Another week passed, then another, and it was two weeks till Henrietta had to up the ante for her preparation for finals. Being the ever faithful boyfriend Red X was, he offered his moral support and gave her the space she needed to work with her study partner. Her partner was some blue-eyed blondie, not a guy, so X felt pretty sure no respectable teenage boy was going to try to steal his girl. In any case, the reprieve from his loving relationship allowed X to spend some quality time with Spike.
"So you're free tonight?" Spike had asked as he and X, in civvies, played a short game of cards. X shrugged in response.
"Yeah. Any jobs available? Been too busy to check out the market."
"Not really. The Brotherhood's upping their activities, so most of our usual costumers are taking a raincheck until things calm down. Can't risk accidentally pissing off big-name villains with a war coming soon."
"I assume you're speaking from experience," X prodded, "considering your employment history."
Instead of some form of physical retribution that X had expected, Spike said, "Keep taking jabs at your personal mechanic, who knows, maybe some hobos will find a bike to scrap at the junkyard."
X tensed. "Spike, please, we've been working on my own ride for three months. Get rid of it, three months of wasted effort."
"I couldn't care less about it. It's your pet project, remember? Besides, don't you already have a motorcycle?"
"Spike, that's for my off-hours. Red X needs his own set of wheels." X placed his cards down. "Speaking of bikes, did you find the last part for it?"
"Actually, yeah." Spike reached into his pocket and took out his phone. After fiddling with it, he showed X the screen. There was a picture of a blue microchip. "This is the last component we need, a little something to help with the autopilot."
"Autopilot? This isn't the Batmobile we're making. It's just a motorbike."
"It'll be useful. You'll thank me for it later." Spike threw the phone at X's hands. "Microchip's at a research laboratory, downtown. Lightly armored guards, mediocre security, so it should be a decent thrill for you."
"Sounds like it," Red X agreed, grabbing his utility belt he had left strewn on the table. "I'll be back before midnight. Ciao." Spike snorted at his dramatic exit, deciding to flip around his cards briefly as he waited for the kid to return.
A bell jingled, prompting Spike to look up at the bar's front door. What he saw ruined his fairly good mood.
"Joe Maggio," the woman greeted as she and her companion showed their badges. "I'm Detective Ellen Yin, and this is Detective Ethan Bennet. We have a few questions for you."
X
H.I.V.E. Tower…
"I got a bead on him!" Gizmo shouted in excitement. While the Billy clones fell over a pyramid of cards, Mammoth spat out his soda over the lower half of the television screen. "Someone go get Jinx!"
See-More gave her a call on his communicator as Gizmo plastered his fingers on the computer's keyboards.
Eventually, Jinx and Kyd Wykkyd entered the living room. They were out of their usual uniforms, instead in their sparing gear, wet with sweat. See-More quickly averted his gaze and focused solely on the screen Gizmo set to display camera feed from one of his drones. It was tracking Red X as a he ran freely across city rooftops.
"Where's he going?" Mammoth asked as he ate from his bag of chips, the H.I.V.E. Five gathering around Gizmo.
Red X soon landed on the rooftop of one nondescript building, entering through a skylight.
"Darn crook's probably doing a heist," a Billy speculated. "What's the plan, boss lady?"
She only took one gulp of fresh bottled water before a sadistic smile enriched her face.
X
Night…
"Sorry pal," Red X apologized to an unconscious guard he had glued against the wall, "them's the breaks."
X strolled down the short corridor, coming to a door that was easily overcome by a quick teleportation. Inside, there were rows upon rows of cabinets, something you'd find in a bank vault.
The thief checked Spike's phone, matching the set of numbers displayed with the row of digits screwed against one drawer. Inside was a pile of microchips.
So many chips, so much cash to be earned, X mused. He only needed one for his new bike, but what the hell? Spike should probably know who to sell some experimental tech to. X stuffed as many as he could in the empty compartments in his belt. Thank you, GothCorp.
Red X made his way the top floor, humming silently as he was getting ready to hop out of the skylight.
Reaching the rooftop, X was suddenly picked up and thrown toward the horizon. He obligatorily yelped, barely catching himself from a bad fall on another rooftop.
"Thought you kids learned your lesson," X crowed out as he got into a hunched stance, seeing the telltale pink energy and red costumes.
