Sunday, February 08, 2009

Rick Daring and The Brilliant 5 – Chapter Fifteen: Triumph and Tragedy

DARING – Has finally cornered his elusive arch-fiend, the Spectre, only to be disintegrated by his personal ion field.

The Spectre cackled as he switched off his ion field. Thick smoke still surrounded him, mingled, he assumed, with the ashes of Richard Darington. He assumed wrong. Through the smoke, a pair of gloved hands grabbed the Spectre and slammed him into the wall. The Spectre could not believe his eyes as the smoke cleared, and his assailant was none other than Rick Daring!
“How can this be?” spoke the Spectre. “You couldn’t possible know that I had a personal ion field generator!”

“I didn’t,” admitted Daring, peeling the glove off of his right hand, revealing a techno-sheath covering his hand. “But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. This,” he continued, indicating the weird device. “Scrambles all sorts of electric devices. It’s very handy in situations when you don’t know what to expect.”

“You think you’re so clever,” hissed the Spectre. From his robes, he drew a Webley. The revolver was pointed directly at Daring. Reluctantly, Daring raised his hands in submission.

Meanwhile, the gunfight between the Spectre’s henchmen and the Brilliant 5 was slowly coming to an end. The Brilliant 5 were using “mercy bullets,” non-lethal tranquilizers created by a great inventor who believed in the reformation of criminals. After not hearing any returned shots, Sara cautiously approached the makeshift barrier that the thugs were hiding behind. They were all lying there unconscious, except for one…

“Where’s Dekker?” asked Sara.

“He must of slipped away during the fight,” remarked Junior.

“Let’s split up and search for him. We can’t let him get away,” said Johnny. They all agreed and went off into different directions. Sara found herself in a large storage area filled with crates. A light over the door illuminated the room. Off, in the distance, she heard a sound and instantly knew that she was not alone. She went over to the door she came in at, and closed it. With her back to the door, she said, “You might as well come out, Dekker. I’m covering the only exit.”

“Or what?” came a voice in the darkness. “That almost sounded like a threat.”

“Bullies use threats,” replied Sara. “I promise you that you’re going back to prison.”

“Is that so?” Dekker immerged from his hiding spot behind a column of crates, a pistol in his hand.

“Are you going to tell your buddies that you needed a gun to take care of me?”

“Maybe. I doubt that you’re much of a challenge.”

“Try me.”

Dekker smirked. “Lady, it’s your funeral.” He suddenly threw the gun at Sara, who was already rolling out of the way. As she was getting to her feet, he came at her, hoping to knee her in the chest. She caught his knee in time, kicking away his other leg. Dekker found himself on the floor; an amused Sara looking down at him.

“Ready to give up?” she asked politely. He charged her, this time expecting her to dodge out of the way. As she moved, he suddenly changed directed, hitting her full on. They both collapsed under the sheer momentum. He throttled Sara as she desperately tried to get him off of her. Sara slammed the palms of her hands against his ears. Dekker screamed as his equilibrium quavered. Sara untangled herself from him, taking a moment to catch her breath.

A moment she didn’t have. Dekker kicked her feet out from under her. As she hit the ground, Dekker gave a kick to the ribs. Sara lay there, as Dekker started to push a pile of heavy crates down on top of her.

Rick Daring was not much better luck than Sara. The Spectre’s Webley was prodding Daring’s vertebrae. The villain insisted Daring bring him to Edwards.

“Why are you so convinced it’s Edwards?” asked Daring as they walked down the corridor towards the main room. “Aren’t you satisfied that you killed three of your colleagues and gave a fourth a complete breakdown?”

“It has to be him,” said the Spectre. “All the evidence pointed to him.”

“What ‘evidence?’ Maybe you’re overlooking the most obvious,” said Daring, turning to face his captor.

“What is that exactly?”

“That it was just an accident. That what happened to you was no one’s fault but your own?”

“Impossible!”

“Why else would you be so determined to blame anyone else except yourself?”

“Shut up!” The Spectre backhanded Daring. “Now get moving.”

Daring opened the doors to the main room, only to find both Marissa and Edwards lying on the ground. Forgetting the Spectre, Daring rushed over to Marissa. She was alive but unconscious. Someone had hit her from behind. Edwards was not so lucky; he had been shot.

“No! I won’t be robbed of my revenge!” shouted the Spectre. Daring ignored him, scanning the big room for any signs of the murderer, but all he saw was the Spectre’s unconscious henchmen. It didn’t make any sense to Daring. The Spectre was with him the whole time and was genuinely disappointed when they found Edwards. Sara and the Brilliant 5 would definitely not have harmed him. Who did that leave? Dekker? Possibly. Was Edwards wounded in the gunfire?

Too many questions, considered Daring. No answers came to mind. He found himself wishing that Sara was here, and that there wasn’t a gun pointed at his back. Daring turned to the Spectre. “You have to turn yourself in.”

“Are you mad?”

“I know you’ve killed at least three people, but I don’t want them to tack on a fourth. Especially since you’re innocent for a change.” The Spectre shoved the Webley into Daring’s face. “I need the police to lockdown the building before the real killer gets away.”

“He’s right,” came Sara’s voice behind him. She was carrying Dekker’s unconscious body. She slowly let Dekker slip to the ground. Her dark hair was ruffled, and a little blood could be seen near her lips. “If you give yourself up now, without a fight, it might buy you some leniency with the courts.”

“And if I don’t?”

The rest of the Brilliant 5 rushed into the room from behind Sara. They easily surrounded the arch-fiend. “Please,” said Sara softly, holding her bruised ribs. “Don’t make this hard on you.” The Spectre looked around, weighting his options, what little he had left.

“It’s over,” said Daring.

