Leaguer's Disasters
1
Charles Flores felt the building shake under him as he tried to finish his column for the paper's deadline. It seemed easy for him to turn out his daily two thousand words. Sometimes he had enough material for a whole series he could write in advance for the Crier. Then the things on his desk jumped on their own, the power flickered, and his cane fell out of its stand beside his desk.
Flores saved his copy before the power actually went out and ruined his work. Sometimes he overran his word count, but he didn't want to retype everything from scratch.
He waited, glad that the tremor seemed to have stopped. He finished his column and sent it to the editor for review. He had a feeling he would need to consult with his alter ego about the quake.
Flores straightened his desk after making sure his column was waiting for editing. The last thing he picked up was his cane. He leaned on it as he made his way to the elevators. Flores had given up investigational reporting when he had lost the use of one of his legs. He never found out who had shattered that leg.
After his 'accident', he had acquired System. His decision to shift to more public interest pieces and let others cover wrongdoing was easier when he realized he could do more using the alien suit of armor than he could as a reporter.
Flores had System go over the reports from the networks as he rode the main elevator down to the lobby of the Crier. It would collate everything to give him a concise summary. Luckily no injuries had been reported so far.
System remarked that only one building had been seriously damaged by the strange earthquake. Emergency units were already there helping the victims.
Flores decided to see for himself. It might be material for another column. The city had endured some fantastic challenges. An unnatural phenomenon went well with a cannibal living in the sewer.
The reporter hailed a cab and gave an address not too far away from where the incident had occurred.
2
Charles Flores leaned on his cane. He didn't like what he saw. He wondered if his assessment would improve if he could look inside of the building, but doubted it.
The affected building was a small bank in the lobby of an office building not far from the Crier. The glass doors of the place were laying on the street in front. Paramedics had people near their trucks with bandages covering bloody wounds. The fire and police departments wandered the wrecked bottom floor as technicians collected evidence.
Flores waited for everything to calm down, and the crowd to clear away. It took a few hours but finally the area emptied out. The reporter crossed the street, slipped under the police tape, and looked around at the damage.
The small bank area lay in pieces all over the oval room. The vault door had been taken away by the authorities, but Flores could see where the frame had been twisted beyond repair. The cameras above where the counter had been were smashed with the rest of the furnishings.
Flores turned in a slow circle. System should be taking scans of the damage and telling him what had happened as soon as it was done. He already figured it was some villain who had gone for an easy score, and got away before anyone could respond.
Church Hill attracted the criminal element, especially those with powers. They seemed to look at things like old west gunslingers, ready to pit their skills against the defenders of the city. They wanted to know who was quicker on the draw. Money was just a byproduct of this quest.
Flores turned and headed for the door. System would generate a list of suspects he could use to track the robber down. He hoped it was someone known. The alternative was to wait for another robbery and trying to intercept the guy before he escaped the scene. He couldn't guarantee that since other emergencies had to be granted attention by his alter ego.
Flores turned on the street, limping toward a bus stop so that he could get home.
Flores rode the bus across town. The artificial intelligence in his wristwatch beeped sometimes as it ran through the databases it had hacked into as a matter of course to search for any metahumans that fit the crime scene he had observed. Dozens of possible suspects were weeded out as the alien computer checked where each one was as much as it could.
Even that would take the police force hours to verify if the suspects System couldn't track down were hiding in Church Hill.
Flores pushed the bell for his stop. He waited until the bus came to a stop, before leaning on his cane and clumping down the three steps to the curb. He limped along the block, an eye on the small apartment complex where he lived.
The neighborhood had its share of crooks roaming loose, but Leaguer had cleared out any that tried to prey on anyone near his building. There were occasional break-ins, and crimes of passion, but most of the major street crime had moved away. Flores wanted to grab everyone he could but he had to limit himself to things that affected the city as a whole instead of tracking down every petty criminal operating within the city limits.
Otherwise, he would be operating every minute of every day picking up perpetrators and testifying at their trials.
Flores walked across the lot, up two flights of stairs, and down a short hall to his apartment door. He inserted his keys, and unlocked the two locks on the wooden panel. He stepped inside, dropping his cane in its stand by the door. He closed and locked the door behind him.
Flores knew that his place was inviolate thanks to the technology from System's files. He sat down at his desk. His watch booted up the computer on the top of the furniture. Thousands of connections were made as the piece of equipment reached out to other databases across the country.
System's list of suspects was the first thing to appear after the computer was ready to use.
3
Stan Cook smiled as he walked along the sidewalk a few miles outside of Church Hill's Diamond Boulevard financial area. He rubbed his hands together, not liking the numbness that remained from his earlier robbery. He knew it was because of his power, but didn't know how to deal with the side effect.
