Captain Hudson rushed into the communications room. “PARTRIDGE! Get me Jones. NOW!”
Lieutenant Partridge made the call to the man waiting in the dark water at the bow anchor chain.
“’Pear Tree’ to ‘Trident 1’, over.”
“’Trident 1’” Jones voice came through the ether in a crisp whisper.
Hudson snatched the mike from his communications officer. “JONES! Ignore the special orders repeat IGNORE SPECIAL ORDERS!”
“Er…’Trident 1’ to ‘Pear Tree’…state rescind code, over.”
“Jones ! Screw the rescind code! Ignore special order! This is Hudson, IGNORE SPECIAL ORDER!”
Partridge grabbed the mike head, covering it with his hand as he flipped the cut off switch. “SIR ! You are using names on an unsecure channel! You’re breaching protocol! We don’t know who is listening! Sir, Jones is ‘Trident 1’- “
“SCREW that!” Captain Hudson cut him short, before he took a deep breath and calmed himself as he saw Partridge actually put a hand on his holster. He looked unsettled- he had never seen his Captain so irrational. “I’m sorry, Partridge. I’m sorry , you’re right. Gimme.” Hudson said.
Hudson took the mike back off his wary Lieutenant “Trident 1…I don’t have the rescind code…but I am ordering you to ignore the special orders…over.”
“’Pear Tree’….no-can-do sir. I need the rescind code…” Jones sounded bewildered. “We should go quiet, sir. ‘Trident 1’ awaiting go, out.”
“You see, Captain? That young man will go far. We are committed to this course of action. It may not play out as you fear it will. It could all go smoothly. Let’s just hope for the best, eh?” Wilson said smugly.
“Sir?” Partridge said thoroughly confused.
Hudson sighed, biting his lip, more annoyed at his own lack of professionalism than anything else.
“You disgust me” he said to Wilson, before turning back to Partridge. “Sorry John…there’s…other stuff goin’ down…” he sighed wearily.
“Partridge?” Wilson addressed the young officer from Detroit.
“Lieutenant Partridge, sir.” He corrected the strange civilian that had angered his Captain so much.
“Yes…well, whatever… I want a dedicated channel to ‘Trident 1’, Lieutenant Jones…” Wilson gestured at the six small monitors set up to view the scene from the SEAL teams’ head cameras, showing murky green shapes from their night vision goggles as a picture-in-picture, each screen split into 8, “Oh, and make sure one of them permanently shows Jones’ camera, will you? I want to see what he sees.”
“Sir?” Partridge addressed Hudson.
“Do it.” Hudson barked. He stared bitterly at Wilson, who smiled back, a false, sterile smile.
Tom Lewis came in. “Mayor’s airborne.”
Wilson addressed the Navy Captain “I knew you’d see things my way in the end. This is just the way it has to go down. Maybe she is already dead, or maybe the darts won’t kill her. We will just have to see how it goes. Now, shall we watch the show?” Wilson said. This time he really did seem happy, as he smiled the smile of a snake. “Partridge, get me some coffee.”
“It’s Lieutenant Partridge , sir. And I ain’t no waiter. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I have an op to run. ‘Short Stop’ this is ‘Pear Tree’, what’s your sitch, over?”
Jarvis dropped the last shard into the tin can with a rattling tinkle and then straightened up stiffly. Kara looked at him weakly as he addressed her, with genuine gratitude.
“That’s about all I can get out…87 by my counts, but…I don’t think I’ve got them all, Miss…” He looked at her worriedly.
She knew that he hadn’t. She could feel the burning pain from one buried deep in her left shoulder. She had felt it break inside her as he had pulled out only half of it. It wasn’t very large but she was in no doubt it would impede her movement in that arm and ultimately, if left unremoved, it would kill her. She would have to get it out herself but that would have to wait for another day. There was also a very small fragment in her right palm, an even smaller one at her ribs and the barest speck in a wound at her neck. The thigh wound seemed to burn intermittently. At least one sliver left in there, then. She felt nauseous and was certain that her speed as well as her strength would be adversely affected, but it couldn’t be helped. He had done his best and she was lucky to be alive. She smiled up at him, gratefully.
