Questions Ch. 4
Thanks a lot to every one for their feedback. I especially appreciate Aisy's honesty, but I feel like I should share my standpoint here too. I respect Laura's character and personally see no reason to dislike her. It seemed like she was an independent and capable girl who was placed in a situation that she couldn't control. I respect Rachel in a different way and also interpret her personality differently. But that's just my opinion and everyone has their own. And also the Batman references... they're not really the crux of the story and I was planning on just using them sparingly for emphasis and effect. (but it's nice to know you've taken a liking to them ^_^ )
Additional note. Rachel's part is coming up. But the story is not quite ready for her right now.
***Max***
"Yeeeehaawwww!" I whooped out of the sheer exhilaration of the moment.
The tires screamed and tore through the sandy ground, raising a cloud of dust with the flamboyance that a party magician might be capable of while raising curtains for his grand finale.
Fitting, since this seems to be the grand finale of my mission.
The scope of my vision focused in on my target. Psycho was no more than half a mile away, trying to board the helicopter with the power core in his hands. It's just like him to run with the loot after he loses a fight.
"Max?" Berto sounded panicked over the Bio-link.
"Yeah, yeah. The Crystalline power core. I've got it in my sights." I replied hastily as I gunned the accelerator on the Shadow, pushing the blue convertible up one gear, and creating a small-scale sand storm around it and about me. That action rewarded me with a mouthful of Libyan Desert sand. Smiley is not escaping that easily.
Suddenly an explosion from the government compound behind me overshadowed the roar of the Shadow's engine. I didn't look back.
"Berto?"
"Kat's okay. She got out."
That a girl. I can always count on her to take care of herself.
"Berto, what about the..."
"All hostages are safe and accounted for. Kat just did a head count."
Can always count on her to take care of others too.
I gritted my teeth together when I saw the chopper take off in the distance. Standing on the landing gear and leaning outward was Psycho, with the blue, glinting power core in his metal left hand and a maniacal smirk on his metal plate of a face. You are NOT getting away with that core.
"No way you can catch that flight by now, hermano."
"Yes, Berto," I snapped. "I realize I can't jump 90 feet into the air! Can you get the Hawk jet here fast enough?"
"Not enough time."
This was one of those moments where desperation and long hours of studying Batmanism joined efforts. The offspring: an idea.
I judged my horizontal distance from chopper's position in the air.
"Close enough."
"Huh? Max, close enough for what?"
My foot smashed into the brakes and the Shadow swerved to a halt amidst a gritty swirl of grit and sand. I hopped out of the car.
"Max? What are you doing?"
Through the Bio-link I could hear Berto screaming himself into a conniption as I tore out the hubcap from one of Shadow's wheels. I checked round the titanium disk in my hand. It'll have to do.
"Max! Those car parts were custom-made! They're hard to..."
Needless to say, I ignored Berto. "Going Turbo!" The familiar surge of transphasik power flowed through my limbs when I kicked it into high gear.
I cocked my arm back, took two side steps to minimize inertia, and then hurled the hubcap at my target much in the fashion of a discus thrower. Enough torque was imparted on it to send the edge spinning like a saw disk.
"Max, if that core shatters..."
"I know," I replied as I made a mad dash toward the ground underneath the chopper. "It breaks, I fry. So better not let it break."
The hubcap flew fast enough, flew hard enough, and flew true to my aim. Its titanium edge sliced through Psycho's left arm, severing the weaker metal right at his wrist. He was too surprised to catch it with his organic hand and the power core simply plummeted toward the ground.
It dropped safely into my arms, with Psycho's metal hand still clutching it. An added bonus. I couldn't reframe from snickering while I pried the hand off.
"You missing something?" I yelled up at him.
Sharp shouts and furious gestures came from the figure in the helicopter in the sky. "Steel! You idiot!!"
Yeah, Psycho's really ticked off this time. Maybe this will motivate him to fight harder next time.
"And Steel makes the catch," I announced in a sports caster's voice. "Amazing catch!!! Ladies and gentleman, let's give Steel a HAND!" I cupped my hands like a megaphone and mimicked a cheering crowd.
Then I swayed into the rhythmic steps of my victory dance, feeling more than a little pleased with the little souvenir I took.
While Psycho was still at a distance to clearly see me, I waved bye bye to him.
I waved to him using his own hand.