He didn't expect to still be alive after what had happened to him. Waking up in the morgue was a definite low point in his life. On the other hand, his ability to shake things to pieces had netted him almost five hundred thousand dollars in five minutes' worth of work.
Stan checked a wall clock hanging inside a small restaurant he was walking by at the moment. It was after hours for where he was headed. He should be totally alone for his next job. That was just the way he liked it.
Stan paused when he reached his next job site. He walked by, then circled around the back. The cameras were mounted facing the door, but there were none facing the drive-through window. He avoided the atm machine while he was unmasked. He pulled out a laundry bag, and a face mask. Two seconds later, he was ready to go to work.
Stan pointed at the plastic window pane. His hand shook as he called on that thing that had grabbed him while he had been nearly dead. Suddenly the feeling leaped to the bank wall. He watched in fascination as his masked reflection vibrated until the wall fell in. Stan waited for the dust cloud to settle before stepping inside the opened building.
The living earthquake ran to the vault, knowing he had a short time before someone answered the alarms. An index finger pointed at the metal door until the barricade fell in as the frame around it came apart.
Time to get what he could and get out.
4
Charles Flores called some people he thought would help him with his list the next day. Most of his leads were nothing after he had finished with his calls. Everyone was accounted for, locked away in their dudgeons, under guard as some of the most dangerous people in the United States.
So naturally none of them could be wrecking buildings, and looting the money that should have been protected behind a ton of steel.
Flores put it aside, as he assembled the material for his next few columns. He had focused his attention on currency, and its history. Once he had that stamped out and ready for the copy editor, he could go back to his investigation. He didn't want to involve any of his colleagues yet. They would try to track this guy down without thinking of anything but glory, and a byline.
That would get the offending reporter killed in all likelihood.
Flores finished his next few columns, filling out his word requirement as easily as breathing. He hoped no one would look at a bill the same way after they had read the series. A keystroke sent each column over in separate files. The editor would look them over, cut out anything that was too long, and demand a rewrite on anything that seemed too politically incorrect for the Crier. Then the columns would be loaded on page 10 after everything had been done.
Flores pulled up the bank robbery file, adding the newer one to it as he tried to think of some way to track the offender down. Maybe a sensor array designed to pick up an artificial earthquake as it was happening. System probably had a design in its memory somewhere.
Flores might have to ignore the dozens of emergency calls away from Church Hill until he caught the felon. He couldn't be everywhere at once, and until he, or the other vigilantes in town, could focus on this one man, the robberies would continue.
Flores grabbed his cane and stood up. Maybe he needed some air while he considered the problem.
5
Stan Cook looked at the ring on his finger for the hundredth time. He had bought it with some of the proceeds from his two robberies. He decided this was going to be his one indulgence. He needed to stay below the cops' radar, and throwing around new bills wasn't going to do that.
Stan liked what he did for a living. Shaking down a SWAT team wasn't conducive to continuing to rake in the dough. Confrontation was a last option after trying to escape, after not being noticed in the first place. That's why he liked to do his thing at night after the places were clear.
Screw having to bust up a rent-a-cop, or some women just trying to count the bank's money.
Stan saw a projection television in a store a few doors down from the jewelry store. He could use one of them to liven his place up. Watching the game would be killer with one of those babies.
He shook off the urge with a reminder that he only had a few dollars he could spend that week, and he should concentrate on something a little more edible than a king-sized television.
Stan made a note on the price before he headed to the grocery store on his way back to his apartment. He could get it next month after he had hit a few more places. He had plenty of money, but he still had to get to work so he could declare that he had a job for the IRS to justify any real spending he did.
Just like if he was a drug dealer trying to avoid a search and seizure by the law.
Stan saw his bus stop, reminding himself he needed to get a car from somewhere. Riding the bus was for the birds. Maybe he would do that after the television. One thing at a time was the way to go if he wanted to keep out of the spotlight.
6
A golden streak appeared over Church Hill, heading straight up to the edge of the atmosphere. It paused when the whole of the hemisphere could be seen from above. It was a spectacular view, no matter how many times he saw it.
Leaguer floated in place, surrounded by the aura System maintained for protection. Usually the artificial intelligence logged numerous calls for him to answer. Flores had told it to limit things to priority one calls until he could stop the bank robber he was trying to track down. Other heroes were on the job, and they could take up his slack for a bit.
How could he guard every bank in Church Hill until he had at least identified the one man he was looking for? Direct surveillance would give him an alert when a building was being knocked over. He would have to drop everything to get to the bank and stop the getaway. Creating cameras and placing them would be a cinch with System's help. Raw material would also be available on demand.
