Taylor Made Friends: Chapter Three
aka: the Adventures of Doctor Curlyhair (crack-a-boom) 3
November 3, 2009
Max Anders stared at his subordinates. "You did what?"
"We hit the school, Arcadia. Got hostages, got the Tinker girl, and now she's gonna have to work for us if she wants to live," said Hookwolf.
"WHY did you kidnap Doctor Curlyhair?" asked Max Anders, abruptly sitting down and clutching his head in his hands.
"Because you weren't doing anything," said Hookwolf. "Word of you being weak was going around. Need to stop that real fast."
"Where did you take her?" asked Max.
"Sub-basement three, she's locked in there with some of her school chums," said Hookwolf. "Cricket was ready to carve two of her little buddies up if she didn't cooperate."
Max blinked and looked up, his face looking shocked. "You. She's in THIS building? HERE?!"
"Well, yeah," said Hookwolf. "She's handcuffed and in a locked room with the other hostages."
"THIS building?" asked Max Anders. "The Medhall Building. Wait. OTHER hostages?"
"Yeah," agreed Hookwolf.
"What else is in Sub-basement three?" asked Max, turning towards one of his other minions.
Victor brought up a display on his tablet. "Office supplies here. Spare arsenal there. Garage over in this area. One cell."
Max turned whiter than usual. "Who's watching her?"
"Victor is," said Hookwolf.
Max pointed to where Victor was standing.
"I mean Cricket," said Hookwolf.
Cricket waved her hands in an unmistakable "no" gesture.
"Well, she's secured anyway. AND her little friends," said Hookwolf. "Two mooks with assault rifles. She's just a Tinker without supplies. What could possibly go wrong?"
The fire alarm went off.
Max Anders twitched.
The windows rattled as if from some distant explosion.
"Stormtiger, Victor, Cricket," said Max. "Go to Sub-basement three. Assess. Report back. Run damage control if the situation isn't completely out of hand."
"Boss, Big O just started moving our way," came a voice over the intercom. "And all the Tachikomas!"
"I can make blades appear in the joints of the big robot," said Max Anders, his armor forming around him to indicate that this was no longer a problem for the chairman of Medhall. No, this was now a Kaiser matter.
"I think Dragon's piloting Big O," said the intercom.
"Right, said Kaiser, still thinking he could stop a giant robot. It was made of metal after all.
(BOOM!) went something deep in the building.
"Hookwolf. You caused this problem. Fix it," ordered Kaiser.
Hookwolf moved, shifting into a mass of blades.
"If you're going to use the elevators or stairwells, you might want to have hands available," pointed out Kaiser.
* Earlier *
"Uhm," said one of the hostages.
Taylor worked a little screwdriver on the handcuff. That lasted until Victoria Dallon reached over and broke it.
"We're missing a geometry class for this," grumbled Amy.
"Okay, we're no longer in immediate danger of someone turning murder blender on us, but we're still in some place with an awful lot of Empire capes," pointed out Carlos. "So..."
"I suppose I must reveal that... I am DOCTOR CURLYHAIR! Girl Genius!" (crackleTHOOM)
"Actually, most people figure that out within minutes of meeting you," said Carlos.
"Oh," said Doctor Curlyhair. "Huh. Anyway, first order of business is to break out of here!"
"Obvious," said Amy Dallon.
"Second order of business is to see what I can scrounge up to make ARMIES OF DOOM to avenge this indignity!"
"Armies of Doom? Really? Can we be anymore cliche?" asked Amy Dallon.
"Army of Hurt?" asked Doctor Curlyhair. "Would you believe a squad of mischief?"
"That's different at least," admitted Amy.
"Sounds interesting to me," stated Dennis.
Victoria listened for a moment at the door, broke the lock, then dove through. There were a few smacking noises and bodies falling.
"Two guards down, they were reading porn," said Glory Girl/Victoria when she returned.
"Didn't need that detail," stated Amy.
"Well, let's see what we have for raw materials," said Doctor Curlyhair, rubbing her hands together.
"Shouldn't we escape first?" asked Amy.
"Wouldn't it be easier to escape if I have dozens of mini-robots doing all sorts of havoc on their evil Nazi lair?" asked Doctor Curlyhair.
"She has a point," agreed Glory Girl.