***Berto***
I shuffled over to the side control panel and set the Hawk jet on autopilot to bring Max and Kat home. When I turned the swivel chair back toward the monitor, I sighed in exasperation.
"You're a sick man, Steel."
I can't believe he was still waving that metal hand around.
"Berto's right," I heard Kat's voice over the Bio-link.
"Awww, come on," Max quipped, "you're just jealous because you didn't get to do it first."
Kat was silent for a moment, then let slip her piqued interest with a chuckle. "Can I get a closer look at that?"
Max tossed her the hand. "Just be careful with it. I think I have a good place for it in my dorm room..."
I shut down the Bio-link. They're not the two most mature agents at N-Tek - no one dare try to dispute that - but they get the job done and get it done well. (Even when it involves disfiguring the custom-designed Shadow. To think Marshak just touched up the paint job before the mission.) But I admit, I even enjoy their antics every now and then. Hey, I'm stuck doing behind-the-monitor work all day, I take any sort of entertainment I can get.
When I turned around, I saw Jefferson Smith standing there with a case folder in hand. A visit from the boss usually meant another new assignment.
"Sir, Max and Kat are on their way back to headquarters."
He nodded. "Successful?"
"Yes, they've retrieved the Crystalline power core."
"Have it sent over to Yoshenko's lab for analysis before returning it to D.C. I want to make sure core's still stable."
"Yes sir."
I watched him pull out one of the swivel chair and sit down wearily.
There is no one else in N-Tek that I admire more. Jeff puts up with a lot. Just having survived being Josh's stepfather for 15 years is achievement enough.
He also keeps N-Tek running like a well-oiled machine. And in this machine, Max Steel might be the shiny gear that glimmers and catches most of the attention, but Jeff is the fuel that courses through the engine, burning himself out just to maintain his ideals.
Surprisingly, he doesn't have a single gray hair to show for all his stress and anxiety. Jeff maintained his calm, collected self when his adopted son insisted on becoming an agent, and even when one of his most trusted friends proved to be an infiltrator for John Dread.
As he sat in the chair facing me, I realized he looked tired. Not defeat, just fatigued. Seems like he's seen too much of the underground world and he's spent too much energy fighting it.
"Berto," he handed me the folder in his hand. "I apologize for the short notice, but Vitriol's been on the move lately."
"Vitriol?" I thumbed the edge of the manila folder before flipping the cover open.
"I'd like Team Steel to pick up his trail and bring him in. Right now he's quite active in..."
"Russia?" I finished the sentence when I spotted the map in the folder. Vitriol's plotted movements showed him hopping from the more commercialized Western area into the central region of Siberia.
My stomach tied into a knot as the realization came to me.
Siberia.
"So we'll be working with N-Tek agents stationed at Novosibirsk?" I asked.
"Yes," Jeff replied and got to his feet. "They were the division that requested aid from a backup team. I'll need to contact them about your departure."
"No sir," I voiced before he could turn to leave. Once I got his attention, I found difficulty trying to say what I need to say. "Sir, I don't think this task is very well suited for Team Steel."
He fixed a look of scrutiny on me. "Dr. Martinez," he asked candidly, "are you declining this mission?"
I couldn't read his reaction from his face.
"Sir, all I mean to say is..."
"Does this have to do with Rachel Leed's presence at Novosibirsk?" The man looked down at me. Well, he just sank my boat with that question. "This seems very unprofessional of you, Berto."
"With all due respect sir. There *will* be tension and trouble if Max and Rachel have to work together at this point. I submit that it would jeopardize N-Tek operation."
I stood my ground as he reconsidered. Okay, so I got caught interfering with Max's life again. However, this is a bad time for Max to have to deal with Rachel. With Laura suddenly back in town, things are complicated enough already. It wouldn't be fair to Rachel either if she had to get tangled up with the situation now. Maybe in another two months things would be resolved, but until then I'm only looking out for my hermano when I try to keep them apart.
Jefferson gestured for the file in my hands. I handed it to him.
"Berto, I usually frown on this. But I've taken your argument into consideration. I'll have this case reassigned."
Then he left.
I sat in the silent lab for a moment, then rolled my chair over to the controls and switched on the Bio-link.
In the monitor, I saw Max trying to manipulate the fingers of the metal hand, attempting to make it appear to dance.
