Bad Beat - Chapter 41 - Interlude 2 (Patreon)

There was something awesome about using the new devices.

Mia’s fingers flew over the keyboard, fueled by experience and her power subtly whispering in her mind. A keystroke here, a small addition there, a few more clicks she instinctively felt were necessary, a menu option she hadn’t even known existed.

Every action felt natural, as if she had spent years working with the equipment, learning the ins and outs through trial and error until it became ingrained and transformed into muscle memory.

Her power continued to whisper in her mind, guiding her fingers as she delved deeper and deeper into the systems surrounding the Electric Jackal hideout, while her two ‘friends’ stood around the old console and argued.

Occasionally, she glanced over, trying to ignore their bickering.

Then, before she could dwell on them for long, her attention was drawn to the damnable AI Gabriel had somehow acquired. The little digital menace reached into her code and processes, changing them as it pleased.

While she knew there was little she could do about its existence, no matter how much it reminded her of all the horrible things that happened in movies, it still bothered her that its housing was only a dozen feet away.

It also didn’t help that it was disgustingly adorable.

Over the days since discovering that Spark-1, or Sparky as she insisted Mia call her, existed, they had been having daily conversations.

At first, Mia had expected the AI to be cold and analytical.

The whole ‘acting like a cute little girl’ a façade, or a defensive mechanism.

Instead, she got curious questions, endless commentary, and an alarming amount of personality.

Sometimes Sparky asked about this or that human thing.

Like why high-heeled shoes existed...

Mia had no idea. She detested those infernal devices…

Why people voluntarily watched movies that made them cry.

Why humans consumed foods they openly admitted tasted terrible.

Or the cute AI simply wanted to complain about something stupid Gabriel had done.

Naturally, Mia also reached out.

Sometimes they simply chatted, but occasionally she made use of the AI’s insane computing power.

Honestly, she felt a little scummy asking a young AI to research people’s tastes in fanfiction pairings and preferred body types, but gosh darn it, she needed some easy money.

Sparky had not only done the research, but she had returned with a neatly formatted and easy-to-understand Excel spreadsheet complete with charts, trend analysis, demographic breakdowns, and highlighted recommendations.

One chapter written, and people had already started swarming.

That night, she had to admit Gabriel was right.

Sparky was sassy and very smug.

And now she watched as the code she entered simply changed, transformed, and, dare she say it, was elevated under the AI’s careful guidance.

Shaking her head, she refocused on the task at hand while her... friend helped things along.

Mia paused a little.

‘Friend?’ she thought.

Was Sparky really a friend?

She thought back to the long, late-night chats that somehow stretched into early mornings. The jokes and arguments. The bafflingly random questions.

The entertainingly sassy commentary that somehow never got old.

‘Yeah, we are friends…’ she finally decided before refocusing on the task.

The information about her sister was at stake.

Whatever answers were hidden inside the Electric Jackals’ systems, she intended to find them.

She needed to give it her all.

“Hey! Check this out!” Nate called out.

Mia barely spared him a glance as she watched Gabriel bumble through the infiltration with all the grace of a drunk swan. He might have had the equipment of a certified ninja, but his ability to actually look like one was laughable.

Honestly, from the perspective of the drone hovering behind him, it looked like she was controlling a poorly programmed character in some kind of bargain-bin stealth game. From the perspective of the security cameras she had access to, it looked like one of those movies where the characters thought they were being stealthy when everyone around them could obviously see them.

Exaggeratedly slow movements, His head constantly swiveling from side to side, and occasionally darting against a wall and trying to become one with it.

It was hilarious.

Mia made sure to save a copy for later.

She looked up with a frown. “What? I’m focusing here...”

Nate didn’t answer. He simply pointed at the TV screen that was showing some kind of news broadcast.

At first, she was confused about why he was showing it to her.

Then she saw the picture.

A picture of Gabriel in his getup.

Her amusement vanished instantly.

Then the worlds began to filter in, and in a short order, her life became even more complicated.

**

Mia rushed back into her own apartment, feeling much safer now that the familiar walls were in sight.

She immediately became a whirlwind of motion, grabbing all her high-quality devices that reeked of superpowers and stashing them in a small hidden compartment she had carved into the wardrobe under a loose floor panel in the corner. Unless somebody fully searched her home – or had a power specifically geared toward detection – they wouldn’t be found.

Then she moved on to her decoy setup: an old, beat-up laptop she had been using for exactly this purpose since she had gained her abilities.

She had installed software that mirrored activity across several services, so it appeared constantly in use. Enough background noise to fake regular engagement if someone checked incoming and outgoing traffic on her router or ran a casual scan of her network.

Which the Electric Jackals did regularly.

When she was finished, she finally stopped moving long enough to breathe. She dropped onto the couch, flipped the laptop open, then reached for the remote and turned on the TV.

The channel she landed on was already showing images of the hotel evacuation while a talking head kept chattering away.

Click.

Another channel.

A serious-looking man read from a teleprompter, documents in hand, while a high-definition image of Gabriel in his ‘super’ getup was displayed beside him.

