A Thought
The question ‘what brought us here’ is long and winding and often treacherous.
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Prologue
‘To preserve is to destroy,’ that is what she taught me. With her lesson, a proof: that love is the most powerful force on our planet, and therefore the most destructive. And The Destroyer went by many names, but I first knew her as Sabra.
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PART I
ASCLEPION
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CHAPTER 1 - LEOPARD
Twenty-nine years before, at the apex of the vaunted Golden Age, six of the world’s greatest empowered had decided to turn the most inaccessible spot in the world into a paradise. United by some grand design, they had drawn an island from the ocean floor and chiseled it into an example for the world to follow—a beacon for mankind’s transcendental future.
But tonight, staring at the distant skyline, all Leopard saw was a monument to hubris.
History had proven the old saying correct, had etched it across the world in fire and ash—pride always went before a fall. With such a combination of awe-inspiring arrogance and ability, Leopard wasn’t sure why no one saw it coming. By the time the world was in freefall, no one was in any position to stop it.
The end of the world had kicked off one year after the beacon had been lit. Leopard wondered if such a turn was ironic, or inevitable. When the new gods had realized that their beacon illuminated nothing but the violent floor rising to meet them, did they do anything to stop it, or did they let it come?
“Hey, kid,” Tiger said. “You good?”
Leopard’s mind snapped back to the present.
“Yeah.”
Sitting across from him, Tiger’s pale face was twisted in a scrappy, crooked smirk. The overcast moonlight left her little more than a shadow, catching on the lines of her ballistic vest and the edges of her shotgun.
“You sure?” Her voice was a smoky rasp. “You had this look on your face like you’re the smartest man alive. Which, trust me, you’re not.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, as their skiff clipped another whitecap. “Just seasick.”
“You and me both,” Snake said, further back and staring at her boots. But she was telling the truth, and he wasn’t.
Tiger glanced back, at the others. “If we fucking die because you didn’t work seasickness into your master plan, kid, I’m going to be a bit mad.”
Leopard grinned. “Only a bit?”
“Just a bit.” It was a potent threat. Of all the Animals, Tiger led the pack in two statistics: number of people killed, and years alive. And she was dead set on maintaining both leads for as long as possible. She’d kill him if she had to. But that was fine—at least she was honest.
“Anyway,” Tiger said, glancing back at Snake. “If you’re going to puke, that’s fine—just be sure you get it on Rooster. Wouldn’t mind a laugh.”
“Hey,” Rooster said. “Man, fuck you. Do that, and I’ll cut the engine.”
“Oh, you don’t have the balls.”
“Shut it,” Leopard said, more to Rooster than her. “We’ve only got one shot at this. If any single one of us fucks this up, then all of Asclepion’s going to come down on our heads. So, shut up and focus.”
Their target was a dark shape on the horizon, pinpointed by green and red running lights. The Poseidon Adriatic was a cargo hauler that was old enough to have been renamed during the Golden Age. But whatever its history, tonight it was nothing but an obstacle. The true target was whatever it was carrying.
Leopard didn’t know what. Monkey had said they’d know it when they saw it, and Leopard was pretty sure that was about all he’d gotten from their employer, too. The Animals had been chasing the package since Acatjula, had narrowly missed it at the seaport. Now, the last chance to intercept it was just short of its destination—Asclepion.
“If they come down on our heads,” Tiger said, “I’ll be saying ‘I told you so’ before they turn us into paste.”
“Monkey has a plan,” Leopard replied. It’d made sense when he and Monkey had come up with it, seemed solid. But out here in the dark, with Monkey back on the shore playing watchdog, it was feeling brittle.
“It’ll work,” he continued. “And if things go bad, then just remember the first rule of fighting a cape.”
Snake groaned. “We know, we know,” she said. “‘You don’t.’ The two of you keep saying that.”
