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Quirky Row Chapter 23: Breaking the Brotherhood
🕑 Added 2024-11-10 17:00:04 +0000 UTCChapter 23: Breaking the Brotherhood
(Saturday, October 23rd, 2123)
“I’m so, so, sorry!” Rafflesia wept, apologizing to Skunk as she cradled her broken arm. She was kneeling on the ground at the top of the parking lot complex next to the Wolf’s Head, a couple minutes after Maero, Donnie, and the last members of the Brotherhood gang escaped from it.
With morale and resistance from the Brotherhood in the Wolf’s Head demolished by Maero’s abrupt exit, the fighting had quickly ended in an overwhelming victory for the Third Street Saints, and the rest of the dockside compound fell into their hands.
Skunk had exited the building and made his way over to the parking complex immediately after Defender had found him in order to check on his Inner Circle member.
A Saint was already in the process of splinting her arm to help it heal. Her costume was torn in some places and she’d taken off her mask, making it clear she was in pain from the way her face was scrunched up. Both physically and emotionally.
Skunk looked down at his Inner Circle lieutenant, before putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“It’s not your fault,” Skunk assured her. “Maero caught us all off-guard. None of us expected him to try and run. Or for Donnie to actually grow a spine and pull a trick off like that.”
Skunk winced as he gingerly touched his ribs thinking back to the mechanic’s chair-based attack. They didn’t feel broken, but they were definitely sore. His old body ached, in fact, though he was surprisingly intact after falling two or so stories when the rooftop had caved in beneath him and Maero.
“If I’d only pushed harder to capture the complex I could have stopped them, but I was too hesitant and slow!” she cried bitterly.
“Then learn from this and get stronger,” Skunk told her. “Right now, you have to focus on recovering. Defender and Johnny will find that tattooed bastard, you can count on it!”
He then turned to the rest of the Saints standing around. “And that goes for all of you here! This is not your fault! This is not our loss! We won here today! The Saints toppled the Brotherhood, and the leader is nothing more than a lone wolf limping away to die in a ditch! We will find him, and end him!”
Cheers rang out, several Saints firing wildly into air in celebration.
“Alright, that’s enough, chucklefucks! Don’t waste ammo!” Skunk scolded them. “Now hurry up and get ready to bolt! The heroes will be here soon, and I don’t want to have to deal with a bunch of do-gooders right now! You know what that means! Ghetto strip the place!”
Chastised, the Saints spread out and spread the word. Soon, the whole area was empty of the color purple, with everything of value stripped from the compound and the bodies of the fallen Saints removed.
When the heroes arrived on scene, they found the place full of red-clad bodies and little else. Dead Brotherhood were left where they’d been killed, and the few who’d surrendered had been left knocked out and waiting to be arrested in the lobby of the Wolf’s Head.
With no Saints to interrogate, they could only wonder where the Saints would strike next, and what would happen to Stilwater when they did.
111 &&& 111
It was later than evening when Defender came up to Skunk with news. The gang had scattered to the winds, only a handful of members left inside the mission base. Of them, Skunk was staring up at the cross that had the names of the dead on it. He’d spent the hours since the raid silently carving new names into the surface, and was now observing his handiwork. Johnny and Rafflesia sat in the pews nearby, quietly observing the scene.
“Uh, boss? I found ‘em,” his lieutenant said softly, walking over to Skunk’s side.
“Where is he? Where is Maero hiding?” Skunk asked, keeping his eyes fixed onto the cross.
“Well, he’s not really hiding, per se,” Defender admitted. “He’s gone and broken into the Ultor Dome.”
“Isn’t that where he had his Monster Truck Rally?” Skunk asked, looking over at his lieutenant.
“That it is. He took over the place and is currently turned it into a miniature fortress. The heroes and police can’t get in, and he keeps on shouting that he refuses to speak with anyone, or let anyone in, save for you and the Saints. And he shoots at anyone who tries to approach that doesn’t wear purple.”