He expected some droll comebacks, but the rascals immediately went ahead to try to kill him. The Billys came at him, almost shoving each other in their attempt to beat X senseless. Jinx made a few cracks on the ground, nothing X couldn't handle if he paid attention. Making sure he didn't trip became harder and harder, though, as she made the roof shake abruptly or when she joined in pummeling X. Kyd Wykkyd spawning and despawning to put in a cheap punch wasn't helping matters either.
Getting smarter, or at least a little more professional. Straight to the punches.
X could hear Mammoth leaping over to the fracas. While brawling with multiple opponents wasn't something X was unexperienced with, a big guy like Mammoth would make things even more difficult. So, he teleported a good deal away from the blast radius. When he rematerialized, Red X was pleased to see almost half of the Billy clones groaning and rolling on the ground, the brute scratching his head with a sheepish look.
After dodging another attack, X began to teleport sporadically, appearing and disappearing in intervals that let him disable more of the remaining clones, systematically. All it took was knocking a Billy's teeth out by smashing his head against the ground or against a fellow duplicate.
Jinx and Wykkyd, damn, they sure were trying their hardest to get their hits in. X kept seeing a flash of pink as he bashed a Billy, or a black colored swirl one step behind him. Mammoth was basically just waving his arms around, but he failed to accidentally hit his teammates to X's minor disappointment.
The H.U.D. displayed through Red X's mask alerted him that his battery charge was draining faster than expected. There were only a couple of Billys left, so X gave a final teleport. He landed over Mammoth, his feet planting themselves on the giant's shoulders. There was just enough power to plaster an X onto the animalistic crook's back that pulsated enough energy to char his hair and thrust him to the streets below. The rest of the clones got caught in the animal's tumble and his fall down.
The professional heister didn't get a chance to crack a joke as the vicious assault continued. The kiddies definitely were going for the gold today.
"What's got you boys and girls so aggro tonight?"
They didn't answer. All Jinx and Kyd did was punch and kick and dodge, and Red X could really only respond to the attacks. His battery was at around thirty-five percent, not quite enough for combat and an elegant escape. It became a stalemate as neither X or the H.I.V.E. kids were able to gain the upper hand. The latter's frustration was more evident on their perspiring, drenched faces. At least X knew when to breathe during a fight.
Finally, after who knows or cares how long, the vigorous duo backed off, panting a few meters away from a Red X whose battery power recharged to forty-percent, at least for short-term use. The three were the only ones left standing.
"Where's your newfangled Polyphemus?" X asked, cracking his neck. Some banter would help stall for some recharge time. "Ain't nobody's going to hurt him if he comes out to play. And the Bizzaro Dexter? He stuck in his laboratory?"
Kyd gave a look. It said, Shut up, please.
Miss Fortune glared, the same kind of glare that people gave X whenever he tried to play the fool in an otherwise serious situation.
"You should have killed See-More when you had the chance," Jinx said coolly. "He'll be the one that's going to personally carve you up."
"After you've had your way with me, I'm sure," X gauged. He used a wrist blade to tap the sides of his mask. "You want a little payback, don't you Miss Fortune? Slice up my pretty face like I nicked yours?"
She gurgled a chuckle, her frown turning a one-eighty. "Yeah, you're going to be very pretty when I draw two pink Xs right inside your eyeballs. Bet you'll look real charming then."
"What? Is my natural charisma not obvious with how I am right now?"
Jinx sighed despairingly while Kyd continued to take in deep, silent breathes, just as Red X was doing.
X went along with his normal shtick of wisecracks and smartass-ery. His non-mute opponent went along with it. It was practically a routine at this point with him and the Five. Someone tries to rob something, then Red X kicks that someone's ass.
It was getting a little dull.
Right at fifty percent, X teleported to evade the torrent of energy that was suddenly fired at him. He stepped behind Jinx, planted an X on her backside, and watched her fire off the roof the same way as Mammoth did. Kyd tried to surprise X, but he could see the mute boy coming a mile away. Once he was close enough, X quickly flung him over after his fellow criminals.
Jinx suddenly blindsided him, reappearing with a flash purple lightning. X clutched the side of his injured face, rolling across the roof. Lying with his stomach facing the night sky, Jinx tackled him. She pulled out a knife. Red X struggled with his arms to block the blade, inches away from his throat.