Leopard bit down on the flash of irritation. That was the problem with the newbies—Snake and Rooster. They didn’t get it, didn’t understand the cause. They’d been Animals for a year, but he and Monkey had been fighting the IESA for a decade. Whatever Monkey saw in the two of them, Leopard didn’t see it.
The Poseidon Adriatic grew larger by the second. Leopard checked his rifle and tightened his ballistic vest. His heart was steady, and he wasn’t nervous. Rooster often talked about how the anticipation made him nervous. It wasn’t something Leopard had ever understood—the plan would work, or it wouldn’t. What would happen, would happen.
He reached up and toggled the mic at his collar. “Monkey, we’re about to make contact. Rooster, take us out wide—get us behind the ship.”
A single click came back, affirmative from the shore watchman. Back in the city, Monkey was keeping lookout and coordinating with their mysterious employer. It was unlikely that anyone would pick up on their transmissions, but it was still a risk. Nothing was more secure than silence.
But the whole job was built on risk. Monkey had assured him that the Adriatic’s radar would not pick up something as small as a skiff, and the freighter’s old diesel engine made more than enough noise to disguise their approach. The crew wasn’t an issue, either. There’d be maybe a dozen people onboard, double that at the absolute worst, with a few handguns and stun batons between them—if that.
Nothing for the four Animals to be concerned about, with their automatic weapons, explosives and body armor. It wasn’t the risk of violence that was the problem, but the possibility of getting screwed by random chance. If a crew member just so happened to walk the deck that night and glance in their direction, then that would be that. But they’d stacked the deck the best they could. Random chance didn’t mean much if you stacked the deck. That was what Monkey always said, and he hadn’t led them wrong yet.
Yet.
“It’ll work,” Leopard murmured. “It’ll work.”
The Adriatic loomed before them now. It was like they were chasing down a great leviathan, a slumbering beast that was one wrong whisper away from waking. Leopard shut up and held his breath lest it hear him. It was a stupid thought—he was allowing himself to get jittery. And if you got jittery, Monkey said, then you died.
“Masks on,” Leopard said, pulling it down and over his face. The visor came to life with a timer—five minutes. If Monkey told them they had incoming, that was about the time they had to get out before the storm hit.
His team followed suit, throwing thumbs-up to him one by one. When Leopard spoke again, it was with a mechanical growl: “Tiger, go.”
She stood up and readied her grappling hook, hurled it towards the deck of the Adriatic above. It caught and Tiger tugged at it, tested it, and leapt free of the skiff. She scaled the hull like she had done it before. Maybe she had. Not for the first time, Leopard found himself thinking of a lioness deigning to play with the cubs.
“What do we do if this doesn’t work?” Snake asked. “I can’t swim very well.”
“Die, probably,” Rooster said.
“Shut up,” Leopard snapped, eyes on Tiger. “It’ll work. We’ll make it work.”
Tiger vanished over the railing. Leopard waited but heard nothing but the sea—no alarms, no shouting, no gunfire. So far, he thought, so good. Tiger appeared again, tossed the rope ladder down and, one by one, the rest of the Animals ascended, clambering over the railing. Leopard brought his rifle up, swept his rifle across the deck and up the superstructure—still nothing.
It was almost too easy. Almost.
“Tiger, with me. Rooster, Snake—you’re on the engine room. Remember, no casualties.”
The team split. With Tiger on point, the pair of them climbed the superstructure slowly, carefully. Stealth was more important than speed. All it would take was one distress call—complete or otherwise—to scrub the mission and bring their careers to a permanent end.
They approached the door to the bridge, staying low. Leopard stepped past Tiger, brought his rifle up, and kicked it in. “Get on the ground!” he shouted.“All of you, get on the fucking ground!”
It was like the bridge crew didn’t get what was happening. Four men and women in total who just flinched back and paused. The Captain, mug in his hand, stood stock still. Here was the crucial moment—where some might scream, some would freeze up, and some would fight.
“I said get on the ground!” Leopard barked. “Do it! Do it now!”
