12. The Omicron Incident – In Pursuit

 ”The target is fleeing, repeat, the target is fleeing!”  Rook screamed into his collar radio.  He drove like a madman down the street, attempting to catch up with the black car.  Fortunately he had been foresighted enough to put a homing beacon under the rear bumper when he discovered the car earlier in the day.

            The target had a head start on him:  Rook had observed the by-the-book entrance on the balcony, only to be followed by two hurtling, unconscious bodies a moment later.  He had radioed for assistance while gunning the car’s engine, and driving down the levels of the multi-story garage.  By the time he reached the street, the suspect had fled the apartment for the waiting car, and it was turning the corner.

            They didn’t know Rook was after them, specifically.  So long as he followed using the beacon, driving down a parallel street, they might never suspect they were being pursued.  And he had allies.

            “Ops to Rook, come in.”  His ear-radio said.

            “Rook here.  Awaiting orders.”

            “Let them run.  We need to know if there are accomplices.  We have scrambled Red Squad in a Vulture, and sent in a retrieval team to bring in your squad.”

            “Thank you, sir.”  Rook told the disembodied voice gratefully.  He turned several corners, zigzagging through early morning traffic.  One irate driver honked at him.

            He watched the glowing dot representing his target on the monitor on his dashboard, weaving through city streets on the map.  He was closing the distance, but Rook was worried that they might abandon the car.  He wheeled around a corner, his tires screaming as he came right behind the target.

            “ETA on that Vulture, Ops!?” He hollered.

            “They’re right above you.”  Came the response.  “You’re doing fine, agent.”

            He pushed his long dark hair away from his face, gritting his teeth.  He stayed two car lengths behind the black vehicle, trying not to look like he was following them.  The car was no longer driving recklessly; they seemed to have assumed that they had evaded pursuit.  Well, they were in for a surprise. 

            And it was a “they” after all, as Rook could make out at least three people in the car ahead of him.  He watched as they parked at the side of the street.  Rook carefully drove past them and pulled around the corner.  He parked and got out, walking around the corner with his hands in his jacket pockets.  Unlike the rest of his team, Rook had dressed casually in case anyone had seen him sitting in the car in combat gear.

            He saw three people walking away from the parked car towards the subway entrance.  It looked like two young women and a man.  Rook checked his watch and saw that it was six in the morning.  The trains were just starting.

            “Target is entering subway system.  Please advise.”  He said to the air very quietly.

            “Keep within visual range.  Report exit point.  Do not lose them.”

            Rook followed down the stairs.

11. The Omicron Incident – Retrieval Operation

 The operation began at five in the morning.  Shift entered the building easily, a deft lock-pick.  Hawk and Jabberwocky descended from the roof, rappelling down the side of the building.  Rook watched with night vision binoculars from his car, parked in the adjacent garage.

            Shift was opening the door to the suspect’s apartment just as Jabberwocky was cutting a hole in the glass of the sliding balcony door.  He put his hand through the hole and unlocked the door, gaining entrance.  Hawk gestured, telling them both to head for the nearest bedroom door.  Shift moved towards the second door from the opposite side of the room while Jabberwocky approached the first.  Hawk provided cover with his silenced pistol, moving to stand by the couch so he could watch both doors.

            Jabberwocky and Shift grabbed the doorknobs of their target doors at the same time.  As they prepared to enter, a dark shadow dropped from the ceiling to land between them.  Jabberwocky received a kick to the mid-section that sent him sprawling back towards the glass doors.  Shift was promptly grabbed and tossed in his direction with such force that they collided and flew through the window together, crumpling against the metal railing of the balcony.  Glass shards fell like rain, tinkling and clattering.

            Hawk fired his weapon at nothing, as the shadow swiftly moved to appear at his side.  He got one good look, seeing a diamond pattern in the centre of a face with glowing blue eyes.  Then the target broke his arm as he turned to fire, and Hawk was hurled through the door and into the apartment building’s hallway, leaving a sizable dent in the far wall.  He slumped to the ground surrounded by splintered wood, and drifted into darkness.