A shot rang out. Its loud roar echoed in the spacious room. The Spectre crumpled to the ground.

“Who fired that?” asked Old Timer.

“Spread out!” shouted Teresa. The Brilliant 5 fanned out in search of the mysterious assassin, while Sara tended to the recovering Marissa. Daring bent over the body of the Spectre to check his pulse. The man who had once been Professor Bryant was now dead.

“It’s a shame that you let a petty thing like revenge ruin your life,” said Daring as he reached down closed the dead man’s eyes.

“Sentimental, are you?” came a familiar voice. Out of the shadows came Sergoff. Daring frowned as he found another gun pointing at him.

“So, you were the one Bryant wanted all along,” said Daring. “You framed Edwards and tried to kill Bryant.”

“Yes, luckily he turned out to be a better killer than me, so I just let him do all of the hard work.” Sergoff grabbed Daring and pushed him into an adjacent room before Daring could warn any of the others.

The two men were alone in a small office. “I bet you didn’t think I was such an accomplished actor, yes?” sneered Sergoff.

“You had us all fooled.”

“It’s a shame I have to eliminate you and your meddlesome friends. You might become a hassle to my organization.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” said Daring, his back to Sergoff. His hand grabbed the lamp off the desk, hoping Sergoff didn’t notice.

“Once I’ve gotten rid of you, the others won’t know what hit them. Now please turn around. Even I don’t shoot people in the back.”

“Tell that to Bryant!” Daring spun around and launched the lamp at Sergoff. The lamp hit Sergoff’s wrist, sending the gun to the floor. Daring grabbed Sergoff and laid a solid one on his opponent’s chin. Sergoff tumbled backwards, crushing an unoccupied chair. Daring closed in, but Sergoff kicked out, sending Daring on top of the desk. He rolled off of the desk and onto the floor, taking a chair with him. As Sergoff got to his feet, Daring grabbed the chair in an attempt to pin down his opponent. Grabbing ahold of the chair, Sergoff yanked it out of Daring’s grasp and discarded it. Daring managed to land a blow. The two men slammed against a bookcase and their violent struggling shook the books from their shelves.

Sergoff threw a punch, but Daring ducked under it and tossed Sergoff over his back. That did not slow down Sergoff, but Daring wasn’t ready to call it quits either. For every move Sergoff had, Daring did one better, and soon, after a volley of blows, Sergoff no longer had any fight in him.

Daring grabbed the beaten man and asked, “Why, man? Why did you do it?”

Sergoff’s bruised lips twitched. “You fools, science is not thing that can be given away for free. My work, new inventions, should only go to the privileged.”

“You mean, the highest bidder.”

“To whom I choose. I would not let the Peacemaker fall into the hands of bumbling bureaucrats or even my naïve colleagues.”

“So, you’d selfishly hide it away until you choose who was worthy enough for it. Or rich enough?”

Sergoff laughed. “It’s not just me. We are the Cabal. We will manage the technological growth of our society in return for certain rewards.”

“That’s against everything I stand for!” shouted Daring. “The Brilliant 5 set up the Institutes in order to promote learning and familiarization of science and technology, and you just want to bottle it up and hide it from the world!”

“You don’t even know who we are,” said Sergoff and suddenly slumped forward. Daring checked the man’s vitals. Dead.
Sara and the Brilliant 5 entered the totaled room. “What happened?” asked Sara.

“I caught the murderer,” said Daring. “Unfortunately, he’s dead.”

“Sergoff!” exclaimed Junior.

“Who’d a thunk it?” asked Old Timer.

They let Teresa examine the body. “There’s a small patch attached to the underside of his tongue. When the tongue pronounces certain symbols in order, the patch injects a fast-acting venom into his bloodstream.”

“Sergoff’s confession was his death sentence,” said Daring.

Three days later, far from the troubles of Monument City, Daring stood staring out into the rust-red sky. Behind him, Sara’s bandages were being changed by Doctor Diana Xavier.

“I’m flattered, believe me,” said Diana. “But I’m just a humble geneticist. I don’t really hang out with mad scientists.”

“So, you’ve not heard of any rumors about this Cabal?” asked Sara.

“No, best I can do is some rumors floating around about someone experimenting on humans. You know, homeless, runaways.”
“Something else for us to investigate.”

Diana nodded her head towards Daring. “What’s with Mr. Stoic? He hasn’t said a thing to me the whole thing.”

“Don’t take it personally. Richard’s been taking it pretty hard that he lost our only lead.” Sara involuntarily flinched as Diana tightened the bandages.

“Cults like this all have suicide devices. I should have checked,” said Daring.

“He speaks,” said Diana, handing Sara back her shirt. “If you don’t need me any more, I’ve got a sequencer I need to get back.”
“Thanks for your help, Diana,” said Sara.

“It was nice seeing again, Daring,” replied Diana as she left.

Once they were alone, Sara said, “You’ll find them. You always do.”

“I know. I just don’t like working in the blind.” Daring let a smile crack onto his face. “You never told me how you got Dekker. It sounded like he had you on the ropes.”

“Let’s just say it was a close call,” said Sara returning his smile.

Written by J M Emmons. The story and all characters are copyrighted by J M Emmons.

2 comments:

blueguitar said...

Very nice finish. I like the "mercy bullets" so your heros are not being violent. The patch is an interesting way to solve that cliche of being shot before revealing too much. You left room for a sequel. Nice. Let's just hope the Cabel is not as difficult to catch as Mr. White.

prowl72 said...

The "mercy bullets" are from Doc Savage. Hence the line about the inventor. Doc Savage would take unconscious criminal to an undisclosed location in upstate New York, where he'd excise a part of the brain responsible for violent or criminal impulses, therefore "reforming' the criminal.

A little extreme? Maybe.