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Quirky Row Chapter 17
🕑 Added 2024-09-10 17:00:04 +0000 UTCChapter 17: Jailbait
(Saturday, September 25th, 2123 (early afternoon))
“Well, it looks like another dead end,” Pierce sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration as he put his phone down. Shaundi helpfully placed a glass of water in front of him. There was also a joint to go with it instead of aspirin, but it was the thought that counted.
“Still no info on why Jessica was transporting several hundred pounds worth of fucking Nazi gold?” Playa asked curiously.
“Nada. I’ve looked into a bunch of different skinhead groups from all across the country that are known associates of the Brotherhood, including one Canadian chapter of the Aryan Association, but there’s nothing about gold, Nazi or otherwise, that’s popped up.”
“Could it be gold from somewhere else they stamped with the symbol?” Shaundi inquired.
“Yeah, wasn’t Fort Knox attacked by villains like, a bunch of times since the dawn of Quirks?” Playa suggested. “Surely some gangs managed to make off with a few bricks of gold.”
“Maybe, but not likely. All the gold stolen over the years from Fort Knox barely adds up to half the amount Jessica was carrying,” Pierce said. “Officially, at least. Unofficially? I’m still thinking the answer is ‘no.’ People underestimate just how heavy gold is, and all the villains who did attack were caught during or shortly afterwards, so very little that was stolen actually disappeared.”
“Makes sense,” Playa hummed, before shaking his head. “Well, it’s only been a day so far. Keep at it.”
“Sure thing, Playa,” Pierce assured him. There was silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being Pierce tapping away at his phone, and Playa clacking away at a keyboard. Shaundi was lying on a coach she’d dragged in a couple days ago and was blowing smoke rings into the air with a bong.
“So… was it worth it?” Pierce asked, breaking the silence as he looked up at Playa from his phone. “Doing what you did to the Brotherhood – to Maero – yesterday?”
“I don’t regret it, I just… I got so wrapped up in it, I completely forgot to interrogate Jessica on information about this mysterious ‘shipment’ the Brotherhood have been all a buzz about,” Playa said with a frown. “And I have a feeling it’s connected to the gold somehow.”
“Well, nothing we can do about it now except try and figure out what’s so important about this shipment,” Shaundi said. “Hey, where’s Johnny?”
“He had a dinner date with Aisha last night. Real romantic stuff. Probably still recovering from the ‘fun’ they had afterwards,” Playa chuckled. “So glad I moved out. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume the two of them have some sort of noise-based Quirks from how loud they get.”
“Awww. Also, ewww,” Shaundi said, sticking her tongue out in disgust.
“I think it’s cute how they act like love-sick teenagers around each other. And they both deserve it after everything the two of them have been through,” the leader of the Saints replied. All of a sudden, Playa’s phone began ringing. “Hang on, getting a call.”
“Hey! Playa, turn on the news!” Johnny ordered as soon as Playa answered the call. “Channel Six! NOW!”
“Okay, geez,” Playa muttered. He glanced at Pierce. “Hey, mind pulling up the Channel Six news feed?”
“Sure,” Pierce agreed, whipping out his phone and surfing the apps until he pulled up the right one. Soon, all three of them were crowded around Pierce, looking down at his tiny phone screen.
On it, the pretty reporter, Jane Valderamma, could be seen standing in front of the courthouse along with a large crowd in the background, several vehicles pulling up as well.
‘No, wait, that’s not a crowd… that’s a bunch of Brotherhood goons!’ Playa soon realized, recognizing the tattoos anywhere. ‘What is going on?’
Soon enough, he had his answer.
“In a surprising turn of events several members of The Brotherhood are being released today,” Jane announced, the camera zooming in on the dozens of Brotherhood gangsters cheering and celebrating their newfound freedom. “A previously thought open/shut case turned into a fierce legal battle as several high-power attorneys fought tooth and nail for their client's freedom. Curious about the court proceedings, I spoke to Chief of Police, Tony Bradshaw.”
The screen soon switches to an earlier interview, with Jane standing in front of a familiar man that had Playa clenching his hands into fists.
