Static Force
Chapter 10: Distinction
Virgil leaned casually against the hospital wall, his gaze drawing his mind from the sole occupant of the room as he stared out into the city he had come to both love and protect. That same city, however, or more precisely its elected officials, had not been so gracious in returning his devotions as in a politically charged address, the mayor had labeled himself and all meta-humans for that matter, as nothing less than terrorists.
Since the public announcement nearly a week ago, Virgil had come to the slow realization that he had, quite simply, lost control of his life. Understandably, public scrutiny concerning the hard line militant stance against all Bang Babies was sharply divided with each side of the political pressure cooker voicing their own heated opinions. Virgil, however, had found the very same publicly voiced concerns expressed among his own group.
Each of his friends had taken a vastly different stance on the subject, causing more than a few heated arguments amongst them. Gear was of the belief that laying low until the situation had absolved itself was the safest and soundest strategy while Shebang, in her obstinate wisdom, believed the best course of action was simply business as usual, the police and politicians be damned. Talon, however, never missed the opportunity to repeatedly remind everyone that perhaps they now understood the degree of prejudice she had suffered at the hands of the public. On the other hand, Adam, as always, had taken an introspective approach and offered little more than silent support to the electric-powered young man. None of it helped Virgil however, as with each day he was forced to dwell upon the separate philosophies of his friends, mull their ideas about in his mind and be as lost in his own torrent thoughts as he was when he had started.
The stirring form of the elderly man in the hospital bed distracted Virgil from his thoughts as he turned his attention to the man he'd come to see.
"Well hello Sparky," Morace Grant said, a sleepy smile parting his lips as he stared unfocusedly at the teenager. For a moment Virgil wasn't sure if the old man was addressing him or suffering delusions and called him by the name of his old sidekick. Yet the answer to that question remained hidden as a deep, shuddering sigh escaped the elder's lips while he slowly shook his head. "Have a seat Virgil."
Following the instructions of the older man, Virgil found the hospital chairs to be less than comfortable, yet pulled his seat close to the bed. "How are you doing Mr. Grant?"
"Can't say I haven't been better, but I guess that's what happens when you get old." He responded, a slight chuckle emanating past his pasty lips, the gentle laugh sounding grossly out of place. Then, with a scrutinizing look, Mr. Grant studied Virgil a bit more carefully. "How are you doing hot shot?"
Virgil opened his mouth to respond 'fine' or something equally untrue, but no words came past his lips and he settled with an unconvincing shrug.
"I can imagine," Morace smiled sadly, his deep brown eyes screaming in sympathy for the teenager. "I've seen the news footage. The nurses don't like me watching much because they think I get too excited over it, but I sneak some peaks at it. Anyway, I'm a bit surprised that the mayor is so eager to label you with the same mark as those causing all the destruction. Can't be an easy thing to handle."
"No, it's not," Virgil said absently, not even paying attention to the weight of his words.
Giving another serious once over to the younger man, Morace drew himself up into a semi-sitting position. "So, what do you intend to do?"
The puzzled expression from the teenager rewarded the elderly man with a somewhat dry chuckle. The difficulties of life were never simple enough to be summed up or answered with but a few words, and that was a lesson the young hero was fast learning.
"I'm not really sure," the teen said, his eyes shifting once again to gaze out the window. "I never thought the entire city would turn against me; or...at least a good part of it anyway. It's just not simple anymore."
At this Morace laughed long and hard, his throat scratching under the strain. "Was it ever simple boy? Why did you ever don the costume in the first place?"
"Because..." the younger said, his voice trailing off in silent contemplation.
"Was it to play hero? Or to be respected by everyone, loved and honored for your greatness?"
"No, it was never about that." Virgil continued, squeezing his eyes shut as he thought to put all the uncertainty into words. "I always wanted to make a difference. But, listening to what the mayor said...about us causing as much destruction as the Meta-Breed, I kind of think she has a point."