“Well, shit, he’s calling me out,” Skunk muttered, narrowing his eyes.
“He’s desperate,” Johnny sneered, punching his left fist into his right hand. “He’s down to maybe a dozen men and half that in armored trucks. We can finally destroy him and the Brotherhood!”
“Are we going?” Defender asked.
“We are,” Skunk declared. “We won’t be able to say we defeated the Brotherhood without eliminating Maero.”
“What about the heroes?” Defender inquired.
“They can suck eggs. They’re not the ones who’ve cleaned the Brotherhood off the streets. We did! If they want to try and arrest us after we deal with Maero, then I welcome them to try,” Johnny sneered.
“I agree with Johnny. But we can’t go into this recklessly,” Skunk said. “First, we’re going to grab a few dozen of our best men. We’re gonna arm them, and have them watch our backs when we go inside. They can act as a deterrent to the cops. Defender, you and Johnny will come with me and handful of Saints and confront Maero and whatever dregs he has left. Rafflesia, you stay here and hold down the fort while you recover. Oh! And don’t forget to release onto the internet every last scrap of dirt we’ve dug up on the Brotherhood, their finances, and their associates. Let the public know where the bodies are buried, and that the Third Street Saints are here to clean up the mess.”
“Got it,” Rafflesia nodded, flashing him a mock salute with her unbroken arm.
The next few minutes were a flurry of phone calls and text messages to the rest of the gang. The ones selected to make a ruckus outside of the Dome would encircle the place, staying out of sight of the law, while three disposable cars would drive up to the site and drop off the Saints who’d be cutting down the last dregs of the Brotherhood.
Meanwhile, Rafflesia coordinated with the hacktivists the Saints had recruited to upload all the damning evidence to as many public forums and servers as possible. There was no way the heroes or the Brotherhood would be able to cover up the sheer amount of crime the red-shirted criminals had been responsible for.
It was all coming together, which Skunk was proud to see.
“Before I forget, what was the Ultor Dome being used for when Maero broke in?” Skunk asked as he got into the lead car.
“Um, according to the event schedule… a dirt bike rally. So, expect there to be dirt with plenty of hills and obstacles,” Defender replied, checking the info with his phone.
“Hmm. Perfect place for monster trucks, but also a decent place to have some cover,” Johnny noted from the front seat.
“Indeed. I think we can also expect the cars he rode off in to be there,” Skunk guessed. He then tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Take us to the Ultor dome!”
The Saint-turned-chauffer nodded, and their little purple convoy of violence departed.
The Ultor Dome was predictably swarming with cops and heroes when they arrived, meaning the three Saints aligned vehicles did not go unnoticed for long as they drove up to the stadium.
What was a surprise, at least to Skunk and the rest, was that the police did not shoot them on sight, although the Saints definitely got stink-eyes shot their way.
“What do you want?” a police officer with a frog head demanded, glaring at the purple posey.
“We’re here to eliminate Maero,” Johnny shot back, rolling down the window in order to talk to the cop.
“We have enough trouble with the Brotherhood holing themselves up inside, we don’t need a gang war to break out,” the officer retorted.
“Cool story, bro, but that ain’t your decision. Is it?” Johnny sneered. “Put Troy on the line. I wanna talk to his punk ass.”
The frog cop glared at Johnny, but reached for his radio. “Dispatch, we have the Saints here. They want to speak with the chief.”
There was silence for a minute or two, before the cop’s eyes widened. “Uh, yes, sir. Of course!”
He then passed the radio over to Johnny, who immediately tossed it back to Skunk.
“It’s been a while, Troy,” Skunk said, lifting his gasmask so he could talk properly.
“Phil,” Troy said over the radio, his tone tense.
“It’s Skunk right now. You should know that you gotta use my villain name when we’re on the job,” the leader of the Saints chuckled.
“You know I think that whole schtick is bullshit,” Troy retorted.
