Seattle, Washington
Waterfront district
April 7, 2003
1:43 AM PST

The late night sky was clear and crisp, and stars were out all over. In the distance, the occasional muted clang of buoys could be heard, along with the sporadic car engines of night owl Seattle drivers as they passed somewhere nearby, unseen.

On a warehouse rooftop in the seemingly deserted dock area, a giant being made of rock sat cross-legged near the edge, holding what would be, for anyone else, oversized binoculars to his dimly glowing red eyes. In the single, giant hand he held them up with, they looked like a child’s toy bought at a supermarket. The being had the binoculars trained on a warehouse across the way, on where a pair of domed lights poorly lit the twin cargo doors and the smaller entrance door set into one of them.

Next to him, a tall man in sleek black-and-green armor stood, watching the same warehouse. He had no need for binoculars, as his visor allowed him, among other things, telescopic sighting. And the ability to see in the night. Various tiny icons and readouts in his display gave distance and magnification readings and levels of brightness, along with a couple that monitored general suit status levels.

The armored man stood with one boot (one that released jets beneath it on command) resting on the raised ledge, and he leaned with one forearm on his bent knee. After a few moments, he made an imperceptible move with this thumb that brought another display up in the upper left field of his vision. It showed the time. Seeing it again for the third time in ten minutes, he sighed. He took his boot down, took a step back, and sat down on an old crate on the rooftop. Reaching into a hidden compartment on his armor’s left leg, he pulled out a pack of Winstons and a Zippo lighter. Plucking out a smoke, he clicked open the Zippo, lit his Winston, and snapped the Zippo closed again as he puffed the cigarette into life.

Rainier turned his head at the sound and regarded Seahawk, then went back to watching the warehouse. After a couple of moments, he spoke, quietly.

“Do you have to do that? You know…in costume?”

Seahawk exhaled, speaking in low tones as well. “I could do it out of costume, but we’d probably get arrested. Or at least start some gossip that I don’t want to be part of.”

Rainier sighed. “I mean…you know, there could be…kids around or something.”

“Davis,” Seahawk said, casually turning his head to his teammate. “I guarantee you. Any kids down on the docks, this time of night on a Thursday? They’re PROBABLY smokers already.”

Rainier sighed again, slowly, and raised his binoculars.

“And I don’t have a ‘costume’,” Seahawk said. “I have ‘armor’. Vortex has a ‘costume’. Dyna Girl has a ‘costume’. I have ‘armor’.”

“Fine, armor.”

“Just because you’re a big pile of rocks and you don’t have to bother with either doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know the difference.”

“I’ve conceded the point,” Rainier said, with a low resonance of tired annoyance.

“BETTER concede the point,” Seahawk mumbled, going back to smoking and surveilling. They both continued their watch in silence.

Seahawk finished his cigarette and tossed it over the roof edge, which drew a brief, small glance from Rainier. He leaned back and stretched his neck and grunted. After blowing breath out, he sat forward, waited a moment, and then keyed his helmet radio.

“And we ARE considering the thought that Moonspider’s source might be…you know…full of shit, right?”

“Eat me,” the British accent of Moonspider said over the radio.

“I seem to recall,” Tinker’s voice quietly said, “a number of speeches from you in the early days about stakeouts? All part of the job, they take patience, remember to pee first? All that macho ex-cop crap?”

“I sure do,” Rainier muttered.

“Yeah, those were cool,” Max’s hushed voice said with his usual enthusiasm. “I loved being on stakeouts back then. They made me feel like I was on NYPD Blue.”

“Yeah, well,” Seahawk said, “I’m older now and I have to be into work early. If I’m going to lose sleep, I’d rather it not be over a tip from a super-villain trying to cut a deal. Who, by the way, will shovel anything at gullible villain lawyers to look less villainy.”

“Eat me, and stay for desert,” Moonspider said.

“At least YOUR boss knows you’re a super-hero,” Vortex said. “Some of us aren’t so lucky AND are trying for tenure.”

