She didn't recognize me!
April couldn't believe it. Peyton had met April Newton less than a week ago, had sat at her desk and spoke directly to her, and yet when she looked at April now, she only saw only the costume and the superpowers. For a moment, April allowed herself to consider the possibility that this double-life thing might actually work. After all, who expected to find Mickey Holtz's assistant flying around and blowing up drones? Even April could hardly believe it, and she was living it. Of course, if she intended to keep living it, she would need to put her game face on. That was just one of many drones; her work was only beginning.
Swooping into action, April first intercepted a pair of drones which were busy shooting up the side of a city bus. With her fist extended in front of her as she flew, she charged up and punched straight through the first drone; bits of metal sprayed against her face and body, harmlessly deflected by the radiation shield she was generating. The second drone wheeled around on her, and April darted to the side to avoid a burst of gunfire. "My turn," she muttered under her breath before releasing a burst of her own. The green energy ripped through the drone like a piƱata, which exploded with a satisfying flash. Some heads popped up through the windows of the bus, and April gave what she hoped looked like a confident wave.
"I knew I recognized these things!" Jefferson's voice chirped through the earpiece April was wearing. As she listened in, she took off in the direction of a drone which was peppering an apartment building with small missiles. "Surprise, surprise: it's Zenith tech. They're part of a project called 'Sentinel,'" Jeff continued. The drone fired a missile at the approaching hero; she spun out of the way easily. "They were originally designed for law enforcement -- non-weaponized, strictly surveillance -- but the project was shelved due to public backlash over the 'Big Brother' of it all." The next missile sailed dangerously close to April. She fired back at the drone but scored over a glancing blow. "Eventually, someone had the bright idea to repurpose the tech for military application."
April shot a concentrated beam of energy at the drone. It sliced through the offending device like a hot knife through butter, exposing interiors which glowed orange from the heat. The bisected pieces fell to either side of April's head as she soared upwards through the spot the drone once occupied. "So, do you definitely believe my sabotage theory now?" she challenged Jefferson.
"I'd be a fool not to," he admitted over the line. "Someone's definitely controlling these things remotely. I'm on my way to Zenith now to see if I can backtrace the signal from there. If I get a location, you'll be the first to know. In the meantime--"
April charged up her fists. "Go smash some drones," she finished for him, "Got it." She zoomed down to street level, carving a path through a line of drones which had pinned down some unfortunate CCPD officers. From behind the husk of their destroyed squad car, the cops gave an appreciative -- if perplexed -- look. One of them suddenly shouted something a moment too late; a force slammed into April's back, and she went spiraling to the earth. April felt like she got run over by the Mag-Rail again. When she finally came to a stop, she was covered in shards of glass. She turned in time to see a drone bearing down through the shattered storefront window through which she had fallen.
With a burst of speed, April vacated the spot where she had landed, mere moments before a hailfire of bullets reduced the floor to a pock-marked crater. Raising a hand to blow the offending drone of the sky, April was blindsided by another explosion. A second drone had flanked her position and was preparing again to fire. April hunkered down and shielded herself, the sheath of radiation just barely holding up against the fire of the drone's minigun. One of the bullets leaked through the shield, catching April in the shoulder. She yelped and let off a flash of green light, which stunned both drones.
Taking flight once more, April circled back outside to find a firing line waiting for her. Evidently, whoever was controlling these drones did not take kindly to April's handling of them. As the drones closed in a semicircle around her, she sneered. "Alright, you wanna fight dirty?" she challenged them aloud. "Good, so do I!" Summoning as much energy as she could, she balled her fists and felt her entire body tense. Then, in a sudden release, a wave of destructive radiation erupted in a sphere all around her, blowing the drones away like so much debris. She floated there another moment after, green light pulsing until it gradually faded.
The victory was short-lived. Reinforcements swiftly arrived in the form of more drones. As they shot up at April, she twisted and rolled away from their lines of fire. The drones gave chase, their bullets nipping at the edge of April's cape. She looked back over her shoulder and fired off a series of blasts, only a few of which made any kind of solid connection. Meanwhile, a bullet whizzed frighteningly close to her face, and she jerked away out of instinct.
"April," Jeff chimed in.
"Please tell me you've got that location," April replied, stopping to turn back and square up a shot on one of the drones. As it exploded, its constituent parts showered down on nearby drones, damaging some while knocking others off-course. Still, the mob closed the gap on her. With a huff, April turned skyward with as much speed as she could muster.
Jefferson sighed. "Not yet, no. I'm close, though," he admitted. "But right now, you need to get to City Hall. Every drone which isn't busy chasing you has been redirected that way. Apparently, they've found someone they want dead even more than you..."
-----
Isaac Vance was no stranger to trouble.
Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he had never qualified as "well-behaved." His father, who did not lack for love of his only child, was all too often too busy running a company to discipline his son; and all too willing to let bad behavior slide on the few occasions when he did take an interest in raising Isaac. Even sending Isaac off to the best preparatory schools money could buy did little to curtail his rebellious streak.
It should have come as no surprise, then, that the mischief-maker grew up to become a wanton thrill-seeker as he grew older. Isaac's misadventures with alcohol, drugs, and women heaped mountains of bad publicity on the Vance family name, and he had been involved in more than one physical altercation with the paparazzi who followed in his wake, eager to report on the next great disaster. Only his father's power and influence had kept Isaac from suffering the full consequences of his actions.
