Volume 8: Telophase
Issue 9: Operation Firestorm
Jannette Adrian Churchwell
By Nova
The helicopter rattled and shook as I felt it drop, spinning downwards with frightening speed. I clutched my harness tightly, trying my best not to imagine the helicopter smashing against the ground at a hundred miles per hour. The faces of my fellow passengers—at least the faces not hidden behind masks—were dour. The medics were pale and wide-eyed, while the soldiers fiddled with their rifles…
Those of us with powers were also visibly tense. Mr. Mystery clutched the brim of his top hat in his hands, crumpling it against his chest. Qilin, on the other hand, was nearly motionless—staring forward with an icy determination. Even Miasma seemed perturbed; she hadn’t said a word since the explosions started. Instead, she grabbed at the black cloak draped around her with her gloved hands. A tension hung in the air around us—one that the rattling machine couldn’t quite penetrate.
After all, we were deploying.
I glanced out the windows at the pitch black night outside. I couldn’t see anything; no stars, moon, anything save brief flashes of fire in the air and ground. In the moment the fire blossomed, it illuminated the ragged edge of the mountain valley into which we plummeted.
“Twenty seconds to drop!” the pilot’s voice crackled over the headset.
At this, Qilin rose from his seat across from me. With what I thought to be impossibly steady steps, he crossed the cabin—grabbing hold of the door frame as the helicopter shuddered again under what felt like a near miss.
“Looks like it is time,” he muttered, swinging the helicopter’s door open. Wind rushed into the cabin, but Qilin stood strong in the doorframe. “See you all on the ground,” he said, tearing off his headset. As he did, I saw the faintest of embers beginning to drip from his mouth.
And without further fanfare, he jumped. Qilin hurtled downward, and—just before he passed out of sight—I saw a huge, brilliant white-red jet of flame burst forth from him, striking the ground in an enormous inferno that illuminated the forest below us… and incinerated it with terrifying speed.
***
Me and Miasma rushed into the briefing room: a repurposed auditorium nearby the mammoth exhibit, which buzzed with the soft murmurs of a hundred quiet conversations. The room was full, but—as usual—most of the attendees had segregated themselves by profession. The military types stood in one corner, the IMAGO suits in the other… Heroes I recognized, along with a few I didn’t, bunched together in clusters while—on the other side of the room—I saw that Qilin and Miasma weren’t the only villains who’d come to put the First Way down.
I recognized a few of them from the news or prior encounters. Magni and Modi—both wearing identical viking costumes—from the Wolfpack sat together, though everyone gave them a wide berth. I found it hilarious that they were here, given I’d busted the Wolfpack goons supplying the First Way’s powerchem operation just a few months ago. Maybe Ragnarok was just desperate to disassociate the Wolfpack from the First Way.
While Collegiate and Hellfire couldn’t look more different—the former wearing a paramilitary getup while the latter looked like a flaming demon—their reasons for being here were probably the same since they’d always run pretty respectable operations… At least, as respectable as an indie villain could be. They were most likely looking to eliminate the First Way as a dangerous variable in their plans. The Los Reales bosses were also here, but likely for more… emotional reasons. Kingmaker—in his golden armor—sat between Relámpago, Breakdown, and his lieutenants—glaring at anyone who looked at him for more than a few seconds. They undoubtedly wanted revenge for the First Way’s invasion of their turf all those months ago.
And, in the center of the group of villains, sat Qilin. He stared stoically forward, ignoring the attempts of conversation from some villain I didn’t recognize behind him. I had no idea what he was doing here… and I rather suspected I didn’t want to find out.
Wordlessly, Miasma split off from me, floating toward the villain side of the room. As strange as she was, I guess she still thought it best to follow the unspoken rules.
I turned and scanned the hero side of the room for Ripple. My eyes drifted over faces familiar and unfamiliar… including a few like Wasabi—who seemed to still be wearing the same t-shirt that I last saw him in— I hadn’t expected to show up for this final battle.
I was also surprised to see that Dynacrew had made an appearence… I hadn’t heard much about them since our falling out. Renard shot me a sullen glance through the vulpine eyes of his mask, as the other three stared straight ahead—pretending like I wasn’t even there. Good. In between healing patients and preparing for what was to come, I had no intention of dealing with them more than I had to.
Asteria was present as well, alongside a whole cohort of Starlight heroes ripped straight from their publicity photos. As my eyes drifted along the sea of masks and costumes, they came to a stop on a pair of pure white wings. Seraph stood in the back corner of the auditorium, staring straight back at me.
A chill ran down my spine as I locked eyes with her Moments passed between us. Did she want something from me? What? Revenge for standing up for myself?
She was the one to look away.