“Yeah, and as soon as finals are over, you get your summer off. You’re fogging up my visor here.”

“Try the ‘eat me’”, Moonspider offered. “It’s nicely cathartic.”

“Eat me,” Vortex said.

“Told you,” Moonspider answered.

“We’re considering it good intel,” Tinker said, tiredly. “So we’re waiting. All night if we have to.”

“It’s not so bad,” Nightsable’s voice said. “At least it’s kind of nice out.”

“Sure,” Seahawk grinned. “Says the girl who can teleport home and get coffee if she wants to.”

After a pause, Nightsable answered, “Yeah. Um. I kind of already did.”

“What?!” Moonspider quietly demanded.

“Oh, come on,” Vortex griped.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was getting punchy. I needed caffeine. I was only gone for a few minutes.”

“Unfair use of powers. Fifteen yard penalty,” Max lightly laughed.

“I’m sorry…” she said again with genuine guilt.

“Let the girl have her coffee,” Dyna Girl’s voice interjected. “God. Bunch of whiners.”

“I could have run home and done the same thing,” Vortex said.

“And yet you didn’t,” Dyna Girl said. “And that makes WHICH one of you the smart one?”

“And I didn’t because I’m on a stakeout,’ Vortex said. “You don’t leave a stakeout for beverages. That’s usually right when things go straight to hell. Back me up, Seahawk.”

“Ooh, BOTH ex-cops and their vast experience,” Dyna Girl said. “Aren’t we lucky to have Crockett and Tubbs out here with us?”

“Which one’s which, then?” Moonspider asked.

“I’m totally Crockett,” Seahawk said, turning his head to scan the surrounding area for any signs of approach or movement.

“What?” Vortex snorted. “How are you the Crockett here?”

“I live on a boat, for one thing. And I was IN vice, and undercover. They could have based that character on my life. If there’s a Crockett here, I’m the Crockett.”

“Oh, God,” Dyna Girl moaned.

“Yeah. Whatever, Joe Friday,” Vortex said.

Nightsable giggled.

“You drive an SUV,” Vortex added. “Crockett wouldn’t be caught dead in an SUV.”

“Hey,” Tinker said, “think we could maybe talk a little MORE about our secret I.D.’s on the radio? Knock it off.”

“You built the damn things,” Seahawk said. “Thought they were supposed to be tap-free?”

“They’re supposed to be. But there’s no guarantees. That’s what radio protocol is there for.”

“If anyone’s listening,” Moonspider said, “Seahawk’s real name is Earl Farthington, and he moonlights as a man-servant for the duchess of Burbank.”

“What’s up with you and sleep, Nightsable?” Max asked. “How come you’re always so tired lately?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sounding pretty bothered by it. “I’m getting enough sleep, but I’m just dragging all day. I can’t figure it out. It’s driving me nuts.”

“Maybe you need a new mattress,” Max suggested. “Yours might be too hard or too soft. You ought to get one of those adjustable ones like on the commercials.”

“Maybe. I just don’t know.”

“This is the part,” Moonspider said, “where Max says his mattress is JUST right, so maybe she ought to drop by and try his out. Smooth move, brother.”

“Dude, shut up!” Max said, sounding panicked. “I was so not saying anything like that!”

“That’s where I would have gone with that, at least,” Moonspider said, dismissively. “Too each his own.”

“I am NOT Tubbs,” Vortex said.

“Jesus, let it go,” Seahawk said. “You’re not even my partner tonight, anyway. If anyone’s Tubbs, Rainier is Tubbs.”

“Thank you?” Rainier said, speaking into his own radio.

“Oh, I so want to see a big mess of jheri curl on that big rocky head,” Dyna Girl snickered.

Several of the others broadcast their low laughter.

“We got movement,” Seahawk whispered suddenly, dropping silently to a crouch with his splayed fingers on the rooftop and zooming his visor in on the warehouse.

“Everyone ready,” Tinker whispered sharply.

