"Very little is known about Jake Powell, the 15 year old boy who killed two classmates and injured another, before appearently killing himself then storming out of the morgue, seeming to be very alive. Police are certain that he shares the same characteristics as the so-called 'Omega Soldier', the genetically modified soldier who was supposedly the hero of the third great war. No other details can be confirmed, and the Canadian department of defense has refused all our calls." Needless to say, Powell's rampage had caused a media frenzy. Among the other major newscasters, Jenna Rook was delivering the story all day, with many semi-relevant interviews, repeating the same information every couple hours.
Steven paced across her room. She'd been listening to the news for hours, and had heard everything worth hearing. Right now, it seemed that 'Avenger' was the last of her concerns, with Powell's rampaging. She figured that Powell had tricked the police with a bit of make-up and dropping his body temperature, which was a known characteristic of that type of soldier. Or rather, that soldier, because until now, there was only supposed to be one in existence. Recalling, she knew that there wasn't an extensive investigation of his body at the school, and they had rushed to get the bodies out of the school. He probably had it all planned out.
He didn't, actually. Powell was just making it up as he went along.
***
Ken didn't have the luxury that Steve did of pacing, but he was thinking, too. Well, at least, now he was, hadn't been able to think as much as Steve did. Most of his morning was spent breaking lamps, hurling his rather comfortable stationary chair at the wall in anger, then trying desperately to bend it back into shape when he calmed down a bit.
It would be an understatement to say that Ken was pissed off.
And can you blame him?
I've got the advantage here, Ken thought. In the last great war, they never saw him coming; didn't have time to prepare.
Oh, who the hell am I kidding?
It didn't take Ken long to come to the same conclusions that Steve had made, and was getting nowhere, quickly. Along with the newscast, he also had the police radio on. Because, you never know. He was searching through the armour's internal database, trying to find some sort of weapon that would help him. Not surprisingly, there wasn't one.
"Five five Jackson; we've got it." Echoed over the police radio. Ken was tuning out most of the speech over the radio, seeing that the police were still running at their usual low capacity, and clearly couldn't put all, or even most of their next to no resources into tracking down Powell. The name, however, caught Ken's attention. Officer Jackson was helpful; maybe he knew something. He made a mental note of the address Jackson was traveling to, and put on the armour. Before he left out the window, he threw a nearby lamp at the wall, just for good measure.
It was nice to fly. Took his attention away from Powell, if not only for a few minutes. By the time he had arrived, however, Jackson and his partner were helping what Ken was sure was a fine young citizen into the back of their car, with handcuffs.
“Give me some inspiration, Jackson.”
“The sky’s actually blue. Isn’t that a wonderful bit of poetry?” Jackson snickered.
“Does it look like I’m laughing?” The monotonous voice boomed.
“Damned if I know; with the mask and whatnot.”
“Okay, people are dead; damn serious here.”
“I don’t think I can help you with that Powell-monster… that’s what he is; a monster. I think I know something that could interest you, though…” Jackson thought about it for a minute.
“What?”
“Well… you didn’t hear this from me, but the police department might be looking to taking you down, as their priority above Powell.”
“Oh, wonderful. Anything else?”
“Well… there might be a suitcase of ammunition at the police depot that you stole the armour from… and it might be helpful to you, since it might be the prototype of how they’re going to fuck you over. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
“Thank you, Officer, I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”
“What? I didn’t tell you anything.”
“Of course.” Turning the synthesizer off, he added, “Computer, flight, activate. Police warehouse number two.”
He smashed the door open. Boxes were pilled on top of boxes.
“Computer, still photograph, shoot. Save as ‘Warehouse Before’.” Ken wasn’t planning on letting anyone know he was here… not yet. He started searching through boxes.
Ammunition. Ammunition. Old books. A few desks. Chairs. Certainly nothing that looked of interest.
Well, except for maybe the briefcase labeled “Ammunition Testing”. That seemed to be a bit interesting. After smashing the lock open, he examined the contents.
“Now, now… what do we have here?” About twenty bullets were on one side of the case, a very light shade of blue, two small inexpensive books falling out as he opened it. An examination of the other side of the case revealed a small missile object, attached to an odd looking object. Second glance led to the assumption that it was a wrist mounted weapon, although he couldn’t tell what the purpose of it was.