“Thank you.” She said weakly, causing him to beam back at her with his crooked smile. When he wasn’t smiling his face looked almost normal, but the lack of muscular response when he did smile gave him an undeserved cruel appearance. But then again he was a murderer, so maybe not undeserved after all. She decided to ask him directly. She felt it was important to know just how far she could trust him.
“You don’t seem like a machete-wielding maniac…” she said, watching as his face suddenly hardened for a moment, before he dropped his gaze. When he raised his head his eyes were glazed and tearful.
“Everyone forgets it was their machete…” he forced a smile, then swallowed hard as he bit his bottom lip. He looked at her and she stared back coolly, waiting for him to go on. Finally he did, with a heavy sigh. “They just came at me, in the alley, but the big one with the blade was drunk , just swinging it wildly…I grabbed his arm and turned him, and he just gutted the guy on his left himself. I wrestled the blade off him and then when they came at me again I just kept swinging it…again and again…just…couldn’t stop…People who ain’t ever had to fight for their lives, will never understand what it’s like…I just kept swinging…just wanted to make sure they weren’t gonna get up again. If that meant ever, well so what? You look at it in the cold light of day and yes I …hit them 10-12 times apiece or more…Papers said I hacked them to bits…but it wasn’t like that…it lasted seconds…I just kept swinging…I just wanted to go home, see my little girl…and all I could think of as I swung, was that if I lost this fight, then I’d never get to see her again…” he hung his head slightly and pinched his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Irony is, I never saw her again anyway. After the media branded me a maniac I went on the run…no way the cops would understand, me and those guys had history…I’d be looking at 20 years at least…so…” He shrugged hopelessly. “My wife left me…don’t blame her…ain’t seen her or my daughter since. Be your age now I guess…little Emily…not so little now I guess…that’s why I wanted the pardon so bad…just wanted to get home…see if I could find her, explain things. I tried to call my wife a few times in the beginning, but she wouldn’t talk and then changed the number in the end. Wrote letters, but…Then things just went to shit…I pulled a few store robberies, trying to get some cash…I’m not proud of how I ended up. I just want to go home is all. I didn’t know this…” he gestured and looked around at the ship “was all to kill you...I would’ve warned you if I’d known…but she said it was a government job, that you’d gone nuts…I was stupid to just believe her…but I wanted the pardon so bad…it seemed like a dream ticket…and if they were gonna catch you stop you hurting yourself and others, well where was the harm? I…I ain’t that bright I guess, Miss. I just wanted to go home.”
She could tell he was being honest and she felt both relief for herself and pity for him.
He pulled himself together, picking up the can and sensitively holding it as far away as possible from her. “What should I do with this, Miss? I guess you probably need to dispose of this stuff properly, make sure it gets destroyed somehow. This boat’s full of it. I threw the little piece she gave me overboard, but I guess you may want to get rid of it forever. Should I dump this over the side or put it out of the way, Miss? I can help you gather up it and the other bits after, if you like, as I know you can’t go near them. Most of it is in those lead rooms, but she has got this glove-thing that she made somewhere.”
Kara frowned “You’re right, I need to get rid of it properly. For now, can you put it in a container of some kind, preferably in another room. ’Glove thing’?” she asked quizzically.
“One sec, Miss, I’ll put this in the metal maintenance locker next door. Rest of the room is empty, it’s just a little storage cupboard, so you don’t need to go in there.” He disappeared for a few moments before returning. She immediately felt better as soon as he walked out of the door.
“There. I’ll gather up the rest of the stuff from the rooms up above, store it all in there. I can get some of the lead sheeting, wrap it around it, as I guess that shields you from it, Miss?”
