times that if I completed the job successfully. I needed to talk over the ramifications of this job with Martin. I had questions that would have been imprudent to ask within the restaurant.
It was evidently peak hour for Barside, as the parking garage signs declared it full. The elevator in the parking garage took me up to the appropriate floor, as I mused on the day’s events. It had been exhausting, to tell the truth. I was looking forward to getting back to the lair and soaking in the hot tub for a while. Perhaps Martin would join me? The shows I had watched indicated that was a social thing to do. Although, half of them seemed to use it as a romantic driver, particularly when only two people were involved. I didn’t know if I wanted to pursue that option with Martin. Honestly, catching up with the rest of humanity in regards to popular culture and social customs was more of a chore than I’d expected. Initiating a romance, even if he was willing, would be more of a strain then I wanted to take on at this time. I was smart enough to realize that there were so, so many ways it could go wrong, and that super-genius or no, if I messed it up, then the consequences could be catastrophic.
No. Better off friends. Friends I knew, friends I could do. Lovers were an unknown quantity.
Pity, though. From the little I’d seen when he changed there was a pretty good body under those clothes, and my biology insisted on informing me that mating was a thing I should be doing. Ah well. Save that experiment for when I had a more secure base, and enough social contacts that I could afford to lose one.
A final nod as I reached my decision, and the elevator doors hummed open. The lights were out, and I found that strange.
Puzzlement turned to panic, as someone tried to shoot me.
CHAPTER 4: BULLETS AND BASTARDS
“Weird as the costume life is, sometimes you gotta take a step back and realize that not everything you run into is about you. Sometimes shit just happens, man.”
--Ballista, Independent hero active within Icon City from 1999-2008
CRACK!
A flare of light in the darkened garage showed muzzle flash from the second shot. I realized that I was in a lit box in the middle of the dark, and my luck couldn’t hold forever so I dove out of the elevator, heading low. The bullet clipped a car to my left, sent up sparks, followed in a microsecond by a second CRACK, and I was on the ground and scrabbling out of the light. I moved low and fast, briefcase tangled in my skirt before I slid it across the ground under a car, and half-crawled, half-skittered after it.
I was out of the light, and behind cover. I breathed hard, reached under the car, and pulled the briefcase back to me as the echoes of the shot faded in the garage. They faded quickly. Silenced? Yes. That sounded likely. Silenced pistols.
Voices rose, angry and male, but I ignored them for the moment as I cracked open the briefcase, and reached inside until my fingers touched ceramic-steel. I withdrew my find, pulled my glasses off with my free hand, and jammed my mask over my face.
Pneumatics tickled as it locked into place, and darkness turned to light as the operating system hummed to life.
Hot panic ebbed, replaced by cold rage.
I didn’t know who, but someone was going to pay for this.
I considered the array of gadgets in the case. The scanner was still going, since I’d neglected to turn it off. Might as well leave it on, if they were using a tactical net then that would give me options there. After another thought, I withdrew the universal remote, my pistol, two magazines, and a flashpak. I considered the taser, then shook my head and shut the case, slid it back under the car.
Whoever they were, they’d opened with lethal force, a violation of the unwritten rules that limited wasteful escalation by heroes and villains. In this case, my use of lethal force would be acceptable; it was basically self-defense.
My mask informed me that it was at 100%
It was evidently peak hour for Barside, as the parking garage signs declared it full. The elevator in the parking garage took me up to the appropriate floor, as I mused on the day’s events. It had been exhausting, to tell the truth. I was looking forward to getting back to the lair and soaking in the hot tub for a while. Perhaps Martin would join me? The shows I had watched indicated that was a social thing to do. Although, half of them seemed to use it as a romantic driver, particularly when only two people were involved. I didn’t know if I wanted to pursue that option with Martin. Honestly, catching up with the rest of humanity in regards to popular culture and social customs was more of a chore than I’d expected. Initiating a romance, even if he was willing, would be more of a strain then I wanted to take on at this time. I was smart enough to realize that there were so, so many ways it could go wrong, and that super-genius or no, if I messed it up, then the consequences could be catastrophic.
No. Better off friends. Friends I knew, friends I could do. Lovers were an unknown quantity.
Pity, though. From the little I’d seen when he changed there was a pretty good body under those clothes, and my biology insisted on informing me that mating was a thing I should be doing. Ah well. Save that experiment for when I had a more secure base, and enough social contacts that I could afford to lose one.
A final nod as I reached my decision, and the elevator doors hummed open. The lights were out, and I found that strange.
Puzzlement turned to panic, as someone tried to shoot me.
CHAPTER 4: BULLETS AND BASTARDS
“Weird as the costume life is, sometimes you gotta take a step back and realize that not everything you run into is about you. Sometimes shit just happens, man.”
--Ballista, Independent hero active within Icon City from 1999-2008
CRACK!
A flare of light in the darkened garage showed muzzle flash from the second shot. I realized that I was in a lit box in the middle of the dark, and my luck couldn’t hold forever so I dove out of the elevator, heading low. The bullet clipped a car to my left, sent up sparks, followed in a microsecond by a second CRACK, and I was on the ground and scrabbling out of the light. I moved low and fast, briefcase tangled in my skirt before I slid it across the ground under a car, and half-crawled, half-skittered after it.
I was out of the light, and behind cover. I breathed hard, reached under the car, and pulled the briefcase back to me as the echoes of the shot faded in the garage. They faded quickly. Silenced? Yes. That sounded likely. Silenced pistols.
Voices rose, angry and male, but I ignored them for the moment as I cracked open the briefcase, and reached inside until my fingers touched ceramic-steel. I withdrew my find, pulled my glasses off with my free hand, and jammed my mask over my face.
Pneumatics tickled as it locked into place, and darkness turned to light as the operating system hummed to life.
Hot panic ebbed, replaced by cold rage.
I didn’t know who, but someone was going to pay for this.
I considered the array of gadgets in the case. The scanner was still going, since I’d neglected to turn it off. Might as well leave it on, if they were using a tactical net then that would give me options there. After another thought, I withdrew the universal remote, my pistol, two magazines, and a flashpak. I considered the taser, then shook my head and shut the case, slid it back under the car.
Whoever they were, they’d opened with lethal force, a violation of the unwritten rules that limited wasteful escalation by heroes and villains. In this case, my use of lethal force would be acceptable; it was basically self-defense.
My mask informed me that it was at 100%
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