"How are you so good?!" Jinx screamed.
Jesus, Miss Fortune's crazier than I thought. She had bloodshot-like eyes, strained pink veins where the red was supposed to be.
"You keep beating us, again and again! Where the hell did you learn how to do all this?"
The subtle strength enhancers in the Red X suit were starting to wane. Jinx had both her hands pushing the handle of her knife down, her nemesis only just keeping it at bay.
"I didn't go through seven years in the H.I.V.E. Academy just to be humiliated by a jackass in a suit that isn't even his!"
X used one hand to hold Jinx's neck. He made her look closer into the expressionless eyes of his skull mask. With the precarious circumstances given, Red X couldn't exactly do a head butt, but he could try to psyche Jinx up a little more.
"We've got something in common, y'know," X wriggled underneath her. "You and I, we're both not-up-to-snuff bastards out to prove ourselves to the world. At least, I learned a long time ago that the world doesn't give a single fuck about what you have to prove."
Red X wrapped both his hands over Jinx's, vying for more control over the blade.
"I know that you want to be something big; a Charles Manson psychotic that people will be begging for mercy, probably, or maybe the next Joan of Arc type ready to rule the world."
Jinx oh so wanted to draw some blood. "How the heck would you know anything about me?"
"I know a lot more 'bout you than you'll ever know about me."
The knife's pointed edge began to reach closer to X's Adam's apple. Their faces were even closer now, perfect for Red X's whispers to be heard.
"But here's a little fun fact about me, Miss Fortune," X said. "I tried to go big, I really tried, but the world just spat me back out like I was nothing. That's why I work small, do some big jobs, and then stay small. You get too big, well –"
X redirected the blade to stab into his shoulder. Jinx churned it around, feeling the cracks in the bone it was making.
"– you die a rotten, dirty death. You let the world eat you up, or you get off your ass and back on your feet."
Finally, X bashed his head against hers, knocking her out and turning off all of the light energy she was emitting.
He kept the knife as he limped his way home. It wouldn't help if the Five or the cops got any blood samples of him. Besides, he gave enough advice to Jinx as it was.
She better be ready next time. Otherwise, it'll only get bloodier.
X
Once he was out of his suit, X injected himself with a little blue serum Spike kept under his bed. It was in their secret stash of meds if their usual off-the-record doctors weren't available, or if X was just too lazy to go out of his way to find one. The latter was X's current reasoning. The arm would be sore for a week, but X could live with that.
After stashing all his loot, X made his way downstairs to the bar. Something was off, though. Spike should have been in relaxing at a booth, watching the late night news. However, the man was pacing back and forth when X arrived.
Spike instantly faced his protégé. Beads of sweat stained his temple. He was nervous about something, very nervous.
"Kid, we've got problems," he said, then paused. "Your eye –"
"I'll get to it later," X insisted, cringing brusquely. "What kind of problems?"
Snatching a spare rag in Spike's pocket, he tossed it to X. "It's those cops you talked about," he continued his pace, "the ones from out of town. They came here, not long after you left."
What? Shit. "What did they want?"
"Just information." Spike took out another rag hanging from a side pocket and wiped away some sweat. "They wanted some first-hand info on Jump's crime. I didn't want any trouble, so I went along with them. It went smooth, real smooth, but guess what?"
He slammed a series of pieces of paper down onto a table.
"They've got dirt on me." Spike slide the paper to X.
It was a file on Spike, with a head shot, full name, and other information. It was obviously a photocopy, everything black and white and some of the ink faded. There was a bulleted list, cataloging off all the dirty little things Spike had done throughout his criminal career.
Spike has a miniature globe standing over the bottles behind the bar. It was an old fashioned one with brownish, yellowish colors. Some of the paint was chipped off, and the rotating mechanism jammed itself whenever X tried to play with it.
There was a signature across the Pacific Ocean, in red. Spike claimed it was blood. When X didn't believe him, Spike took out an antiquated photo album. The old mechanic was actually a skinny guy back in the day.
He told X about how he was a thief himself, though not equipped with Xenothium. The whole business back then took more wit and charm then Red X really needed. During the course of Spike's thieving routine, Spike had to talk fast, improvise lines, and move as fast as lighting to get the goods his clients wanted. From the smiles Spike gave, it must have been a satisfying job, complimented with its alluring perks, of course.