Supergirl nodded “The bombs on the doors of the lead rooms have steel containers packed with little slivers of it, can you get those too? I have made the bombs safe so there’s nothing to worry about. The glove you mentioned…?”
He nodded before he went on, ”Yes, Miss, she made a sort of… gauntlet thing…she pulverised one of them green stones to dust and then she’s coated the glove in that poison powder, but I ain’t seen it for a few days; she came up with the idea for them bullets then, sort of lost interest, but it’s around somewhere. She said the bullets would just drug you. When I saw you collapsing in that room , I thought it was just gonna knock you out or something. At first anyway…then I… I- I don’t know what I thought really…just didn’t fancy going against Wheeler, I guess, at that instant. He’s ex-navy, trained in hand to hand and all that. Think the doc does karate or jujitsu or some shit as well. I –I’m sorry, I should have tried to help you…I was just afraid. I’m sorry I let them hurt you, Miss.” He was looking at his shoes, obviously ashamed.
‘Great’, she thought, ’a gauntlet of Kryptonite. This day just gets better and better. Maybe I should’ve just stayed at home and done the laundry’. To give the doctor credit, she was nothing if not prepared. She was feeling immeasurably better after he had removed the shards from her body and then their container from the room. But she was still weak and the splinters still embedded in her were causing her some discomfort. She looked at him and didn’t need her vision to see that he was devastated by his role in her capture. She needed Jarvis’ help still, and he had saved her life. She tried to reassure him.
“It’s ok, I understand. Everyone gets afraid sometimes, and it’s not easy to overcome. But you did it, in the end, you saved my life. Don’t feel bad about the past. You made the right choice and I’m ok because of you. If you can gather the Kryptonite together, that’d be great. I can sheath the locker by melting the lead to seal it together, make a kinda lead box. If you just gather what you can and get the lead into position. I just need to rest a little, get my strength back.” She looked up at the ceiling of the little cabin with a long sigh and closed her eyes, just for an instant. The ache in her shoulder throbbed with an intermittent intensity that secretly worried her. But she had little choice – she would have to ignore it for now and try and find the bomb, the remote trigger if there was one, and the doctor. And that damned belt. Her palm stung with the splinter in it and it hurt when she clenched her fist. She swallowed hard, suppressing the pain. Her other injuries, where there were still fragments, were mere irritations but her whole body was sore after her ordeal.
When she opened her eyes again a moment later she saw a strange woman’s face swim into view. As she focussed she realised it was a mermaid tattooed on Jarvis’ forearm, with everything on show. He was leaning over her, sensitively trying to ease her top back up as gently as possible while ensuring the towel covering her chest didn’t slip down. She blinked back to wakefulness and realised she had actually fallen into an exhausted sleep. She could hear the ‘whup-whup’ sound of a helicopter’s rotors receding into the distance, then hovering, somewhere outside the ship.
“Wha-? Oh, no!” she said groggily shaking herself awake. ”How long was I out?” she asked urgently.
“Only ten minutes. You said you needed to rest for a little while, so I didn’t wake you. I tried to shake you a bit but you didn’t budge. I’ve gathered all that rock stuff I could find in the locker, bent the lead as much as I could around it, like you said. Coupla welds and it’ll be all sealed. There was this box too, but I don’t know what’s in it” Jarvis held out the spring loaded belt box that she had sealed earlier. “Didn’t know if that was something you needed?”
As she stared at it, she had an idea. Ensuring the lid was firmly down she ran her eyes around the seal, melting it, allowing the box to be opened once more. “Take this, and empty the shards inside that can next door. But be careful - the lid lifts vertically but its spring loaded so you’ll feel some pressure as you lift it. I need the box back, so make sure you have emptied ALL of the shards. Leave it on the bed.” She thought for a moment, then recalled something and looked up at him ”When I was injured…before, when I was out of it…Did you stick a pin in my nose?”