"Dada-da-dun, dada-da-dun. Dada-da-dun-dada-da-dun." he sang to the tune of Adam's Family. In the background, I recognized Kat was providing the accompanying percussion part of snapping her fingers. "Look," Max chuckled, "It's that walking hand thing from the Adam's Family!"
He's having way too much fun with this.
I sighed and turned the monitor off.
Max is older than me. We are both aware of that. But our roles seem to be reversed. He's the wild and crazy one. I'm the one who watches over him and tries to take care of him.
So yeah, I make decision calls on his behalf sometimes. But I don't do it for my health; I do it for his.
I guess he's my hermanito.
***Jefferson Smith***
Can you be the head of an international anti-terrorist organization and command a wide network of secret agents all across the globe, but still have no idea what is going on in your own son's life?
Yes. Yes. Most regrettably, yes.
I would not say Josh and I were ever terribly close. By the time his father passed away and I adopted him as my own, he was old enough to be fairly independent from me.
Granted, he was only 4, but Josh's self-willed and self-governing streak started early and still shows no sign of wearing off. And as much as it injured my pride to admit it, he did not really seem to need me as a father figure.
He never came to me with his problems. He never asked me to help him with his difficulties. He never sought my wisdom on his dilemmas.
I watched him grow, proud at his progress, but pained by his distance from me.
Josh has always respected me though, even through his most belligerent teenage years. And now our relationship is largely employer-employee based.
Like I said, Josh doesn't tell me much about his life or his relationships. I was one of the last ones to find out about his break up with Laura. It was a shock. The last time I saw them together, they looked very happy. It was another surprise when Rachel Leeds marched into my office and demanded a transfer from Team Steel. As you would have it, I didn't find out the relationship strife between Josh and her until three weeks later.
At some level, I am grateful to Berto for reminding me of the history between the two. Very frankly, the facts either slipped my mind or I simply didn't perceive it as a problem.
My son... He's much closer to Berto than he is to me. I suppose I can be glad that there is someone I can refer to if I ever needed to know anything about Josh. Berto is a good boy.
I truly do view Josh as my son.
I am right here for you, Josh. I am ready to learn more about you.
When will you realize that I am just waiting for you to turn to me?
Thanks a lot to every one for their feedback. I especially appreciate Aisy's honesty, but I feel like I should share my standpoint here too. I respect Laura's character and personally see no reason to dislike her. It seemed like she was an independent and capable girl who was placed in a situation that she couldn't control. I respect Rachel in a different way and also interpret her personality differently. But that's just my opinion and everyone has their own. And also the Batman references... they're not really the crux of the story and I was planning on just using them sparingly for emphasis and effect. (but it's nice to know you've taken a liking to them ^_^ )
Additional note. Rachel's part is coming up. But the story is not quite ready for her right now.
***Max***
"Yeeeehaawwww!" I whooped out of the sheer exhilaration of the moment.
The tires screamed and tore through the sandy ground, raising a cloud of dust with the flamboyance that a party magician might be capable of while raising curtains for his grand finale.
Fitting, since this seems to be the grand finale of my mission.
The scope of my vision focused in on my target. Psycho was no more than half a mile away, trying to board the helicopter with the power core in his hands. It's just like him to run with the loot after he loses a fight.
"Max?" Berto sounded panicked over the Bio-link.
"Yeah, yeah. The Crystalline power core. I've got it in my sights." I replied hastily as I gunned the accelerator on the Shadow, pushing the blue convertible up one gear, and creating a small-scale sand storm around it and about me. That action rewarded me with a mouthful of Libyan Desert sand. Smiley is not escaping that easily.
Suddenly an explosion from the government compound behind me overshadowed the roar of the Shadow's engine. I didn't look back.
"Berto?"
"Kat's okay. She got out."
That a girl. I can always count on her to take care of herself.
"Berto, what about the..."
"All hostages are safe and accounted for. Kat just did a head count."
Can always count on her to take care of others too.
I gritted my teeth together when I saw the chopper take off in the distance. Standing on the landing gear and leaning outward was Psycho, with the blue, glinting power core in his metal left hand and a maniacal smirk on his metal plate of a face. You are NOT getting away with that core.
"No way you can catch that flight by now, hermano."
"Yes, Berto," I snapped. "I realize I can't jump 90 feet into the air! Can you get the Hawk jet here fast enough?"