            When he awoke in the Project infirmary, the situation had become much worse.

10. The Omicron Incident – Mission Briefing

Shade sat at his immense desk, studying the notes his department heads had forwarded to him.  He looked at everything, trying to find the missing piece of the puzzle.  Shade had to find him.  He had to.  He slammed the desk with his fists in frustration.

            “Sir, are you busy?” Mullen asked from the doorway.  “Your secretary has gone home.”

            Shade looked around.  The sun had set quite some time ago, the city sparkled with lights in the darkness.

            “Come in, Mullen.  What can I do for you?”

            “It’s what Ops can do for you, sir.  We found some new data.”

            “Do tell.”  He gestured to a chair and she sat.

            “It has been two days since the incident.  In another seven hours it will have been three days.  In that time, fourteen cars matching our composite image have passed the site.  Thirteen of them have checked out.”

            “And the fourteenth?”

            “The address at the DMV for that car’s license plate belongs to a family in Jersey.  Our operatives checked, and they own a mini-van.  No other vehicles are registered there, and none have parked at their residence in the past twenty-four hours.”

            “False plates.  Someone doesn’t want to be found.”  Shade smiled.

            “Yes, sir.  They were there.”

            “Find that car.  They aren’t likely to have changed it yet, they probably don’t think we’re looking for them.”  Shade stood up, looking out at the streets below.  “Now we’ve got him.  Once they’ve been located, send in a Rapier squad.  See if the new footage from the other security cameras indicates where they went.”

            “Yes sir!”

***

That night they initiated a retrieval operation.  Shade led the briefing of the Rapier elite.  Three squads were gathered:  Blue, Red and Black.  Twelve operatives sat at the black table as the director presented the plans.

            “We have spent the past two days tracking this vehicle via security cameras along city streets.  Analysis showed that the most likely ending point for the vehicle was either this parking garage or this apartment building.”

            Pictures flashed up on the monitors of the black car and the buildings in question.  A highlighted map of the route the cameras indicated was also displayed.

            “Agent Rook investigated this afternoon,” Shade gestured towards a member of the Blue Squad, a young man with dark hair.  “He found the vehicle in the apartment’s garage.  We now know our quarry is in apartment 12F.  Had they been more sophisticated prey then by now they would have changed cars, or parked elsewhere and traveled home from there.  Thankfully, we are dealing with amateurs.”

            A series of soft chuckles went around the table.

            “Nevertheless, given the severity of the damage at the Omicron building, we are treating this as a national emergency.  I don’t care if the culprit is injured.  He is dangerous, even if their team is amateurish.  A weapon in the hands of the unskilled can be more dangerous than in the hands of an expert.  Use caution, and bring them in.”

            “What’s the plan?”  Hawk asked.  He was the Blue Squad leader.  He was slender, athletic, with a light brown brush-cut.

            “Blue Squad is initiating the operation.  Shift will enter from the front door of the building, infiltrate the apartment from the front door.  Jabberwocky and Hawk will drop from the roof, entering from the balcony.  Rook will observe from the roof of the parking garage with a car.”

            “Why not block off the apartment garage?”  Hawk asked.  “They have a car, after all.”

            “Yes, but we are hoping to flush out whomever is helping the suspect.  If Blue Squad does successfully capture our culprit then we can interrogate him.  But if he runs, we can capture all of them tonight.  Red Squad will be on stand-by.  Black Squad will only be necessary if things get out of hand.”

            “Works for me.” Chainsaw said.  He was on Black Squad, a huge bear of a man with short blond hair and a goatee.  His arms were covered in tattoos.  “I can stay in, play cards and get some sleep while you punks enjoy your night on a cold roof.”

            “Thanks for that,” Shift threw a balled up sheet of paper at his head.  She was the only female member of the team present, with her dark hair in a ponytail.

            “Let’s get to it, people.”  Shade said.