“Oh shit! I didn’t mean to, Miss! Well, no I mean, I did mean too, it wasn’t an accident but I mean I wasn’t torturing you or anything! It was a needle, I was trying to see if you were still …alive. I’m so sorry” said hurriedly.
“It’s ok.” She smiled. “I need that needle though, I need to put a stitch in the waist of your pants, stop ‘em falling down again” she nodded to where he had one hand holding up his jeans. “My costume could do with a few repairs too” she glanced down at where the shards had ripped and shredded her leotard top.
“But I could just…” he looked towards the bed.
“I’m afraid I need it.” She said in answer.
He looked down “Oh, right. I lost a bit of weight” he explained awkwardly, slightly bewildered. ”I’ll find the needle and some thread and empty this lead box thing.”
“The code is 211212” she said “Just punch it in. But watch out for that spring!”
He nodded “Miss? When you were asleep just now…I know what you thought I was gonna do last time…I didn’t touch you or anything. Just wanted you to know.”
She knew he was telling the truth. She pulled up her top with a wriggle of her shoulders that hurt much more than she thought it would. She sat up slowly wincing, pulling the towel off her upper body, then swung her legs elegantly down from the bed and stood up stiffly, rolling and rubbing her neck. He looked slightly worried and backed away from her, afraid that she might be angry with him somehow. She thought a moment as she took the needle and thread from him, then stopped. “Did you feel my ass when you carried me down the stairs?” she asked with a mischievous frown of mock severity, as without looking she threaded the needle in a microsecond and with her hand a blur quickly stitched the holes at her chest, her ribs and her shoulder. It hurt her hand just gripping the needle. Not a good sign. All the while she stared at him with feigned ferocity.
“What?! Feel your ass? God no! I mean I had my hand …er...on…it, kinda…but I sorta had to, so I didn’t drop you…I – there was no, er…I mean I didn’t..er…I didn’t enjoy touching it…” he stumbled over his words, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
She slowly turned her head to look down over her right shoulder at her behind, sweeping her cape out of the way to see it and rotating her hips so that he had a good view of the curve of her butt beneath her short skirt. Without moving her head she raised her eyes to stare at him, sternly. “What’s wrong with my ass?” she said with raised eyebrows, sounding almost hurt.
“Oh god, nothing, its great! I mean it… er, I just wouldn’t ever, you know I didn’t …er…when I was carrying you I wasn’t trying to cop a feel… I would never want to …I mean I wanted to, as any guy would want to, but I didn’t want to then, I mean like, any man would be crazy not to want to …er… but- not in those circumstances…I mean I got 25 years on you, so …er…I didn’t think of it that way…I’m sure it’s lovely, not that I …er …I’m positive it is in fact…but …er ..I…er…it is a very nice one Miss, but I…Oh god!”
She decided to stop teasing him ”I know, its ok” she said softly. She smiled as she could see he was again telling the truth. “I’m a heroine, not a nun. I know the difference. I’m just foolin’ with ya.“ she smiled that wonderful smile at him again. “But I got a city to save, now I’m back in the game, thanks to you. What was that chopper, do you know?”
“Er, I think they dropped something off from the shore. She had asked them for the Mayor and twenty million dollars for your return, Miss, it might be that. Think she planned to take them to the bridge.“ Jarvis said.
“Damn it! Do you know where the bomb is, have you seen it on board? Or the belt that was in that box?” she asked urgently.
“Er, what bomb, Miss?” Jarvis asked.
“She has a chemical or radioactive weapon of some kind, we don’t know how big, my guess is it would be about the size of a fish tank,” she gestured with her hands. “I guess …yay big., maybe in an oil drum or something?”
Jarvis shook his head. “No, seen nothing like that. The belt was in the control room upstairs but it ain’t there anymore, I went through there gathering up the rocks. She must have it with her. Weird- looking metallic thing, with an enlarged square buckle, quite thick. If it’s any help, she said something a bit odd earlier, said she needed to ‘wait a few hours maybe less, she’d have to check on deck’. Something like that, she said.”
