky or foolish to get at information. The last thing anyone needs is for you to give Ikari a good excuse to throw you into a cell."
"Yes, sir," Mari said obediently.
Wells nodded. "In that case, you're dismissed," he said. "You return to your normal training schedule first thing on Monday. Until then, just take it easy and try and relax, Pilot. You're going to be very busy once we ship you to Japan."
"Understood, sir," Mari said.
Jessie wasn't happy that Mari had accepted the Commander's request to more or less spy on NERV Central. The pilot could tell that much by her guardian's silence as they drove home across the plains. Jessie still hadn't quite managed to get over her fear for Mari during the Angel battle, and adding this didn't do anything for her peace of mind.
Of course, Jessie couldn't very well chastise Mari for agreeing to do more to serve her country, so her guardian simply simmered in quiet and anger and fear.
Mari didn't try to broach the subject, knowing that there was little she could do to reassure Jessie. However, that caused the uncomfortable, unusual silence between them to stretch out for far too long.
So, all in all, Mari was very relieved when the phone rang the moment they stepped into their apartment.
"Hello?" the EVA pilot said, picking up the receiver.
"Hey, Mari, it's me," Denise's voice replied.
"Oh, hi, Denise," Mari said. "What's up?"
"It's ready," her friend said in a voice that was two parts conspiratorial and three parts giddy.
"You mean…?"
"Yeah!" Denise said excitedly. "Look, my parents went out to a movie, so you can come over right now to try it on!"
"Sweet," Mari said. "I'll be right over."
Hanging up the phone, Mari turned to Jessie. "Denise invited to spend a couple of hours over at her place," she said.
"Have fun," her guardian replied.
More than a little relieved to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere, Mari quickly left the apartment building, soon emerging out on the street. She looked around, checking to see if anyone was watching her.
Then she kicked into speed mode and the world appeared to come to an abrupt stop, and Mari jogged to Denise's place at a leisurely pace. She was soon standing right behind her friend, who, to her perceptions, stood frozen by her phone.
Mari allowed herself to return to normal. "Hi, Denise!"
The other girl jumped, then whirled around, placing a hand over her chest. "Geeze, Mari, don't do that!" she exclaimed.
"Sorry, couldn't resist," Mari replied with an impish grin. "Besides, I did say I'd be right over."
"Yeah, I guess you did," Denise grumbled.
"Okay, so, I'm here. Don't hold out on me now, Denise," Mari said eagerly. "Where is it?"
Smiling, her irritation at her friend suddenly forgotten, Denise reached into her pocket and withdrew one of the costume rings. "Here you go," she said.
Mari accepted the ring, grinning from ear to ear. "Let's try this again," she said, and pressed the little stud to open the hidden compartment.
Instantly, the costume popped out of the ring and started to grow in size. Kicking into speed mode again, Mari donned the red and gold outfit faster than a normal human could see. In a fraction of a second, she was fully clad in the costume Denise had obtained for her.
"Well," Mari said, clenching and unclenching her hands as she allowed her perceptions to return to normal, "it fits a hell of a lot better than the old one did, that's for sure. How do I look, Denise?"
"You look perfect," Denise said in a soft, almost awed tone. "The Flash is reborn."
Smiling, Mari walked to a nearby hallway where she knew a mirror was hung. She let out a low whistle as she saw her reflection.
Overall, the design of the costume hadn't been changed much from Barry Allen's. It was still mostly red with the familiar lightning bolt emblem on the chest. The boots were bright gold, as were the lightning bolt designs that looped around her waist and each of her forearms. The wing-fins were even still there.
However, the costume was a perfect fit, which by itself made a huge difference. The top of the cowl had been removed, allowing Mari's long hair to hang freely, and blue-tinted lenses were situated over the eye holes in the mask. The lenses must've been prescription, because Mari could see perfectly even though she wasn't wearing her glasses.
"It fits my bust perfectly," Mari observed with a grin, mostly to see her friend's reaction.
Denise palmed her forehead. "Are you ever going to stop marveling over how much bigger your boobs got after you accelerated your growth?" she grumbled.
"Maybe," Mari replied.
Denise sighed. "Anyway," she said, clearly eager to change the subject, "the whole costume's very resistant to heat and friction. Also, each of your wing-fins has a small device inside it. You just have to push the button hidden on the bottom to turn them on. The right one has a police scanner in it, and the other one has a two way transmitter, which connects to this."
She held up a headset she was carrying. Mari quirked an eyebrow.
"In case you ever need a little advice from your friend, the expert on the Flash," Denise explained.
"Okay," Mari said, "cool."
There was a brief moment of silence.