"Having mini-robots running amok in a secret Nazi lair does have a certain appeal to it," pointed out Dennis.
"Oooh. High-end walkie talkies, cell phones, a PlayStation Portable, and what's in here?" asked Doctor Curlyhair, looting the two unconscious guard and then checking out a locked door.
(CRUNCH!)
"Thank you, Vicky. I... JACKPOT!" said Doctor Curlyhair, her eyes lighting up at all the calculators, phones, miscellanious office supplies, and broken machines present in the room. "Tools. I need... oh yes, come to me my pretties."
"Can I be Igor and your assistant?" asked Dennis.
"Yes, Dennis, you may assist me," said Doctor Curlyhair, rubbing her hands together. "This will be glorious. Vicky, can you check out the other rooms on this level?"
"Oh, this is going to end in tragedy," said Amy as Vicky nodded and set off.
"Or something we'll laugh about for years, or both," said Dennis.
"Hey, there's a mechanic's garage here with four cars in partial repair," called out VIcky.
"More tools? More parts?" asked Doctor Curlyhair, looking quite manic.
"Tragedy," grumped Amy.
"A tragedy for Nazi supervillains is a comedy for everyone else," reasoned Dennis. "What do you want me to do?"
* Present *
Jessica Biermann looked to her sister. "Do you hear that?"
Nessa Biermann looked around the corridor. "The 1812 Overture."
"It's coming from the air vents, but those only have about a foot height," said Jessica to her twin.
Nessa increased her height to be able to look directly into one. "Something moving? It's a robot tank the size of my shoe."
"Oh shit," said the twins, increasing their height to the maximum they could in the hallway and hoping their damage mitigation was up to the task.
* Penthouse *
Max Anders, or Kaiser as he was currently clad in his armor, stared at the interactive display that showed Medhall floor-by-floor.
Fire alarms on the commercial research floors, bio-hazard alerts on THOSE two levels, someone had toilet papered the executive offices, Miss Harcourt reported that she'd left her desk to get coffee and returned to find her desk and most of the furniture had been completely disassembled and put in nice neat piles, someone had cut the power to four more levels of administration, the intercoms were all playing "Ballroom Blitz" on repeat, the cafeteria was reporting that not only had their power shut down but someone had stolen a five hundred pound pizza oven, and there were teenie tiny tanks blasting out the "1812 Overture" before exploding during the cannon section.
"Fucking Tinkers," said Max, picking up a phone. Time to order a hit on that father just for vengeance purposes.
"I'm sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please shoot yourself or call again."
Max hung up the phone, briefly wondered if he'd heard that right, then picked up the phone again.
"We're no strangers for love, you know the rules, and so do I.
"A full commitment's what I'm thinking of,
"You wouldn't get this from any other guy."
"Fucking Tinkers," repeated Max. He tried the intercom.
"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down."
Max Anders adjusted his armor as Kaiser. That Tinker needed to die for this. Nobody, but nobody, rickrolled him.
* PRT ENE HQ *
"Uhm, Director Piggot? Did you see this?"
"Do you mean the e-mail addressed to me, you, Dragon, and Rebecca Costa-Brown stating that the sender and a small group of children kidnapped by the Empire 88 from Arcadia High School were currently being held at these GPS coordinates and were attempting to rescue themselves and to send assistance if at all possible? The one with a screenshot of Doctor Curlyhair, two members of New Wave, and three of our Wards in their civilian identities?"
"That would be the one," said Armsmaster.
"The one where those GPS coordinates state is the Medhall Building?" asked Director Piggot.
"Yes, that was what my own search turned up," stated Armsmaster. "Is that blinking light indicating that Chief Director Costa-Brown is waiting to speak with you?"
"Most likely, I'd like to say we are already responding," stated Director Piggot.
"I'll get right on it," said Armsmaster.
Director Piggot watched him go, then clicked the button. "We're already responding. No, it appears that Doctor Curlyhair doesn't actually know where she and the others were taken. Yes, three of the children are Wards. Two more are normal children, two are actually New Wave. Because apparently Glory Girl was wearing a different hairstyle and had a hat. Panacea is usually wearing a nearly concealing costume so I'm guessing that's why she wasn't identified. Well, that and the Empire seems to have a higher percentage of morons than the general populace. If you look at that picture, you'll see the two normal children are facing partially away from the camera as are our Wards - though Dennis managed to turn enough that you can see his wink and that he's sticking his tongue out."