9. The Omicron Incident – Breakfast Meeting

 The next morning Shade stood on the sidewalk, staring at a virtually empty lot.  His shadow spread onto the lot, as black as his suit.  Police tape surrounded the scene.  Samaritan Project scientists surveyed the rubble with an array of equipment.

            “A jumble of stray bricks.  A few shards of broken glass.  Powdery dust.”  He said to the darker shadow behind him, Damon Ball.  “It’s as if the building didn’t just explode:  it was vaporized.”

            Damon Ball was Shade’s personal bodyguard.  He had ebony skin and was perhaps seven feet tall, and over three hundred pounds, Ball intimidated just by showing up.  Shade turned from the scene, looking up and down the street.  He turned again to Ball.

            “So much for telling Talbot we’re searching the wreckage.  Unless he’s three inches tall, he’s not in there. The energy output must have been incredible.  And expertly controlled.  The other buildings weren’t even singed.  He survived this.”

            Ball looked at him, tilting his head and asking a question with his eyes.

            “Think about it.  He vaporizes an entire building, explodes a helicopter, cripples a Sabre team.  But no one dies.  He puts them into stasis and prevents serious harm.  That’s control.”

            Ball nodded.  They walked back to their car.  Shade opened the door, pressing his hand against the frame. 

            “I want him found.”

***

Talbot Crandall sat on the patio of the finest restaurant in town.  Sunlight streamed in through the ivy on the trellises and arbours that made it look like a private garden.  A waiter led Nicholas Shade to his table, dressed in an elegant suit in his customary black. 

            Crandall nodded and Shade sat down.  To an untrained observer it would look like an innocent lunch, but the waiter and every customer on the patio were government agents.  These men left nothing to chance if they could help it.

            “Hello, Nick.”  Talbot said.  He unfolded a napkin for his lap as the waiter brought them menus.

            “Good day, sir.”  Shade answered.  “Thank you for meeting me.” They perused the menus and ordered.

            “Excellent selections, gentlemen.”  The waiter said, leaving with the menus.  Shade nodded at Crandall after this prearranged signal.

            “We’re scrambled.”

            “Excellent.  Now, what the hell is going on?  And why are we meeting here?”

            “I have sensitive data about yesterday’s incident.  However, our best projections suggest that someone on the inside helped bring this event about.  Whether FBI, CIA, the Project or another department:  someone smuggled our enemy inside the country.  I’d prefer to keep this information as private as possible.  I’ve handpicked these men.”

“Fair enough.  So what do we know?”

“From automated sensors at the facility and a scan of the site, we’ve determined that the explosion was caused by an individual’s bio-energies.  My intelligence section believes that our borders have been compromised and a new terrorist cell has infiltrated the country with abilities to rival our Patriot team.”

            Talbot Crandall glared at him.

            “How is that possible?”

            “That’s an unknown at this time, sir.  My Rapier agents overseas have detected no evidence of such a program within our enemies’ capabilities.  Whomever may be behind this attack is operating in secret and using private funds.”

            “So, they’ve drawn first blood.  They may have started this, but I want us to finish it.  Find them.  Do we know where this first terrorist is?”
            “We suspect that the building’s collapse may have killed him.  Unless this mystery individual could survive an explosion and falling off a building.”

            “I hope excavation crews are looking for his body.”  Shade answered this sally with a nod.  “But, until it is found, I want your teams searching.”

            “They’re already on it, sir.  However, I do think that the current crisis has exposed our program’s shortcomings.  Perhaps it’s time to request more funding.”

Food was delivered over the course of the conversation.  Ever efficient, both men ate around their responses, listening as they chewed.  Talbot finished what was in his mouth and wiped with a napkin before speaking.

“This is the Samaritan Project’s first real challenge.  We have successfully expelled all other enemy cells from our borders, and have their home countries trembling in fear.  The squad is world-renowned.  The success of the project has made it impossible to go to the President with your request.  For one thing, we don’t have proof of this new threat.  For another, the world believes Paragon and his team are unbeatable.”

Shade watched Crandall carefully as he pointed his index finger for emphasis.