"All right, so you're suited up, and you know how to use your powers. Now go be the Flash," Denise said, waving a hand in a shooing motion. "Right wrongs and save some people and stuff. I want to tell Uncle Dexter that there's a new Flash in town."
"Um, yeah, about that," Mari began awkwardly, scratching the back of her head. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to debut quite yet."
"What? Why not?" Denise asked, distraught.
"I just found out today that I'm going to be heading to Japan as soon as Unit Five's repaired," Mari said. "If the Flash shows up here, then starts showing up in Tokyo-3 so soon after debuting, at the same time I got there, somebody will put the pieces together."
"So you're not going to be the Flash until you go to Tokyo-3?" Denise asked.
"That's the plan, yeah," Mari said. "Sorry, Denise."
"But you have to start in Keystone!" Denise pleaded. "It's the Flash's home!"
"Yeah, it is my home," Mari agreed. "And the fact that I'll be starting my superhero career on the other side of the Pacific doesn't change that. You're gonna have to be content with you knowing that I'm as tied to Keystone as Jay Garrick or Barry Allen, even if nobody else does."
Denise was silent for a long moment, and Mari was suddenly afraid that this would drive a wedge between her and her best friend. For the first time, she found herself wondering if it might not have been better if she'd never gotten shocked during Hutchinson's experiment.
"So you're going to be leaving for Tokyo-3 soon?" Denise asked.
Mari nodded. "Yeah, as soon as Unit Five is all fixed up," she said. "That'll take a couple of weeks, or a couple of months, at most."
"In that case, we should definitely hang out together while we still can," Denise proclaimed, giving her a friend a smile that said she still wasn't happy about Mari's decision to delay being the new Flash, but that she wouldn't hold it against her. "What do you say you change back to your normal clothes and we go get some ice cream or something?"
"I say that's a great idea," Mari replied. "I could really go for a snack right about now."
Denise just shook her head. "Really? What a shock."
Author's Notes: I have to say, I am really enjoying the hell out of writing this one. Mari's very quirky personality (Flash fans will notice that she's definitely got a bit of Impulse in her) is a ton of fun to write, and it doesn't hurt that the Flash is my favorite superhero after Green Lantern.
Anyway, to the actual notes. For those of you who were wondering, the Angel that Mari fought here was from Rebuild. My description of it might be a bit off, because that battle was short and mostly conducted in the dark, but it should be close enough. I admit I'm probably going to be lazy and find some excuse not to number it, thus keeping the numbers of all the original Angels the same.
Originally, I had planned to have Denise make Mari's costume herself, but after thinking about it I realized that was impractical, regardless of how smart Denise is. Where's the fourteen year old supposed to get all the special materials necessary to make a costume for the Flash? So I figured I could make use of the Crime Tailor, who, despite the name, actually made costumes for the Justice League of Europe once, so he is apparently not against working for the good guys, too.
By the way, my take on the "Mari the spy" bit was pretty toned down from what's probably the truth of it. Orionpax09's take on it in American Dream is almost certainly more accurate, but I really don't think Mari would make a very good spy (in Rebuild 2.0, she happens to land on Shinji after entering Japan by parachute, then she tells him not to tell NERV about her, as if her entrance wasn't already suspicious enough).
Quathis, on the issue of my choice of Wells and Vreeland for the Commanders of Mari's base, I picked them mostly because they were the only two generals from the DCAU that I remember not being complete jerks. Wells was a distrustful guy, but he was always right, so he didn't look like a dick for it, plus that works for this fic.
With Mari "filling the Flash's shoes" one thing you should keep in mind is that Denise is more invested in seeing Mari being the third Flash than Mari herself is. Mari's going along with it mostly because it sounds like fun to her, so she's not going to be that concerned with trying to emulate Barry. That said, I do intend to try and have her have some of the traits that help seperate the Flash from his fellow heroes, but bear in mind that I grew up with Wally being the Flash, and I'm already mixing his history with Barry's a bit.
Oh, and while I think Kensuke and Denise would make a pretty good pair, they're going to have the Pacific Ocean between them, so no go there.
Anyway, thanks as always to my readers and reviewers, and thanks to my beta reader as well.
Omake
Alternate Costume
"Okay, so, I'm here. Don't hold out on me now, Denise," Mari said eagerly. "Where is it?"
Smiling, her irritation at her friend suddenly forgotten, Denise reached into her pocket and withdrew one of the costume rings. "Here you go," she said.
Mari accepted the ring, grinning from ear to ear. "Let's try this again," she said, and pressed the little stud to open the hidden compartment.
Instantly, the costume popped out of the ring and started to grow in size. Kicking into speed mode again, Mari donned the outfit faster than a normal human could see. In a fraction of a second, she was fully clad in the costume Denise had obtained for her.
"Denise!" Mari exclaimed as she left speed mode. "What the hell?!"