I sighed, trying not to let my relief show. I kept scanning for Ripple until I spotted her sitting near the back of the room, next to Archean. The two were engaged in rapid, hushed conversation—and didn’t look away from each other as I approached.
“…she’s crazier than when we last faced her… How many years ago?” Ripple said as I took a seat next to her. At that, she appeared to finally notice me. “Oh, Stitch, how’s Holly?” she asked.
I blushed as I thought back to the kiss I’d shared with her less than ten minutes ago. “G-good,” I stammered. “Hopefully she can get back home soon…” I turned to Archean. “Thanks again for letting us find her,” I said to him.
“I’m just happy it all worked out!” he said, “Especially since you took out Tracy without causing lasting damage.”
“T-Tracy?” I asked.
Ripple shook her head, smiling slightly. “He means that T-rex you knocked out. Still, glad to hear that Holly’s okay.” Ripple motioned to the auditorium stage below us. “You haven’t missed much. Olstien hasn’t deigned to show his face yet.”
My gaze drifted to the huge, empty stage. “I heard from Qilin that they’re planning something big… Is that true?”
“Qilin?” Ripple asked, slightly alarmed. “You met with him?”
“N-No,” I stammered. “O-Or, not really at least… he paid me a visit in the field hospital. Apparently he wanted to say hi to one of the Chapel students?”
“Disturbing…” Ripple muttered.
I nodded. “Couldn’t agree more… but still, is it true we’re attacking Red Queen?”
“If it is…” Archean said, choosing his words carefully, “my bosses either don’t know, or haven’t informed me. No matter what, IMAGO’s dedicated to resolving this current crisis.” He sounded like he was reading off a cue card.
Ripple seemed to agree with my assessment, shaking her head, slightly, as Archean gave his spiel. “They wouldn’t have called this meeting if they weren’t planning something big…” Ripple interjected, “I’m sure we’ll-”
A sudden hush fell over the crowd as a man took the stage. “Ah, there he is…” Ripple murmured.
“Alright everyone,” General Olstien shouted, his ruddy face seemed even more lined than when I had seen him less than a day ago. Even as he entered the large, empty space of the stage, his figure remained surprisingly imposing. “I’m going to make this quick and clean. We’re destroying the First Way tonight, and—if I don’t get Red Queen’s head by sunrise—then it’ll be your heads that are gonna roll. Do we understand each other?”
A tense silence entered the auditorium as Olstien’s eyes swept over each and every one of us. His words weren’t just the usual bravado, but a warning to a room full of heroes and villains with scores to settle. A warning that the military settled disagreements with live ammunition.
And, judging by the uncomfortable shifting I saw around me, it was working. Despite the threat, I marveled at the ability of a baseliner like Olstien to dominate a room of incredibly powerful people.
“Good,” Olstien said, once he’d looked at each of us. “Let’s get to it then.” The screen on the wall behind him suddenly flickered on. It now displayed a satellite image of some mountain valley. “This,” Olstien declared, “appears to be the center of the First Way’s operations in this region. It’s a valley about twenty-five miles north of us, and more than ten miles in any direction from anything resembling civilization. Nobody lives here, which is why it’s strange our satellites and drones have seen more than fifty vehicles enter and exit the valley over the past forty-eight hours using the same dirt access road. We believe the First Way has established some kind of hideout here, and thermal scans of the area suggest it may be quite extensive.
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“We’ve already confirmed that there are First Way here. Elements of the eleventh army, alongside the Californian National Guard, have surrounded the valley and reported guerrilla resistance from First Way militia, and—in one case—from a powered enforcer identified as ‘Sharkbait.’ The next step will be storming the valley, destroying any resistance we find, and decapitating the First Way leadership.” Olstien paused for a moment, turning his gaze toward the map behind him. I caught a glint of something predatory in his eyes, before they turned back to us, as stern as ever. “Let us begin Operation Firestorm.”
The screen behind Olstien flickered again, and three red Xs fell into place over the valley. “Since the First Way is sure to have trapped the access road, those of you in our Alpha, Bravo, and Lambda squads will deploy at these LZs, likely under heavy enemy fire. Your advance will be covered with a coordinated air strike, but we anticipate significant resistance from the First Way’s surviving powered enforcers.” A blue X appeared south of the three red Xs. “Our Delta squads will deploy here and establish an FOB and field hospital. This needs to be a rapid operation, which is why I have assigned Qilin to LZ clearance…”
***
The swirling inferno below us consumed the forest. Trees fell in an instant, devoured by the white-hot flame. Then, all at once, the blaze halted. Like watching a video in reverse, the flames surged backwards, broiling to a central point and fading in intensity—from the blinding white to a dulling red, then disappearing into the deep black night entirely.