“…Analysts consulted by our station believe increased law enforcement attention may have contributed to today’s escalation, though officials have not confirmed a motive at this time.

At present, little is publicly known about Enchanter’s abilities. Authorities are advising the public not to approach him under any circumstances, warning that he should be considered extremely dangerous.

If you believe you have seen him, contact authorities immediately using the emergency reporting line currently displayed on screen.”

Ignoring the canned report, her thoughts swirled around in her head.

They had made sure all the cameras were wiped. She had personally verified that nothing in the area should have been able to record them.

And yet there it was.

A clear image of Gabriel.

Even the strange artifacting he sometimes produced – the subtle distortions and weird artifacts that should have made clean capture impossible – was gone. Either it had been ineffective, or someone had cleaned the footage after the fact.

It boggled the mind.

Then another thought intruded.

If they – whoever they were – had a picture of Gabriel, wouldn’t it be possible that they also had one of her?

If yes… why didn’t they show that? Why were they only focusing on Gabriel?

It was maddening that she couldn’t find a solution to this damned riddle…

She spent a few more minutes cycling through local channels, but they were all running the same story. Talking about the bomb threat at the Thousand Flowers Hotel. Discussing Bombshell’s reaction or the announcement Helix had put out. There were even interviews with police officers or several smaller superheroes who worked around the San Bernardino area.

Mia instantly recognized them, as all of them were on the Helix roster.

Not officially, of course, but it didn’t take a genius to connect the dots.

She was about to hop online when there was a knock on her door.

Mia froze.

For a moment, she was certain it was someone from the Jackals. Or worse – an entire gang team ready to break her door down.

Her heart slammed against her throat, making it hard to swallow. Sweat started to run down her back as adrenaline flooded her system like a runaway engine. She sat rigidly on the couch, her laptop completely forgotten.

She forced herself to take a breath.

“Y-yes? Who is it?” she called out weakly.

She could have used the hidden camera she’d installed in the ceiling near the sprinkler system, but her hands refused to cooperate.

“It’s me…” came a familiar voice.

For a long moment, she just stared at the door without comprehension.

Then she moved.

She exploded off the couch in one motion, crossed the room in a few quick strides, and yanked the door open. Nate barely had time to react before she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him inside. He stumbled forward as the door slammed shut behind him.

Mia stood there, breathing hard, watching him steady himself.

He lifted the bag he was holding slightly as if nothing had happened, while she crossed her arms.

“Well?” she whispered sharply. “What the hell are you doing here? Why didn’t you leave?”

Nate glanced around the apartment first, as if looking for something. Then his eyes landed on her, and something flickered across his expression – something she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Ah, my dear Mia…” he began, that infuriating smirk already forming. “I simply looked into the future to determine the best way to avoid attention.”

He shrugged, shifting the bag in his hand.

“If I leave now, I get harassed by the Jackals. However, if I wait it out here, I can leave later with no fuss.”

Mia stared at him, trying to decide whether he was lying or just being Nate. Meanwhile, he continued casually scanning her apartment like he was evaluating real estate.

Finally, she let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, you can stay.”

“Yes!” he said, grinning openly now. “You are the best, Mia!”

She waved him off as she moved past him toward the couch. “Yeah… yeah…”

He followed and dropped onto the other end of the couch, placing the bag on the table with a clatter.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he said lightly. “How about a bit of a break?”

“What?” she asked flatly.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a can of beer. “Here…”

Mia looked at the offered drink, then back at Nate’s still-grinning face. Without breaking eye contact, he pulled out another can, popped it open with one hand, and took a sip.

“Ahh…” he exhaled. “Nothing better than a drink after a heist. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Mia looked down at the laptop, where the world of online news awaited her, then at the TV, still looping evacuation footage and talking heads repeating the same details in slightly different words.

Then back at Nate.

Then at the beer.

It was her favorite.

‘How did he… oh right. Precog…’ she thought.

After a beat, she gave up with a small sigh.

She reached for the can, opened it, and took a long drink.

He stood in the middle of the floor, one hand idly playing with his thick watch, while half a dozen people groaned and writhed in front of him on the ground.

Their skin was black and blue. Blood was everywhere: their skin, the ground, the clothing, even some on the ceiling. Several of them were breathing through their mouths, where teeth were visibly missing.

“Tell me again… how the servers… just… vanished?” his voice was a whisper, yet it cut through the room filled with Jackal members like a blade.

The people behind him – including a heavily bandaged Claw – watched the scene in tense silence.

Some in fear, some in anger, some with confusion.

One of the men on the ground managed to crawl toward him, dragging himself forward inch by inch. He almost reached the man’s shoes before an unseen force stopped him dead.

“Ack… argh,” the man gasped as if the air had been driven out of his lungs. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and slurred from a missing tooth. “We were… guardin’, boss. I-I promise! There was no-nobody.”

“So the servers just grew legs and walked away,” the man above him said, still eerily calm. “That’s what you’re suggesting? Huh?”