‘He’s barely changed at all,’ he thought, glaring at the man in the police uniform.
“Mr. Bradshaw, what do you think about the unusually quick decision for the courts to release almost a hundred Brotherhood members back onto the streets?” Jane inquired curiously, putting a microphone in front of Troy’s face.
“My personal opinion on the trial doesn't really matter, they were found innocent by a jury of their peers,” Troy Bradshaw said, though from the grimace he wore, he was furious with the outcome.
“So you think they were guilty,” Jane Valderamma pressed, eager for scandal. Unfortunately for her, Troy was used to vultures like her, and brushed her off.
“I’m sorry, Jane. Listen, I have to get back to work… but, hey, why don’t you try talking to Dane Vogel,” the Chief of Police suggested, throwing the man under the bus.
There was a transition, and soon the clip showed that Jane was standing in front of the face of Ultor, Dane Vogel himself.
“Mr. Vogel! What’s Ultor’s interest in the trial?” she demanded, the microphone nearly being shoved up the capitalist’s nose.
“Ultor has no interest in the trial other than to see criminals put behind bars,” he replied with a stock smile that fooled nobody.
“So there’s no truth to the speculation that the Brotherhood’s lawyers are in Ultor’s pockets?”
Dane Vogel frowned at that, an offended expression plastering itself onto his face. “Jane, we’ve donated millions of dollars to the Stilwater PD, as well as rebuilt the shattered community of Saint’s Row. I understand that everybody likes to pick on the big bad corporations, but this latest groundless attack on Ultor’s integrity is just ridiculous!”
The scene cut away from Dane Vogel, and back to Jane standing in front of the courthouse while the Brotherhood cheered behind her as they filed onto buses and other transports to be taken back to drop-off points.
However, there were other people in the crowd, watching it while also keeping the civilians away. Heroes, if the costumes were anything to go by.
“Behind me the men and women loading up onto these buses are being given another chance at freedom...but the question remains, are we also giving them another chance at a life of crime?” Jane wondered, though from the way she was frowning, she already believed the answer was a resounding ‘Yes!’
“And in addition to the mass release of ‘former’ gang members, several heroes have stepped up and volunteered to help escort the men and women to prevent any retaliation from other gangs. Is this because the heroes believe the law must be followed regardless of who it protects, or is it due to some other reasons? I’m Jane Valderamma, best damn reporter for Channel 6 News...back to you, Jack!”
Pierce closed the news stream before it could switch over to a different newscaster and looked over at Playa with a worried expression.
“Well, shit,” Playa uttered. “This complicates things.”
“All that effort getting those guys locked up after the clusterfuck that was Wednesday, and now they’re going free?” Shaundi griped.
“Sounds like you’ve just seen the same shit I did!” Johnny’s voice growled out through Playa’s phone.
“Pierce, I want you to get some people on this issue,” Playa instructed.
“You mean, like, have some Saints ready to bust Brotherhood heads?"
“No. I mean, yes, get the gang on high alert. We’re not going after the Brotherhoods. These criminals were acquitted. They’re technically innocent. But that doesn’t mean we can’t display our displeasure with the system,” Playa replied. “Today, we’re not going after the gangbangers, we’re throwing hands with the ‘heroes’ who’ve decided to protect them.”
Shaundi and Pierce looked at each other, grinning widely and savagely. Meanwhile, Johnny Gat was laughing darkly.
“Oh, that is brilliant!” Johnny cackled.
“I want you to dig up as much dirt as you can on the heroes who ‘volunteered’ for prisoner protection duties. Find out which of them are taking bribes from the Brotherhood, and which are just racists,” Playa ordered Pierce. “Then, I want you to discover which legal teams and judges were bought out to let this happen. And, if possible, figure out why Ultor decided to side with the Brotherhood all of a sudden.”
“Can do, boss!” Pierce said.
“Good. Johnny? Gear up. Then pick me up from the mission. We’re going hunting,” Playa said.
“What about me?” Shaundi asked.