“You use everything you have and find them.  Wipe them out.  If we don’t have enough firepower, I’ll twist the President’s arm.  But only if there’s a real threat.  Am I understood?”
            “Absolutely, sir.”

“Good.  Now shut up and enjoy your meal.”

8. The Omicron Incident – Operations Centre

 ”…city officials will not confirm reports.  Citizens across the city are panicking, however, worried that their homes could be next.”

            It was 0900 hours in the briefing room; sublevel 2 of the Samaritan Facility.  A collection of department heads gathered, led by Nicholas Shade.  They sat around a large black oval table with small personal computer screens.  Outside a large bulletproof window was a balcony overlooking a busy operations centre.

            “What do we have, people?” Shade asked.  He was standing in his characteristic pose, hands behind his back, pacing.  He muted the various television monitors on the walls, cutting off news commentators.

            “We obtained security camera footage from several surrounding buildings this morning.”  Lester Crawford answered.  He was one of the Project’s public relations people.  “We sent them over to the Ops Centre for analysis.”

            “My people have been working on the films,” said June Mullen, an Ops shift supervisor.  “We isolated the time period from 0200 to the incident at 0317, and then continued viewing the next hour.  Police arrived on the scene at 0400.”

            “And?” Shade asked.

            “There were nineteen vehicles in that time span.  There is an ATM machine with a camera inside the lobby of the bank next door to the east and a security camera in the building to the west.  The majority of vehicles pass between the three buildings within six seconds, based on these two cameras.  One vehicle took three minutes.”

            Mullen pushed a button on her computer and everyone’s monitors showed an image of a dark, four-door car.  The footage was black and white, so colour was indeterminate.  The license plate could not be seen because of the angles involved.

            “That’s our vehicle.”  Shade said, pleased.  “They stopped and picked him up.”

            “We used the various angles of the cameras to compose a computer model.  We’re comparing the design of the car with DMV records.  Lack of a license plate or colour will slow identification, but we’re narrowing things down.”  June finished.

            “Nice work.  Next, Crawford, I want you to obtain more footage from surrounding blocks.  See if you can narrow down the direction this car took.  Mullen, provide a Rapier team with the composite picture and have them do surveillance at the site.  He might return to the scene of the crime.”

            “Already on it, sir.”  She smiled.

***

“We have a car matching the computer image.  Third one today.”  A man sub-vocalized, standing in line for the ATM.

            “I have the visual.”  A second man said, selling hot dogs on the corner across the street.  “This one is black in colour, license plate to follow.”

            “Roger that.  Transmit to Ops for DMV cross-referencing.  Let’s see if we can get an address.”  A man said from an apartment in the next building, watching the street with binoculars.

            “Should we engage?” A cab driver asked, circling the block.

            “No.  We can follow up using the address and watch to see if they return.  Too many variables.”  The hot dog vendor answered.  “Return to standby.”

            They each returned to surveying the street.  The man at the bank visited a few stores, always close to a window.  They tracked eight vehicles that day that could possibly be the one from the video.  Ops processed the data overnight.

7. The Omicron Incident – Healing

 The news was playing on a television set.

            “The explosion took place late last night.  Officials are still trying to piece together events, with no word yet on the cause.  There has been a great deal of speculation about what could cause an entire building to collapse while leaving no traces of fire. 

            “Unidentified eyewitnesses claim that a blue light, like lightning, flared from the top of the structure seconds before the explosion, but city officials will not confirm reports.”

            The television was abruptly cut off.

            A young woman with short blonde hair and a serious expression put the remote control back on the living room table.  She stood slowly and walked to the open doorway behind the couch.

            “They don’t have any footage.”  She said.  “And I doubt the police know anything.”

            “I don’t think that the police will be looking for him.”  Another woman emerged from the dim interior of the next room.  She had wavy black hair down her back, and deep, wistful eyes.  “The people who did this to him are a lot more dangerous than the police.”

            The blonde nodded.  “Then they won’t just assume he died in the explosion.  They’ll come looking for him eventually.”

