Black Spade
Plan A, B, C, up to Z, continuing to the Sumerian cuneiforms, Black Spade had a plan for every plausible eventuality, including their base coming under attack. But he never imagined a giant doggy mascot showing up out of thin air like his pesky relatives when his wealthy father died. How was he supposed to consider this improbable scenario? What plan could he pull out of his bag of tricks to save their base that March Hare entrusted to him?
To make matters worse, Vanessa told him this doggy was a true Adumbrae.
Not only that…
“Better be fucking sure this is the same Adumbrae that destroyed Eve,” Black Spade spat at Vanessa. His tone was far from respectful for talking to an Adumbrae.
If March Hare were here, he’d smack the back of Black Spade’s head for his impropriety. But the stress of the situation was getting to Black Spade, the likelihood of losing another base—this time, their actual headquarters—weighing heavily on his mind. And he never respected anyone from Mark’s organization, human or Adumbrae, including the asshole Mark himself.
Vanessa didn’t take issue with Black Spade’s raised voice or how he addressed her, unlike other Adumbrae primadonnas who thought of themselves as demigods. She calmly answered, “I’m certain of it. I was there that night, the same night the BID raided Eve. In the end, the BID decided to—”
“To overload their Greaves Reactors to bring the whole place down,” Black Spade completed through gritted teeth. “Yeah, yeah, everyone knows that.”
Only the top BID people had Greaves Reactors—the top of the fricking top. And they couldn’t get rid of one Adumbrae! One! It spoke of how big a headache this giant doggy was that the BID caused a mini-nuke explosion under a densely populated city, killing dozens as collateral damage, in a desperate bid to kill it—which failed.
How in the Mother Core’s ass did this overgrown mutt get here?
Black Spade swept away the dead body slumped over the controls. His fingers flew over the keys slick with red blood, operating the security cameras. It wasn’t as if he was utterly clueless about what to do. There was Plan CF for when their base was completely fucked, and they had to abandon it. Black Spade hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but if it did, they’d evacuate and save as much as possible.
“Geely, can you hear me? Plan CF, got it?” Black Spade called his men on the intercoms, instructing them what to do.
“Sir, what about the hostages and those smelly—”
“Are those part of Plan CF? Huh? Do you want me to Plan CF again while our base is fucked doggy style?”
“No, sir! I’ll get right on it!”
“You do that.” Black Spade paused for a few seconds, chewing his tongue while pondering the Supplier’s reaction. March Hare was meeting the Supplier right now. But what could they do in this situation? Available information indicated that they couldn’t stop the giant doggy. Black Spade might be eccentric, but he wasn’t delusional.
Next order on the menu was buying as much time as possible for Plan CF.
“Excavation team?” Black Spade checked if he was broadcasted on the correct speaker. “Wake up, you idiots!”
“Sir, reporting here, sir!” replied the foreman of the workers for base expansion. “The alarms and shit, we dun’ know—”
“Shut up and listen to me,” Black Spade barked at the microphone. “Set up demolition charges along tunnels TA-1 to TA-3C. We’re going to cut off Sector A.”
“Dun’ think we have enough explosives, sir. The construction needs—”
“Fuck the construction! Transfer the demolition charges to TA-1 up to TA-3C, got it? If that’s not enough, use your eyes to look for more. You’re not a child. Take the initiative. How long you reckon it’ll take?”
“About an hour?”
“Wrong answer!”
“Uh, forty—”
“You have twenty minutes. Don’t need anything fancy. After running the lines, dump all other explosives there.”
Collapsing Sector A on top of the giant doggy might be enough to delay it, though doggies were known for being good diggers. It had to do! Twenty minutes… Black Spade knew the store that sells twenty minutes. The problem was that the only currency accepted was lives, which was okay with him so long as it wasn’t his own.
“You see that giant doggy?” Black Spade called the head of the mercenaries guarding the base. Technically, the man Black Spade was talking to was already the third in the line of command, the previous two heads already in the doggy’s stomach. “Bait it into Storage A-1! Do whatever you can!”
