Red Death

  #

  Jim and the others – who referred to themselves collectively as The Order – arrived in D.C. via their private jet.

  It was a cold, gray winter’s morning – frost covered the ground, the grass, the trees and the roads. As The Order headed from the airport to the Capitol in their long black limousine, early commuters drove along cautiously around them on the slick streets, and bundled-up pedestrians shuffled along the sidewalks.

  “So, remember,” said Brant, “as soon as the twins are in the Capitol building, we head over to the Pentagon and drop off Greta. Then we take Austin to the White House, and finally Anna, Jim and I will handle our end. Everybody ready?”

  Everyone affirmed with a telepathic “yes.”

  Except Jim.

  “What is it, Jim?” asked Anna. “You don’t feel ready?”

  “Of course not,” said Jim. “I’m about to go into battle against a bunch of super-powerful freaks bent on world domination, and I’m expected to utilize a ‘talent’ I only just learned I have. And the fate of human civilization hangs in the balance. No – no, I have to say I don’t really feel all that ready.”

  “None of us ever felt ready the first time we were called upon to defend justice, help the weak, or protect the interests of the free world,” said Austin. “We all had to learn this gig through on-the-job training. It’s no different for you.”

  “But this could mean the end of the world as we know it if I screw it up,” Jim said.

  “And it has ever been the case,” said Brant. “Perhaps this latest plan of theirs does have the most potential for damage – and the greatest opportunity for the Red Death to take control of the world, but things have seemed dire before. But now we are stronger than ever – we have you. And you, Dr. O’Connell, have us. Never forget that.”

  Jim stared at Brant, and his confidence swelled slightly.

  “Now come on, today is the day,” said Brant, cupping his hand on Jim’s soldier. “Let’s do this.”

  According to plan, the twins were dropped off at the Capitol, and then the rest at their designated locations. Brant, Anna, and Jim continued on to their destination: the Red Death’s own headquarters.

  “How did you guys find it?” asked Jim.

  “Nicole followed Dana Reed back from the White House last week,” said Anna.

  “When we get inside, we expect there to be little resistance,” said Brant, “because most of their team will be out implementing their plan this morning.”

  “Most?” asked Jim.

  “Yes. Their leader, Zeb Johnson, will probably be the only one there – running the whole operation. But he’s also the most powerful of the group. That’s where you come in, Jim.”

  “You want me to do my thing on him?”

  “Yes. Then we’ll take it from there,” said Brant. “Come on.”

  The three found their way into the large brick building, Anna picking the locks with her mind, and Brant mesmerizing the guards into instant stupors.

  In minutes, they reached the control room. Brant blasted the big double doors off their hinges with a shockwave from his mind. Inside, a man wearing a headset sat surrounded by a wall of computers.

  “About time,” said Zeb, without turning away from his multi-monitor display of key governmental facilities. “Or rather, just in time, to experience my new breakthrough.”

  He turned and fired a silent handheld weapon on Brant. The leader of The Order seemed unaffected. Then his face contorted into a shocked expression of anger and pain. “You’ve – you’ve taken away my powers!” he shouted.

  “No, just placed a dampening field around you,” said Zeb. “But the result is the same.” He suddenly turned it on Anna and fired, with the same effect. As he turned to Jim, Jim focused his mind on Zeb, and did the one thing he could do that no one else could.

  He froze Zeb in time.

  “Well done,” said Brant weakly. “You’ve done it.”

  Zeb stood like a statue, and his image gradually faded until he was a black shadow, a three-dimensional silhouette that reflected no light. A chill emanated from the darkened figure.

  “Wow,” said Anna. “That is amazing.”

  “It’s because even his electrons have stopped moving,” said Brant. “No movement, no heat, no light. A complete pausing of his physical being.”

  “And no synapses,” added Anna, “so he can’t use his mind against us.”

  “Now what?” asked Jim.

  “We’re going to be relying on you, Jim,” said Brant. “We’re out of commission until we can figure out how to reverse what Zeb’s done to us. Right now, we’re as useless as regular old humans.”

  “I was planning on using my ability to direct-interface with computers,” said Anna, “to turn the tech end of their plans inside out. We won’t have time to hack in manually, so you’re going to need to use your other talent, Jim.”

  “Vocal duplication?”

  “Yes,” said Brant. “Here’s Zeb’s backup headset. You’ll need to direct the operation as if you’re him. Don’t worry – we’ll tell you what to say.”

  Jim put on the headset and spoke in Zeb’s voice – a perfect vocal match. “Testing one, two. Is this thing on?”

  “We read you, Zeb,” came a voice over the headset.

  “Put the incoming audio on speaker,” whispered Brant.

  Jim flipped a switch and nodded. As Brant whispered instructions to him, he relayed them to the Red Death team as if he were their leader.

  “All right, listen up, team. I’ve had to make some changes to our plan. The Order has thrown us some curve balls I didn’t see coming. I need you each to stand down for now – and meet at Location-H. That’s Location-H. Understood?”

  Nicole had learned that Location-H was Red Death’s code name for a remote hideout in the Virginia countryside.

  Several voices came across the speaker in protest.

  “Just do as you’re told,” said Jim as Zeb. “This operation will only succeed if you do exactly as I say. Don’t forget I can see everything from here. There’s something going on and we need to regroup. Now get to Location-H. Now.”

  “Nice job,” whispered Anna. “That sounded just like Zeb – not just his voice, but his personality.”

  Jim smiled. Maybe this superhero stuff wasn’t so hard after all. He turned off his headset mic to speak to Anna.

  Two guards with machine guns burst through the control room doors and gunned down Anna where she stood. Brant dove behind a console, and Jim froze the guards in place. They quickly turned to dull black statues.

  “Anna!” Jim cried.

  “Oh no!” yelled Brant, scrambling up from the floor. “Their stupors must’ve worn off when Zeb put the dampening field around me!”

  “She’s dead!” yelled Jim. “She’s dead!”

  “Get a hold of yourself!” Brant scolded. “We still have a job to do here!”

  Jim scowled at Brant. “How long have you known her?”

  “Nearly thirty years,” said Brant, looking down at Anna with sad eyes.

  “Have you no feelings?”

  “We don’t have time for feelings right now, Doctor. If we don’t stop the Red Death, we’ll be counting Anna as one of the lucky ones.”

  “Very well,” said Jim with a scowl. “What’s next?”

  “You need to switch the audio signal output to frequency eight-two-nine point seven terahertz. That’s our own private satellite communications band. Then you need to give everyone on our team the go-ahead. They’ll know what to do.”

  Jim did as he was instructed and set the plan in motion.

  “Good,” said Brant. “Now verify that the Red Death has made it to Location-H.”

  “Isn’t that kind of quick for them to have traveled from their stations to the country?”

  “They have mobility technology that is light years ahead of the rest of civilization. It’s likely they’ve all
arrived already – check on them and see.”

  Jim scanned the control board for the transponder grid, and pulled the view up on the main monitor. “Yep, they’re all there,” he said, pointing at the six dots clustered around a satellite view of a small farm near a river. “What’s going to happen now?”

  “Just sit back and let the rest of The Order do their jobs,” said Brant.