Chapter Seven: The Holy Assassins
The demonic monks stood on the plane at nauseating angles but did not fall off as they should have. Sky Captain bit his lower lip in bewilderment.
"This is bad. Dex, how the hell are they doing that?" He bellowed into the radio.
Back at the base, Dex followed the action from an array of monitors that displayed feedback from radio imagers mounted around the plane.
"It's the boots, Cap! They're magnetically charged, same technology we stole from Totenkopf's island. You're gonna have to go out there and pick them off!"
"Just like that, huh?" Sky Captain snapped.
"Don't worry, last week I stored a similar pair of those boots in the locker under Polly's seat. You never know, right?"
"No you don't," Sky Captain mused. "Good boy, Dex."
Polly rummaged through the hidden compartment below her feet and withdrew thick metal boots adorned with tapered rings of gleaming chromium. Sky Captain slid his feet into the magnetic boots, noting with irritation how large they were.
"A little big, Dex," he said, "Take the controls and keep her steady."
"Sorry Cap, I thought I picked some in your size," Dex replied, switching control of the Warhawk over to his remote console. "I'll hold the fort down here."
Sky Captain turned around and presented Polly his dual Colt .45s.
"What am I supposed to do with these?" Polly griped.
"Fire them," he smirked, winking mischievously. "Preferably at those bastards if they try to get in." Prying open the canopy, Sky Captain kicked his legs over the side of the cockpit and activated each boot's power supply. Rings of blue energy, pulsing out of the metal bands, rolled over the boots like flowing water. He smiled as he felt the magnetic pull him to the plane. He felt his feet slip a little in the boots, but otherwise he was secured to the hull.
The monks flanked him on all sides of the plane, eyes burning with bloodlust behind their grim, red masks.
"As much as I love company, I'm gonna have to ask you boys to leave. Now."
Silently, the marauders converged on Sky Captain, their cumbersome stampede pocking dents into the plane. The first killer hurled a power fist, crackling with malignant energy, into Sky Captain's face. The steel glove crashed into his jaw with the force of a Mack truck, knocking a volley of salty blood from his mouth. Knocked flat on his back, Sky Captain felt like he had just shaved with a lightning bolt. He shook the numbness from his head, realizing too late that the assassin was looming over him, preparing to bring his energy weapon down on Sky Captain's skull.
Sky Captain wrenched his foot up, straining against his boot's formidable magnetic pull, and lashed out at the monk, breaking his leg at the knee with a violent pop. With a few well-placed kicks to the ribcage, he sent the monk plummeting to his death.
The surviving killers stormed their prey. However, combat was a cautious, awkward matter, and the masked madmen took turns attacking. The next assailant, his granite-like fists wrapped in thickly clawed knuckledusters, took a swing at Sky Captain's throat that would have decapitated him if he hadn't side stepped it. Sky Captain tightened his grip around the brass knuckles he carried in each fist, smiling as he fell back into his Golden Gloves training. He unleashed a furious storm of blows into the assassin, unaware of the other killer creeping in.
The other monk launched a devastating roundhouse kick to Sky Captain's temple, nearly snapping his neck. Caught off guard, Sky Captain slipped in his boots before being flung off the plane! Polly watched Sky Captain tumble through the pale, blue sky, helpless as the masked assassins closed in for the kill...
Stay tuned for Chapter Eight: The Best Laid Plans