“Suit up as Rafflesia and show the flag. Keep the Brotherhood and any other gangs out of our territory. Remind them we fucked ‘em up once, and we can do it again,” Playa requested, and the green-haired lieutenant nodded.
Ten minutes later, Playa was in his villain costume and getting into a familiar convertible with Johnny, the bags of guns in the backseat a comforting sight. They drove off, wandering the streets for a bit, until a call came in.
“Talk to me,” Johnny instructed as he hit the speaker button on his cellphone.
“The leader of the hero volunteers is none other than your old pal Taggit, the Number Four hero,” Pierce explained to Johnny and Skunk as the two drove through the streets in pursuit of the freed criminals.
“Ah, that guy. He was pretty weak,” Skunk recalled.
“You caught him by surprise,” Pierce warned. “Normally, Taggit’s combat style revolves around ‘tagging’ people in close combat, then using special tranquilizer darts to subdue his opponents. Or tagging limbs to make them snap together and make it harder to move.”
“Ah, I see. He ‘tags’ villains with his Quirk and then it lets him home in on them with support items,” Skunk realized. “Yes, I remember how annoy it was back at the courthouse.”
“Yup. Once he touches you, that part is marked and he can almost always hit it again,” Pierce stated. “He’s number four for a reason. His personality sucks, but he’s got a ridiculous arrest record. And don’t get me started on when he decides to get serious! I’ve seen him throw projectiles that curve midflight and that go around tight corners to pursue the target.”
“Weaknesses?” Johnny inquired.
“The spot he tags you with his Quirk only lasts a couple minutes. An hour at the most,” Pierce supplied. “Plus, the major one is that he has to touch you, first.”
“Hey Pierce, if he tags an article of clothing, does his Quirk only affect that item?” Skunk queried. “I could take it off in order to avoid being hit by him is what I’m asking.”
“Yes, that would work. Taggit’s Quirk only affects the top layer, so to speak.”
“Good to know. Now, give me the dirt! What do you have?” Skunk asked.
“You were right, the heroes who volunteered are all in the Brotherhood’s pocket. Taggit isn’t the only member of the Top 15 who is accepting kickbacks from the boys in red, but he is the only one of them to show up. Seems like the others are sitting back to see what happens, and are strong enough to ignore any demands the Brotherhood makes of them. Same can’t be said for some of the weaklings.”
At this, Pierce sighed. “A bunch of lower ranking heroes have taken bribes from the Brotherhood, and are now being extorted with this knowledge to help out. Only a handful are helping because they are actually bigots. But a couple heroes are being blackmailed with their families’ safety. They live in or near Brotherhood territory and have to help. Or else.”
“I see,” Skunk said darkly. “The heroes who are doing this to protect their families? Take ‘em off the hit list. I have no beef with someone working to protect their loved ones, even if it is in a less than pleasant way. The rest, though? Fuck ‘em.”
“Totally,” Pierce agreed. “Now what?”
“Compile all the dirt we’ve dug up on these heroes. Then give me the worst five offenders. Besides Taggit, of course. Johnny and I will take care of them personally. The rest? Have the boys deal with them,” Skunk instructed. “Just remind the boys to only target the fake heroes. No going after their families or employees. Understood?”
“Crystal, boss. Anyone who fucks that up will have it all on their head,” Pierce assured him.
“And Pierce? Don’t forget to post all those dirty secrets everywhere online. Remind the people of Stilwater that the Saints only hunt monsters and those who deserve it.”
“Absolutely.” The line then went dead as Pierce hung up, and Johnny glanced at his old friend.
“Man, it’s been a long time since we fucked shit up like this. We gonna kill them?”
“If we have no choice,” Skunk said. “I’d personally just like to send them a message.”
“Fair enough,” Johnny agreed. He then smirked when the phone dinged as Pierce texted them their hit list. “First up is some hero called Radical. He’s guarding a bus full of scum in Encanto.”
“Drive on, my friend,” Skunk said. “And tell me who this sucker is.”