Picking up the two books, it was obvious that they were either manuals, or notes from the designers. The cover of one revealed that the bullets were “liquid nitrogen loaded bullets”. Further reading into the manual revealed that the bullets were designed to send whatever target it hit to a freezing death. More reading explained that the range was limited, and impact alone wouldn’t even cause a cut, although if it did hit, it would certainly kill off any cells in the area rather quickly.
Ken wasn’t stupid. The practical usage of said bullets wasn’t given, but he could think of one usage of them; dropping a certain terrorist from gaseous to solid. Whether the bullets were a new idea or a war relic, Ken didn’t know, or care, Jackson had led him to a jackpot.
***
Unlike Ken, who had spent the last two hours searching through police warehouses for possible weapons in desperation, Jake was having the time of his life. He had just won a firefight against a small army of Hell’s Fire members, being an official member of the Nightmare Crew. And he was having fun. Jake was finally glad that he was appreciated somewhere, and high-ups at the Nightmare Crew were thanking the heavens for this blessing. He was insuring that the gang kept its stake in that part of Ottawa.
Gunfire had attracted the attention of police, but Jake wasn’t intimidated. Much like most teenagers, he considered himself invincible. Unlike most, however, everyone else considered him invincible, too. And just a bit crazy, too. Powell decided that police cars would be excellent fodder for testing out his new skills. He went down the stairs, wondering how many cars there would be.
When he went down the stairs, he counted three police cars, and with the exception of an incredibly armoured truck, and a familiar vigilante he knew as Avenger, the street was empty.
Wait, Avenger…
It didn’t matter, he was invincible! Nothing could stop him!
Several police officers unloaded from each car, pointlessly aiming their weapons at him.
“I would have thought that you’d learn that I’m unstoppable.” Jake said with a smirk, a holier than thou air to his voice.
“Go to hell.” Avenger boomed out to Powell.
“I’ll see you there.” Jake lifted his arm, revealing several lighters in his hand. At first, Ken wondered what the hell he was doing. It wasn’t until Ken noticed the plastic around the lighters melting as Jake threw them, that the possibility of Jake actually doing something dangerous occurred to him. The full realization hit as the lighters ignited into a giant fireball.
“Holy shit, computer, strafe right!” Ken shouted in shock, barely avoiding the fireball. It landed on top of the hood of a police car, although Ken wasn’t thinking about that.
Jake was only slightly surprised. He, however, did notice it land on the hood, and when it exploded, the force would certainly be enough to take out Avenger.
It was this preoccupation of the car exploding that stopped Jake from paying attention to Avenger himself. Which was why he did not see the experimental bullet hit him in the heart. And hence, was a bit surprised when not only did his chest turn tangible without him doing so on his own free will, but felt rather cold. The next chain of events was a blur for all the participants. All the officers were running away from the car, which Avenger had not noticed.
What Avenger had noticed, however, was the fact that he had just been thrown into Jake’s new armoured car by Magnet, who was watching from a distance before, being powerless to stop Powell. And after a couple seconds, Jake Powell noticed that he had a great number of bullets located in where the heart would have been located on a normal, non-altered human. Several gang members ran from the doorway and helped him into the car Avenger had been thrown against, driving off.
“What the hell just happened?” An officer stammered.
“Liquid nitrogen release bullets. Made his chest tangible.” Ken managed to say, the synthesizer eliminated the groans of pain from his voice.
“But why the hell’s he still alive?” Another officer questioned, although phased by the surrealness of the events that just occurred, still curious and uncaring about the two vigilantes.
“Oh, c’mon, like any genetic engineer wouldn’t place the heart somewhere else, to make him slightly less killable?” Another officer suggested.
“He’s got at least a clip of ammunition in him, I don’t think he’s going to be in any shape to cause trouble for a while.” Ken added, looking to Magnet. “Thanks.” And with that, he lifted off, heading home.
A snicker came from Magnet, “So, how believable do you think your report’s gonna be, officers?” She’d been practicing her voice, now sounding like a very convincing girl. She knew when to take her exit.
Magnet pulled herself onto a lamppost, swung onto the streetcar tracks, landing above them, and ‘skated’ away. She’d been practicing too, and now could exit pretty damn elegantly. An officer pointed this out, and was immediately smacked upside the head by his partner, who pointed out that she was at least half his age.
***
The next day at the arcade, Ken had no complaints about the story being covered on the TV with a far too loud volume.