"Sounds like you got it all figured out already...so why come to visit this tired old man?"
"Because I'm not so sure anymore Mr. Grant. Has anything like this ever happened to you?" Virgil asked, his eyes pleading with the elder hero to bestow whatever wisdom was available.
"Back in my time? No, politicians usually used the super heroes to get themselves elected. Trust was maintained within the common good to support the community. Now it's all about profit and money." Morace said sadly, taking a moment to drink a bit of water from the Styrofoam cup at his bedside table. "Though, I'm sure you didn't come all this way to ask my political views."
Staring uncertainly at the amused smile Morace wore, Virgil shook his head. "No, I wanted your advice on what I should do."
Again, the fatigue of a lifetime of decision-making filtered into every line on Morace's aged face. Closing his eyes he sighed deeply before answering. "I can't tell you that." Upon seeing the confused and somewhat disappointed expression on the teenager's face, Morace continued. "A few years ago, I saw a news conference with Superman. In it he said, 'There is right and wrong within this world, and that distinction is not difficult to make.' You have to make the distinction for yourself what is right and wrong within your own life. Of all the gifts you have, that is the only one that can never be taken away."
"But...that means we'll be hunted by the SCU," Virgil said, his forehead moving forward to lean against the edge of the bed.
"Sounds to me like you've already made your distinction," the smiling old man said, his eyes twinkling slightly. "You can't be bothered by the 'buts' and 'what ifs' of life Virgil. When you begin questioning why you're doing it, then its time to hang up the costume."
Virgil nodded his head only briefly, but it was a reaction Morace acknowledged as a larger smile crossed his face. "That reminds me, I've got something for you boy," the older man said, pointing to the coat that hung over the chair. "It's in the front pocket."
The teenager picked up the coat and hesitantly began fishing his fingers through the pockets of the other man's jacket, coming away with a long, thin disk that looked like a flattened remote control. "That's it," Morace said, smiling fondly at the memory of the device the younger man held in his hand. "What you have there is the access key to the Power Pad. It's yours now."
Virgil looked at the device before raising his eyes to address his protest, only to have his objections halted by the aged hero. "That place won't do me any good anymore. It may be a bit out-of-date, but it might work okay for a satellite base or something like that. Anyway, I'm giving it to you."
Virgil stared at smiling man, wishing he could make his mouth work long enough to express his thanks. But the glimmer from his eyes told the old man all he couldn't bring his mouth to say.
Ebon leaned casually in the chair, his weight distributing the reclining form of the seat to two legs as his propped his feet against the edge of the table before him. Stretching out the length of his body in a somewhat relaxed posture, the shadowy villain observed the unrolled paper laying at his feet, mild satisfaction crossing his face as he glared at it.
"You sure this is it Jersey?" Ebon questioned the red-skinned Bang Baby.
"That's it Ebon," the woman remarked, admiring her own work with a look of relative disinterest. "All the info extracted from Dr. Todd's head concerning the Bang Baby Formula."
"Heh...so with this, we can't make a second Big Bang? Er...no wait, third, right?" Shiv asked, his head resting on Jersey's shoulder as he leaned over the shorter Bang Baby to stare at the document she'd written.
Jersey tried to both suppress the shiver of disgust at having the twisted blade master so close to her as well as keep from punching him away from her. On the second, she failed to contain her impulse as Shiv was sent flying across the war room of the new hideout. "Idiot," she mumbled beneath her breath as she allowed the shiver to move down her body. "All we have is the formula to make it...I'm not a chemist, and likely no one else here is, so unless we have someone to make this stuff for us, it's just scribbles on the paper."
"Why not snatch Dr. Todd?" Puff asked, looking only slightly more interested in the formula than Jersey. "If he made this stuff the first time, it'd be smart to use the man who knows it better than anyone, right?"
"Unfortunately," Jersey began, "an unpleasant side effect of extracting information from a person's mind leaves that person with absolute cancellation of that memory. Even if he were to look at this formula, he could no more make it than either of us."
