Chapter 139

Chapter 139

The aircraft streaked through the dry air, pockets of human life streaking by. Three of the four heroes on the ship sat together in relative silence, their eyes focused, their jaws set, their minds on what they needed to do. According to the anonymous tip, Queen August was going to be attacking a private gallery show of jewelry and rare gemstones in the middle east. She had arrived in Syria before moving south-east before pivoting straight for Iran. They’d hoped to catch her along the way but had inevitably been forced to change tactics, aiming for the small city on the border of Iran and Pakistan where the show was being held.

“Still seems a little iffy to me that it would be held there,” Breach said, rubbing his neck a little and scowling. He leaned back in his light gear, ASTA had made it specifically to work with his phasing ability. He glanced to the right and frowned at the new guy. “You seem relaxed.”

Luca had found one of the benches in the aircraft to be the most comfortable of them all and had strapped himself in, laying down on it and admiring the blandness of the ceiling. He grinned a little to himself, his eyes closed behind his sunglasses. It had taken forever for him to get to this point but he was finally here. Finally on his first probationary mission with the International Team. He didn’t let that kill his vibe, though, there was something to be said about maintaining a consistent demeanor even when not in the ‘public’ eye.

Not that these eggs get it, sour bunch. He thought and his lip twitched. Heh, Sour eggs. He chuckled again and glanced down at the guy who’d called him out, tilting his sunglasses down a little, “Hey are you scrambled or over easy?” He asked with a snicker.

Breach gave him a baffled look before turning to the hero sitting next to him. Fontaine, their group healer, sighed and shook his head, his ponytail bobbing a little bit. Breach’s eyes fluttered with momentary annoyance before a new voice spoke up. “He’s calling you an egg, or rather a clown,” the woman sitting a bit apart from the rest of them said. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was frowning at the floor. Her gear seemed to be tailored to her body and made of some kind of tight fitting fabric that could stretch easily. Unlike the off-white of Fontaine and Breach’s gear, it had been dyed and stylized to a rather vicious looking grey-red color scheme.

She looked up, her glowing red eyes turning towards First Wind, “Could you please not antagonize the support team?” Protean asked, “This is your first mission and I’m monitoring you.”

He snorted and sat up, resting his arms on his knees. He sniffed the air, Gunpowder and Blood, nice. “Then keep watchin,” He said, “Cuz Imma get to work if you don’t mind,” He said and unclasped his restraints.

“Pardon? We’re not at the target location yet, we’re at least five minutes out, sit-” She began but he was already walking to the rear of the aircraft. He slapped the button to open the ramp and fresh air washed over him. He closed his eyes and took it all in, the rapid winds, the dry heat, the strength of the sky in this place. “First Wind! We aren’t at the target location!”

“You aren’t, I am,” He said with a glance over his shoulder and a smarmy grin, Losers. He thought before turning around and falling backwards off the craft. There was a shout as he fell through the air, his floral shirt flapping about him, his chest exposed to the sunlight. He sneered a little, “Let’s fuckin’ go,” He hissed and embraced the wind. Everchanging. Unstoppable. The air pressure above him decreased while the air pressure beneath him skyrocketed. With a shift and a flip he was standing in the air. He altered the air pressure in front of him next, dropping it to next to nothing before increasing the pressure behind himself steadily. Faster, faster, faster, he pushed himself along before stabilizing the air pressure above him and turning into a rocket that shot across the terrain beneath him. Just up ahead was the city.

He paid no attention to the buildings, he followed the air, that smell. Blood. He could hear it now too, sirens and shouting. It was faint on the aircraft but now it was getting delightfully close. He barked out a laugh as he neared his destination, “Someone’s having a good time!” He shouted and slid to a stop, rising up above the city and looking down at the large solitary building. It was gaudily built with all those weird modern shapes to it, cops had formed up around it and were moving civilians away. His lip twitched and he raked his eyes over it, Iron sidings, lockdown huh? Civvies are trapped inside then, no big, this whole gallery show thing sounds shady as fuck. Might as well bring the whole building down on ‘em and save the trouble. She’s definitely inside.

He held out his hands and got to work. Urging the wind through the city streets. Sand and bits of trash began to bounce about as he pivoted and pulled, dragging the wind about slowly, turning it as he adjusted the air pressure and temperature. Good thing I practiced! He thought merrily, This power is hard to control. He clenched his fists and began pulling harder, more wildly, C’mon baby, gimme a tornado! Let's go! Tornado in the desert! He barked out a wild laugh, Come on, come on, come on! Party time people!

He threw his hands down before swaying and pulling them up, the wind that he had been gathering around the city to peel off those annoying plants changed direction. He pulled his hands together, clasping them hard as the wind slammed into the three approaching figures. They crashed into one another in a tangle of limbs and he hurled them into the air just as a body flew past him. He turned his attention back to the single statue and the cops. It raised its weapon and brought it down on the car they were standing behind, cleaving it in half and pulling one piece out of the way to get to them.

He clicked his tongue and glanced up as he picked up on something in the air, “Fun’s over I guess,” He muttered and glanced up at the Pandora aircraft shifting its wings and entering a hovering posture. That was when he saw what had happened to the three statues he’d thrown. They landed on panels of hard light and quickly extricated themselves from one another before turning their attention to the aircraft.

Wait. Hard light? He whipped his head around, No way. She’s here?

He grinned wildly, “She’s here! Hell yes!” He laughed, “Sorry Protean! Fun time ain’t over yet!” He howled and cut loose as more of the statues began to march out of the portal, the brutal things marching towards him as the screams of men desperately fighting the solitary statue fell on deaf ears. He raised his hands high and called on the wind. Even if air pressure wasn’t in his playbook right now, he could just bring a fucking hurricane down and eliminate any witnesses. He clenched his fist and called on all of the wind he could, pulling from all around him, forcing the air through the entire city to move faster and faster.

“Come on out Ishtar!” He shouted, “I’mma make a name for myself today!” He bellowed.

Buildings shook, men screamed, the world creaked, and an explosion sounded overhead. He didn’t care even as one of the statue things fell to the ground and got back up, badly burned but still mobile. It turned its eyes on him and he grinned at it. It lowered its weapon and tilted its head, an odd posture for such a rigid thing. Then its eyes changed color, turning into a blazing hot pink.

“Next time, perhaps, First Wind. I’ve got what I came for,” Came a raspy voice.

He blinked, “Huh?”

“Farewell, little hero. Perhaps focus on the job in the future?” It mocked him before it bowed its head and dissolved into motes of light.

First Wind’s eyes went wide as more motes of light rose into the air. He felt his air pressure feature return and he spun towards the gallery. “Oh you gotta be kidding me,” He laughed and wrenched one of the metal panels off the glass wall before twisting his hand and ripping the glass out. He darted inside and found nothing but corpses. Gold was splattered everywhere, the floor, the ceiling, golden bullets, golden rocks, golden people, but there was no sign of Queen August. He licked his lips, “She delayed me,” He mused, Just like Vegas and Black Lotus, huh? She doesn’t like direct fights. Noted.

“First Wind!” Protean called out behind him, “What happened here? What the hell were those things? Breach is hurt, Fontaine’s looking after him.”

He glanced over his shoulder and grinned, tilting his sunglasses down, “I just fought Ishtar apparently,” He said with a laugh.