The Infinite Seven: Super-powered defenders of Stevenson Illinois and CIU. The Adept, aka Rick Pennington - master of mystical movement; Cazmonster, aka Caz Greenbaum, super-strong cyber-werewolf; Palisade, aka Steven Chen - biosuit powered defender; Angela, aka Angela Hughes - vampire hero; The Gray Robe, aka Sydney Koenig - Druidic mistress of the Earth; The American Attitude, aka Barry Stills - Hyper-sensory, skateboarding streetfighter; and Triumph, aka Stan “Steel” York - Super-speedster.
Having returned from Chicago after defeating the Milan Syndicate’s Nexer shock troops, the heroes have settled in to heal, rest, and just be normal students for a while. Easier for some than others, as The Adept and Cazmonsters’ identities are both publically know.
Caz stands in the quad on a sunny day, dozens of fans watching as he tosses a frisbee to Steven Chen. In the darkness underneath a heavy tree, Angela, wearing dark sunglasses, sits talking to Sydney. Around her, Sydney is absent-mindedly growing small plants.
“Caz says he thinks Aaron had something to do with the druggie super-soldiers getting their supply cut off. Something about a ninja in Italy,” Angela says, staring absently into the air.
“Could be. I never met the man, myself. I hear he’s pretty damned effective with that sword,” Syd nodded.
“Amazingly so,” Angela said, her face unreadable, but her voice having a certain wistful quality.
“Do I have a certain female yearning in that sigh?” Syd asked, somehow being both blunt and endearing.
Angela snorted, the first sign of a sense of humor Syd ever remembered seeing in her.
“No, noooo, nooooo no no no,” Angela replied playfully. “It’s just...the old times, if you can call it that. Aaron, my friend Emily and I, we worked together a few times before I officially joined I7. Without him her, and with Emily gone, it just seems...different.”
“Yeah, I talked to your friend Emily the other day, remember? You should give her a call, let her know you’re working finding Aaron.”
“Oh, I did. That same night, and again when we got back. Still, I’m sure it’s tearing her up. They were pretty close, and he didn’t handle it well when she moved on. I don’t think she really even wanted to; she just felt like it would be better if they were apart while they were miles apart.” Angela continued to stare into the air in front of her. The frisbee sailed right toward her head, and with vampiric reflexes, she snagged it out of the air as if the arm had a mind of its own.
Steven came jogging up in red shorts and a gray T-shirt, sweat dripping down his face. “Hey, you going to the cook-out at Langley tonight?” he asked Angela. Angela didn’t live in Langley, but she was now a CIU student.
“Um, I don’t know. Are you asking me?” she said with mock suspicion.
“Well, I guess so,” Chen said in his Chinese accented English.
“Sure, why not. Pick me up at 6?”
Chen nodded and retrieved the frisbee. “Great. See you then!”
Meanwhile, in Tibet..
Another rainy evening had given way to early morning in Nirmala’s clinic. Her bedroom and a small kitchen were in the back. Aaron cursed as he bumped his foot into a metal cat bowl Nirmala kept on the floor.
The young doctor had been kind enough to let Aaron stay there a couple of days while he recuperated and got more information on the Milan agents coming to get that rare extract needed in the production of Nex. Nirmala looked up at Aaron from her sleeping bag on the clinic floor.
“How are you able to hunt and actually stop super-villains in the States when you can’t even walk across a room without stubbing your toe on something you know is there?” she giggled.
“Ha ha. It just so happens I’m still a little weak on my feet. It’s a balance issue,” Aaron replied defensively.
“Well, you’d best overcome that issue before you decide to go battling the forces of evil here in Tibet.”
Aaron nodded. “Agreed. Unfortunately, I doubt I have the time.” Aaron stepped over Nirmala and looked out the window of the front door. “They’re coming. It has to be soon. I’m not sure how I got in front of them, but they should be here by now.”
“Maybe they’ve come and gone,” Nirmala offered.
“I thought of that. There is still a large surplus of extract in storage on the edge of town. I’ve identified the owner, an international shipping company owned by a parent corporation that’s in the same building as the Milan holds their meetings in.” Aaron stared out the window certainly.
Nirmala came up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. “You need to relax and let yourself heal,” she said.
It felt good, a warm, soft hand touching him. Aaron shook the sensation away. “I’ll heal when this is done. The Milan’s been responsible for too much death and destruction. It ends here. No more Nex.” Aaron opened the door and, dropping lower, stepped out into the street.
“Get back inside! They’re here!” he gestured. Nirmala wasn’t fond of the idea of letting Aaron handle this in his wounded state, but she was no crime-fighter. She backed into the house and closed the door. Seconds later, she tossed Aaron’s equipment back out into the street.
Aaron nodded “thanks” and approached the bag. As he did, a jeep pulled around the corner. Tumbling to avoid the headlights, Aaron grabbed the bag and rolled into the alley as Nirmala closed the door.
The jeep was driven by a well dressed black man that Aaron actually recognized, a native of Kenya who worked for the Milan as an enforcer, just as his alter-ego Mikolaj had done. This guy was a bad-ass, for certain. Aaron took note that when it came to combat, he needed to deal with this guy fast. Also in the jeep were two men of mediterranean appearance. They all wore casual, very utilitarian clothing, common for foreigners in the mountainous and harsh Tibet climate. Aaron took note of an automatic rifle, probably an M-4, sitting on the dash.
The jeep was forced to go slow through the narrow and pot-hole ridden streets, while Aaron followed sleekly along in the shadows. He’d put on the black jacket he’d purchased in the village, and the spare kung-fu slippers he kept in his bag. His ninja-to was slung across his back, and the rest of his weapons were within easy reach in the bag.