“Could the bomb be on deck somewhere?” she asked doubtfully.
“Don’t think so, Miss, would’ve seen it.” Jarvis said. She knew he was right. She would’ve seen it too.
“What could she be checking on deck, then?” Supergirl said to herself deep in thought.
“Only one thing anyone checks on deck for, Miss, when you are at sea – the weather. The sea, storms, the wind.”
“YOU’RE RIGHT!” Supergirl cried excitedly, “She was checking the wind conditions – she needs it to be blowing shoreward to carry the contaminants to the city! That’s why she was waiting – she needed nightfall! Cities radiate heat at night – it’s called the urban heat island effect- all the man- made surfaces absorb heat during the day and then radiate it at night – concrete, car hoods, asphalt, - everything. It can mean the temperature is 2 or 3 degrees warmer than the surrounding countryside or in this case the ocean. The hot air rises, the cooler air is drawn in from the surrounding area – you get localised wind currents in this case blowing in from offshore! The later the better as the wind gets stronger as the night draws on for a spell, then slackens off after midnight. They are not very strong but for her purposes it’s the direction that’s important!” She recalled the pleasant sensation, as she had been searching for the ship, of the cool sea breeze caressing her bare thighs as she had hovered over the harbour. The wind was light but would still be deadly.
“So the bomb is on deck?” said Jarvis.
“NO! She said something when she thought she had me – ‘Its right where everyone can and can’t see it!’ She meant the light! It’s intermittent as it rotates! First you can see it, then you can’t! But only if you are looking at it can you see it and then the light is too bright, it blinds you temporarily so naturally you look away. I myself squinted away from the glare as I flew in here! The bomb is in the light tower! Is it just you and Wheeler with the Doctor on board?” she asked, to which he nodded.
“Do...do you need me to go and do anything ? I won’t let you down again.” he looked frightened, but determined.
She shook her head “I know you wouldn’t. Does she have any more of those special bullets that she used on me?”
Now he shook his head “No I don’t think so. She seemed to think the one magazine would be enough.”
“And it would have been, if it wasn’t for you.” She smiled her gratitude at him. He blushed. He seemed to do that a lot. He reminded her of ‘Bashful’ from ‘Snow White’. But with tattoos.
“What’s your name?” she asked, as she moved over to the doorway.
“Jarvis, Miss” he said simply.
“ ’Jarvis, Miss’ What are you, my butler?” she teased him again with a bad impersonation of his voice “I mean your NAME, your first name” she smiled her dazzling smile at him.
“Oh.Er..Robert, Miss. Bob.” He smiled, looking embarrassed again as he shuffled his feet. “I used to be 'BJ' when I was younger, like that TV show, ‘ BJ and the Bear ’, but BJ came to mean, well you know, …something else, Miss.” his cheeks flushed with embarrassment again. “Don’t think he got his nickname on the show from giving the monkey one, anyways” he said with a slight grin. “Bit before your time, I expect.”
She smiled. She had seen the re-runs. She was tempted to fool around with him some more, and pretend she didn’t know what he meant by ‘BJ’, but the time for fun and games was over.
“Well, thank you, Robert. You don’t need to call me ‘Miss’ all the time” She gave him a friendly peck on the cheek. “Thank you for saving me. Feels kinda weird saying that…And thank you for your offer of help, but you’ve done more than enough already. Best thing you can do for me now is to keep an eye on that locker next door. I’ll seal it up and then dispose of it later. Just stay down here out of the way where I know you’re safe.” She headed through the doorway then stopped.
“Oops! Nearly forgot!” she sped into the room and knelt before him, her head at his groin, her hand at the waist of his jeans.
For one brief, glorious moment, he thought all his Christmases had come at once, that finally he would have a happy memory of his childhood nickname. But in a dazzling blur of speed she had drawn the waist of his jeans together, grabbed the needle and rigorously stitched up the slack. She looked up as she bit through the excess thread as he looked down at her, bitterly disappointed.