            “I think he’ll surprise them.  Remember how we found him?  Bleeding, broken bones…”

            “Yeah?”

            “Come see.”

            They entered the bedroom as unobtrusively as possible.  A young man lay sprawled on the bed, sweating and occasionally moaning.  His skin showed only a few purple bruises, which were fading before their eyes.

6. The Omicron Incident – The Patriot team

 They were the PATRIOTs:  Powered Anti-Terrorist Response for Intelligence Operations and Tactics.  They captured terrorists, won wars, and had video games and action figures.

            Paragon was the first, and the leader.  He was bigger now, enhanced to have tremendous strength and speed.  He was extremely durable and healed amazingly fast.  He still wore his Marine-style blond crew cut.  His face was lined with age, as he was in his forties.  But he oozed power and charm.  He wore the red, white and blue proudly.

            Apex and Zenith were twins, wearing red and dark blue respectively.  They were physically the same, except for Zenith’s longer hairstyle.  Their powers were also identical:  surrounded by a mental energy field, whatever they touched could be manipulated telekinetically.  Essentially, their powers made them appear extremely strong and bulletproof, when in reality they used their minds to move objects and repel attacks.  They could fly themselves, or anything they carried, but not distant objects.

            Their sister Summit was nearly the opposite:  her telekinesis was fine-tuned for separate objects, indicated by her stunt with the bullets.  However, she had no physical power:  bullets she didn’t stop in mid-air could hurt her, her hands exerted normal physical force.  But she could crash jet planes using her mind alone, which her team-mates could never dream of.  She wore a white uniform with red and blue trim.

            Individually they were impressive.  Together, they seemed unbeatable.  The entire world either loved or feared them.

            But they wouldn’t be enough.

5. The Omicron Incident – Conference Call

 The team returned to the American military base and were immediately swarmed by the press.  Used to this response, Paragon took the lead, opening his arms in greeting.

            “Ladies and gentlemen, the Patriots have returned victorious!” He said warmly.  He was interrupted by a flurry of questions.

            “Do you know who’s behind it?”

            “Any comment about the Omicron building?”

            “Has Director Shade recalled you to the States?”

            “Any fears of a new terrorist attack?”

            “Have you heard about the explosion?”

            Apex looked at his brother, who shrugged and asked Summit a question with his eyes.  She glanced towards their leader, who looked stupefied.

            “Explosion?” He asked the reporters.

***

Footage played on a monitor:  a still photograph of the Omicron building followed by the vacant lot now in its place.  Director Shade appeared.

            “This is what we know:  Late last night, or early this morning, depending on how you look at it, the building was destroyed.  Eyewitnesses claim a blue flash of light ignited the top of the building before the collapse.  We believe that it imploded, as there was no residual damage to surrounding buildings.  The lack of physical evidence suggests that either an energy weapon was used, or the bio-energies of an individual.”

            “You mean like us.”  Zenith said.  “Someone has powers, like us.”

            “That is one theory.”  Shade agreed via satellite.

            “There’s no one like us!” Zenith almost snapped.

            “So we believed.”

            “Hold on, you said it could also be a weapon?” Summit asked.

            “It’s possible.  We have our Rapier teams on the case.  If it is a weapon, we need to locate it and destroy it.  If it is a person, it is more than likely that they were killed in the ensuing destruction.”

            “Likely.”  Paragon said.  “But we don’t know for sure yet.”

            “No.”

            “Do you want us to come back to the States?” Apex asked.

            “Not yet.  We don’t know what we’re dealing with and we don’t have a target for you.  You are vital to the success of the Iraq mission.  Keep up the good work.  We have the Sabre team in case of emergencies, and you can always come back later if needed.”

            “Vital?  How much longer do we need to stay in this dump?” Zenith asked, bristling.  “We captured the general today, and brought in Saddam months ago.”

            “The insurrection has not ended, and likely will not until his trial is concluded.  We need to stay put.” Paragon said.  “We have our orders.”