Black Spade then directed the formation of defenses at Storage A-1, calling up everything they could muster on short notice—the Eights Squad, their augmented spider team, their activated combat drones, and even the prototype electroshock cylocannons. But these weren’t enough to buy twenty minutes at the store.
He dialed up the discount coupons.
“Hardy? Hardy?” Static replied. Black Spade frowned. Hardy, the hairy, serial chest displayer, should be somewhere in their base. Did that musclehead go ahead and stupidly die on his own? If only Red Head were here—the short-tempered, animalistic Adumbrae was trustworthy in comparison. “Hardy, you idiot! Are you there?”
“BS, relax,” Hardy finally replied. “I know what’s going on. And don’t ya’ call me an idiot, ya’ magenta-wearing peacock bullshit!”
Black Spade held a clenched metal fist over the coms but exerted enough self-control not to smash it. It wasn’t the time for a tantrum. “Hardy, you need to head over to Storage A-1. We’ll draw the enemy there. If everyone works together—”
“I’ll get Renais, and we’ll break that enemy to pieces, alrighty!”
“No, listen to me! You should head—”
“Sit tight, BS. Let the big boys deal with this, yeah?” And then there was static.
“The exact opposite of splendid!” Black Spade dramatically cried out, raising his hands to the heavens. “Do Adumbrae get pea-brains filled with concentrated ego after losing their humanity?” He looked over his shoulder. “Not you, Vanessa, dear. You’ve been an absolute darling, the nicest of the bunch I’ve met.”
“Uh, thanks?” Vanessa was strangely calm. “What do we do next? Should we escape? What’s that plan you were mentioning?”
“We’ll escape later,” Black Spade said. “Before that, we need to find the helpers of our doggy friend. A dog can’t get in the house unless somebody lets it in.”
From the giant doggy pissing their base to destruction, the main screen changed to show captives escaping their cages. Finlay’s poor-quality wares, supposed to be on guard duty, were failing the guarding part. A short but well-built man smashed them to bits, unfazed by the bullets riddling his body. Only after he destroyed the last clay puppet did he drop to his knees, blood pooling beneath him.
“What do we have here?” Black Spade mumbled.
He crawled to a woman lying on the ground—probably dead, caught by the earlier crossfire—and laid his hands on her. It wasn’t clear from the camera’s angle, but the woman’s body appeared to shrivel, her clothes flattening. Then the man stood up, instantly well again. Not a human.
Sucking up flesh and bone—Black Spade had seen that ability in action before. “Those blasted clowns are here!” he furiously pointed at the screen.
“Do you know this person?” Vanessa asked.
“He and his buddies attacked us before,” Black Spade said. He briefly explained his suspicions that rivals of the Supplier sent them. These clowns went after the Mad Hatter, at the same time leaking the location to the BID. A three-way fight ensued, resulting in Mad Hatter’s death. “If we’re going to get technical, our old boss killed himself not to get captured, though they were the ultimate cause of it.”
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“Is he with the werewolf Adumbrae?”
“You tell me!” Black Spade said.
“I haven’t seen him before. The werewolf was alone when… he… when he attacked Eve.”
“Bah! Doesn’t matter if they’re allies or they just led the stray doggy here.” Black Spade returned to scanning the cameras. “There should be other clowns crawling around. That man came from the cages. He stayed there, blending with other hostages until somebody released them. The same somebody who killed my men”—he gestured to the violently mauled corpses in the control room—“and took Legba too. Did you see who it was?”
“A blonde woman,” Vanessa said. “She ran away after I came across them. I had no clue what was happening with the blaring alarms, so I decided to protect Legba instead of chasing her. We can ask Legba.”
“Not worth the bother. Haven’t seen that antique prune do anything besides wave his bell.” A sliver of Black Spade’s mind distrusted Legba. With teleportation powers, the midget old man could’ve been the way the doggy entered their base. Black Spade should be careful not to let his suspicion show.