"Heh...that would explain why I can't find my keys," Shiv chuckled as the rest of the villains stared at him, some in disbelief while others looked ready to rip his jaw off just to keep him quiet.
"Shut the hell up Shiv, you damn moron!" Hotstreak snarled, his hands bursting in flame.
"So, what we need then is someone smart enough to make this stuff for us," Ebon responded, ignoring the scuffle that had become Hotstreak and Shiv. "Tech might've worked...but last I checked, the Night Breed all lost their powers. The only one I can think of is Gear..."
"Unless we go into Alva Industries and swipe more gas to reactivate this Tech guy," Puff said, moving her body to avoid the arms of Hotstreak as he continued to pummel the cackling maniac. "Snagging Gear would bring Static and his whole crew right to our door. I'm sure they've all got tracking devices to locate each other when someone goes missing. I think we should keep this on the down low."
"What, scared of the little light bulb and his friends?" Jersey mocked, yet before Puff could respond Ebon interrupted.
"Nah, she's right Jersey. We may out number and out power them, but his crew...no, it's better we do this without interruptions." Ebon said, his eyes closing slightly as if contemplating the plan. "Puff, you, Hotstreak, Slipstream and Onyx check out the security warehouses on the west side. If Alva's hiding any more of that gas, he'll be keeping it under lock and key and that's more than likely where it'll be found."
The bright, glaring afternoon sun glittered over Pennington Park, adding precedence to the notion that the rally that had gathered within its lush boundaries was one of principle importance. Everyone, from protesters to the casual observer could not deny that the silky voice of Edwin Alva Sr. was nothing less than hypnotic, the words themselves were scarcely important.
"As you know, our city has fallen victim to the same threat of danger as Gotham, Metropolis, New York...any city for that matter where the powerful "Meta humans" battle each other like a common street gang." Alva paused, allowing the cheers and cries of encouragement to filter from the mob of onlookers.
"We can not...will not allow that. Our city is just that...our city. It belongs to us, not the Meta humans, not the Bang Babies, but the good and honest people of Dakota. That is why the Coalition of City Reform, headed by your community and business leaders and overseen by the mayor is determined to bring this great city back to its roots..."
Maureen O'Conner had heard enough of the rambling of the formidable business man, yet as she turned to leave the assembled crowd, her eyes caught a glimpse of one of the two men standing just behind Mr. Alva, causing her to take a second look.
Residual memory of the night that had bore itself into her mind's eye came back in a wave of fear and hurt as she stared at the well built man wearing the finely tailored suit. She remembered his heavy hand against her throat, the blow of his knuckles that took the wind from her body, even the canister pressed to her mouth that brought her nightmare back to life. He stood there, a stone pillar of disinterest hidden from the crowd, yet visible in her rage and anger.
Slowly, Maureen caught her breath as heavy gulps of air entered and exited her body, the breath she now expelled coming in small clouds of frozen fury. Eyes narrowing as she stared at the man to Alva's left, Maureen slowly made her way through the crowd, paying no attention to those who backed away from the sudden chill they experienced despite the heat of the summer day.
Gear paced the length of the gas station's crowded interior, his fingers alternately massaging his temples as he listened to Static's declaration. Once the electric hero had determined that he would continue fighting crime despite the threat of retaliation by law enforcement officials, most of his allies accepted without hesitation and left to wherever they called home.
Gear however, seemed less than thrilled with the proposition and began his nervous pacing, much to the chagrin of his best friend. "Explain your logic on this again V? Because I'm really not catching it." Gear said again, twining his fingers nervously together in a failed attempt to keep his hands steady. "You're talking about war against the city V! You realize the ramifications on that?"
Static sighed slightly, shaking his head as he tried once again to convince his partner. He knew, ultimately, Gear would agree to his decisions, but he wished the genius would stop thinking with his head so much and just accept the situation. "Bro, you think I haven't thought this through? But you know darn well, Ebon and his happy little group of miscreants won't abide by the laws the city laid down. We're the only ones that can stop him Rich..."