4. The Omicron Incident – Desert Tactics

 Meet Apex.  He’s about to be run over by a tank. 

Or so it would seem.  Like a juggernaut, the massive vehicle rolled towards the young man.  Its thick treads churned up dust from the desert floor in clouds.  Its mighty cannon faced forward, but they never intended to use it.  Not when their target was standing so conveniently still, apparently frozen by fear.  They planned to just run him over. 

            Why else would he just stand there, other than sheer terror, a deer in headlights?  His face, lit up by the hot sun, gave away nothing but his youth.  His golden hair ruffled in the wind, the only movement.  He didn’t even twitch as the tank rolled closer, just inches away.  Apex was as still as a statue of a Greek god.

            At the last instant before impact, his eyes flared red.  He made a glowing fist out of his hand and swung it down on the front end of the tank.  Impossibly, it buckled as if a giant had splattered it into the ground like a bug, its treads collapsing, the metal crumpling.  The tank was stopped in its tracks.

            Apex grinned.  He looked up and shaded his eyes against the hot sun, watching an indigo blur zip across the sky.  His brother Zenith flew into a second tank, crashing into its side like a vengeful meteor.  It flipped over with a crash, kicking up more dust.  Zenith hovered over it, smiling to himself, his eyes glowing a blue so dark they were almost purple.

            The rest of the military column came to a stop.  Soldiers huddled together, raising machine guns.  The jeeps attempted to create a defensive formation, the one remaining tank swivelled its cannon to point at the floating man in blue.  Though this was a useless gesture, they hadn’t realized that yet.

            They got the point a moment later when Paragon arrived.  He swooped in, sprinting on foot, and propelled himself into the front of the tank, lifting with his hands.  It flipped over onto its back, crushing an adjacent jeep with a scream of metal and men.  Paragon stood where once the tank had been, and bellowed at the soldiers.

            “Put your weapons down!”

            Instead, the crowd opened fire, sending a hail of bullets in his direction.  They blasted away, and it took them a moment to register that the bullets weren’t hitting him.  Instead, they stopped in midair, hovering like a swarm of bees.

            The soldiers looked around at each other, completely mystified.  A young woman floated down from above, her long blonde hair rippling in the wind.  She wore a white uniform trimmed in blue and red, her eyes glowing.  Summit, they called her.  She telekinetically commanded the bullets, causing them to shape themselves in an arrow formation, pointed directly at the soldiers.

            “Put your weapons DOWN!”  Paragon yelled.  “Don’t make me say it again.”

            Every man there dropped their guns and held up their hands.

3. The Omicron Incident – Morning Meeting

 0600.  Director Shade put the newspaper down on his enormous black desk.  He stood up and looked out over the cityscape behind his tall windows.  He clasped his hands behind his back and sighed, looking at the gap in the skyline where a building had stood the day before, just a few blocks away.

            His telephone buzzed.  He turned and pushed a button.

            “Yes?”

            “Mr. Crandall is here to see you, sir.”

            “Send him in.”

            The door opened immediately.  Shade doubted Talbot had even given his secretary time to think, as her desk was on the opposite side of the adjoining room.  The older man strode purposefully into the office, his grey hair and wrinkled face a familiar sight to the Director.  They faced each other for a brief moment of silence:  one man young, slender, dark; the other greyed but incredibly fit, made of iron.  Wills silently wrestled.  Then the silence broke.

            “Hello sir, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

            “Can the pleasantries, Nick. What happened?”     

            Shade glanced out the window again.

            “I don’t know, sir.”

            “It’s three streets away!  Are you telling me that you can get surveillance footage of enemy leaders in their bathrooms, and can’t figure out what happened down the block?”

            “No, sir.  We just don’t know yet.  I have my best people on it.  I’m impressed you heard, it’s only been two hours.  They woke me up to tell me.”

            “I want an update in twenty-four hours.” Crandall said, not caring for details.

            “Yes, sir.”  Shade agreed, but Crandall was already on the move, out the door as quickly as he had entered.

            Nicholas Shade was glad to see him go.