That got through to them. The civilians raised their hands and put them on their heads, dropping to their knees. He cased them with his eyes, looking for the signs of someone wanting to play hero—momentary hesitation, smoldering glares. Didn’t find any. Good.
Leopard advanced across the bridge, aiming at each member of the crew. No one made any sudden moves, and not one of them was armed. Not that it mattered. People always hesitated to kill, but animals didn’t. That, Leopard knew, was why they would always win.
“You,” Leopard said, pointing to the Captain. “Stand up.”
He did so.
“What’s your name?”
“Driscoll.”
“Driscoll,” Leopard said, and waited a beat. “Listen to me like your life depends on it. At this moment, my people are taking the engine room. If you do everything I say, then you and your crew will not be harmed. I give you my word.”
Driscoll didn’t reply immediately. Leopard watched him think it over—it was like he could see the thought processes playing out over the man’s pock-marked features. He wasn’t empowered or anything, he just had a particular knack. One that had been sharpened, honed, and polished by years of needing to know who was a threat and who wasn’t.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Okay,” Driscoll said. “Then let’s all remain calm. What can we do for you?”
“You’re going into the lifeboat.”
“What?”
“Shut up. You’ll abandon your ship or die with it. My associate here has enough phasmite to blow this ship in half.”
Driscoll’s eyes widened. It took him three seconds to find his words—Leopard counted. “What? Why on Earth would you—”
“Maybe I just really don’t like boats,” Tiger said, shrugging.
“But we don’t have enough lifeboats. It’s not just my crew. We’re on a humanitarian mission—”
“Bullshit,” Leopard said, frowning.
“It’s not—”
Leopard beat Driscoll with the butt of his rifle, hard enough to put him on the ground. Someone screamed. He watched the man moan and roll over, blinking away the shock. It was like he had never been hit before, and that he hadn’t really expected to be hit, either. What a stupid display of defiance.
“Enough,” Leopard said. “Tiger, go below and set the charges.” As she did, he pointed to the closest member of the crew. “You—pick up your Captain and take him to the lifeboat. That,” he said, indicating Driscoll with a cant of his chin, “was a freebie. Any more resistance and you’ll find out how much I charge.”
The crewman helped Driscoll up. His brown eyes radiated anger but Leopard met them evenly. He marched the four members of the crew out of the bridge, guided them towards the lifeboat at the back of the vessel. Rooster was already there, ensuring that they didn’t even think about using the radios. With Tiger planting the charges, that left Snake to find the package, and Leopard to make sure everything went as planned.
He returned to the bridge. Soon, they’d fake a distress call and send the ship to the bottom of the South Pacific, leaving behind nothing but wreckage and survivors. Just as planned.
Tiger’s voice crackled in his ear.
“Hey, kid,” she said. “Not sure how to put this, but we’ve hit a bit of a snag in the demolition plan.”
Leopard frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re probably not gonna want to go through with this.”
“Why?”
“Because he wasn’t kidding, kid—this ship’s packed full of refugees.”
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Leopard took the steps down into the belly of the leviathan two at a time, swearing to himself under his breath.
Of course the ship was packed full of refugees—of course it was! Short of there being a full SOLAR team onboard, the ship having a bunch of extra people hidden away was just about the worst thing that could happen.
The plan depended on secrecy. You hijack the cargo and blow the ship and buy yourself time to get away with the prize before anyone figures out what happened. You make sure the crew don’t call for help and, more importantly, that they have no idea why you’re there. If no one died, then it was likely that IESA would let the whole thing blow over.
They’d ignore piracy, if only because the superheroes had better things to deal with. But they’d never ignore a goddamn massacre.
He found Tiger at the bulkhead door that led into one of the Adriatic’s cavernous holds. Glancing past her, he picked out forms and faces lit by electric lamps. A dozen, two, three. More, and that was in only one of the four holds.