"Yeah, well have you thought about giving the SCU a chance at the Breed?" Gear replied, trying to shake some sense into his partner. "Remember, they help Superman...dude, big blue himself."
"Yeah, and if they really did such a bang up job, why is Supes still fighting the good fight? Because the criminals won't back down bro...and neither can we."
Gear took a moment to nervously run his fingers through his hair as he opened his mouth to protest a bit more. Before he could get the words out however, the alarm on Backpack sliced through the blaring silence. "Dude, this is weird," the tech genius said, scanning the report coming in on his visual visor. "There seems to be some kind of geological event in Pennington Park."
"What, Hotstreak?"
"No, quite the opposite actually. Looks like the whole park is frozen over."
Static's eyes opened wide in memory of the similar case nearly a year ago, wondering how it was possible she could have returned. Sighing deeply while shaking his worried head, Static looked to his partner. "We need to get to the park, now!"
Permafrost had moved across the lawn in relative ease, regardless of the fact that her power had frozen the moisture within the blades of grass, casting each as nothing less than miniature, crystallized stalagmites. Already, several people lay on the ground, nursing various small puncture wounds from the frozen blades, however Permafrost refused to take her attention off the large man who had become her target.
She moved with measured, calculated steps as each motion brought her closer to her target. She would have revenge for what he did to her, made her the monster that haunted her restless dreams. Firing a blast of energy at the man, the force of impact sent him careening from the platform and colliding with a nearby tree, the energy working around his body, pinning him to the large oak tree as a blanket of ice enveloped him.
Strong as he was, the man was unable to move from his position, frozen in place by the power of the teenager. Yet she failed to notice the arrival of several SCU vehicles, the officers working to evacuate the citizens before moving forward. It was then, unaware of their arrival, that she was hit with the brunt force of the microwave energy cannon held in the hands of the officer quickly approaching.
Staggered by the attack, Permafrost fired a blind shot in the direction of her attacker, hitting another SCU officer. Panting heavily at the force of the attack, Maureen swayed drunkenly as she leaned against a nearby bench, desperately seeking to maintain her balance.
A second beam however, fired in her direction was swiftly blocked by the electrical barrier cast around her at the last moment. Everyone's attention was suddenly drawn to Static and Gear who hovered above the shaken Permafrost.
"Put your guns down," Static ordered, hoping the Special Crimes Unit would accommodate the new arrivals. His request however was quickly answered by the SCU operative firing the net launcher in his direction.
By reflex, Static summoned his power and, catching the net in mid-air, sent it back at the offensive officer, entangling him in his own weapon. Gear, likewise seeing the situation quickly deteriorate, sent several of his new self-guiding spider-tentacles into the air, each flying to a various officer, ensnaring them in the powerful metallic tendrils.
While Gear continued to occupy the SCU, Static quickly lowered himself and lifted the near unconscious Permafrost in his arms. "What happened Maureen? You should have been normal after the antidote." Static whispered while he raised himself into the air, calling to Gear to follow him as he flew towards the direction of the headquarters.
Gear did as instructed, his eyes catching the nearby news truck, the video camera pointing towards him and Static. A desperate, sinking feeling swelled within the pit of his stomach as he looked pointedly at his partner. "Dude," Gear responded, his words strained under the realization of their actions. "We've just gone rogue."
Puff floated noiselessly into the load bay of the Alva Industries Manufacturing and Industrial Distribution Center, followed closely by Hotstreak, Slipstream and Onyx, the former being as quiet as his rocky form would allow. Everyone, from political officials to the common street urchin knew this facility was nothing more than a front used to house the many military weapons Alva Industries supplied publicly to the U.S. Military. Though rumors also existed that Alva supplied other nations with these weapons as well, that, thus far was nothing more than speculated hearsay.