Two figures stepped out of the smaller inset door. As they did, and before they closed it, the sounds of other voices could be heard somewhere inside. They were both male, one wearing a jean jacket, the other a longshoreman’s coat. As soon as the door was closed and they took a look around, they started talking quietly to each other and both pulled out packs of cigarettes.

“Just the cancer twins again,” Seahawk whispered with obvious disappointment and annoyance.

“Look who’s talking,” Rainier whispered, not using the radio.

“False alarm,” Tinker sighed. “Stand down.”

“Are we to believe there’s actually a ‘no smoking’ sign in there and the arms dealers are abiding by it?” Moonspider asked.

“No, they’re probably just as bored as we are and looking for a change of scenery,” Seahawk said, continuing to watch them in high-zoom.

“You think YOU’RE bored?” Dyna Girl asked. “Try being where I’M stationed.”

“Seriously,” Max said, suddenly. “I wasn’t trying to say anything like that. You know that, right?”

“I know, Bobby,” Nightsable laughed. “He was just messing with you. Relax.”

“And there’s that diligent use of radio protocol again,” Tinker said, flatly.

“Oops,” Nightsable whispered.

“She’s punchy,” Dyna Girl said. “Cut her some slack.”

“Good thing she was using his CODE NAME then, huh?” Moonspider asked the radio with a purposeful lack of believability. “Got that? We’re using code names. Except for Seahawk. He really is Earl Farthington. Tea-serving man-bitch.”

Ignoring that, Seahawk turned his head left and right, continuing his scan of the area while Rainier kept his binoculars zeroed on the very uninteresting smokers. When Seahawk’s gaze turned back to his zoom on the pair, a thought hit him, and he grinned to himself.

“Hey, Vortex,” he whispered into his radio.

“It’s okay, you can call me Rupert,” Vortex said. “We’re all friends here.”

“So, you know how there’s those two guys out there smoking?”

“Uh, yes. I’m aware of them. And that they’re smoking.”

“They probably had bad role models as kids,” Rainier said into the radio, rolling a glance Seahawk’s way before going back to watching them.

Ignoring that as well, Seahawk zoomed in on their cigarettes, gauging how much unburned tobacco was left on each.

“Twenty bucks says you can’t run up there at super-speed and steal one of their wallets without them knowing it,” he radioed.

“Excuse me?” Tinker asked.

“Interesting…” Moonspider said, thoughtfully.

“What, are you serious?” Vortex asked.

“No, he’s not,” Tinker said, rather emphatically. “Tell him you’re not.”

“I bet Celerity could do it,” Seahawk said. “And she’s a girl, you know. Flash, too. And he’s really, really old.”

“Seahawk, what are you doing?” Tinker asked.

“I’m just pointing out that Vortex is still fairly new to the game. I think we have a responsibility to give the new guys opportunities to hone their skills and prove to themselves and their teammates that they don’t…you know…suck.”

“He could do it,” Max opined supportively. “No problem. He’s totally that fast.”

“And you know what happens if he does something that stupid and blows it?” Tinker asked.

“I win twenty bucks?” Seahawk answered, shrugging to himself.

“He blows the op and we miss our chance at this.”

“The ‘op’?” Nightsable asked.

“What are we, Rainbow Six?” Moonspider asked.

“She’s saying that this is too important to take chances like just because Seahawk’s bored,” Rainier said.

“Thank you, Rainier,” Tinker said.

“So that’s two of them that think you can’t do it,” Seahawk radioed. “Not looking good for your team’s confidence in you, kid. Anyone else think he’s lame?”

“I don’t think he’s ‘lame’,” Tinker said, peevishly. “I think it’s a dumb idea.”

“I think he can do it,” Nightsable said with a smile in her voice.

“And who knows better than her how speedy he is?” Moonspider asked.

Radio silence ensued for a few moments.

“Let’s all pretend I didn’t say that,” Moonspider said, quietly.

Taking that advice and going along with the pretending (to his credit, as the touchy subject directly involved him), Seahawk kept on with the topic at hand. “They’re not even supers. Just a couple of humps. And not very bright, either, from the look of them. You would THINK it wouldn’t be much of a challenge for a guy who always seems so sure of himself. Unless that’s just an act, of course.”