“Shit,” Leopard murmured. “Fuck.”
Tiger shrugged. “Still down for it, if we’re being honest.”
“Wait. I’ll call it in. See what Monkey says.”
“Alright,” she replied. “Suit yourself.”
Leopard stepped back into the stairwell and triggered his mic. “Monkey, we’ve got a problem.”
“I’m here. Talk me through it, man.”
Something kindled behind his sternum—frustration, anger. “The intel was off,” Leopard replied, and that warmth flared. “The ship’s got a hold full of fucking refugees, man. Men, women—even kids!”
It took Monkey a moment to reply. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was.”
“Okay. Are the charges set?”
“What?”
“Spots, are the charges set?”
“Not yet,” Leopard replied, confused.
“Do you have the package?”
“No,” he said. “I mean, Snake’s on it as we speak.”
“Then keep going. Don’t get distracted, buddy.”
“Distracted? I’m not distracted. If we blow this ship, then we’re killing a lot of innocent people.”
Another moment. Monkey sighed. “Spots, we have so much riding on this.”
“And if the capes start fishing bodies out of the water then we’re fucking dead. That’ll get SOLAR on us and we’ll lose everything. Monkey, we have to abort.”
Silence from the other end of the line. Leopard could imagine Monkey pacing, just as he was. This was Monkey’s job, but he’d trusted Leopard to carry it out. They were a team but, right now, this was his call.
“Goddamnit,” Monkey said. “Goddamnit. I hate it when you’re right, Spots, but when you’re right, you’re right. Look, give me a minute or two to bring it up with the boss.”
“You’ve got it,” Leopard said. “Thanks.” He cut the line, clenched his fists, and brought his anger under control. It was just a snag. Just a little snag. They’d cut through it, the same way they always did. Nothing had gone wrong yet.
Yet.
Monkey’s voice buzzed in his ear. “He’s not going for it, Spots. You have to continue.”
“What?”
“He’s adamant that we continue—”
“I’m adamant he can go fuck himself. Who even is he?”
“Spots—”
A third voice cut over Monkey’s reply. “Enough.”
It was clear, crisp and precisely enunciated. And not one Leopard had ever heard before.
“Let me make one thing absolutely clear, little hou. You will complete this task. You will complete it as agreed upon. You will complete it, or you shall face the consequences of your lack of capability. See to is that it is carried out immediately. Your compliance is not optional.”
Silence. Leopard spoke first.
“Monkey, just who the fuck do you have us working for?”
Monkey let out a breath. “I’ll explain later.” He sounded almost shaken, but it passed in a moment. “You have to trust me on this, man. We can’t back out on this. This job will make us legends, but we have to see through to the end.”
“But all these people,” Leopard said. “There’s too many to move. If we push them, they’ll overwhelm us.”
“These people,” Monkey replied, “are a blessing in disguise.”
“What?”
“Our employer doesn’t care about the people, Spots, or the ship. All he wants is to ensure that IESA can’t trace any of this back to him. So blow the ship. If they’re in the holds, then put the charges in the engine room—hell, it’ll help the cover story. Don’t worry, diesel doesn’t ignite easily.”
“But—”
“And when you broadcast the distress call, be sure to mention the women and children,” Monkey continued, powering on. “The ship won’t sink in five minutes. And every minute they spend helping these people is a minute they’re not looking for us. They’ll be too busy saving the refugees to care about the ship or what it’s carrying. By the time they do, we’ll be half the world away. But we need our employer to get you off that ship.”
Leopard shut his eyes, sighed. Monkey sounded so certain, but his thoughts were spinning out in all directions. There were so many things that could go wrong. The ship could sink too quickly. Asclepion could take too long to respond. Monkey had never been good with numbers. Leopard’s fingers tingled.
“Spots,” Monkey said. “I know how you’re feeling, but there’s no other choice. At this moment, it’s them or us.”