There was a brief silence as the Chief Director asked another question.
"Yes, I'm aware that Big O is moving. I received a text message from Dragon that Big O decided 'Ye Not Guilty' and was able to pilot it at least in this emergency. Personally, I think the 'Tobikage' armor that she was building was a lot better suited for in-city work."
Director Piggot held the phone away from her ear briefly as the talking on the other side got louder. Finally there was a break and she began speaking again.
"Yes, we know about the Tobikage armor. Apparently it's something of a project she's working on with Armsmaster and Dragon. A modular power armor that can link with specialized larger armor. If it works out, Armsmaster will be the pilot for it during Endbringer attacks and the like."
There was silence briefly on the other end before a single terse statement.
"Of course I'm keeping you in the loop," said Director Piggot as she set the phone down. "This may actually get us a budget to deal with all this crap."
* Medhall Building *
There were normal people, normal workers, standing outside the Medhall Building as they had all evacuated when the fire alarms went off.
There were normal people, some there in a professional capacity like EMTs and firefighters, some passerby who wanted to gawk in some primeval fascination at a disaster hitting someone else, and some who were just caught up in the snarl of traffic that had resulted and had no damn idea of what was going on.
"What do you suppose THAT means?" asked one woman, pointing.
"Which THAT are you talking about?" responded her companion. "There's an awful lot going on."
"The flashing multi-colored lights on the 7th floor," said the woman, sounding as if she thought it was obvious.
"Disco lighting," said another guy in the crowd. "Except the beat's wrong for disco. Might be techno."
"Why is there confetti coming out of the window on the 9th floor?" asked another guy.
"There are a lot of questions," said an EMT, before going back to sipping on a bottle of water.
(BOOM!) went a set of windows as a wolf made of blades came flying out of the building, making a short arc that ended on top of a Tastee Freezy truck.
"Okay, now it's a cape problem," said the EMT, screwing the top back onto the half-drained bottle.
"Yeah," said a cop, nodding her head at the EMT. "Set up a perimeter, keep everyone out, PRT gonna handle... whoa. Is that that Big O that was on ViewTube?"
"Kinda distinctive," agreed the EMT. "Okay everyone, back up a good ways. That way you can get good pictures of a giant robot stepping on Hookwolf."
Practically everyone wanted pictures of THAT.
* Dragon *
There had been some hesitation from Big O, which as far as she could tell was NOT sapient but WAS sentient. To what degree she wasn't sure.
Then had come the odd boot-up message. "Cast in the name of God, Ye Not Guilty."
Sounded Biblical, but no exact match.
Shortly after that she'd seen a port open up and she'd checked it before connecting.
Now she wasn't using the clumsy manual controls. She was operating Big O like it was a part of her.
It was freaking amazing! She wanted one. Well, maybe if the Tobikage project was ever finished.
She was walking through the city, her footsteps setting off car alarms and barking dogs for blocks.
There was... something darting out of a wrecked truck?
(WHAM!)
What had she just stepped on? She brought up a foot, peeling the smashed bug off before realizing it was Hookwolf.
Oh great, she'd just stepped in Nazi. There was going to be SO MUCH paperwork to fill out.
Assault was on the radio. "Evil is underfoot! Or at least had been underfoot. 10pts to Guildiffor!"
Hookwolf was still moving a bit, the blade-armor retracting. She just dropped the cape off with the PRT vans that were there and looked over the building.
Fenja followed by Menja leapt out of the building, growing rapidly with spears in hand as they prepared to attack.
Their full size wasn't nearly Big O's size. She swatted them to the sides and went back to watching the building. At my size, if someone appeared at a window to need actual rescue - I could just reach up and provide a platform for lowering them.
Various weapon systems provided options that she wouldn't take. Bringing the building down would not help anyone.
No, the weapons would remain unused. On the other hand, she could definitely do crowd control through sheer presence.
(POOM!) A glittering shape came flying out of the penthouse area. She quickly identified it as Kaiser.
Why was he covered in glitter?
Tachikomas arrived... and what was with the weird posing?
Well, now they were going for evacuating the building. Which made sense. They were car-sized though so a lot of rooms and corridors would be a tight fit or just inaccessible.