Thus far the operation had worked smoothly, Puff having used her power to shut down any surveillance or motion detecting equipment while Slipstream moved the other members on a cushion of air, silently transporting them to their destination. Now within the warehouse, it felt like Christmas for the four criminals, each sizing the various weapons, not guns par say, but other, more applicable tools for those who had powers.
"Guys, knock it," Puff hissed, her eyes scanning the warehouse as she uneasily bobbed between boxes on the current of air that supported her. "Ebon said we only get the gas, that's it. Leave the rest the of the stuff."
"What you so afraid of Puff, this stuff is gold," Hotstreak smirked, lifting a particularly heavy yet equally complicated device. "You know what this stuff is worth on the streets?"
"Heh, you don't even know what that stuff does," A new voice echoed throughout the cavernous facility, the silhouette shadowed by the vague light filtering in through the window.
Hotstreak however, recognized the voice immediately, his eyes narrowing to mere slits. "You!" He snarled, his hands bursting into flame as he stared down the intruder.
"And me," a second voice from the opposite wall said, the owner of the voice standing atop a row of crates. "Not to mention a few other friends of ours."
"That's right," a third voice commented, the shadowy figure mocking the four villains encircled by their trap. "When we found out there were mice in the warehouse, we came to stop 'em out!"
"Who you calling mouse you runty little hoser!" Slipstream said, a mild gust of wind whipping about the inside of the warehouse.
Puff stared in disbelief as her eyes settled on the four new arrivals that had effectively flanked herself and her teammates. Through the corner of her eye she saw Onyx shift his body. Whether in nervousness or anxiousness to start the fight, she wasn't sure, but could sympathize with the action.
"What do we do now Puff?" Onyx asked, his deep, gravely voice echoing in the nearly vacant warehouse.
"What else," the acidic Bang Baby smirked. "We throw down and teach these punks who they're dealing with!"
Edwin Alva leaned back mildly in his chair, a smug and self-satisfied grin across his wrinkled face. Despite the apparent shivering form of his employee Jacobs, the afternoon events could not have gone better. Not only had Permafrost attacked the assembly on live television, she did it while implementing Static Shock and Gear in the process.
"Are you feeling better Jacobs?" Alva asked, not truly caring about the well-being of his employee but at least expressing the courtesy to pretend he did. It amazed Alva how well the plan had worked, the tracking device planted on the frozen ice queen indicating her location. Of course, it took her longer to recognize Jacobs than he thought it would, once he knew she was among the crowd present, but the results were better than expected.
Yet even with the cold gear equipped beneath his suit, Permafrost's power still manage to give the large man a nasty cast of frostbite. Thus his current condition, huddled against the blankets, his body shaking slightly despite the warmth of the room.
Yet all imagined concerns for his employee were forced from his mind as York entered the room from the side entryway. In three graceful strides, the equally large man stood before his employer and handed him the file held in his meaty hand.
"Our team dispatched has confronted the intruders at the warehouse sir," York said, his eyes glancing at the photos present within docket. "According to thermographic scans of the warehouse, the intruders numbered four."
"Too bad," Alva said heavily as he set the pictures back into the folder. "I would have been interested to see how my team faired against Ebon's full force, but for a trial run, we should get good results."
Alva took a moment to shift his eyes back to the suffering bodyguard before turning back to York. "Of course, I wasn't expecting Static to show up today, nor was I expecting him to take Permafrost with him. York," Alva addressed the strong man before him, a greedy smile painting his aged features. "Continue to monitor the status of the battle in the warehouse. Also, activate Contingency Omni. I think we should be fully prepared for what's to come."
-To be continued
A/N: Heh heh...another chapter done, another several mysteries unveiled. Now, I've finally made mention of Alva's team...though I'm sure you can pretty much guess who's on board for it. In fact, most everyone has already picked out who was planned to be involved. So far, only one character hasn't been mentioned in reviews that will be in the team. Anyway, hope you guys liked the story...and as you can tell, it's all going to start falling apart now. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you everyone.