“What?” she said innocently, her clear blue eyes staring up at him. He knew he was lost at that moment, forever. He would do anything for those beautiful blue sapphires shining in her eyes. He would carry that image and that brief forlorn hope he had held but for only an instant, and the wonderous feeling it gave him, to his grave.
“Er…nothing” he smiled back with that crooked grin. ’Oh, well’ he thought ‘Maybe in another lifetime’.
She held his left arm by the wrist and turned it to read the tattoo on his forearm. A yellow square, above a yellow cross on a red square, over a tapered flesh coloured square with a red dot on the left of centre. She recognized the three nautical signal flags and their meaning. She looked up at him “QR1’? ’Request Permission to lay alongside?’” she said with a raised eyebrow of mock disdain.
“I-er, I was young…seemed like a good icebreaker at the time…” he said awkwardly. She ‘tutted’ her disapproval, but secretly she did find it amusing and couldn’t resist a quick smile with her head bowed so he couldn’t see it, as she decided to have some fun at his expense.
“Let me guess…you got another one on your inner thigh that says ‘I need a tug’?” she asked with a straight face and was delighted when he blushed furiously. She didn’t tell him she had seen it earlier with her X-ray vision when she had checked him out for weapons with a quick scan. She let him off the hook by carrying on with her instructions.
“After you’ve emptied those shards leave that box on the bed, then stay next door, I’ll come back for you, ok? ” She stood up and his dream died. ”I need to borrow that-“ she gestured at the item on the bed “-hence the stitches. Not my best work, but I’m a lousy homemaker!” she smiled.
“Ok” he sighed heavily. “I’ll go empty the shards into the locker.”
“Stay in there, - ‘I’ll be back’” she said in a very poor Arnie impersonation that made them both smile. She laughed. It felt good to share a joke with somebody after the last few hours.
“More of a Clint man, myself” he smiled crookedly at her. “Will you be ok? I know you’re super human, but you’ve been hurt…I can help maybe… defusing the bomb… rescuing the Mayor… Not that I know about bombs or anything…”he said awkwardly.
“Hmmnnn.” She folded her arms across her lovely chest, then rubbed her index finger across her pale red lips as she stood in the doorway, dipped her head slightly in thought, and then turned to face him. “Defusing the bomb, saving the city, rescuing the Mayor, bringing in the bad guys…This sounds like a job for Supergirl!!!” she smiled and disappeared through the doorway in a blue and red blur.
“Be careful, Miss!” he shouted after her, needlessly. “Gotta call her ‘Miss’, it’s how I was brought up…” he mumbled quietly to himself. Then he remembered the kiss on his cheek and smiled. There was also that wonderful laugh of hers, like the music of angels. He also remembered her spectacular smile back at him. At HIM. Suddenly, he felt like a King.
Her face reappeared at the doorway suddenly, making him start slightly. She had one finger raised as she squinted and pulled a face in apology “Oh, I know that was a cliché, but I couldn’t resist! Always wanted to say that! The ‘papers have me saying it all the time, but I never have until now. I had to say it in context, or else it wouldn't count!“ she smiled delightfully, winked at him playfully and disappeared with the briefest of waves.
He smiled too. Now, he felt like a god. He would fight armies for her. Or ‘Arnies’ come to that. He smiled. No way was he better than Clint. ”Good luck, Miss” he said quietly to her, his crooked grin stretching from ear to ear, but she had already gone.