Leopard banged the back of his head against the bulkhead wall. Them or us. To the ends of the world and back again, Monkey had once said. Them or us. It wasn’t a decision at all.
“You’re right,” Leopard said. “We’ll proceed.”
“Good work, buddy. I’m proud of you.”
The line clicked dead. Leopard stepped out of the stairwell and tapped Tiger on the shoulder.
“Change of plans. Go find Snake and help her with our objective. I’ll set the charges.”
“You sure? I mean, I’m happy to do it.”
“I’m sure.”
Tiger shrugged, passed him her pack of explosive material, and vanished up the stairs. Leopard hefted the pack and turned, heading for the engine room. Whatever was going to happen, would happen. But he’d be the one to pull the trigger.
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The engine room stank of diesel and oil. As Leopard marched through it, he cast his eyes over pipes and machinery, expecting someone to come rushing out, weapon in hand, violence on their lips. Old notches worn into his brain, synapses aching to fire: survive or die, survive or die. But his heart remained steady, relaxed.
Still, he felt like he was being watched.
“Charges in place,” Leopard said. “Snake, have you got the package?”
“Yes, but—”
“Meet me on the bridge and prepare for extraction.”
He was halfway to the bridge when he got hit by a freight train, crushed against the bulkhead wall.
Blows rained down upon him, his rifle clattering away. One of the fists struck his vest, blunting the attack, buying Leopard a moment to kick out, shove his assailant back, and draw himself up.
The man who’d struck him had the darkest skin Leopard had ever seen and a large build that suggested muscle under a veneer of fat. He wore a jacket with a flag patched over the breast pocket.
Sudan, Leopard thought. One of the countries that no longer existed. A member of the crew who had hidden in the engine room? Had to be.
“My friend,” the old man said, an accent that matched the flag. “You don’t have to do this. No one has to die tonight. Put your weapons down, please, and sit with me until the authorities arrive.”
“One person will die if you don’t get out of my way.”
“I won’t let you kill these people,” he said. “They have suffered enough!”
That fire behind Leopard’s sternum brightened. His scalp was crawling and his fingers were tingling again. It was like he was aware of his body once more. It was like he was alive. It was like he was in the freefall, and the violent floor was rising to meet him.
He let it come.
Leopard charged, and the man surged to meet him. They crashed together and the man grabbed him like a bear, hurling him against the wall. Leopard bounced off it, snarling, and nailed him on the jaw with a wild cross, caught a jab to the nose in return.
With his mask, it was more the kinetic shock than the pain that left Leopard stumbling, blood bubbling in his nostrils. This guy was a scrapper and, with weird, atavistic awareness, Leopard knew that he had come here to kill him. Someone was calling his name, buzzing in his ear, but the only thing that existed was the man in front of him.
They clashed again. Leopard struck him in the nose, felt the sick pleasure of cartilage crumpling under his fist, and then hurled back to nail him with a haymaker. The man kicked out, and there was the one-two of shock as his knee buckled and relief as it held. But it was enough for the man to grab him by the shoulders, draw his head back, and hammer him with his forehead.
Leopard went down. Rolled to the side as the man reached for him, managed to tear the mask from his face. The hard edge caught on his cheek, split it open. Leopard hurled himself backward and leapt to his feet. It’d been a long time since someone had pressed him like this. It felt good.
The big man stood in the corridor and let Leopard’s mask drop. “By Allah,” he said, green eyes wide. “You’re just a kid.”
Leopard wiped his bleeding nose against his gloves. Ran his tongue around his teeth and found them all still there.
Good. It was always a good fight when you kept your teeth. Leopard caught sight of his rifle, a few meters beyond his opponent.
“But then again,” the dark-skinned man said, “So was I.” He took a step back, and Leopard drew his handgun.
“Don’t think about it,” he said. “I’m leaving. Do as I say, and you’ll live.”
“I am because they are,” the man said, and stepped back, and Leopard shot him in the chest.