“Well, he can make small shockwaves and explosives out of pure pressure. They hurt, and are pretty destructive. He’s also a local, and pretty new to the scene. Only graduated from the Stilwater U hero course last year and is working as one of Taggit's sidekicks,” Johnny relayed, reading from Pierce’s text. “Let’s see… seems he’s purely racist. No bribes as far as we can tell, and he has a noted prejudice against Heteromorphs. At least, if his arrest and citation record can be trusted. Oh, and it looks like he’s responsible for the death of an African-American Heteromorph who was ‘resisting arrest.’ He was acquitted and the whole affair swept under the rug despite overwhelming evidence showing Radical was in the wrong.”
“How come he didn’t join the Brotherhood outright, then?” Playa asked, disgust lacing his tone.
“Because his parents are rich,” Johnny replied. “Most Brotherhood mooks are poor and angry. Jessica Shawn is the odd one out, honestly. Even Donnie, for all the business he does, is only upper-middle-class wealth-wise.”
“Ah, the old ‘rich people can’t be villains’ argument,” Skunk said grimly. “I think I’m going to pound his head into the pavement until he stops being stupid and racist. And put his parents on a watchlist as well. If their kid learned all of his hate from them, well, I think they and whatever businesses they run may be in for a visit from the Saints.”
Johnny nodded in agreement, and then pointed ahead at a motorcycle that was tailing one of the prison buses from the news. “There! See that gold and burnt orange motorcycle? That’s him!”
“Sideswipe him, if you please,” Skunk requested. Johnny didn’t hesitate and proceeded to do just that, hitting the motorcycle with the side of the car and sending it and the gold and orange clad hero riding it flying.
Hero and cycle came crashing down, skidding across the pavement in a shower of sparks before coming to a halt in a dented heap on the sidewalk.
The bus kept going, but it did slow down, no doubt surprised its escort had just been sideswiped by a purple convertible.
“Argh! Who the fuck?!” Radical cried out with a snarl, staggering to his feet. Johnny came to a halt in front of him, which caused the hero to pale in horror at the sight of the two supervillains.
“Hello, Radical. I’m sure you know who we are,” Skunk said as he got out of the car and walked over to face the hero.
“Y-you bastards! You think you can get away with this?!” Radical demanded. He wore a suit of futuristic looking armor, with a helmet and visor with tinted lens. His obnoxiously bright outfit was hard to miss, and he had his hero logo stamped onto his chest as well as the back of his helmet.
Nearby, pedestrians had frozen in place, and instead of running away, they had immediately whipped out phones to record what was going on. Skunk had no doubt some were even livestreaming the confrontation.
“Get away with what?” Skunk asked curiously, tilting his head to the side while ignoring the onlookers.
“You know what! Attacking that bus! The media will crucify you for attacking innocent people!”
“Well, first off, we both know calling that short bus full of bigots ‘innocent’ is a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?” Skunk asked. “Secondly, we’re not here for them. We’re here for you.”
“W-what?” Radical uttered.
“Yeah. They might be ‘innocent’ but you sure as hell aren’t.”
“I am a hero!” Radical snarled.
“No, you’re just a Brotherhood goon in a fancy suit,” Skunk declared. “And now it’s time for you to get your comeuppance!”
The villain lunged forward and planted his fist into the hero’s face. Thanks to the use of Skunk’s custom iron knuckle-gauntlet, a tooth went flying from Radical’s mouth, and he stumbled backwards, crying out in pain as he covered his mouth with his hands to try and staunch the bleeding.
That was a mistake, as Skunk dove in with a body blow straight to Radical’s stomach, driving the air from his lungs and his breakfast from his belly. Blood-flecked vomit spattered all over the sidewalk, the supervillain having nimbly stepped aside to avoid getting any on himself.
“Bastard!” Radical howled angrily, and he punched towards Skunk. The air visibly rippled as a wave of pressure shot forward, and though it missed due to the villain dodging, it showed just how strong the hero’s Quirk was when it hit a lamppost and completely dented the metal, bending the pole sideways at a forty-five-degree angle.