"Uhh…" was the most articulate reply her friend could immediately come up with as she looked at Mari.
The speedster was clad in a baggy clown suit, complete with oversized shoes and a red rubber nose.
"Denise!" Mari hissed again.
The other girl finally was knocked out of her reverie. "Damn it! Gambi screwed me!"
Across the river in Central City, Paul Gambi whistled a cheerful little tune to himself as he counted the day's earnings. "I can't believe that girl didn't even check the costume I made her after she paid me three hundred bucks for it," he mused aloud.
"Oh, well this is just wonderful," Mari huffed, crossing her arms. "I can't go be a superhero in this!"
"Sorry, sorry," Denise apologized. "We'll figure something else out."
"I hope so," Mari said.
A moment of silence passed.
"Hey, Mari, can I ask you something?" Denise asked.
Mari sighed. "Sure, I guess so."
"Why did you put on the nose?"
Seeking a New Tailor
"This had better be worth it," Denise grumbled to herself as she disembarked from a bus, checking a new map she had printed from Google. "Mari will never stop bringing up the clown suit thing unless I manage to get her a real Flash costume."
A short walk brought her to the address she sought, but Denise didn't immediately proceed. Instead, she just took a second to gape at the place.
The home was the literal house on a hill, except calling it a "house" was far too modest. It was a mansion at the least, but Denise wouldn't have hesitated to call it a palace, either. The property had to be at least a full acre in size.
And the entire thing was walled. Denise stood in front of a gate, which, instead of being constructed from metal like most normal gates, was composed of multiple red laser beams that hummed menacingly. As the teenage girl watched, a fly buzzed by and flew into one of the beams.
Where it was incinerated instantly.
"What have I gotten myself into?" Denise wondered aloud.
Well, there was no turning back now. She reached out to the intercom located next to the deadly laser gate and pushed the sole button she found there.
"Who is it?" a deep male voice asked.
"Um, my name is Denise Myles," she answered. "I have an appointment."
"Yes, you're expected," the voice replied. "Come inside."
The laser beams suddenly winked out, allowing Denise entrance. The moment she walked past the gate, the lasers came back, which didn't exactly fill her with warm and fuzzy feelings.
The walk from the front gate to the mansion took her almost ten minutes, but when she got there, she found the lady of the house waiting for her.
The black haired woman was, to put it bluntly, not very attractive. But, more noticeably, she was short. Really short. Denise wasn't tall for her age, and this woman barely came up to her chest.
"Hello, darling," the woman said. "It's nice to have a visitor, even one I haven't had the pleasure of meeting before and do not know what she wants."
"Oh, well, you see—" Denise began.
"But please, we shouldn't talk business out here in this heat!" the woman said. "Come inside, darling, and then we can get down to brass tacks."
"Oh, okay," Denise replied, following the woman inside.
The interior of the mansion was, if possible, even more opulent than the exterior. All the furniture was ultra-modern and clearly very expensive. A grand piano stood in the parlor, and, to Denise's amazement, an artificial waterfall flowed down from the second floor to the first.
"Wow," she commented.
"Oh, do you like it?" the woman asked. "Yes, I have to admit that I, too, have always enjoyed my humble home. It is the sanctuary from which I can channel my inspiration and create without restrictions."
"Humble" was about the last word Denise would have used to describe the place, but she didn't think it would be tactful to say as much.
"It's extremely lovely," she said instead. "I had no idea that being a fashion designer could pay so much, but I guess you make more than average. I heard how popular your work was at that show in Paris."
"Pah!" the woman spat. "Little scraps of fabric for stick figures to strut down the catwalk in! I suppose it pays the bills, but it doesn't enflame my passion!"
"Then what—?"
"I used to design for gods, darling!" the woman continued. "Gods who walked among men, but that was back during the 'Golden Age.' There are no more gods in today's world. None like them, anyway."
"Funny you should say that—"
"But I've talked about me too much!" the woman said, whirling about to face Denise. "What have you come here for, darling? If you're hoping for an internship of some kind, I'm afraid that taking on an apprentice is quite out of the question."
"Oh, no, that's not why I'm here," Denise said, withdrawing a new sketch of the planned costume and handing it over. "I need you to make that."
The woman studied the sketch for a moment. "This isn't for you," she said, looking at Denise's chest far more pointedly than Paul Gambi had.
"Of course not!" Denise said hotly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You think she'd come here herself?"
"No need to shout, darling," the woman chastised her.
"Sorry," Denise said, "but will you do it?"
"Oh, yes, darling, it would be my pleasure," she said, grinning.
"Thank you, Miss Mode."
"Oh please, darling, call me Edna."
(A/N: I also don't own The Incredibles.)