“Okay, now I’M kind of curious,” Dyna Girl admitted.

“Dyna Girl, knock it off,” Tinker said. “Vortex, you have nothing to prove to this team, and I’m counting on your clear head and rational thinking to realize that he’s just goading you, and that it’s a bad idea.”

“You know who’d do it?” Seahawk asked. “I mean, if he had speed powers?”

He allowed a dramatic pause before continuing.

“James Sonny Crockett. That’s who.”

There was silence across their private radio frequency as everyone seemed to be waiting.

“Make it fifty?” Vortex finally asked.

“NOW we’re talking,” Moonspider laughed.

“Tell me you guys are just messing with me,” Tinker said, hopelessly.

“Hey, I’m game if you’re game, rookie,” Seahawk said, grinning. “If you think you have the skills. And the balls.”

“How did I know testicles would get brought into this?” Dyna Girl asked.

“Vortex? Please?” Tinker asked.

Radio silence fell again, and the only sound again became the buoys. Seahawk kept his visor trained on the smokers. Rainier lowered his binoculars and looked at Seahawk for a moment, then looked around the warehouse area below in silence, then brought his binoculars back up and watched the pair of thugs again as well. Waiting.

As both heroes watched, a barely perceptible blue blur appeared and disappeared behind the one in the jean jacket. If neither hero was familiar with the sight, they probably wouldn’t have seen it at all. Rainier immediately tensed and had to be careful not to crush his binoculars in his rocky fingers. Seahawk held a breath.

The smoker in the jean jacket suddenly looked around oddly as his partner continued to speak. He seemed confused and distracted. He turned his head and looked over his shoulder, creased his brow in thought, then took another look around the general area. The other man looked around too, seeing this, and whispered a question to the first thug. After some more looking, the Levi man shook his head, and his lips could be seen making the word ‘nothing’.

The pair said a few more words, then tossed their expended butts, opened the door to the warehouse, and went back inside. After the creaky door closed behind them, Seahawk and Rainier continued to sit in silence, along with everyone else.

Finally, Vortex’s voice on the radio broke the tense quiet.

“Charles Graham,” he said. “Delaware driver’s license. Organ donor.”

Seahawk smiled widely and snickered mischievously through his nose in that way he had, proud of himself. Rainier looked over at him and just shook his head. Some of the others again let their quiet laughter speak for them on the radio band.

“I knew he could do it,” Max whispered.

“Fifty dollars in small, unmarked bills coming your way, speedy boy,” Seahawk said. “Well-earned. I’ll hook you up on that tomorrow.”

“This whole field leader thing is just an honorary title, isn’t it?” Tinker asked, tiredly. “Like Bill Cosby’s medical degree.”

“Sorry, but you lost all my respect when you started using words like ‘op’,” Moonspider said.

“Come on, Tinker,” Nightsable laughed, trying to lighten the mood with her tone. “It was fun.”

“If the excitement keeps Nightsable awake, then it’s all worth it,” Moonspider said.

“Sorry, Tinker,” Vortex said with a bit of wince in his voice. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t know I could pull it off.”

“You do realize you just committed a crime, right?” Tinker asked.

“Oh, I’ll put it back before the feds drag him away tonight. No sweat. He’ll never know it was gone.”

“So how much cash is Charlie packing?” Seahawk asked. “Enough for breakfast for us all when and if this is finally over?”

“Hey. Breakfast Club,” Dyna Girl said. “Anyone else notice the SUV coming your way?”

Seahawk and Rainier both suddenly shot looks around the area and spotted, almost in unison, a pair of headlights in the distance. Snapping into complete seriousness, Seahawk zoomed in and found the lights were coming from a black Escalade with tinted windows. The vehicle was rolling slowly through a line of warehouses and was, in fact, heading in their general direction.

“Confirmed,” Seahawk said. “Coming this way.”

“What did I just say?” Dyna Girl asked indignantly.

“Okay, fun’s over,” Tinker said intently. “This is it.”