What should his remote eyes look like?
Flores turned to the vast library that System had access to, and asked for several samples of what was closest to what he wanted. He picked one design after going over all the suggestions the computer brain presented. It seemed perfect for what he wanted to do.
Leaguer pulled away from the Earth and headed for the moon. He had set up a sensor system on the far side, and had a small work space there. Occasionally he had added things he didn't feel comfortable having on Earth, the latest being fish that had been mutated by chemical waste. He had built them an aquarium in a special room away from his equipment area.
Leaguer would move everything when a moon colony was finally built and maintained if he lived that long. Until then, he had a place away from Earth to work in solitude on whatever project that was necessary to do his duty.
He landed on the special pad. A signal from System dropped him in the airlock. Once through the cycle, he headed for his lab to work on his idea.
Then he could return to business as usual until the robber struck.
7
Stan Cook waited for two weeks. He worked at his menial job, and kept a low profile. Occasionally he would hit the bar scene, looking for a girl to pick up for the night. He stayed away from alcohol, or drugs. He didn't want to get wasted and lose control in the middle of a crowded area.
Once he had released some of his pent up energy on the water. A small tidal wave rushed away from his shaking hands. That was when he decided that he would need to pull a job soon so he didn't have to risk another menace to shipping and have it connected to him.
Stan waited until nightfall for one of the little bank branches he had cased beforehand to close. Once he was sure no one was inside, he shook a wall down. He crossed the ruined floor in the cloud of dust caused by his demolition. He blew the vault out next. Two minutes later he was headed for the door, looking out for anyone who might be looking to see what had caused half the building to fall in.
Two guys got out of a car across the street. They pointed pistols at Stan, saying something he couldn't quite hear. It didn't take a genius to realize the cops had decided to watch every bank in town to stop him.
Stan raised his hands, money bag hanging from his left. He reached inside, hoping he hadn't expended all of his power against the bank and its vault. He stared at the parked vehicle as the cops came toward him. He almost smiled as he felt the vibration race away from him. All he needed was a distraction, so he could head for the subway, or a bus stop.
His power ripped up the street in front of him. The cops, asphalt, and the police car tipped into the sewer as Stan's vibrations did their work. Part of the underground connectors jutted out of the ground as part of the building beyond the car started to collapse. Then the front of the thing dropped down in the open hole.
Stan looked around for any more surprises before running away. The subway was out after that little tantrum. He needed to get off the street before the calvary arrived to fill him full of holes. He jammed his mask in his pockets as he shook the bank's money bag into a back pack. There was nothing he could do about the dust covering him at the moment.
He slowed down to a walk as he saw a stop with a schedule. He was in luck. A bus was due in a few minutes.
8
System let Flores know about another robbery while he was over the Pacific in his golden armor. He couldn't do anything about it at the moment. A tidal wave was threatening to rush on the Philippines and destroy the islands. That took precedent over a bank robbery. Flores's new assistant would have to keep things in hand while he dealt with this larger problem.
Leaguer had System run various scenarios for a solution to his task. The best thing it could give him was to raise his force field into a wall to shatter the rampaging wave.
Flores got in front of the wave, letting the projectors in the back of his wrists aim along the vector a floating arrow inside his visor pointed. System would shape the field automatically into the desired configuration. A small timer counted down the positions of the two as they rushed together. When the numbers vanished, Leaguer fired his projectors.
A gold wall extended in front of the hero. It blasted through the water's center. The tidal wave split apart, the ends collapsing like bird wings folding. Rain was all that remained of the near disaster, but it was still falling as the golden avenger headed to where the wave had been started. An underwater volcano had caused the wave with an eruption.
Flores would have to do something about that before heading back to Church Hill. He didn't want another tidal wave to strike while he was busy somewhere else. A few minutes of underwater work resulted in vents so the volcano would not build up pressure for another eruption for a while.
Flores checked his handiwork before he headed for orbit. He could arc down to Church Hill in a matter of seconds like that. Then he planned to consult his aide about the quake villain. System was already sifting the data for use.
Church Hill spread out in a peaceful blanket as the golden glow of the Leaguer's force field lit up the sky as he dropped down at the end of his flight from the other side of the world. A quarter area of his visor's display showed him what his aide saw as it also flew over the city. System showed a map coordinate and a red triangle to point Flores in the right direction. The reporter flew high, dimming his field as much as he could.
He didn't want to give the Quake Bandit advance warning when he dropped down to arrest him.