The man staggered back, crashing against the bulkhead wall. Leopard watched him, his breathing as steady as his aim. “Stay down.”
His opponent sagged down the wall, red blooming across his shirt. Then, he cried out with a prayer or a scream or both, and launched himself for Leopard’s rifle.
Leopard emptied his magazine, feathering the trigger again and again, until his handgun did nothing but click empty. The old man jerked with each hit, spasming and shuddering like he was in the grip of a seizing puppeteer, and collapsed into a heap against the wall.
The fire dimmed. His breathing, Leopard realized, was harsh and heavy. His blood, Leopard tasted, was warm and dribbling into his mouth. The world, it seemed, had gone askew. He felt like a god—an angry god. Part man and part animal, spitting fire and fury. His opponent moaned softly.
The world was spinning away from him. He was crashing, or he had a concussion, or he was actually, finally seasick. There was blood all over his gloves, and his gun was so heavy in his hand. He couldn’t think. He had to think. Why the fuck, he thought, through the haze, didn’t you just walk away?
“Leopard!” Tiger snapped in his ear. “Goddamnit, kid! Where the fuck are you?”
“Copy,” Leopard said, and hated how shaken he sounded. “I’m here. Ran into some trouble.” He scooped up his mask and his rifle and stepped over the old man’s body. He’d made his choice, and that was that. Wasn’t his fault. “I’m on my way out.”
He met the Animals on the deck. “Where’s your mask?” Rooster asked, holding a matte black footlocker.
“Shut the fuck up,” Leopard said. “Snake, send the distress call and I’ll detonate the charges.”
As Snake got on the radio and put on a performance, he called to Monkey. “We’re ready for extraction—get us out of here.”
Silence, and it held for one beat, two. Leopard glanced to the distant skyline. No.
“Change of plans, Spots,” Monkey said. “The boss can’t teleport you guys out. He says there’s some interference.”
“What?”
“Straight from his mouth to me to you. I think we pissed him off earlier and he’s throwing his weight around. He suggests you find another way off the ship, and quickly.”
“We haven’t come this far to get fucked by someone’s ego, Monkey!” Leopard roared. “Get us off this fucking ship—now!”
“Jesus, Spots, okay, okay. Let me think, let me think.” Monkey paused. “Asclepion—make for Asclepion.”
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“Are you? Get it together, Spots! They’ll be on the ship in minutes. It’ll be hours, maybe even days, for them to find us in the city. So, get the fuck out of there and we’ll figure out the next step once we’re somewhere safe. Fuck our employer and fuck this job.”
And Leopard nodded, felt something like relief. Monkey always came through in the end. He always did.
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Once they were clear, the skiff speeding across the ocean towards the dubious safety of Asclepion, Leopard primed the detonator and, staring at the Poseidon Adriatic, hit the trigger.
It was a slight flash in the night, there and gone. A detonation that’d sell the lie of mechanical failure, even if only for a short while. After the initial burst, it was like he hadn’t done anything at all. He tossed the detonator overboard.
“Holy shit,” Rooster said, and laughed. “We did it. We fucking did it.”
Leopard glanced towards the front of the skiff, where Snake sat with their bounty. Its matte black surfaces were broken up by hazard markings and emblazoned with the silver nsoromma-and-wreath of the United Nations’ International Empowered Security Agency.
She saw him looking. “Better be worth it, Leopard.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, turning to look again at the stricken Adriatic. “Better be.”
The ship was meaningless. But the people? Their faces came to him in flashes and, again and again, the image of the old man in the corridor, lying in a pool of his own blood. That he had shot and left to die. All the people he had terrified and the one he had surely killed.
Leopard kept his eyes on the Adriatic as it receded away behind them. He tried to find some relief, some satisfaction, some anything. But nothing came. Reality had reasserted itself. He glanced back to their prize. It didn’t make him feel better. It didn’t make him feel anything at all.
This, Leopard thought, is not how legends begin.