dpaterso
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- Feb 12, 2005
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Lagging behind somewhat, trying to catch up. Get on with your own writing!
Hatches opened in the walls and a dozen gleaming auto machine-guns swung out, their barrels all pointing at her. Well, that wasn’t very friendly. All she’d done was rap her knuckles on the door of the nonedescript warehouse building near the docks, barely distinguishable from many other buildings just like it. At least she knew she had the right place.
She looked up at the security camera. It was all she dared to do. Any other physical movement, she suspected, would result in her being peeled open by a hail of bullets. There were a couple of flame-throwers also, she noted. Whoever had designed this death-trap wasn’t taking any chances.
She sighed inwardly. She knew very well who had designed it. But Rex wasn’t here now. Someone else was, though, watching her, as the winking red light on the camera indicated.
“You’re a little old for a girl scout, aren’t you?” The voice came from a speaker attached to the camera. Male, amused by his own wit. She didn’t recognize his voice. She glanced down at her clothing, which she’d stolen. The store worker’s uniform did somewhat resemble a girl scout ensemble, she had to admit. But beggars couldn’t be choosers; she could hardly walk about the city half-naked.
She didn’t say anything. She waited for him to get over his self-amusement and look again.
“The hell’s wrong with your face?” he said, and this time he wasn’t laughing.
She didn’t hear him talking to someone else but she got the impression he might be doing just that. The guns were still pointing at her, but if they were going to shoot then they would have done so by now.
Unseen bolts clicked and the door popped open, revealing a steel interior. An invitation to enter. She pulled it wide and stepped through. She found herself in a room with two armed guards facing her. They wore deep purple uniforms with “RR” badges on their collars. She knew they would be the most incompetent of the lot, cannon fodder throwaways whose lives had little importance. They were there as targets. If she attacked them, those within would take swift action. She did nothing. The seconds ticked past.
“Let her pass,” the same voice said from another speaker.
The guards stepped aside and watched her with unmistakable revulsion as she walked between them. She didn’t care what they thought, they meant nothing to her. As she approached a door, it slid open revealing a sophisticated control room full of command stations and big display screens. More guards stood in corners of the room, watching her. Two men stood in the center, facing her. One wore a purple uniform and had the look of a competent soldier about him. This would be Nayder, Rex’s chief of security. The other was easily a head taller than Nayder and wore a suit of shiny gold armor that was possibly the most pretentious outfit she’d ever seen, but she didn’t know its combat capabilities so she tried to curb her cynicism. The matching gold helmet sat on top of a nearby command station. It had horns. She saw herself reflected in the helmet’s big lenses. She wasn’t looking too pretty. Who would, after being set on fire and caught in an explosion? It was a wonder she was still alive.
“What can we do for you?” the man in gold armor said. He was the one who’d talked to her outside.
She looked significantly around the room. “Is this it? The entire organization?”
“We have assets in other locations,” Nayder said, caution in his tone.
“Which of you is running things now?”
“That would be me,” the man in gold armor said.
“Do you have a name?”
“To you I’m the Golden Bull.”
The name made her cringe inside, but so be it. “All right. What are your plans, G.B.? What’s your next step?”
“You think I’m going to tell you anything?”
“Rex was talking about hitting the bank vault. He had an arrangement with Doctor Drillbit, plus a couple of heavy hitters who’d take care of the cops.”
The two men looked at each other. “Why would he tell you this?” the man in gold armor said. “You’re Gertrude von Sapphire — Meteor Woman. You’re one of them — the Informal Band of Heroes.”
Nayder gave what he thought was a subtle signal to the guards. They stepped a little closer. She hoped this wasn’t going to turn into a brawl. She was still sore from being thrown into the river by the explosion. She was also angry, though. Beating these goons up could be cathartic.
Instead she said, “You idiot, me and Rex were together.” She held up her hand so they could see the ring Rex had given her, with RR stamped on the silver disk. “I was stealing something for him from the Heroes when his gun cutter went down.” She closed her eyes for just a moment and remembered the awful event, when her lover was engulfed in flames. His loss was like an icicle stabbed through her dark heart. “He told me all his plans, his hopes, his aspirations.” She stared at the man in gold armor. “He never mentioned you, though. I think I would have remembered. Where’d you come from and who put you in charge?”
She saw Nayder’s reaction to her words and knew her instincts had been right. Upon learning of Rex’s demise, this Golden Bull character had swept in and installed himself as the new boss of the criminal organization Rex had painstakingly built up. Nayder was a good right-hand man, not a leader, he was psychologically unsuited to object to this. Probably he welcomed it, even if the man in gold armor fell far short of Rex’s standards.