A deck above, she heard his whisper and smiled. For a triple killer he was a nice guy. She stopped, wincing and panting heavily as the pain flared up in her shoulder and especially in her thigh. She sagged against the wall slightly. This was no good. She had dallied with Jarvis deliberately, to give herself time to recover, to get herself together. The zipping off at speed and then coming back again to his cabin wasn’t just fooling around, it was to see how debilitated she really was, to test herself, to see what her new limits were without exposing herself to direct danger. She had thought she wasn’t too bad, but the sudden stabs of pain now in her leg and shoulder said otherwise, as they left her feeling weak and exhausted, as well as nauseous. When the mass of shards had been in her, she had been largely unmoving. They had been painful and deadly but the pain had been more easy to handle to ready herself for, a constant burning or a dull ache rather than the sudden sharp pang she was getting now, intermittent stabbing that left her weakened for a second or two at a time until she recovered, only for it to come again in a few moments. And of course she had collapsed and passed out so she was oblivious to it for most of her experience. She realised the reason it hurt so much now with just a handful of pieces in her, was that it was a cumulative effect. This, on top of the bullets, on top of the previous exposure to the mineral in the rooms, was worse than if she just had a few splinters buried in her. She realised she needed to recharge before she confronted the Doctor. If there was more Kryptonite around the bomb in the light she could be finished. She couldn’t help the Mayor in this state either. Limping slightly and clutching her left shoulder with her right hand, she stepped onto the deck with care, looking left and right, the cool night air refreshing her. But the breeze on her cheek alarmed her, for the wind was starting to pick up. It was not the night air that she needed. It was sunlight.
She scanned the light tower, and sure enough there it was, the bomb, together with more of the dreaded green stuff. She was in no shape to deal with that yet. It would have to wait. She raised her head and at a greatly reduced speed she took off, her destination indistinct, but approximately 38 miles straight up, where the sun’s rays would restore her powers.
“’Pear Tree’ from ‘Watchdog 2’, I got eyes-on on SG, portside, forward door to the deck housing. She’s hurt, she looks in a bad way –oh, she’s gone! Just kinda took off. Literally. Over.”
“Copy ‘2’, ‘Pear Tree’ out.” Partridge looked at Hudson. “Doesn’t look like they released her sir,” he pointed to a replay he had punched up on the monitor of Supergirl cautiously looking around as she went through the doorway onto the deck, before she disappeared vertically at speed.
Hudson turned to Wilson. “Well, she’s alive. And seems to have escaped.”
“You see? You worried over nothing” Wilson said, but he sounded disappointed.
“’Sceptre 1’ to ‘Pear Tree’. We are in position on aft deck. No sign of hostiles, over.” Daniels voice came through in a whisper. “We got devs all over the place back here. Gonna need 5 at least before we are in a state to go. Do we have confirmation SG defused the devs, over?” Hudson moved to the mike.
“Copy ‘Sceptre’. Negative, we believe she did but we do NOT, repeat DO NOT have confirmation. Clear an approach to the deck house as best you can. You got 3 minutes, no more. Then sit tight. Do NOT move in until you hear the ‘go’.’Pear Tree’ out. “ Hudson turned to Partridge “What ‘Dogs we got covering the stern?” he asked as ‘Sceptre 1’ acknowledged.
“6 and 8 sir. 2 and 4 are on the bow. Even numbers are the spotters, shooters are the odd. ” Partridge replied.
“’Pear Tree’ to ‘Watchdogs’ 6 and 8, cover ‘Sceptre’ team, acknowledge over.” Hudson listened as the two spotters for the snipers covering the stern affirmed the order.
“Where’s Jonesy?” he asked Partridge.
“On the anchor chain at the bow, sir. Waiting the go, once the Mayor and his wife are inside and we have a confirmed number of hostiles.”
“What’s their status?”
“’Watchdog 2’ has eyes on sir, they were being escorted to the bridge by one bad guy last we heard” Partridge didn’t look up as he hit the lap top controlling the monitors. An ensign was performing the same function alongside him , keeping the picture-in-picture shots from the various teams rotating through the monitors as necessary. The murky green images from the nightscopes made everything seem unearthly. Every few seconds the picture whited out as the decks were bathed in light from the revolving tower of the lightship. “Sir? Why the hell did we let them go in like this? This is fucked up.” Partridge said quietly.