Again, the helicopter lurched downward. The pilot’s voice crackled over the headset, “Ten seconds!” I shut my eyes and braced for landing.
With a final, shuddering fall that pushed me into my harness, the helicopter touched down. The doors to the cabin swung open, and—in a rush—we all scrambled into the smokey nighttime air. My feet pounded into a still warm, ashy soil, crunching chunks of charred wood with every step. A medic, hefting a large crate, pushed past me—shouting something about clearing the landing zone—but I could barely hear him over the thunder of the helicopter blades.
Mr. Mystery gave me a slight bow before turning and running toward the opposite direction of the medic, clutching his tophat to his head the entire time. I felt gloved hands grab my arm. “We need to move!” Miasma shouted, pulling me along. She pointed up in the air and I could just barely make out another helicopter descending toward us in the night sky.
“O-Okay!” I shouted back, stumbling along with Miasma. Behind us, the helicopter roared back into the air—showering us in soot—only to be replaced by another landing helicopter. “Let’s wait here!” I shouted, once we reached what must have been the edge of the landing zone. Around us, medics dropped their crates while soldiers scanned the charred treeline for distant signs of movement. A few threw down burning red flares, tossing them to the far corners of the ashen clearing.
“There’s the man of the hour…” Miasma muttered, barely audible over the roar of the helicopters. I followed her gaze and saw—illuminated in the red glow of the flares—Qilin. He stumbled slightly as he walked toward us, almost like he was drunk. “Guess that blast took a lot out of him…”
Qilin reached us in a few moments. “Miasma,” he breathed, the exhaustion evident in his voice. “Make yourself useful…”
I heard Miasma make a sound, like she had some clever retort planned but cut it short. She must have thought better of it because, instead, green smoke seeped forth from her beak-like mask. It flowed over me and Qilin, immersing us in a fog of green that immediately energized me like a shot of pure caffeine. “Much better,” Qilin said. “I’m glad to see you have some uses.”
The smoke dissipated almost as quickly as it appeared. Around us, medics scrambled with new supplies delivered by the most recent helicopter—which had already lifted off to be replaced by yet another. A few medics worked to set up a tent, undoubtedly predicting incoming casualties, while others pulled a generator into place. Hopefully we’d have some light to work with soon…
As if to answer my request, a series of bright flashes lit up the rough walls of the mountain valley, quickly followed by the deep reverberating booms of explosions and the roar of jet engines overhead. “The battle is joined…” Qilin muttered, striding away from us without another word.
I watched him disappear into the forest, passing out of the red glow of the flares and into the shadows. I realized that, over the roar of the helicopters, I could hear gunfire, explosions, and the crackle of unfamiliar powers in the distance. The battle had indeed started…
Around us, the medics worked fast. Floodlights flashed on, illuminating the black, ashen clearing in which we stood. More and more tents had been erected, and soldiers now scrambled to set up defensive positions. They heaped sandbags on top of each other to provide cover for machine guns and other weapons that could maybe stop one of the First Way’s enforcers if they came our direction. Ammo crates were now being separated from the crates of medical supplies, which I couldn’t help but notice didn’t include surgical supplies.
The military really was putting all their eggs in one basket… There’d be no saving any wounded without Miasma or myself.
And thus we waited, ready to spring into action as we’d planned. In the distance, the battle continued to rage. A soft red glow could now be seen on the horizon. A wildfire perhaps? Undoubtedly started by the airstrike from earlier… Or maybe Qilin had gotten to the battle quicker than I expected.
A booming crash from the center of the field hospital signaled the arrival of our first patient. Ripple emerged from a cloud of ash, cradling a familiar, bloody body. “Reef,” she shouted, hurrying to me and Miasma. Reef’s pink skin was torn to shreds, like it had been sliced a hundred times by an impossibly sharp scalpel. Her blood, also tinted pink, spilled everywhere—coating the front of Ripple’s black, skin tight suit. “Red Queen rushed Dynacrew out of nowhere… smashed through a rock wall like it was nothing. Earthstrike’s dead-”
“N-No time!” I shouted, trying not to dwell on Ripple’s report. “I-I’ll get to work on her…”
***
“As I understand it,” Olstien continued, “the two healers we have present are Miasma and Stitch.”
I squirmed in my seat, momentarily uncomfortable as a hundred eyes flicked over to me then back to Olstien. “Thanks to them, we have battlefield triage options that greatly exceed our normal operational capabilities. We will have our most mobile powered assets in our Alpha and Delta squads deliver casualties to them in our FOB. The healers will resuscitate, mend, and re-energize the wounded, allowing them to immediately return to the battlefield.”
Olstien paused for a moment, and a slight smirk formed on his face. “That way, we’ll keep a constant stream of pressure up on the bastards. The First Way won’t know what hit them.”