“Yeah, I do. I also recall you used to go by the name ‘Hector’ when you ran with us,” Skunk said. There was a muffled, embarrassed groan from the Chief of Police, before Troy composed himself.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
“Passage into the Ultor Dome so I can fuck up Maero,” Skunk said. “This ends tonight, Troy. One way or another.”
“You’re right. It will end tonight. But it will be thanks to the Stilwater PD and the local Hero Agencies,” Troy shot back. “I refuse to allow this to end in a bunch of gangland style killings!”
“But that’s the only way it can end,” Skunk retorted. “You might want to check the internet real quick. From what I can tell, the public is baying for blood, and they won’t accept a mere ‘arrest.’ Especially given the backers Maero has.”
There was a long moment of silence broken only by the faint tapping away at a keyboard, followed by a furious grunt on Troy’s end.
“What did you do?” he demanded, and Skunk smirked.
“I’ve spread every little dirty secret the Brotherhood has accumulated over the years. That includes their backers. You and the mayor are gonna have to clean house. Probably even have to work throughout the weekend, if you want to keep your jobs!” Skunk said with a laugh.
“This is-!” Troy snarled, but he cut himself off and took a deep, calming breath. “This is not the way to do things, Phil!”
“The city tried for years to do things the ‘right way,’ Troy!” Skunk snapped back. “It took you, me, and a literal gang fighting the good fight to do anything about the crime in this shithole! And we did it! For a few glorious months, Stilwater was clean! The lowest crime rate in a literal century! But then I get bombed, you betray the Saints, and the other gangs move in, sinking the city to even lower depths than before!”
“So, let me tell you what is going to happen, Troy. I am going into the stadium with my crew. We are going to kill Maero so he doesn’t escape justice. And he will escape if you and the heroes play it by the book. You’ve seen how many people he has in his pocket. People way too high on the food chain for even you or the Mayor to handle. So Maero has to die. And his supporters have to be dragged into the light. And the only one who can kill that fucker with any sort of legitimacy is me and the Saints.”
Skunk waited for Troy to respond. For a long while there was nothing but silence on the other end of the radio, but eventually a sigh escaped Troy.
“I hate you,” Troy announced. “This is not how things are supposed to work.”
“No. They aren’t. On that, I agree,” Skunk admitted.
“I’ll tell my men to stand down and let you pass unmolested. I’ll claim it’s because I’m waiting for the SWAT to arrive,” Troy begrudgingly said.
“Thanks,” Skunk said gratefully.
“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Don’t,” Troy grumbled.
“Wait, Troy! Before I go and give Maero a lead suppository, can I ask you something?” Skunk inquired, stopping the chief before he could hang up.
“What?”
“Did you ever find out what happened to Julius?” Skunk asked hopefully.
“…Sorry, Phil,” Troy replied morosely. “I tried to figure out what happened to him, but his arrest was completely off the books. Monroe and Monorail worked together in secret, and I don’t know where they stashed him while he was under their care. I do know that he was released the night before you confronted Alderman Hughes, though. I have security cam footage of him being tossed out of a car near Imperial Square in Chinatown. I lose track of him after he leaves the area, unfortunately.”
“So, he got out immediately after I killed that shitty police chief,” Skunk mused.
“Yeah. And then, well, you know what happened next. He just disappeared. I think… I believe Monorail killed him, Phil. That bastard was patrolling in Chinatown around that time.”
“Monorail did have a lot of blood on his boots when I confronted him,” Skunk muttered, mostly to himself. “Shame I didn’t leave enough of him behind to check for evidence. But that’s what happens when someone gets electrocuted and then as a follow-up gets shot with a grenade launcher.”
Skunk sighed morosely and shook his head. “Thanks for letting me know, Troy.”
There was only a wordless grunt as a response. Skunk then passed the handheld device back up to the cop, who took it, and raised it to his ear.