The jeep came to a stop in front of the storage area, a rickety old converted barn. A couple locals, an old man and a younger one, opened the gate, and the jeep drove in. Aaron waited until the gate was closed, and then launched himself into the air, grabbing the gap in one of the higher boards and pulling his feet up to press against the barn wall. Pain shot through his leg, and Aaron realized his landing against the side of the wall had been louder than he’d hoped. Wings made everything easier, but they’re also let him get sloppy.
Aaron listened to the exchanged inside, and watched as the locals helped the Milan agents pack the large cartons into the jeep. When they were almost done, one of the men from the jeep suddenly pointed a pistol at the wall above the door.
“What’s that?” he said, firing at the shadow he noticed through the cracks in the boards. Aaron barely had time to flip to the ground. The maneuver was mostly silent, but it caused the stitches in his leg to rip. It was all he could do not to cry out in pain.
Now the clock was ticking. Aaron was losing blood and the fight hadn’t even started. Time to get this done, he thought. Running full speed at the door, Aaron flew through the air with one foot out, smashing the old wood. As he fell toward the ground, he threw a vial, a chemical concoction created by Steven Chen. As the men tracked Aaron’s landing and prepared to shoot, the chemicals combusted, and a bright flash was produced, leaving them temporarily blinded. Aaron’s goal was the jeep, and as such, he tumbled towards it and sprinted through the pain shooting down his leg to the toes. As he rounded the corner at the back of the vehicle, he found the Kenyan quite prepared. The large, powerfully built man caught a glimpse of Aaron’s image and spun, kicking where Aaron had been. The dent was powerful enough to dent the side of the jeep; fortunately, Aaron was no longer there, but had ducked behind the man. Slamming the hilt of his sword into the back of the man’s skull, Aaron watched as his opponent swayed from the blow.
Aaron pulled what remained of his explosive and tossed it into the back of the jeep, just as he felt the point of a gun behind his ear. Aaron took a chance, and dropped to the ground. The man fired, but the bullet hit the Kenyan, striking him in the shoulder.
“Argh! You stupid bastard!”
Aaron pivoted on the ground and broke into a run, throwing three shuriken behind him as he did so. Surprised by the flashy metal objects flying toward him, the gunman momentarily covered his face with his gun arm. That was enough time for Aaron to disappear into the clutter of the old barn.
The explosion tore through the old wood, knocking both the gunman and the Kenyan clear, but also rendering them unconscious and badly burned. His mission accomplished, Aaron ran at the final gunman. He ducked under the man’s aim, and came in so fast the man was still holding his gun arm up. This Aaron took, and used it to maneuver the man around. Putting his ninja-to sheath against the man’s windpipe, he choked him into unconsciousness.
The locals had long since vacated. Probably a good thing. Aaron realized they were doing this because they needed the money. If this experience scared them straight, he’d consider his job done. If not, well, the local law enforcement would have to deal with it.
Aaron limped his way back to Nirmala’s clinic, blood running down his leg. When he arrived, she was there, ready to treat his wounds, like an old friend would treat a broken heart.
“Where will you go next, now that you’ve done what you came for?” she asked as they settled in to finish the night. It was still several hours until dawn.
“Back home, I guess,” Aaron answered. But that didn’t seem right. He’d been through a lot the last few weeks. He needed a rest, not to strap wings on his back and fight bad guys. “On second thought, maybe I’ll hang around and see the sights. Not every day you’re in Tibet!” he said.
Nirmala shrugged. “I’m in Tibet every day,” she said softly, with a gentle smile.
Aaron smiled back. “Tell you what. You come with me for a few days, and then we can head back to the states. I have an uncle in Chicago I could stay with for a few weeks, and you could be my private doctor.”
Nirmala frowned. “I’ll stay with you as long as you’re here, and I’d be glad to travel around the area. But Chicago? No. My place is here. I have people who need me.” Her cat rubbed against her leg, reminding her “and animals.”
Aaron bobbed his head. “Okay. Tomorrow, then, we hit the town, so to speak.”
Nirmala had finished re-stitching Aaron’s wound. “Tomorrow,” she agreed.
Back in Stevenson...
Rick Pennington turned on his camera, and the image of Tim O’Malley, and his girlfriend Megan, appeared. Rick was surprised, but quickly recovered his expression. “Hey, guys,” he said in an uncharacteristic tone. Rick was trying too hard to be casual, he realized.
“Rick, you remember Megan?”
Rick nodded. No point in denying; his ID was public knowledge, and she’d seen him as The Adept. “Hello, Megan. Feeling better?”
She grinned a broad smile. “Yes, thanks in no small part to you teleporting me out of that battle. You risked your life.”
Rick tipped his head. “No problem, glad I was there to help. And glad you have such a great boyfriend there to call us in when you were in trouble.”
Tim clutched Megan’s arm, and she reached over and touched his hand. “He is great. As long as he doesn’t keep any more secrets from me, I think I’ll keep him.”
They talked for a few minutes, and Rick left the conversation feeling he’d done good.
Suddenly Caz burst into the room. “Yo, I got an e-mail from Aaron!”
Rick looked up. “Where is he?”
“Tibet! And doing fine.”
“When’s he coming back,” Rick asked.
Caz calmed a little. “He’s not, not for a while at least. He’s taking the rest of the semester off, maybe the rest of the year. He said he’ll be staying in Chicago in a couple weeks.”
Rick was a little annoyed at the lack of detail, but deep down, he was relieved. His friend was alright. Time would answer the rest.
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