“Don’t ask.” Hudson glanced at Wilson. It was not lost on Partridge, who sighed in disgust. On the screens, the greenish images vanished again for several seconds as the light from the lightship swept around in its arc, warning the unwary to stay away and leaving the ‘Sceptre’ team at the stern hideously exposed.
“That damned light could kill us.” Hudson said in frustration. He took control of the mike again.
“’Watchdog 2’ from Pear Tree. When this starts to go down, have ‘Watchdog 1’ take out that damned light. ‘Pear Tree’ out.”
“Do you think she’s run away sir?” Partridge asked, as Watchdog 1’s spotter confirmed their primary target over the radio.
“Do you, son?” Hudson stared down at the seated young officer.
“No, sir…but if she’s hurting…wounded…I don’t know…maybe she had to…” Partridge said uncertainly.
“I only know that kid by her reputation, but I don’t think she’s the ‘run away’ type.” He looked at Wilson. “We just need to get confirmation that we are only dealing with two guys and the Doc, then we are a go. Looks like we sent the Mayor in for nothing. Dammit! Why couldn’t she have escaped 10 minutes earlier?” he asked rhetorically. He sighed heavily. “Alert all teams that SG is no longer captive, but currently not on board, whereabouts unknown, but warn them she could return at any second.” He addressed Partridge.
“You think she will be back sir?” the young black officer asked.
“No. I know it. That girl never gives up.”
Far above the Earth, Supergirl hovered as if suspended by invisible strands, her arms spread out as if crucified, her head right back, touching the top of her shoulders, her golden hair cascading down her back, still matted in places from the blood from her neck wound. She sighed as she felt the Sun’s caress, though directly below her the Earth was in darkness as she floated in emptiness. It was a moan almost of pleasure , of ecstasy. She felt it revitalise her, soaking into every cell, stimulating her regeneration, spreading a marvellous, warm glow throughout her body. The pain receded, shrinking away to nothing at her ribs, though the tiny piece was still in her. Her hand ached still, but less so, and the terrible stabbing pains from her thigh and her shoulder both eased. She moved her limbs in an arc, like Da Vinci’s famous diagram, Vitruvian Man, as if making an invisible snow angel in the sky. Her strength returned with each second bathed in the Sun’s glow. She still felt a little stiff, and she was in no doubt that the strength in her arm and her speed would be affected by the wounds, but she was immeasurably better than just a few minutes before. She held her position, arms and legs fanned out , head back and was motionless, as she felt herself become as well as she would ever be, with these pieces still embedded inside her. The Sun caressed her upturned throat, kissing her neck wound better, like a caring lover. She felt wonderful.
What had the Doctor said as she lay dying? Something about ‘taking out the trash’ or ‘throwing this piece of trash overboard’? Something like that. Yeah, well Doc, you better look out, ‘cos this piece of trash is gonna come back…and…er…um…make you…um…oh…er… wish it wasn’t…um… trash day….er…after all… or something. Oh, crap, that was lousy. Screw it. She was no good at metaphors at the best of times, she decided, let alone after she’d been shot. “Oh, to hell with it, I’m just gonna whup her ass!” she thought to herself.
Time to hustle.
She opened her eyes to gaze at the world upside down for a moment, seeing her golden hair shining wonderfully in the sunlight, it felt glorious; then slowly she raised her head, her face a mask of grim conviction. She extended her left fist slowly, with a little wince as the shard twinged in defiance of the movement, then gathered her right fist before her right breast, again the act causing a stab of pain in her palm. She bent her left knee stiffly, her thigh aching as she did so. She gritted her teeth, locked her jaw in determination and her cool, clear blue eyes became as hard as diamonds as she rocketed back toward the ground.
Time to save the city and stop that bomb.
And rescue the Mayor.
And get that belt for Wilson.
And kick some geologist butt.