Ah, they were running up the sides of the building and when someone was needing a lift down they could provide it. Hmmm. If she knelt over there and stuck an arm up, she could essentially provide scaffolding for a more secure transport.
* Meanwhile, with Doctor Curlyhair *
"Damn, if I'd known there was such a thing as the 'Northern Dixie' song I would have led with that," grumped Doctor Curlyhair.
"There, there," consoled Dennis. "You're never 100% prepared, it's not like any of us had 'kidnapped by Nazis' on our schedule."
"Do you even know how to drive?" asked Glory Girl/Victoria.
"Do you accuse me, Doctor Curlyhair (crackle-BOOM!), of driving without a license?"
"None of us have a license," pointed out Amy.
"Next you'll be accusing me of stealing a car!" said Doctor Curlyhair as she fiddled around under the dash.
"A truck," said Amy. "And yes. Yes, you are stealing a truck."
"I am requisitioning a vehicle as spoils of war due to the need to get civilians out of a cape fight," declared Doctor Curlyhair.
"You don't need to do that. There's probably a spare key under that drink holder."
"Seriously? I... Brumel's Blood, there is. How'd you know that, Tammy?"
"Sadly, I know someone who owns a truck like this and that's where they keep a spare."
"Wow. Anything else I should know?"
"You can drive a stick shift?"
"...I've never tried."
"Heave over then. I haven't done this often, but I have driven before. Once. When an associate of mine had some injuries and couldn't manage."
"Oh. Well, I can amuse myself with all these switches."
Tammy began pointing. "All Wheel Drive. Parking brake. Seat heater. Interior light. This is for that bar of lights uptop. Musical horn." (Slap.) "Don't touch that, we're trying to sneak out of the building. Environmental controls. Music system. Don't touch THAT either."
"But I wanted to play something suitable for our escaping an evil lair soundtrack," complained Doctor Curlyhair.
"Uhm, let's see, what's on the playlist?"
"Glory Girl, no. And you can fly."
"Ugh. Some of the selections here are... What's 'conjunto norteno'?"
"Not something I'd expect to find here," said Carlos from the back seat. "It's sometimes called 'Mexican Polka' by non-Mexicans."
"Rather more eclectic tastes than I'd expect to encounter in an evil Nazi lair," said Amy, leaning forward. "Maybe the truck is stolen?"
"Also has Wagner," said Doctor Curlyhair. "And honestly? That's kind of perfect. We all buckled in?"
"You guys in the back hang on," called out Carlos as Tammy started up the truck (which was pretty loud) and Taylor punched "Ride of the Valkyries" up (even louder) and the ride to freedom began.
The door controls had already been overriden and as soon as the oversized truck got within twenty feet they began rolling up into the ceiling.
Playing Ride of the Valkyries still, the escape continued.
* Tammy *
She'd signalled him. Three times! Three times Brad Meadows had completely missed that one of his own team was among the hostages!
Yeah, the man could get tunnel vision sometimes and wasn't the brightest member of the Empire, but STILL!
At which point she'd been stuck with staying in her secret identity and acting the helpless schoolgirl. Trying to sabotage the escape had just had her shuffled off to the side, and people were constantly watching her after that. Because Tammy was obviously distraught and clumsy as hell.
This was why she'd wanted to go to Immaculata but no - the Wards went to Arcadia and so Max had moved her there to try and keep an eye out.
See how well that worked out, Max? Did you?
Freaking Glory Girl and Panacea among the hostages? Were you even paying attention, Brad?
Which was another reason not to out herself as Rune the telekinetic member of Empire 88. Glory Girl would have punched the crap out of her. And Doctor Curlyhair? Doctor Curlyhair was a freaking joke hero but as a Tinker there was no telling what she might have ended up making to deal with a traitor in their midst.
Now she was driving Otto's redneck truck. Otto from the motor pool. Otto the guy everyone thought was a spy for the BBPD and fed false information to. Otto the guy who spent more time smoking weed while fixing cars then attending any of the meetings.
Damn it, there he was. Smoking weed again, sitting back in a chair and staring as his truck went past him. And obviously recognizing her and WAVING AT HER!
Freaking high-as-a-kite OTTO recognized her when freaking BRAD hadn't!
Was this day over yet? Because she was freaking damn ready for this day to be over.