“Sir? Are we letting them through?” he listened for a bit before nodding. “Understood, sir.”
Frog Head then turned back to the convoy. “You can pass,” he said tersely, letting the group get by.
Johnny smirked at him, but didn’t say anything in response. He just tapped the driver and pointed at the entrance to the dome’s parking lot, which had been taken over by law enforcement.
“Whoa, that’s a lotta heroes,” their driver muttered in awe. “Stampede, Crabulon, Oh! And Amber and Silver Swan! Damn, those costumes are tight!”
“Try not to drool too much,” Defender chuckled.
“Think they’d give me an autograph?” the driver wondered.
“In exchange for a pair of handcuffs, maybe,” Skunk snorted. “Anyways, let’s not antagonize them too much.”
By the time the cars parked in front of the Ultor Dome, the heroes had noticed them. They had also been told not to touch the Saints either, if the angry bellowing from the minotaur-esque Number 10 hero was any indicator.
“Alright, folks, you know why we’re here. Let’s get in, finish the job, and get out. And we can have a party at Waffle World afterwards,” Skunk said as he stepped out of the car.
“Hell yeah! 24/7 breakfast, here we come!” a Saint cheered.
That caused some laughter among the group as they walked up to the Dome’s front doors. Metal shutters covered them, blocking entry.
“Oi, Maero, we’re here, just as you asked!” Skunk said, shouting at the entrance. A few seconds later, the shutters lifted. Maero knew they were here, and had accepted the challenge.
Walking inside, Skunk immediately noticed how dark it was. The whole place lacked power, with only the red glow of emergency lights to guide them.
None of the Brotherhood ambushed them, but Skunk hadn’t expected them to. No, Maero would want to do it old school style, with a crowd – or at least a live video feed broadcasting to the internet – to watch his fight.
The followed the path of red lights out into the stadium itself, the interior of the arena shrouded in darkness save for a single spot light beam down to the center of the dirt cover field.
“He wants to make this a gladiator style execution,” Skunk said as he saw the spot light. He could also make out the shapes of vehicles stationed off to the sides, and took note of the various hills, mounds, and ramps of dirt that had been set up for the dirt bikes to tackle. They’d make decent cover.
With a gesture, Skunk ordered his gang members to disperse and encircle the arena while he walked up towards the spotlight. He brought out his handgun, and stood in the circle of light, arms folded.
“I’m here, Maero.”
All around him, the harsh rumble of engines rang out, and headlights flashed on, blinding him for a moment.
He recovered quickly thanks to the tinted lens on his gasmask, and glared ahead at the giant red monster truck in front of him. Behind the wheel of the Behemoth, Maero glared daggers at Skunk.
“I’m going to kill you!” Maero said, his voice booming out over the speakers in the stadium. Up above, the jumbo-tron screens flickered to life, revealing dashcam footage being streamed directly from the Behemoth. “I’m going to run you down and smear you into bloody paste, just like you did to Jessica! And then I’m going to burn your lieutenants alive, just like you did you Matt!”
“You will try,” Skunk sneered, before whipping out his gun and firing at Maero’s windshield.
Unfortunately, the other gang leader had anticipated this, and was using bullet-proof glass in his monster truck, Skunk’s shots bouncing off harmlessly. Maero roared with laughter as he stepped on the gas, accelerating like a missile towards Skunk. The leader of the Saints narrowly avoided being run over as he dove to the side.
And with that, the final battle began.
Through the stadium, the rest of the lights flickered on, revealing the scene; six blood red monster trucks, the same ones that had escape from the Wolf’s Head parking tower, roared to life and began to drive around the dirt-strewn stadium floor, trying to ram Skunk and the other Saints scattered about.
Of course, the Saints weren’t idiots, and had gotten into position before hand, leaping aside and letting the larger vehicles slam into sand traps, hills, and concrete dividers.
It helped that, in a smaller, enclosed space like the arena, the vehicles couldn’t use all their speed, and it was harder to maneuver.