Flores followed the signal from his assistant until it reported that it was stationary on the roof of a tenement. An exact address followed. Then he aimed for that apartment building and crossed the intervening distance as fast as he could. Seconds later he was standing beside the watchdog he had built with System's help.
Flores had built a robotic bird in his special lab. System had provided everything he had needed, even programming so the bird could lock on the correct target and act like a real bird as it followed the felon around. Now it sat on the roof's edge, staring at a building across the street. The target lock it had acquired told it that the energy signature it had followed was still in the building. One second bursts relayed that to System who highlighted the room Flores was interested in.
This could be messy, Flores thought as he took flight again. One wrong move could bring the place down on anyone else in the place. He would have to get the guy away from any potential hostages long enough to subdue him.
If he got away, the bird could follow him until he stopped running.
Leaguer hovered outside the window, seeing the Quake Bandit for the first time. He raised his hand, knocking the glass out of the frame with his force field. The man turned as a golden bubble of energy wrapped around him. Flores backed up, dragging the man out of the room with him.
9
Stan Cook hovered above the city street. Two things ran through his mind back to back. The first was 'I'm busted.' The second was 'No way.'
Stan pointed his finger at the gold bubble. He didn't have to reach far to summon his power. The air vibrated as he unleashed it at his prison. He didn't know how much he could give, but felt that his power would get him out of this spot.
The energy field warped under the sudden counter attack. A crack appeared as System tried to counter the effect Stan's vibrations were having. Suddenly the projector gave out in a shower of sparks. The bubble gave out, allowing the bandit to fall toward the street below. The Leaguer had to right himself so he wouldn't plunge into another building.
Stan spread his hands out in front of him, letting his power buffet the street as he headed down. The street bowed up in a wave. Automobiles scattered as the asphalt reached upward. The bank robber hit and rolled down the ribbon. Some vestige of his ability cushioned the impact, rolled him along a little faster until he could get to his feet and start running away.
Stan had gotten lucky cracking his prison, but surprise wouldn't help him again. He had some of his loot on him. He had to get away and start over in some other city. He could recoup his losses if he was more careful.
Stan fired several blasts at his pursuer as he ran. The ground seemed to move to help him run faster. He needed to get off the street if he wanted to escape his yellow foe. Maybe he could duck into a store, or business, and go out the back.
Leaguer dropped in front of Stan. The bandit pulled up, hands at his sides. Quick glances told him that he could duck for cover in a clothing store if he could distract the hero. He had one shot to arrange that distraction.
"Give it up," Leaguer said. "I don't have time to chase you across Church Hill."
"One step closer, and I'll take you apart," Stan warned. "I'm not going back to prison. Just let me by and I'll get out of town."
"That's tempting, but I don't think so," said Leaguer. "It would go better if you turned yourself in and plead guilty. You could get out of jail and start fresh."
"Now that's tempting," said Stan. "I don't think so."
The two faced each other, trying to stare each other down. Sirens proclaimed that the authorities were on the way. Hands came up, conflicting beams erupting almost as one. Leaguer crashed into a light pole, smoke roiling around his armor. Stan collapsed on the street, stunned by the beamer built into System's golden skin.
Epilogue
Charles Flores rubbed his sore shoulder as he leaned away from his desk. He had gotten a byline reporting the capture of the Quake Bandit. System had loaded the story while he soaked in a bath at home. Stan Cook's last bid had battered him when the vibration had raced through his armor.
"You look like something the cat would just leave outside," Emma Zierling said as she passed Flores's desk. "Get hit by a car?"
"This is what happens when you turn your column in late," Flores said, smiling to cover the pain he felt when he moved. "How are things going with your Fear hunt?"
"I've got it narrowed down to every man in the city and county limits between twenty and seventy-five, who is between four and seven feet tall, and has suffered extreme facial mutilation," Emma said, raising the coffee cup in her hand in a mock toast. "Unfortunately everyone I've talked to can't add to that description in any meaningful way."
"Keep at it," Flores said. "I'm sure you will track him down and drag his every secret to the front page."
"I wish," Emma said. She moved to her own desk which was cluttered with the numerous files she was using for her own column. She sipped her coffee as she looked for the starting point of her next three thousand words.
Flores had already finished his next column. It had nothing to do with the mysteries that surrounded urban living. It was just a filler on volcanos and tidal waves, and speculation on how to counteract them in the future with new technology. He already had the rest of the week's work outlined in his notebooks. He had decided to follow Stan Cook's trial and gather enough material to fill the rest of the month. System had got some details from Cook's arrest record, and that led him to other ideas he could use.
He worked the kinks in his arms, then started editing his rough draft into something readable by the public.