“N-nah. Nuttin’ like that, boss,” the man trembled, while the others on the floor groaned and tried to nod in agreement. “But I swear I ain’t seen anything. There was just us and no one else! P-please… you ‘ave to believe me… you have to…”

As he kept muttering, blood began to seep more heavily from his injuries, spreading into the growing pool beneath him. His voice faded into a broken whisper, then stopped entirely as he took his last breath.

The man above him gave a final, dismissive look before turning away as the rest of the injured men followed in similar silence, giving their last gasps as an unseen force bore down on them.

“Clean these up,” he ordered.

Instantly, a dozen people sprang forward to obey.

He stepped over the spreading pools of blood and walked toward the open door of the server room, where the last remnants of cold air still spilled out. Two nervous Jackal members stood guard outside, stiff as statues, their terrified eyes on the bodies being carefully moved as people arrived with mops and chemicals.

Claw followed him with another person joining them as he looked around the empty room, eyeing the sea of cables leading nowhere. The only proof anything had ever been there were faint dust outlines on the floor.

He looked up, eyeing the last guy.

“Carlos. Please tell me you have something better than empty begging…”

Carlos swallowed hard, sending a nervous glance toward Claw, who stood like a wall of bandages and muscle.

Then he nodded.

“Yes, boss. The moment we noticed the intrusion, we locked everything down. Nobody in or out.”

“And?”

“Nobody left or entered the building. Everyone was busy with that thing at the hotel.”

“So it’s someone from inside the building?”

“Or a teleporter, flyer, or someone who can phase through walls,” Carlos replied with a helpless shrug. “Honestly, boss, there are so many ways a super could have done it, it’s impossible to narrow down.”

As if sensing the rising pressure in the room emanating from the other man – or simply driven by self-preservation instincts – Carlos hurried on.

“Of course, that didn’t stop us from searching the building.”

“I assume you found nothing.”

“Sorry, boss.”

A slow exhale escaped him as he leaned against the wall, one hand still turning the watch on his wrist.

He looked at Claw.

“You have seen the news, right?”

The giant muscled man covered in bandages grunted, and anger began radiating off him as if ready to combust. “Yeah…”

“Surprisingly similar to the guy you fought,” the man murmured, as Carlos glanced between them.

“Enchanter, right?” Carlos asked carefully.

The man’s eyes flicked to him.

“Yes. Claw had a… run-in with him some time ago. And now he’s the biggest story this side of the mountains. Right when someone robs us of our servers.”

He looked around the empty room again, expression tightening.

“Curious…”

She stood on the top of the hotel, looking out over the city as the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, bringing with it the usual reds and oranges that bled across the skyline.

She could hear it clearly as the staccato of platform heels striking bare concrete sounded behind her, but she didn’t turn around.

The steps stopped a few feet behind her. Close enough to hear, but not close enough to be within reach.

“Evelyn,” she called softly, voice carrying just enough to cut through the wind. “Why am I not out there hunting down some no-name lowlife who dared to disrupt my event?”

Evelyn, in her usual pencil skirt, black blazer, and stone-faced expression, merely snorted.

“Like you care about those kids…”

“I don’t,” she said without a trace of shame or concern for who might be listening. Evelyn being here meant her team was nearby as well, and they would make sure no one was spying on them. “But they disrupted my event, so they must pay.”

Anger was shimmering under her skin, ready to be unleashed.

Evelyn snorted again.

“Naturally,” she replied, then let out a small sigh that suggested she had expected exactly this response. “You’re not out there because we don’t know who was behind it.”

She finally turned around, raising an eyebrow at the other woman.

“What? But I saw the news,” she said, gesturing down toward the street where journalists and opportunists still swarmed like ants, all trying to catch a glimpse of anything worth broadcasting. “Wasn’t it some… Embalmer?”

“Enchanter.”

“That!” she said immediately, snapping her fingers at Evelyn with renewed confidence. “Enchanter. Why are you saying we don’t know who it was?”

“Because it wasn’t Enchanter who sent the threats,” Evelyn replied stoically.

She shrugged, unconvinced.

“So? We have his picture and information. Just hunt him down, set up a few conspiracy boards in a warehouse, and presto. Case solved.”

Evelyn stared at her for a moment, then shook her head almost imperceptibly, as if physically resisting the urge to respond with something else.

“No. Headquarters wants to investigate before we act.”

“Lame…” she muttered, her shoulders dropping slightly as the excitement drained out of her.

“Naturally,” Evelyn replied, unmoved.

For a moment, she considered finding one of the bigger villains in the city just to vent her frustration at being interrupted.

But Evelyn continued before she could act on it.

“Of course,” she said, a thin, sharp smile forming on her face. “You do have your next assignment.”

The evil smile that followed was not one Amelia particularly liked, and the timing of it made her instantly suspicious.

She never like when the other woman looked at her like that.

There were very few things that scared her nowadays, but that little smile.

Those empty eyes.

Amelia shivered, and she knew it wasn’t because of the wind.

Then Evelyn began to talk, and she knew she was right.

“Ugh… this sucks…”

Evelyn began to turn around. “Suck it up. You have a week.”