“I’m sure of the blonde woman part,” Vanessa said. “She’s quite tall, uh, long hair, and—”
“I know who you’re talking about,” Black Spade said. The metal lady at the convention center who ruined Plan A had a blonde friend tagging along. He stopped scrolling through the camera feeds, zeroing in on a woman tearing electrical wirings in the power room. A couple of dead guys with smashed heads were at her feet.
“That’s her!” Vanessa said.
“So many clowns clowning around,” Black Spade grumbled. “We need a clown-repellant spray.” This was the same woman who fought Red Head. She survived. On the other hand, where was Red Head? The last time Black Spade saw Red Head was before the explosions preceding the police assault on the Greaves convention center.
If blondie was here, did that mean Red Head was dead? Blondie was like darling Vanessa over here—no longer human. Black Spade twirled his mustache. He rarely did this because it felt too cliché, though it calmed him down and helped him concentrate.
Priorities, priorities… They had to delay the giant doggy. They also had to stop the two superhumans from wreaking havoc while evacuations were ongoing. Blondie released only the hostages, not the monsters—she wasn’t using the hostages as a distraction but intended to save them. So why was she working with the giant doggy?
A destroyed base meant dead hostages.
Were they not working together?
That didn’t matter. One thing was certain—they had to direct all their troops to tame the giant doggy. As for blondie and her friend, as much as Black Spade wanted revenge on them for Mad Hatter’s death, now wasn’t the time. Black Spade had to neutralize them somehow without diverting their forces.
If you clowns want to save people that much, I’ll make your dreams come true. Black Spade released the monsters created by the stinky slugs.
“What are you doing?” Vanessa said.
“Distracting our enemies,” Black Spade. “We’re going to lose everything here anyway.”
“Yow, Sleeveless Magenta,” said a bored voice behind them. “What’s going—? Oh, looks like a bad time.” Euphonia was by the doorway, clicking her mechanical claws.
“For the last time, the name’s Black Spade.” He narrowed his eyes. Could he trust her? No. But did she have a part in this mess? That was a different question. “Also, yes, this is a bad time.”
“You should wear something black to—”
“Black Spade!” Crocker shoved Euphonia out of the way and rushed to the monitors. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Hell is going on right now,” he said, gesturing to the videos of the ongoing battles in their base. “We have to evacuate. Plan CF. We’re now shifting to delaying tactics—”
“No! We’re not leaving this place!”
“Are you going to fight this thing?” Black Spade enlarged the video feed of the giant doggy entering Storage A-1. “Be my guest. If you lose, I’ll have everything prepared.”
“Where’s Renais and Hardy?”
“They’re going to pet the mutt. You’re welcome to join them.” All these self-entitled, nose-in-the-air, elitist twats who thought they were better than humans could all die together. What if he buried Crocker along with the doggy?
“You’re going to come with us.” Crocker grabbed his arm.
“What? I’m going to direct the evacuation!” Black Spade tried to pull away.
The tattoos on Crocker’s arm began to glow an angry red. “You’re going to direct squat!” she said. “Everyone’s going to fight, that’s what I say.”
“March Hare put me in charge,” Black Spade countered, trying to sound calm despite the anger inside him.
“Look what’s fucking happening with you in charge.”
“You bitch…” He thought of activating the electroshock weapon in his arm. But, assuming he’d win, disabling Crocker meant one less body to throw at the doggy. No, he shouldn’t fight. He was going with her and stroke her ego so she’d jump in, thinking she had a chance of winning. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”
“Everyone’s coming with me!” Crocker barked.
“I’m not included in that ‘everyone,’” Euphonia said. “I’ll sit right here and enjoy the show.”
“You traitor—”
“Traitor? Our agreement was limited to the Greaves convention center.”
“We’ll pay you! Name your price.”
“No, thank you. I had a long night.” Euphonia’s eyes glowed red, hinting a dare at Crocker to strike first.