Seahawk and Rainier both got low and watched the SUV as it approached their section of the waterfront. It made a left turn and came right past the warehouse they were perched on before turning and pulling to a stop in front of the one they were watching.

“Well, at least we know it’s not Crockett,” Vortex whispered.

The engine switched off, and after a moment, all four of the doors opened. Figures in clearly non-civilian garb stepped out.

“Ohhh, we have costumes,” Seahawk whispered. “Happy day.”

“Looks like you owe somebody’s snitch an apology,” Nightsable said.

Two men and two women stood looking around, seeming slightly cautious but not nervous. ‘Cocky’ was a good way to describe their body language. The driver was a muscular woman in a black costume with red boots and gloves, with a belt of numerous compartments around her waist and her long black hair pulled back in a tail. From the shotgun position, a man whose muscles shamed hers had gotten out, wearing an all-black costume with short sleeves to show off his mighty arms. He looked about seven feet tall and wore a mask that looked like it had been bought in a bondage shop. The other woman, without much of a costume to speak of but with a lot of skin exposed—skin covered in thick, dark gray fur—had long claws coming from her fingers. She squinted her eyes as she peered around. The last of the foursome was an Asian male in a red and yellow costume with thick gloves and tinted black goggles.

“I make four,” Tinker whispered, both a statement and a question.

“One more getting out,” Seahawk whispered back, pulling back his zoom to take them all in. “Let’s see if it’s our girl. Not that we know what our girl looks like.”

All but one of the villains closed their respective doors. The hairy woman held hers open. One bare leg, then a second, slid out from the back seat. Out stepped a woman with long blond hair, one in a costume as well. Hers was all in deep green. It was made up of a (very) low-cut top, long, thin gloves that reached her elbows, a mask that, like Nightsable’s, didn’t really cover her face as much as accentuate it, and, below a thin belt, some (very) short and (very) tight shorts.

“Woah,” Rainier said, involuntarily, watching through his binoculars.

“THAT’s Masterpiece?” Seahawk asked, unable to keep himself from zooming in further. The much-heard-of but yet-unseen mastermind had both a face, and a body, of a super-model.

“If they named her for that ass, they were dead on,” Moonspider whispered. “Seahawk, catch me a pic of that.”

Seahawk zoomed in on the villainess’ backside and made a move with his finger. In his ears alone, a small shutter click sounded. The image showed up small in the right corner of his visor, and with another finger move, he quickly filed it away. “Done,” he whispered. “Happy St. Crispin’s Day.”

“Oh, my God,” Dyna Girl said with disgust.

“You guys are such dorks,” Nightsable said with equal disdain.

“I’ll need a poster-sized of that one to put on my bedroom ceiling,” Moonspider said. “Think she’ll autograph it for me?”

“Will you all shut up? Please?” Tinker whispered harshly.

The heroes who could see watched quietly as Masterpiece spoke a few words to the other villains, and the five of them casually walked to the warehouse door, opened it without fear, and stepped inside. The furry female was the last in, taking a last look around before closing the door behind them.

“One Masterpiece and all of the Dire Four,” Seahawk said. “I owe that snitch more than an apology. He gets dinner and a movie.”

“He’s partial to bowling, actually,” Moonspider said. “Bring appropriate shoes.”

“Okay,” Tinker said, resolutely. “Is everyone ready?”

“Yeah, is Nightsable even here?” Moonspider asked. “Or is she off getting a massage?”

“Ha, ha,” Nightsable answered, drolly. “Yes, I’m here.”

“We can take all of them down in one shot and bust a major arms ring,” Tinker said. “Not to mention bagging some A-list villains. If we do this right. We need surprise, we need containment. Vortex, I’ll want all the thugs disarmed first thing. I just signaled the STRIKE team. They’re in position.”

“They’re still awake?” Moonspider asked. “Good on them.”

“Nightsable, the norms will scatter once we’re in and they have no guns. I want you outside to start. Drop portals in front of them when they’re running and drop them in the Strike team’s locale. I know they don’t have powers, but there’s some major players in there with the thugs, and I don’t want any of them getting away.”