It left the Saints in a much better position. Perhaps, if Skunk had come to fight alone, then it would have been more in the Brotherhood’s favor. But that was not how it turned out, and the Brotherhood was being whittled down.
Johnny fired a grenade through the broken window of one of the monster trucks, and laughed maniacally as it exploded, killing the driver in a gory shower of blood and flames.
Defender turned a safety cone into an indestructible object with his Quirk, and used it as a spike, where it impaled a charging vehicle, destroying its engine and sending the Brotherhood driver flying out the window on impact.
Mink teamed up with another Saint whose Quirk turned things bouncy, and the pink-haired Saint turned into a giant fluff ball that bounced around the arena every time a car hit her. As she bounced about through the air, she fired a pair of handguns, shooting out tires as she went.
A couple of Saints with minor Heteromorphic features hosed down a car with automatic rifle fire, tearing it and the Brotherhood within to shreds.
It wasn’t all going the Saints’ way, though. A Brotherhood goon sniped one of the Saints, hitting his leg and causing him to fall. Another was clipped by a monster truck as it zoomed by. But thankfully, there were no deaths on Skunk’s side just yet.
Speaking of the supervillain, Skunk was playing a game of keep-away with Maero and Donnie, the two men focusing all of their attention on the leader of the Saints as they tried to run him over with their vehicles.
“DIE!” Donnie shouted as he drove at Skunk, only to get a noseful of a foul odor, courtesy of the supervillain’s Quirk. It caused the enraged mechanic to swerve and go off a ramp and then slam into the wall of the stadium, knocking him out.
“Your tricks won’t work on me!” Maero sneered, unbothered by the aroma. “The interior of the Behemoth is air-tight and isolated from the outside! You and your stink can’t touch me!”
“Did you think bad smells were all I could do?” Skunk scoffed as he stared down Maero. As the Behemoth shot towards him, he leapt to the side at the last minute, droplets of transmuted sweat being thrown onto the sand in front of the monster truck. The liquid was then run over, and immediately caused Maero’s tires to squeal and spin out of control.
The Behemoth slammed into a hill of sand, which proceeded to collapse onto the vehicle. Before Maero could reserve out of there, Johnny and Defender leapt into action, and fired their weapons at the rear wheels.
Just like the windows, Maero had gotten tires made of reinforced, bullet resistant rubber, but even they couldn’t stand up to a couple of grenades going off on them, and with a grinding sound, they stopped working.
“BASTARDS!” Maero howled, throwing open the door and leaping out of the wreckage of his truck, his body writhing as a black, liquid armor covered him head to toe.
“His tattoos are protecting him!” Johnny realized.
“How do you like my Ink Armor?!” Maero sneered, rushing forward and clotheslining Defender, who gurgled out in pain as he was thrown onto his back.
Johnny tried to shoot him, but several tendrils emerged from the rippling black armor and knocked the explosive rounds away, letting them explode harmlessly in the dirt.
Maero rushed at Johnny, blades of ink poised to rend flesh, but Mink got in the way, tackling the muscle-bound villain in the side.
She was a tiny woman compared to him, however, and she just bounced off harmless thanks to the ongoing effect of the Bouncy Quirk she’d borrowed.
However, it did serve to distract him for a moment, giving Johnny time to throw aside the grenade launcher and pull an Uzi out from his waist.
The bullets lashed out from the submachine gun, sounding like a swarm of angry bees, but Maero’s Ink Armor blocked them all. The few that got past his whirling tendrils got snagged by the ink covering the body itself and held fast.
“You cannot hurt me!” Maero roared, throwing a punch at Johnny. The ink extended off of him, turning into an oversized fist which crossed the distance and slammed into the Quirkless lieutenant, sending him flying.
“What about this, then?” Skunk taunted, holding up a capsule.
Maero turned towards Skunk, only to blink in bewilderment as Skunk threw the capsule in his hands at his upper chest, where it burst into an opaque liquid that completely soaked into his upper torso.