Crocker grunted in resignation. She looked at Legba. The old man hadn’t moved an inch since Vanessa placed him on a chair. Crocker shook her head. Next, she turned to Vanessa. “How about you, pretty girl? Going to fight or hang back?”
Black Spade raised a brow. Vanessa would surely refuse. She knew how strong their enemy was and wanted to stay as far as possible. Mark’s people would also love to see the Tea Party destroyed. That dratted Finlay must’ve already left them.
But Black Spade was wrong with his assumption of Vanessa.
“I’m going,” she said. “I want to see this Adumbrae again.”
----------------------------------------
Vanessa Minnows
Is this still Erind?
A mountain of muscle and fur emerged through the clouds of dust from a tunnel that collapsed, shrugging off slabs of rocks. “HRWAOOORH!” The mighty roar made Vanessa and the others involuntarily step back.
Vanessa felt the hair behind her neck stand. Her heart pounded like she had a caffeine high. The mouth familiars living inside her right arm chattered and stirred, banging against the metal bands keeping them in place. Vanessa breathed slowly and tried to calm herself. If she got agitated, her familiars became rabid.
She focused on Erind, the giant werewolf.
Erind chased the combat drones rolling away. Vanessa noticed Erind had a lopsided gait—her left hindleg was a bloody ice-covered stump. This must be Renais’ handiwork. Vanessa didn’t know anything about Renais other than she had ice powers.
“Renais got the wolf!” Crocker cheered. “She told me her powers could stop an Adumbrae’s regeneration. This is the first time I’ve seen it in action.”
“Got?” Black Spade said. “Can barely consider that as ‘got.’ Where’s Renais anyway?”
“Huh, I don’t know. She should be here…”
“But she’s not,” Black Spade said, his grim tone echoing what they were all thinking. “I know where Hardy is.”
“Help! Help!” A hoarse voice pleaded through the drone of gunfire and strings of explosions. “Help me!”
Vanessa noticed only now that Erind had captured Hardy. His head poked up the side of Erind’s car-sized fist. Hardy was still alive, screaming as blood gushed from his mouth and nose. Erind brought Hardy to her mouth, opened her hand, and munched.
“Yearggh!” Hardy yelled. “Just fucking kill me!”
Vanessa couldn’t take it. She placed her hands on her ears and turned away.
Through her familiar, Vanessa had seen Erind’s colossal werewolf form eat people at Eve’s underground arena, but she couldn’t handle seeing it with her own eyes.
Brutal. Terrifying. Different from Erind in her original body. This must be the Adumbrae taking over whenever she transformed.
Or… this was Erind’s true self all along.
In that case, Vanessa must accept it. She and Erind were the same. They were monsters. No reason to pretend they were still humans. Vanessa took a deep breath and faced Erind, half hoping she was done eating.
“Hardy’s still alive!” Crocker said.
Erind lowered her hand, still holding Hardy’s body. He continued screaming for help.
“The mutt isn’t finishing him off,” Black Spade said. “But why? Hey… the frozen leg! It’s regrowing its leg! You said Renais can stop regeneration?”
“It-it must’ve worn off,” Crocker stammered.
“Must be connected with Hardy and why the mutt isn’t swallowing him whole,” Black Spade said. “We should figure out the powers of our enemy first before—”
“We’re going to attack!” Crocker said. “Order the drones to soften up the werewolf.”
“Will you be able to take it on?” Black Spade asked. “Hardy’s down for the count. I’m not sure how much stronger you are compared to—”
“I can do it,” Crocker smugly said. “But we’ll save Hardy first. Vanessa, you attack from the left. I go from the right. Black Spade, you aim for the wrist of the hand holding Hardy. Got it?”
Vanessa nodded as she unlocked the metal bands on her right arm. She didn’t know why she was doing this, but she wanted to… hurt Erind… even for a bit.
Erind wouldn’t mind, would she? After all, Vanessa pretended she was on the Tea Party’s side.
Just a tiny bite.
Crocker’s tattoos came to life as tendrils of fire. “Let’s fucking go!”