His boss awarded him the small globe, as a token of friendship. He made a cut in his hand and used his own blood to sign his name. It was meant to symbolize the blood, sweat, and tears put into all their hard work.
The next day, Spike found out his boss was gunned down by French mobsters. Spike had to go into hiding as his twentieth century thieves' guild was being hunted down.
And all that history was dumbed down to a simple "supplying arms to terrorists" and "conspiracy against the state" on the list.
X set the paper down and watched Spike take a seat with a contemplative expression. "Did they threaten you?"
"Not outright. They spoke with the police chief, so they know how I operate, who I am now. They just wanted extra leverage if they need an informant, but what they have on me," Spike shook his head vehemently, "at the best, I can be in jail for decades."
Sitting across Spike, X frowned as his head went in circles searching for an answer. "What were they like, those detectives?"
"That Bennet guy played good cop," Spike shrugged. "Yin played bad cop, but they were nothing but civil. They know how to keep their cool, know respect."
"So that makes them more dangerous," X concluded.
"And unpredictable, if shit goes down between us."
Spike wearily puffed out a breath of air. X was expecting a "I'm getting too old for this shit," but he instead tossed X a set of keys.
"Those are for your bike," Spike said. "Get your stuff and head out. It won't help any of us if those cops manage to get a warrant to search the Corner and the apartment. We'll need our distance."
Reluctantly, X nodded. "Alright." He got up to leave. Spike rose as well, closing the distance with X and placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Watch yourself, kid. Those other 'kids' you've been playing around are one thing. These cops are another."
"I know. I get it." X patted Spike's arm before turning away. "I'll be seeing you."
And that was the last of piece of notable dialogue the bug Ethan Bennet planted was able to broadcast.
He and his new partner, Yin, were sitting in Yin's car, a block away from Walker's Corner. Yin was at the wheel, Ethan opposite her as he adjusted the settings on his radio.
"So he has a partner," Yin remarked, eyes transfixed on the dark street through the windshield, "or a close associate that could live with him."
Ethan nodded, tightening the knot of his tie. "He sounds young, though. He could be just a poor kid who needed a place to sleep."
Yin rolled her eyes. "Yes, and I'm sure you'll look into it."
Ethan sighed, setting the radio down on the dashboard.
"Are you sure he won't find the bug?" Yin asked
"Yes. It'll be fine, don't worry."
A buzz resounded off of Yin's own personal radio. "Detectives," a voice said, "we've got an incident. No suspects or witnesses on the scene. Get to Chairman Road as soon as you can."
Yin picked up her radio and responded, "Standard or supervillain?"
"Supervillain."
"Ten-four." The engine revved up.
"Must be the H.I.V.E. Five," Ethan said, buckling his seat belt. "Think Rojas is leaning more to go with our plan to deal with them?"
"The Titans are going to be gone for who knows how long," Yin replied as they drove off. "The Chief is an idiot if he keeps ignoring the H.I.V.E. and letting a thief do his work for him."
X
Next Morning…
Red X woke up to the sound of his phone ringing.
Turning off his alarm, he found a text from Spike.
"Stay away from the Corner, and the cops," the message read. "They're smart. Might connect a run-in with Red X to a recent exchange with good ol' Spike. Stay alive."
X grimaced.
Another text popped up, from Kitten's boyfriend, Fang.
"Old war buddy of Kitten's dad, calls himself Ding Dong Daddy."
A low-quality picture of an overweight man in an unusual looking car accompanied the name.
"Guy says he's got a briefcase that belongs to Boy Wonder Robin. Hosting a race in Nevada in two days. Winner gets it. Legit deal. Interested?"
Red X smiled.
x
(A/N) Fellow writer Mandalore the freedom informed me that another writer, Freedom Guard, passed away in on August 5, 2015. I am told his real name is Salvador R. Balleza, though I've never spoken with him. I do recall enjoying some of his lengthy Mass Effect, Justice League, and Fallout pieces. If you are familiar with him or not, perhaps look into them to see what writing potential he had and of what he left behind. It is a shame such a talented guy, in my opinion, had to go, but I ask of you to give him a moment of silence and acknowledgment.