"Not enough time."
This was one of those moments where desperation and long hours of studying Batmanism joined efforts. The offspring: an idea.
I judged my horizontal distance from chopper's position in the air.
"Close enough."
"Huh? Max, close enough for what?"
My foot smashed into the brakes and the Shadow swerved to a halt amidst a gritty swirl of grit and sand. I hopped out of the car.
"Max? What are you doing?"
Through the Bio-link I could hear Berto screaming himself into a conniption as I tore out the hubcap from one of Shadow's wheels. I checked round the titanium disk in my hand. It'll have to do.
"Max! Those car parts were custom-made! They're hard to..."
Needless to say, I ignored Berto. "Going Turbo!" The familiar surge of transphasik power flowed through my limbs when I kicked it into high gear.
I cocked my arm back, took two side steps to minimize inertia, and then hurled the hubcap at my target much in the fashion of a discus thrower. Enough torque was imparted on it to send the edge spinning like a saw disk.
"Max, if that core shatters..."
"I know," I replied as I made a mad dash toward the ground underneath the chopper. "It breaks, I fry. So better not let it break."
The hubcap flew fast enough, flew hard enough, and flew true to my aim. Its titanium edge sliced through Psycho's left arm, severing the weaker metal right at his wrist. He was too surprised to catch it with his organic hand and the power core simply plummeted toward the ground.
It dropped safely into my arms, with Psycho's metal hand still clutching it. An added bonus. I couldn't reframe from snickering while I pried the hand off.
"You missing something?" I yelled up at him.
Sharp shouts and furious gestures came from the figure in the helicopter in the sky. "Steel! You idiot!!"
Yeah, Psycho's really ticked off this time. Maybe this will motivate him to fight harder next time.
"And Steel makes the catch," I announced in a sports caster's voice. "Amazing catch!!! Ladies and gentleman, let's give Steel a HAND!" I cupped my hands like a megaphone and mimicked a cheering crowd.
Then I swayed into the rhythmic steps of my victory dance, feeling more than a little pleased with the little souvenir I took.
While Psycho was still at a distance to clearly see me, I waved bye bye to him.
I waved to him using his own hand.
***Berto***
I shuffled over to the side control panel and set the Hawk jet on autopilot to bring Max and Kat home. When I turned the swivel chair back toward the monitor, I sighed in exasperation.
"You're a sick man, Steel."
I can't believe he was still waving that metal hand around.
"Berto's right," I heard Kat's voice over the Bio-link.
"Awww, come on," Max quipped, "you're just jealous because you didn't get to do it first."
Kat was silent for a moment, then let slip her piqued interest with a chuckle. "Can I get a closer look at that?"
Max tossed her the hand. "Just be careful with it. I think I have a good place for it in my dorm room..."
I shut down the Bio-link. They're not the two most mature agents at N-Tek - no one dare try to dispute that - but they get the job done and get it done well. (Even when it involves disfiguring the custom-designed Shadow. To think Marshak just touched up the paint job before the mission.) But I admit, I even enjoy their antics every now and then. Hey, I'm stuck doing behind-the-monitor work all day, I take any sort of entertainment I can get.
When I turned around, I saw Jefferson Smith standing there with a case folder in hand. A visit from the boss usually meant another new assignment.
"Sir, Max and Kat are on their way back to headquarters."
He nodded. "Successful?"
"Yes, they've retrieved the Crystalline power core."
"Have it sent over to Yoshenko's lab for analysis before returning it to D.C. I want to make sure core's still stable."
"Yes sir."
I watched him pull out one of the swivel chair and sit down wearily.
There is no one else in N-Tek that I admire more. Jeff puts up with a lot. Just having survived being Josh's stepfather for 15 years is achievement enough.
He also keeps N-Tek running like a well-oiled machine. And in this machine, Max Steel might be the shiny gear that glimmers and catches most of the attention, but Jeff is the fuel that courses through the engine, burning himself out just to maintain his ideals.
Surprisingly, he doesn't have a single gray hair to show for all his stress and anxiety. Jeff maintained his calm, collected self when his adopted son insisted on becoming an agent, and even when one of his most trusted friends proved to be an infiltrator for John Dread.
As he sat in the chair facing me, I realized he looked tired. Not defeat, just fatigued. Seems like he's seen too much of the underground world and he's spent too much energy fighting it.