Yet, in spite of all that, Isaac had never faced trouble quite like this.
Huddled behind the Mayor's desk, Isaac tried to focus on the laptop he was cradling, rather than the constant barrage of gunfire and shattering glass going on just outside. A spray of bullets punched holes through the hastily closed shutters, peppering the wall opposite Isaac with points of light. Isaac looked up briefly from what he was doing, then turned his eyes back down to the screen in his lap. "Mr. Mayor, you should've told me that your Li-Fi connection was so bad in your office," he offered, watching the browser shudder under the weight of his commands. "I would've gladly had a technician look at it for you."
Mayor Donald Gallagher, for his part, did not share Vance's apparently relaxed state. Pressed to the floor behind his large, green sofa, the older gentleman's face was red and sweaty. Each time there was a new noise from just beyond the windows, he flinched and closed his eyes, anticipating the end which never quite came. He had called Vance down to have a chat about the recent Zenith-related disasters in Century City when the world, it seemed, had gone completely mad. The drones had swarmed City Hall so quickly that there hadn't been time to evacuate, so the two men had holed up in Gallagher's office.
If Isaac noticed the Mayor's terror, he paid it no mind. The truth was that Isaac was scared, too, but fear wouldn't serve their purposes. Instead, Isaac did what he had been doing since his father passed: he threw himself into his work. Isaac wasn't a seasoned programmer or anything, but he possessed more intellect than his checkered past let on, and he had absorbed plenty through sheer osmosis throughout the years. Making use of his administrative privileges, he tried to access the network controlling the drones. His drones, he thought grimly. It was clear now that Isaac was being targeted specifically, and he wondered darkly about the implications therein.
Unfortunately, whoever was behind this plot had anticipated and prepared for possible interference. Despite the fact that Isaac's account should have had ultimate authority, he was still finding himself locked out of his own system. Of course, it didn't help that the poor connection in this office was resulting in high packet loss, putting Isaac at a severe handicap. "Dammit!" he blustered, tension finally boiling over. Slamming the laptop shut, he leaned his head back until he felt the desk's hard surface. "I need to get back to Zenith," he announced suddenly.
Mayor Gallagher looked at Vance as if he had said he needed to get to the moon. "You can't seriously be considering going out there!"
Before Isaac could reply, a missile impacted against the side of City Hall, raining bits of plaster on them both and dislodging a portrait from the wall behind the cowering Mayor. "Well, I certainly don't intend on dying in here," Isaac reasoned, tucking his laptop under his arm. He craned his neck and peered over the top of the desk. "At the rate they're going, I'd say you've got... two minutes before they breach that wall and come to kill you?" He looked back at the Mayor. "Best of luck to you, then."
Not surprisingly, Mayor Gallagher yielded to good sense and followed Vance as he crouch-ran out of the office and into the hall. The lights inside City Hall flickered as it tried to withstand the drones' constant barrage. Past each door down the hallway, Isaac could hear stifled shrieks with every new shockwave. He knew that the only way to protect these people would be to get back to Zenith, access the mainframe, and purge the cyberterrorist's account. With a renewed sense of purpose, he dashed towards the exit, hoping he could find an opening to slip out unseen.
No sooner had they reached the rotunda at City Hall's heart than Isaac was stopped dead in his tracks. The drones had just managed to break through the windows above the balcony, and they were buzzing around the circular room in search of targets -- targets which he and the Mayor had just unwittingly provided. As soon as they were spotted, the drones wasted no time assuming attack positions. Isaac lifted his arms in surrender futilely, knowing full well that this maniac had no intention of taking them alive.
Just then, something bright and green shone through the shattered windows. Isaac shielded his eyes, then watched as a figure flew -- yes, flew -- into the rotunda and began blasting at the drones. They turned their full attention and armaments against the newcomer, but she was too quick for them. Not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, Isaac ducked behind a pillar, pulling Mayor Gallagher by the elbow to get him to do the same. Still, Isaac couldn't stop himself from watching their hero tear through the drones like she was swatting flies.
When the blasting was done, and the hero alone remained, Isaac finally stepped out from his hiding spot and greeted her readily. "Well, well," he began, "I wasn't ready for two surprises today." Now getting his first good look at the girl, he took note of her colorful though peculiar outfit.
"Yeah, well, that's why they're called surprises," the hero answered somewhat unkindly. Whoever she was, it was clear that she held no great love for the Zenith Dynamics CEO.
She'll have to get in line, Isaac mused. "Am I correct in assuming that you're also the girl who saved my train the other night?" Though she didn't answer, her expression told him everything he needed to know. "So then, that's two debts I now owe you."
Isaac sweared that he saw the girl sneer. "Trust me," she said coldly, "I didn't do it for you."
Such contempt was, unfortunately, not unfamiliar to him. He resolved not to take it personally, nevertheless. "That may be, but you have my thanks all the same," he replied. "If there's ever anything I can do for you..."
"Yeah," she said, meeting his gaze at last, "you can keep a closer eye on your company." And without a moment for a retort, she took off, doubtlessly to go save the next person in need.