“Eesh, that Quirk looks like it would hurt if it hit,” Skunk muttered. “I better end this quickly.”
He then unleashed a torrent of foul-smelling gas from his gauntlets, spraying Radical in the face with them. He screamed in agony as his nose exploded in pain. His eyes were safe thanks to his visored helmet, but they were starting to water from how pungent the aroma Skunk used on him was.
Civilians downwind of the scene recoiled as well, as well as quickly getting out of the way. While the smell was part of it, another large reason was due to Radical blindly firing off shockwaves left and right, trying to hit Skunk.
Undeterred by the wild attacks, Skunk let out a villainous laugh as he dodged, and then began to wail on Radical, punching him repeatedly with his brass knuckle-gauntlets until the ‘hero’ was unable to stand or use his Quirk anymore.
“Y-you… won’t get… away…” he slurred out, before Skunk shut him up with an uppercut that knocked several teeth out.
“Consider this karma for the murder of Milo Keyes,” Skunk said darkly. He made sure his voice was also loud enough for the people watching – and all the recording devices – to pick up on. Then, he stomped on Radical’s helmet, knocking him out, before getting back into the car. “Drive, Johnny.”
“You got it, boss,” the gunslinger said, and he stepped on it, zooming away down the street. And just in time as police sirens began to ring out behind them.
“That was fun. Who’s next?” Skunk inquired.
“Next up… a pair called Mudslinger and Nod. They’re protecting a convoy of Brotherhood goons out in the Barrio.”
“Intercept them,” Skunk requested, and Johnny spun the steering wheel, sending their car hurtling down a side street to reach them in time.
“Mudslinger is a geokinetic, and Nod makes people sleepy with his voice,” Johnny informed Playa as they drove to the next site.
“Hmm, Mudslinger sounds tricky,” Playa grunted.
“She is, but the amount she can wield at once is limited and I don’t think… yeah, it says here she can’t control concrete for some reason,” Johnny said, reading through the info packet Pierce had sent. “Crime wise, she’s taking bribes from the Brotherhood to look the other way, and she hates Heteromorphs as well, just like Radical. Not sure why. Her arrest rate is skewed heavily towards Heteromorphs, and she’s known to plant evidence, mainly drugs, to get people arrested.”
“As for Nod… he’s just guilty of taking kickbacks from the Brotherhood and stealing stuff from the evidence lockers at various police precincts. He’s number five on our hitlist however because some of the items he stole let a couple high-ranked Brotherhood villains walk free without the evidence to convict them. He doesn’t go out of his way to make life tricky for anybody intentionally at least.”
“He’ll be the least dangerous. Just don’t let him talk,” Playa said. “And I’ve got an idea for that.”
As they entered the Barrio district, there was a trio of prison transport buses up ahead that were hard to miss. Accompanying them were a pair of vehicles. One was a brown monster truck leading the convoy, while taking up the rear was a white and blue-striped sports car.
“Pop pop,” Johnny drawled as he drove towards Mudslinger, her heavy-duty truck coming towards him. He drew a handgun and emptied the clip into the wheels of her vehicle, causing it to swerve, flip, and come to a stop in the middle of the road as a crumpled heap.
The rest of the convoy immediately hit the emergency brakes and came to a screeching halt smoke and the scent of burnt rubber filling the air. Unfortunately for Nod, he wasn’t able to stop in time and rear ended the rear-most bus.
After a couple seconds Nod staggered out of his car, woozy and with a groan escaping his lips. Skunk didn’t see any blood coming from him, nor any obvious signs of injury, which was good. He didn’t want to hurt the guy too badly.
He was dressed in a blue and white striped outfit with a helmet and chest plate that reminded Skunk of a pillow. Those two items were likely the reason Nod got out of his crash so intact.
But that wasn’t going to help him now, as Johnny pulled up beside Nod, and Skunk sprayed a burst of horrifically smelling gas into the hero’s face, causing him to gasp and weep in pain. Skunk then leapt out of the convertible as soon as it came to a halt, and without hesitation, kicked Nod right in the balls, causing the hero to let out a high-pitched shriek.