"Berto," he handed me the folder in his hand. "I apologize for the short notice, but Vitriol's been on the move lately."
"Vitriol?" I thumbed the edge of the manila folder before flipping the cover open.
"I'd like Team Steel to pick up his trail and bring him in. Right now he's quite active in..."
"Russia?" I finished the sentence when I spotted the map in the folder. Vitriol's plotted movements showed him hopping from the more commercialized Western area into the central region of Siberia.
My stomach tied into a knot as the realization came to me.
Siberia.
"So we'll be working with N-Tek agents stationed at Novosibirsk?" I asked.
"Yes," Jeff replied and got to his feet. "They were the division that requested aid from a backup team. I'll need to contact them about your departure."
"No sir," I voiced before he could turn to leave. Once I got his attention, I found difficulty trying to say what I need to say. "Sir, I don't think this task is very well suited for Team Steel."
He fixed a look of scrutiny on me. "Dr. Martinez," he asked candidly, "are you declining this mission?"
I couldn't read his reaction from his face.
"Sir, all I mean to say is..."
"Does this have to do with Rachel Leed's presence at Novosibirsk?" The man looked down at me. Well, he just sank my boat with that question. "This seems very unprofessional of you, Berto."
"With all due respect sir. There *will* be tension and trouble if Max and Rachel have to work together at this point. I submit that it would jeopardize N-Tek operation."
I stood my ground as he reconsidered. Okay, so I got caught interfering with Max's life again. However, this is a bad time for Max to have to deal with Rachel. With Laura suddenly back in town, things are complicated enough already. It wouldn't be fair to Rachel either if she had to get tangled up with the situation now. Maybe in another two months things would be resolved, but until then I'm only looking out for my hermano when I try to keep them apart.
Jefferson gestured for the file in my hands. I handed it to him.
"Berto, I usually frown on this. But I've taken your argument into consideration. I'll have this case reassigned."
Then he left.
I sat in the silent lab for a moment, then rolled my chair over to the controls and switched on the Bio-link.
In the monitor, I saw Max trying to manipulate the fingers of the metal hand, attempting to make it appear to dance.
"Dada-da-dun, dada-da-dun. Dada-da-dun-dada-da-dun." he sang to the tune of Adam's Family. In the background, I recognized Kat was providing the accompanying percussion part of snapping her fingers. "Look," Max chuckled, "It's that walking hand thing from the Adam's Family!"
He's having way too much fun with this.
I sighed and turned the monitor off.
Max is older than me. We are both aware of that. But our roles seem to be reversed. He's the wild and crazy one. I'm the one who watches over him and tries to take care of him.
So yeah, I make decision calls on his behalf sometimes. But I don't do it for my health; I do it for his.
I guess he's my hermanito.
***Jefferson Smith***
Can you be the head of an international anti-terrorist organization and command a wide network of secret agents all across the globe, but still have no idea what is going on in your own son's life?
Yes. Yes. Most regrettably, yes.
I would not say Josh and I were ever terribly close. By the time his father passed away and I adopted him as my own, he was old enough to be fairly independent from me.
Granted, he was only 4, but Josh's self-willed and self-governing streak started early and still shows no sign of wearing off. And as much as it injured my pride to admit it, he did not really seem to need me as a father figure.
He never came to me with his problems. He never asked me to help him with his difficulties. He never sought my wisdom on his dilemmas.
I watched him grow, proud at his progress, but pained by his distance from me.
Josh has always respected me though, even through his most belligerent teenage years. And now our relationship is largely employer-employee based.
Like I said, Josh doesn't tell me much about his life or his relationships. I was one of the last ones to find out about his break up with Laura. It was a shock. The last time I saw them together, they looked very happy. It was another surprise when Rachel Leeds marched into my office and demanded a transfer from Team Steel. As you would have it, I didn't find out the relationship strife between Josh and her until three weeks later.
At some level, I am grateful to Berto for reminding me of the history between the two. Very frankly, the facts either slipped my mind or I simply didn't perceive it as a problem.
My son... He's much closer to Berto than he is to me. I suppose I can be glad that there is someone I can refer to if I ever needed to know anything about Josh. Berto is a good boy.
I truly do view Josh as my son.
I am right here for you, Josh. I am ready to learn more about you.
When will you realize that I am just waiting for you to turn to me?