***
Inside one of the tents, Ripple laid Reef down on a stretcher. Behind us, I heard the a swooshing sound. “Where’s, like, Stitch?” a gravelly voice shouted.
Wasabi entered with a new patient. I heard the shuffling of feet as medics took the wounded from him, pulling the bleeding body onto a stretcher. Then, they carried the wounded to another tent, where they could keep whoever it was alive for long enough for me and Miamsa to get to them.
But, for now, we had to deal with the patient in front of us. Reef lay on the stretcher, gasping for breath. Inspecting her wounds closely, I could see that her flesh was trying to knit itself back together, like it was composed of a million tiny tentacles that were reaching to meet. However, the damage was extensive, and—whatever limited healing ability Reef had—it likely wasn’t going to save her. At least not anytime soon…
I laid a hand on her chest. My power rushed through her. Her biology was slightly abnormal—which wasn’t too unusual to find in powered people—but still familiar enough for me to get to work. I sealed the wounds, and started repairing her myriad of damaged organs. Around me, Miasma’s green smoke flowed, reenergizing both Reef and myself. In a few moments, Reef’s eyes fluttered open, and the last of her wounds sealed up. She looked up at me, eyes wide. “W-what happened? Where are the others? I remember… Earthstri-”
“No time,” I muttered, turning to Ripple. “I’m moving on. She’s all yours.” Without waiting for a response from either Ripple or Reef, I strode to the next tent—Miasma in tow. Behind me, I heard Ripple softly muttering to Reef—something about getting back in the fight.
I was glad therapy wasn’t in my job description.
Wasabi stood by the next tent. “Hey, Stitch, how’s it-” he started, but I cut him off.
“W-Working,” I muttered, trying to avoid meeting his gaze. He stood for a whole host of bad memories I had no intention of revisiting. I entered the next tent to see a gaggle of medics standing over the mutilated body of a soldier. I could tell that, even with a proper life-support suite, he wouldn’t last much longer. I turned to Miasma. “We need to act fast,” I said.
And we did. We kept up the pace, rushing through wounded after wounded as a stream of casualties were delivered to us by Ripple, Wasabi, and a few others—including a teleporting villain from Fresno I didn’t know. Time moved by in a blur, the sound of the raging battle outside being the only sign there was an outside world. And, despite the casualties, it sounded like we were winning. From the snippets I caught from my patients, almost all the First Way baseliner militia were dead. And—other than Red Queen who’d apparently disappeared—most of the powered enforcers were, too: Dogman, Hammerhead, Barracuda, Darkspore, Drillbit, plus a bunch of unknown powered people who were probably the result of powerchems. Dead, dead, dead…
***
“I want to be clear,” Olstien said, his voice taking an even rougher edge if it were possible. “The President has declared the First Way a Leviathan class threat. Every member of that organization has already been tried and found guilty of crimes against humanity. They’re already dead so you bleeding heart types,”—he looked toward us on the hero side of the room—“need to remember that. Anyone you spare, or go easy on—just because you want to capture them—is someone we have to babysit. If Firestorm is to be successful, we’ll need everyone to treat the enemy appropriately.”
An uncomfortable silence washed over the room. After all, everyone knew heroes didn’t kill people. Of course, that was actually a lie. Heroes didn’t murder people, or intentionally kill people at least. Collateral damage was almost unavoidable sometimes. It was always unfortunate, even when it happened to criminals or villains. When it happened to civilians, it was beyond tragic.
But as terrible as “collateral damage” was, murder was different. And that was what Olstien was asking us to do. While I never got the chance to swear the hippocratic oath, I still tried to live by its principles in what limited ways I could as a hero. That meant no murder, even if I was fighting a truly vile person. I didn’t know if I was truly capable of murder. Could I be the one to make the choice to pull a trigger? To end another human life?
As we filed out of the briefing room, to rest up before we were deployed that night, I was just glad I wouldn’t be in the position to make that decision.
***
Me and Miasma had just finished working on another wounded soldier, who shakily rose to his feet muttering thanks, when a panicked voice crackled over his radio. “Red Queen’s been spotted, engaged with Asteria and on the-”
I didn’t need to hear the rest. A bright flash of violet light shone through the opening to the tent. I shot a wide-eyed look at Miasma, and—without a word—we were on the move. We emerged from the tent just in time to see Asteria, hanging high in the sky. She fired a lance of violet energy into the forest in front of us, which left a trail of burning trees in its wake.
And her target was clear. In the shadowy nighttime murk of the forest ahead, I saw a glimmering red light rushing toward us, smashing through whatever trees were in its path.
Red Queen was coming to us to make her final stand.