When he collapsed, Skunk whipped out a roll of duct tape from his utility pouch and cover the hero’s mouth with a strip, and then also bound his hands behind his back. The hero had gone down easily, and was defeated before he had time to use his Quirk to put the villains to sleep.
‘New record!’ Skunk laughed to himself. He had barely finished tying up Nod though when a clod of dirt hit him in the shoulder, forcing him to step back with a wince.
“Hands up, villain!” Mudslinger snarled, a series of rocks and clumps of dirt hovering around her like floating bullets. Her brown and green costume looked like it had seen better days, and she had a nosebleed due to a broken nose, no doubt obtained from the car wreck just now.
“How about I don’t, and say I did?” Skunk taunted her. She growled and sent a storm of dirt flying at the supervillain, who tanked it by spinning around and letting it hit the back of his trench coat.
“Ow!” he winced, feeling hard bits of stone smack into him. It didn’t hurt much, but he’d have bruises for a while.
“Take this!” Mudslinger shouted, and she clenched her fists. All of a sudden, all of the dirt that had pattered uselessly against his back suddenly swirled to life and wrapped around his feet, knocking him off balance as the soil the heroine was commanding bound his legs together.
“Damn!” Skunk swore. Before Mudslinger could gloat about her capture, a beanbag was fired at her point-blank.
“Ah, fuck!” Mudslinger shouted as she recoiled from the beanbag round Johnny fired at her face.
‘Everyone always forgets about Johnny,’ Skunk snickered. It was an old tactic from when the two of them had worked together under Julius. Skunk would be the distraction, drawing the fire and attention, and Johnny would get the sneak attack in, because despite guns still being a thing, everyone still underestimated the Quirkless.
Johnny fired again, beaning Mudslinger in the head once more, but this time it was with a harder rubber bullet, and she went down, stunned.
“Damn, she went out like a bitch,” the Saints’ second-in-command snorted.
“I think she might have had a concussion from the wreck earlier,” Skunk mused as the dirt binding his legs crumbled away, freeing him. “Well, whatever. That’s three down. Two more – plus Taggit afterwards – left to go.”
He got up and slid back into the car, which sped off to avoid yet more police coming to investigate.
“Huh, the next two on the list are Mercurial and a heroine named Gun Cat. They’re at the docks, protecting a ‘shipment’ of Brotherhood who were released from the island penitentiary,” Johnny said, reading off the next set of targets.
“Wait, they’re letting out all the Brotherhood members, and not just the ones who got arrested on Wednesday?” Skunk demanded incredulously.
“Apparently,” Johnny said with a scowl.
“Shit. The Brotherhood’s number will be fully replenished after this!” Skunk snarled.
“We’ll just have to hit them harder with the next round of fighting,” Johnny replied grimly. “Anyways, lemme tell you about the heroes we’re up against.”
“Mercurial can turn into liquid metal at will, and it protects him from physical attacks,” Johnny said, reading Pierce’s info.
“That’s a nifty power. What’s his rank?” Skunk inquired.
“Number sixteen. He’s been trying for years to up his ranking but he’s never made it,” Johnny replied. “He’s been trying to work with the Brotherhood to up said rank. Apparently, whenever the Brotherhood pulverize another gang, Mercurial swoops in before any other heroes can get there, and arrests everyone except the Brotherhood, claiming they ‘got away’ while he was processing the other criminals. He’s also under suspicion of using his influence as a hero to make shit his family does disappear.”
“What kinda shit?” Playa asked.
“Domestic abuse, mostly. His brother is a real asshole, hits his wife and kids a lot, but nobody can do anything with Mercurial making things go away. And there’s some money laundering his uncle’s shipping business does. I think it has connections to the Brotherhood.”
“Well, he’s on my shitlist already, so I’ll be sure to break something important in his body,” Skunk vowed. “And Gun Cat?”
“Number Twenty on the Stilwater hero list. Interestingly, she’s a cat Heteromorph, but does deals with the Brotherhood in exchange for ‘special’ guns and ammo. Stuff that she’d normally have to wait weeks for to obtain legally, even as a hero.”