“You amuse me, Meteor Woman,” the Golden Bull said. “You think being Rex Ruthless’s secret girlfriend entitles you to something? You’re nothing — a burned-out has-been.” He smirked, perhaps realizing he’d made a great pun. “I think you’ve wasted enough of my time. I’ll handle the vault job, and every other job from now on.” He gestured to the guards. “Still her tongue, forever.”
Well, he certainly knew how to talk the villain talk, she gave him that much. She also gave him 200 thousand volts from Rex’s ring. The lightning bolt did exactly what Rex had promised it would, the Golden Bull was blasted off his feet and into a command station. Sparks showered and a display fell over and bonked the guy on the noggin. He slid to the floor, his arms and legs still shaking like crazy from the high-voltage shock. He lay in a sitting position for a good few seconds, head bowed, eyes closed. Then he moaned and his head slowly came up. Bull, indeed; any lesser man would have been dead. She stepped forward, picked up the satisfyingly heavy helmet by one of its horns and swung it like a mace.
Nayder had already motioned for the guards to lower their weapons and step back. He looked at her with new respect in his eyes.
“You got any objections to me picking things up where Rex left off?” she said to him.
He glanced at the man in gold armor, who wasn’t saying anything, nor would ever again. “None whatsoever.”
“Who do you have, personnel-wise? You got any engineers?”
“We have several, mostly weapon designers, but they can turn their hands, and claws, to anything.”
“Get a couple of them over here and tell them to peel that armor off him. I want it resized to fit me. If it doesn’t already fly, I want jet boots added. Rocket launchers might be cool, too.”
Nayder nodded. “As you command.”
She studied the helmet. She’d have the horns removed and a beauty mask installed, like a face from a classical Greek statue. No one would want to see her ugly mug. Perhaps a merging of names might work: the Golden Meteor. She liked that idea.
“The vault heist goes ahead as planned, I’ll contact Doctor Drillbit and the other guys and confirm. You and your guys are going to knock out the power system and gridlock the city. Can do?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“I can see why Rex liked you. Oh, and get rid of the body. Dump it in the river. No, wait.” She remembered the plot they’d given her in the cemetery. An empty grave whose tombstone bore a nice inscription honoring Meteor Woman’s noble sacrifice. She didn’t like the idea of it being empty. That was like tempting fate. She would rectify this soonest. It would be a good test for her new armor suit. “Don’t bother, I’ll get rid of it myself. I made the mess, after all.”
Related to FFC - 10/13/19, Flowers For Gertrude
-The New Boss-
Hatches opened in the walls and a dozen gleaming auto machine-guns swung out, their barrels all pointing at her. Well, that wasn’t very friendly. All she’d done was rap her knuckles on the door of the nonedescript warehouse building near the docks, barely distinguishable from many other buildings just like it. At least she knew she had the right place.
She looked up at the security camera. It was all she dared to do. Any other physical movement, she suspected, would result in her being peeled open by a hail of bullets. There were a couple of flame-throwers also, she noted. Whoever had designed this death-trap wasn’t taking any chances.
She sighed inwardly. She knew very well who had designed it. But Rex wasn’t here now. Someone else was, though, watching her, as the winking red light on the camera indicated.
“You’re a little old for a girl scout, aren’t you?” The voice came from a speaker attached to the camera. Male, amused by his own wit. She didn’t recognize his voice. She glanced down at her clothing, which she’d stolen. The store worker’s uniform did somewhat resemble a girl scout ensemble, she had to admit. But beggars couldn’t be choosers; she could hardly walk about the city half-naked.
She didn’t say anything. She waited for him to get over his self-amusement and look again.
“The hell’s wrong with your face?” he said, and this time he wasn’t laughing.
She didn’t hear him talking to someone else but she got the impression he might be doing just that. The guns were still pointing at her, but if they were going to shoot then they would have done so by now.
Unseen bolts clicked and the door popped open, revealing a steel interior. An invitation to enter. She pulled it wide and stepped through. She found herself in a room with two armed guards facing her. They wore deep purple uniforms with “RR” badges on their collars. She knew they would be the most incompetent of the lot, cannon fodder throwaways whose lives had little importance. They were there as targets. If she attacked them, those within would take swift action. She did nothing. The seconds ticked past.
“Let her pass,” the same voice said from another speaker.
The guards stepped aside and watched her with unmistakable revulsion as she walked between them. She didn’t care what they thought, they meant nothing to her. As she approached a door, it slid open revealing a sophisticated control room full of command stations and big display screens. More guards stood in corners of the room, watching her. Two men stood in the center, facing her. One wore a purple uniform and had the look of a competent soldier about him. This would be Nayder, Rex’s chief of security. The other was easily a head taller than Nayder and wore a suit of shiny gold armor that was possibly the most pretentious outfit she’d ever seen, but she didn’t know its combat capabilities so she tried to curb her cynicism. The matching gold helmet sat on top of a nearby command station. It had horns. She saw herself reflected in the helmet’s big lenses. She wasn’t looking too pretty. Who would, after being set on fire and caught in an explosion? It was a wonder she was still alive.