Wherever the liquid Skunk that was thrown at Maero touched, it caused the ink covering Maero’s body to turn runny, and it was no longer able to stay coherent or under the control of the gang leader’s Quirk and it started to drip off his body.
“What?!” Maero shouted in disbelief as his Ink Armor started to smear and get wiped off, revealing his vulnerable underneath. “What is this stuff? WHAT DID YOU DO?!”
“It’s an ink remover, is all,” Skunk sneered, flicking a few more droplets of transmuted sweat at Maero, causing the ink around his upper torso to dribble away even faster. “You can buy it at literally any crafts store.”
“You think this is funny?! It’s not! This isn’t over!” Maero snarled, taking a threatening step towards Skunk with several sharp looking tendrils bursting out of the rest of the ink on his body, the deadly appendages poised to strike, only to stagger back as a gunshot rang out, and a red splotch appeared on his chest.
“Yes, it is,” Skunk said calmly, his handgun pointed directly at the larger man’s chest. He fired again, and again. Two more rounds were fired, both hitting Maero in the chest and knocking him off his feet and onto his back.
Skunk then calmly walked over and put two more rounds into his head before he could recover. The first bullet was stopped by the ink armor around his face, but the second one tore through and went straight into his throat, leaving him to gurgle wetly on his own blood.
“And then, there was one,” Skunk muttered as the life left Maero’s eyes and the ink stopped moving, reduced to a normal substance no longer under the control of a Quirk.
Once he was absolutely certain the man was dead, Skunk turned his head over to glare at Donnie’s vehicle that’d gotten wrecked a little earlier.
He glanced over at Johnny. “Finish this,” he ordered, gesturing to the remaining Brotherhood members who’d yet to be killed, before stalking over to the truck the Brotherhood’s final lieutenant had been in.
As Skunk approached, the door to the truck was kicked open and Donnie tumbled out, clearly still in a daze after he hit the wall.
“Kill you… I’m going to kill you!” Donnie slurred out, a no doubt stolen police revolver shaking a bit in his hands. “For Lin!”
He fired at Skunk, but the supervillain merely stepped aside. Add in the poor aim and concussion, and Donnie couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.
Skunk quickly got up close as Donnie’s revolver clicked empty, and he punched the blue-haired mechanic in the face, knocking him flat on his back.
“I’ll never forgive you!” Donnie blubbered, trying to sit up and face Skunk. “You took Lin away from me!”
“Lin never loved you,” Skunk declared, stomping violently on Donnie’s right wrist, forcing him to let go of the gun.
“Shut up!” Donnie shouted. “Lin loved me! She and I were going to leave Stilwater and make a life together! A better life than what this cesspool of a city could provide!”
“You were a mark. A patsy. A source of information,” Skunk stated, bending down to look Donnie in the eyes while removing his gas mask so he could do just that.
“Shut up!” the mechanic repeated.
“If you’d really loved her, you would have tried to save her, to talk your boss out of murdering her in cold blood,” Skunk said darkly. “Instead, you ran away like a coward, and let a monster kill her.”
“SHUT UP!” Donnie screamed, but Skunk didn’t stop. He kneeled down, putting a knee onto the mechanic’s chest so he couldn’t escape.
“You killed two lives that day with your cowardice,” Skunk spat out, causing Donnie to look at him in confusion.
“I-I didn’t! You’re still alive, you bastard!” Donnie retorted.
“Lin was pregnant when she died,” Skunk revealed, causing Donnie to shut up and stare at him, eyes wide. “But she never slept with you, did she? It wasn’t yours. It was mine.”
“Liar… liar, liar, LIAR!” Donnie blubbered, trying to deny the truth being told.
“Twice, now, you’ve helped monsters hurt other people. And twice I’ve killed those same men you’ve served. There is no third chance for you, Donnie,” Skunk declared, pointing his handgun at Donnie’s forehead.