“Got it,” Nightsable said.

“The rest of you swarm the Four and their new queen. No banter, no chatter. Don’t give them time to think. These guys gave Angel Flight a good run and managed to walk away. I don’t want them getting their bearings. Hard and fast, set partners with some exceptions. Rainier?”

“Yes?” Rainier asked, putting his binoculars down on the roof next to him.

“Try to take Blacktower down before he can grow. He could really jam things up in there.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said.

“Max,” Tinker went on, “you’ve had history with Bearcat. Use that. Get her pissed at you again, get her focused on that. Vortex will back you. She’s fast with those claws.”

“Okay, if I have to,” Max said, not sounding happy about it. “I don’t know why she’s so mad at me.”

“Uh, might be because you’re a super-HERO, braniac?” Moonspider said. “And she’s the OTHER kind of super? You’ve got to stop taking this so personal, mate. Just accept that she’s nuts and smack her. Don’t try to win her heart. She’s much too hairy for you anyway. She’d shed all over that just-right mattress of yours.”

“If any of us wants to have children someday like Seahawk,” Tinker said, and her voice suggested she was on the move, “Rad has to go down fast. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want my hair falling out in the morning. Dyna, shut him down.”

“No problem,” Dyna Girl said.

“Seahawk’s not worried,” Vortex commented. “His hair’s ALREADY falling out…”

“Moonspider, you and I have Masterpiece,” Tinker said.

“I take it all back,” Moonspider said. “You ARE my leader. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“There’s a reason she’s stayed under the radar and out of jail this long,” Tinker told him. “She’s tricky. She’s smart. And we don’t fully know what she’s capable of. Expect the unexpected.”

“The unexpected would be him NOT getting a boner while fighting her,” Dyna Girl said.

“Can I be the one to pat her down before they take her in?” Moonspider asked.

“Seahawk,” Tinker said, “let Rainier focus on Blacktower. You focus on Animus. Be relentless. She’s supposed to be a hell of a fighter. Nightsable will aid both of you as needed when she’s done with the rat-catching.”

“Sounds suspiciously like a plan,” Seahawk said, running through a last-minute suit system check. “Do we let them do the deal for a while and get relaxed, or take them now?”

“I say now,” Tinker said. “While the two groups are focused on sizing each other up.”

“I agree,” Seahawk said, standing up. Rainier got to his feet and stood next to him, towering in height above him. “Okay. Entry method?”

There was silence as Tinker seemed to consider it. “You’ve got the best vantage,” she said to Seahawk. “You call it.”

Seahawk looked the warehouse over and pondered it, clicking his teeth together in contemplation. After a moment, he turned his head to Rainier.

“Dyna bomb?” Seahawk asked him.

Rainier looked down on his long-time teammate, then looked at the warehouse and thought about it. He looked back to Seahawk and nodded in agreement. “Dyna bomb.”

“Dyna bomb,” Seahawk said deeply into the radio.

“Everyone set,” was Tinker’s only answer.

Rainier and Seahawk stood and waited, and Seahawk rolled his neck and squared his shoulders in anticipation. Soon, a faint whistling sound could be heard in the otherwise calm and quiet area. It very quickly grew louder. And quickly after that, a long red blur came straight down from the sky, right toward the warehouse they watched. Coming down like a meteor, the blur smashed through the warehouse roof with a deafening crash that split the quiet of the night, and every high window in the building blew out at once.

“I never get tired of that,” Seahawk grinned, throwing his arms behind him and pulling them back out, deploying his metallic armor wings with a sharp ching. As he did, the blue blur of Vortex could be seen streaking into the warehouse door as panicked shouts could be heard from inside.

“Let’s take ‘em, Tubbs!” Seahawk said to Rainier, diving off the roof and igniting his boot jets, soaring toward the scene of the coming battle.

“I am NOT Tubbs,” Rainier muttered grumpily, shaking his head, and leaped off the roof to join him.

 

END.

 

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