“What can we do for you?” the man in gold armor said. He was the one who’d talked to her outside.
She looked significantly around the room. “Is this it? The entire organization?”
“We have assets in other locations,” Nayder said, caution in his tone.
“Which of you is running things now?”
“That would be me,” the man in gold armor said.
“Do you have a name?”
“To you I’m the Golden Bull.”
The name made her cringe inside, but so be it. “All right. What are your plans, G.B.? What’s your next step?”
“You think I’m going to tell you anything?”
“Rex was talking about hitting the bank vault. He had an arrangement with Doctor Drillbit, plus a couple of heavy hitters who’d take care of the cops.”
The two men looked at each other. “Why would he tell you this?” the man in gold armor said. “You’re Gertrude von Sapphire — Meteor Woman. You’re one of them — the Informal Band of Heroes.”
Nayder gave what he thought was a subtle signal to the guards. They stepped a little closer. She hoped this wasn’t going to turn into a brawl. She was still sore from being thrown into the river by the explosion. She was also angry, though. Beating these goons up could be cathartic.
Instead she said, “You idiot, me and Rex were together.” She held up her hand so they could see the ring Rex had given her, with RR stamped on the silver disk. “I was stealing something for him from the Heroes when his gun cutter went down.” She closed her eyes for just a moment and remembered the awful event, when her lover was engulfed in flames. His loss was like an icicle stabbed through her dark heart. “He told me all his plans, his hopes, his aspirations.” She stared at the man in gold armor. “He never mentioned you, though. I think I would have remembered. Where’d you come from and who put you in charge?”
She saw Nayder’s reaction to her words and knew her instincts had been right. Upon learning of Rex’s demise, this Golden Bull character had swept in and installed himself as the new boss of the criminal organization Rex had painstakingly built up. Nayder was a good right-hand man, not a leader, he was psychologically unsuited to object to this. Probably he welcomed it, even if the man in gold armor fell far short of Rex’s standards.
“You amuse me, Meteor Woman,” the Golden Bull said. “You think being Rex Ruthless’s secret girlfriend entitles you to something? You’re nothing — a burned-out has-been.” He smirked, perhaps realizing he’d made a great pun. “I think you’ve wasted enough of my time. I’ll handle the vault job, and every other job from now on.” He gestured to the guards. “Still her tongue, forever.”
Well, he certainly knew how to talk the villain talk, she gave him that much. She also gave him 200 thousand volts from Rex’s ring. The lightning bolt did exactly what Rex had promised it would, the Golden Bull was blasted off his feet and into a command station. Sparks showered and a display fell over and bonked the guy on the noggin. He slid to the floor, his arms and legs still shaking like crazy from the high-voltage shock. He lay in a sitting position for a good few seconds, head bowed, eyes closed. Then he moaned and his head slowly came up. Bull, indeed; any lesser man would have been dead. She stepped forward, picked up the satisfyingly heavy helmet by one of its horns and swung it like a mace.
Nayder had already motioned for the guards to lower their weapons and step back. He looked at her with new respect in his eyes.
“You got any objections to me picking things up where Rex left off?” she said to him.
He glanced at the man in gold armor, who wasn’t saying anything, nor would ever again. “None whatsoever.”
“Who do you have, personnel-wise? You got any engineers?”
“We have several, mostly weapon designers, but they can turn their hands, and claws, to anything.”
“Get a couple of them over here and tell them to peel that armor off him. I want it resized to fit me. If it doesn’t already fly, I want jet boots added. Rocket launchers might be cool, too.”
Nayder nodded. “As you command.”
She studied the helmet. She’d have the horns removed and a beauty mask installed, like a face from a classical Greek statue. No one would want to see her ugly mug. Perhaps a merging of names might work: the Golden Meteor. She liked that idea.
“The vault heist goes ahead as planned, I’ll contact Doctor Drillbit and the other guys and confirm. You and your guys are going to knock out the power system and gridlock the city. Can do?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“I can see why Rex liked you. Oh, and get rid of the body. Dump it in the river. No, wait.” She remembered the plot they’d given her in the cemetery. An empty grave whose tombstone bore a nice inscription honoring Meteor Woman’s noble sacrifice. She didn’t like the idea of it being empty. That was like tempting fate. She would rectify this soonest. It would be a good test for her new armor suit. “Don’t bother, I’ll get rid of it myself. I made the mess, after all.”
-The End-
Related to FFC - 10/13/19, Flowers For Gertrude