There were no further words. He pulled the trigger, and painted the mechanic’s brains all over the floor.
He then stood up, dusted himself off, and turned to his gang members, who were all silently watching him, dead Brotherhood and wrecked vehicles scattered about the stadium floor.
“Johnny, what’s the situation look like outside?” he demanded, walking over to his right-hand man while putting his mask back onto his face.
“Police are crawling around the back entrance, looking to break in ever since the shooting started. Heroes are looking like they’re gonna charge in soon, too, but from the front,” the Asian-American replied.
“What’s stopping them?” Skunk asked.
“From the sounds of things, we still have dear old Troy to thank for that,” Johnny said, and Skunk scoffed. Johnny smirked at that.
“Yeah, that was my reaction, too, but it seems he’s holding everyone’s reigns, not wanting to get into a confrontation with us in an enclosed space like this. Which is smart, ‘cause we’d totally tear ‘em to shred if they tried, but the law enforcement is getting antsy, and I think a couple heroes will break protocol and just assault us soon, and damn the consequences. Oh, and they put boots on the cars we drove in with, so that escape option is a no-go, too.”
“Well, shit,” Skunk sighed, rubbing his forehead. He then looked around the arena, eyes darting over the burning wrecks that’d used to be vehicles. A crazy idea popped into his head, as he did so, however.
“Defender, this place was gonna hold a dirt bike rally or something?” Skunk asked, and his Inner Circle member nodded.
“Yeah, motocross or the like,” he replied.
“Then would those vehicles still be in here for us to use?” Skunk asked, and Defender tilted his head to the side thoughtfully.
“I don’t know, but I’ll send someone to go check it out,” he replied, then turned to one of the uninjured Saints standing nearby. “Go see if the bikes for the event were stashed here!”
The Saint saluted and ran off, returning shortly with good news.
“There’s a whole bunch of ‘em in the garage, just waiting to be taken!” he informed the group.
“Then that’s our ticket out of this place,” Skunk declared. “Johnny, tell the guys outside to make some noise while we bust out of here in style!”
The Saints whooped in victory, and all of them rushed off to grab a ride.
Outside, things were getting tense among the heroes and police officers.
“Why are we still waiting around here?” the Number 10 hero, Stampede, grunted in annoyance.
“The chief doesn’t want us to try anything until SWAT gets here,” a police lieutenant explained testily.
“That a lot of firepower for a dozen or so gangbangers,” the Number 7 heroine, Amber, muttered.
“Well, we are dealing with one of the most prolific gang bosses and supervillains the city has ever known,” Silver Swan, Stilwater’s Number 1 heroine, said demurely, trying to placate the emotions of the group. “I understand why the Chief of Police wants to do this by the book and with as much force as he can muster.”
“I mean, I get that he’s a threat – and an apparent Neo-Nazi as well – but I’d hardly call Maero all that,” a lesser hero not in the Top 15 rankings muttered off to the side.
“Who said I was talking about that oversized, ink-stained brute?” Silver Swan said with a giggle.
“That’s it! I’ve had it with standing around like slack-jawed idiots! We’re heroes, damn it! We should be busting in there and arresting them! After kicking their asses!” Stampede snarled.
Amber opened her mouth to scold him, only to be interrupted as a dozen dirt bikes suddenly came roaring out of the Ultor Dome, tearing past the police blockade and zipping away through the parking lot and then out onto the open road before anyone realized what was happening, let alone stop them.
“WOOO! SAINT’S RULE!” one of the people on the dirt bikes shouted as they zoomed past onto the mean streets of Stilwater.
“We did it, boss!” Defender laughed as they drove off, leaving the stunned law enforcement in the dirt behind them. “I can’t believe it!”
“Heh. One down, two to go,” Skunk vowed solemnly. “Now let’s ditch those pigs and capes and get some grub! Waffles are on me tonight!”