“How cat-like is she?” Playa wondered.
“Just ears, tail, and eyes. Rest is human-baseline.”
“Hmm, I can see how the normally Quirkist Brotherhood would work with her, in that case,” Playa mused. “And she’s never killed or outright hurt anyone?”
“Nope. In fact, all of her ‘favors’ she’s paid to the Brotherhood are under the table. She distracts other heroes from going to Brotherhood crime scenes or ‘misplaces’ certain files or pieces of evidence, but Gun Cat has never acted directly to aid the Brotherhood.”
As they pulled up to the docks, it was clear that the Brotherhood was waiting for them. In addition to the two heroes, a dozen red-clad thugs armed with shotguns and rifles were waiting, along with a Lieutenant.
Mercurial had a silver uniform that had the old alchemical symbol for mercury emblazoned on his chest. His outfit wasn’t armored and he didn’t wear a helmet, but since he was mostly immune to physical damage, it made sense.
As for Gun Cat, she wore a titillating uniform that was like a sexy army woman outfit. The camo-colored outfit showing a lot of cleavage wasn’t what was impressive, though. It was the guns she was carrying. One in each hand, plus a handgun wrapped up in her tail. And the guns in her hands weren’t little, either. Two heavily modified AR-20s were being held as if they weighed as much as twigs.
“She clearly has above human strength,” Skunk noted. They had decided to wait before driving in after spotting the Brotherhood goons, and were observing the situation from a distance.
“So, what should we do?” Johnny asked. “Go in guns blazing?”
“Yeah, but let’s set up a smokescreen first,” Skunk started to suggest, but things quickly took a turn for the weird when the heroine’s ears twitched and she turned her head towards the road, somehow hearing them before they reached the area.
Then, to Playa and Johnny’s disbelief she turned her guns onto the Brotherhood goons standing around. The lieutenant went down in a spray of blood, even as he tried to transform into some sort of elephantine creature. He managed to let out a croak of despair before succumbing. The rest of the goons weren’t so lucky and died almost instantly due to all the lead put through them.
She then blew apart Mercurial as he turned to her with an open mouth, shredding his body, reducing it into a puddle of quivering silvery goo.
“Uh, what?” Johnny uttered in disbelief. Skunk nodded dumbly in bewilderment.
“Marisa, what the fuck are you doing?!” Mercurial screamed at her as he reformed from the shower of bullets she’d unleashed onto him.
“Just doing my job and taking out the trash,” she sneered at her fellow hero. “I saw some Brotherhood goons armed to the death and I had to act as a hero should!”
“You traitorous bitch! You think Maero will forgive you for this betrayal?!” the Number Sixteen hero snarled.
“I think Maero’s time as Top Dog is drawing to a close. And don’t think I didn’t know all about you and Jessica’s ‘plan’ to murder me after my use with the gang comes to an end. Throwing my lot in with the Saints sounds a lot safer. Plus, I was only with the Brotherhood because I needed the guns.”
She then glanced back at Johnny and Skunk’s hiding place before turning back to Mercurial. “Don’t worry, though. I wasn’t aiming at you. You were just… collateral damage.”
“That’s not what happened!” he spat.
“That’s what my report will say,” she said cheekily. “You won’t be able to write one up, though, since the Saints will have put you into the hospital.”
“What?” he demanded incredulously.
“That’s our que,” Skunk muttered, and Johnny nodded.
A few seconds later, Mercurial heard the roar of a car engine, and he turned to face the source, only to be hit by a speeding purple car.
The Number Sixteen hero turned into a wobbly blob of liquid metal to absorb the force of the impact, and went flying across the docks, splashing down into the water.
“Huh, that was easy,” Skunk muttered, blinking slowly from the passenger’s seat.
“Yeah, kinda… disappointed, really,” Johnny agreed.
“Johnny Gat, right? Big fan,” Gun Cat said as she strutted over, sending the Asian-American a wink. “And Skunk, too? Wow, I feel like a special girl!”
“Thanks, doll, but I already got a girl,” Johnny said, waving her flirtation off.
“Shame,” she shrugged.
“Hello Gun Cat. So, you’re deciding to ditch the Brotherhood?” Skunk asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Yup. Never wanted to work with those bastards anyways, but I needed their connections. Say what you want, but they know a lot of top-quality gun runners.”
“Did you really need stuff like that? Couldn’t you have just… used normal weapons? Or one that were easier to acquire?” Skunk asked.
“Hmm? No way! I don’t do non-lethal!” Gun Cat laughed.
“You don’t?” Skunk asked in surprise.
“Yeah. Too much effort. I could shot somebody in a place that won’t kill ‘em, but why waste a bullet?”
“How the hell are you a hero?” Johnny couldn’t help but ask.
“Because sometimes there are monsters that need a bullet between the eyes,” Gun Cat said with a laugh. However, her eyes were cold. Skunk nodded in approval.
“I do the same thing, and I get labeled a vigilante at best,” Johnny grumbled. “But a cute girl does and everyone goes, ‘nah, it’s fine!’ Ugh! Damn double standards!”
“Hey… shouldn’t Mercurial have come up by now?” Skunk asked, glancing over at the water’s edge.
Johnny and Gun Cat looked over as well, blinking as they realized he was right.
“Err, when Mercurial turns into liquid metal form, what happens if he gets hit with water?”
“Uh, I think it takes a while longer for him to regenerate,” Gun Cat said, rubbing the back of her head.
“So, wait, would he diffuse into the harbor’s water?” Johnny asked. “Would he even be able to pull himself back together afterwards?”
“Did we… did we kill somebody?” Skunk wondered. He was no stranger to death, or being the one dealing it, but this was the first time it would have been an accident.
“I think we did,” Gun Cat said with a frown. The trio stared at the water for a few moments, and were shaken out of it only when a loud seagull squawked above them.
“We should go,” Johnny suggested.
“Good idea,” Skunk hummed. “Hey, Gun Cat? We cool?”
“Yeah, we cool,” she assured the leader of the Saints. “Especially after what you did for Jemma at Tee’N’Ay a couple weeks ago.”
Skunk frowned behind his mask. ‘She knows about what I did to take the strip club over. Does she have contacts among the strippers?’
Something to check on for later. But for now, it was time to ditch the area before the boats with the recently freed Brotherhood members reached the docks. Not that he was worried about them. Not with Gun Cat sticking around ‘to clean up whatever trash the tides brings in.’
“So, there’s only one hero left,” Johnny said as they drove towards the courthouse where Taggit was still hanging around.
“Yup. You wanna deal with him yourself?” Skunk guessed.
“Oh, yeah. I got something with his name on it,” his lieutenant smirked.
The duo drove up to the impressive building of justice, where Taggit was flexing and showing off for his fans and a few news crews who were still covering the earlier mass release of prisoners.
“Hey, Taggit!” Johnny shouted as he pulled up the car.
“Huh?” Taggit muttered. When he spotted who’d called out to him, his expression twisted into one of anger. “YOU! JOHNNY GAT, I’M GONNA-!”
He didn’t get a chance to say anything else, as Johnny quickly whipped out a purple and gold-plated handgun and fired twice, shooting out the hero’s kneecaps. Johnny Fuck-Mothering Gat didn’t even bother to get out or even stop the car to deal with the hero. The absolute disrespect!
The Number Four hero screamed in shock and agony as he collapsed to the ground as blood spurted from his ruined legs.
“Okay, I’m done, you all have a nice day!” Johnny said as he drove off, waving at the cameras and civilians who were gawking at the scene in disbelief.
“That was quick,” Skunk said.
“Yeah, I decided he wasn’t worth it. Not enough for a genuine Johnny-style beat-down. Maybe later.”
Skunk nodded in understanding. They’d done what they’d set out to do, and a message had been sent to Stilwater.
The Saints hunted monsters. Criminals beware, not even hiding behind the facade of a hero would save you anymore!
