Then there are times I really wonder just how I get into these bizarre situations. I mean, unless you've actually done this gig, you can't relate. How dangerous is it to be a accountant after all? Sure some folks have dangerous professions. Like researchers who work on viruses or with radiation. That could be dangerous, but it's not like being pursued by colorful criminal cohorts. You haven't lived until you've had Grond standing over you yelling, "GROND SMASH!" Of course, I have a somewhat bizarre look on just what being alive is.
But I digress. I have this bad habit of letting my thoughts wander. I've got a great job. On the one hand I work on computer research at my leisure. On the other, I get to fight crime and lead the life of a super heroine. My life is not dull.
There are times where I wish things were dull. Like that one time a few years back when I got to play courier. It seemed like a simple enough task. But I had no idea how complicated it would turn out being.
Campbell Industries International gets into all sorts of things. We're not the best in any one particular field, but we play in more fields than anyone else. You know the old jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none deal.
My assignment was to transport a free moving Resonant Imaging System cross-country. These were small little flying units just a little bigger than a basketball. They were a multi-purpose device that we were going to test out by having them mapping an old abandoned mine in Nevada. I'd let them loose in the mine, scanning their little hearts out.
In a matter of hours, they should have generated a three-dimensional map of the entire mine, accurate to within a matter of inches. In addition, the process should reveal untapped veins of ore, even pockets of water. They would do what would take hundreds of man-hours with virtually no risk. The little darlings would even do air quality measurements.
And so, my job was to get them to Nevada in one piece. Run the tests and then return home. It certainly sounded simple. Yeah, I know. Famous last words.
The devices were secured into one of the Freedom League's Situation Vans. These were large cargo vans that we had revamped for the team's use. They were essentially mobile command centers. But they were armored and held a variety of equipment. Just about anything we thought we would need out in the field.
The Van was in turn loaded on to a cargo plane that had been specially modified. The scientists in the Freedom League were always turning out one gizmo or another. The plane was refitted to carry special cargo and extra security measures had been added as well.
I was traveling alone on this mission. Well, alone in the physical sense. Jaime was with me as always. The cargo plane had been computerized so that my cyber-companion could come along as well. If necessary, she could control just about any part of the plane. This was a good thing as Jaime did not have to sleep, but I do need my beauty rest.
It was an early Thursday morning as I made the final preparations. The RIS probes were secured in the Situation Van. That in turn was loaded into the cargo plane and the wheels locked in place. Everything was ready to go. I climbed into the pilot's seat and prepared for takeoff.
Upon receiving clearance, I taxied down the runway and powered the plane into the sky. It was an awkward craft to fly, more like a wounded duck than anything. Nothing at all like the Sky Sabre. I certainly wouldn't be doing very many stunts with this beast.
The sun was just coming up over the skyline as I turned the craft to the west. Once on the proper heading, I let the autopilot take over. Of course in this case, the autopilot was Jaime. Should anything need my attention, she would alert me at the speed of thought. Literally.
The cargo plane was strictly no frills. The Situation Van was much more comfortable, so I took refuge in there. There was a small living area inside the van-- a small kitchen nook with a comfortable couch to take a nap on. So I whipped up some breakfast as Jaime and I chatted, telepathically of course. We'd discuss various projects and all sorts of things.
The trip was going smoothly enough, at least for the first hour. We were over Ohio when Jaime noticed something suspicious. The cargo plane was equipped with radar, but whatever was approaching couldn't be detected by that method. Fortunately, the plane was equipped with cameras and Jaime spotted our guest visually.
"We've got company coming, Jess," she informed me telepathically.
"Not that big of a surprise. I can think of more than a few organizations who would like to get their hands on our cargo." I concentrated and what Jaime had spotted appeared in my mind. "Magnify," I instructed her. The image grew in appearance. It was another aircraft, but its identity was not immediately recognizable. "Have you--"
"Already done," Jaime reported. She beat me to the punch and ran a comparison to other types of aircraft stored in her data bank. "Aircraft has a 98% probability of belonging to Iron Maiden's organization."
"Great..."
I had heard of speculation about Iron Maiden, of course, but this was going to be the first time I actually ran into her operatives. The story goes something like this: At one time, the woman who would became Iron Maiden was a French Countess during World War II. She aided a scientist escapee out of Germany during the final days of the Third Reich by the name of Albert Zerstoiten.
The scientist went on to become the infamous Dr. Destroyer. He rewarded the Countess many years later by creating a special suit of armor for her, much like he had done himself. Adopting the name, Iron Maiden, she became a world league criminal.
The one problem I had with that whole origin story was that Iron Maiden had to at least be in her sixties by now, if not older. The suit had been clearly crafted to fit the Countess's frame exactly. It was like skin-tight spandex, but metallic instead. All I can say is that I sure hope I have that kind of figure when I'm in my sixties!
No, the only explanation that made sense was that Iron Maiden was the daughter of this Countess. Maybe Dr. Destroyer was her father. Or that was just a story she spun to confuse folks. Any of these possibilities certainly made much more sense.
The whole thing was superficially similar to what became of one Hernan Cortez. This fruitcake had a serious hero worship complex when it came to Dr. Destroyer. He actually burned his own face to match the injuries sustained by Dr. Destroyer himself. Rumor had it that the Allies sunk the transport Zerstoiten was on, his body was badly burned in the fire that followed.
Destroyer also rewarded Cortez by constructing a suit of armor similar to his own. Hernan Cortez became Professor Muerte and formed Terror, Inc., a criminal organization based in South America.
Iron Maiden was far more rational and sensible then Muerte. But she was almost as fanatical in her loyalty. Some rumors had it that she and Destroyer were lovers. Now THAT takes courage! Of course, if she is his daughter, it's rather sick as well.
Anyway, Iron Maiden set up operations in Europe to avoid direct competition with Muerte and to annoy Fiacho, leader of the infamous Eurostar. Destroyer never had any love loss for Fiacho, as their goals and ideals are often at cross-purpose. 'Super egos run amuck' is a good way to describe the situation.
Destroyer rewarded Iron Maiden by providing her first charge in the organization that bears her name. The psionic Mentalla originally worked for the good Doctor. Other supervillains joined over time. Names such as the ninja Domino hailing from Japan. Greece provided the warrior called Myrmidon and Helios who had solar powers. The Australian Impulse and the man called Kinetron rounded out the current team.
"Take evasive action," I instructed Jaime. I didn't have much of a chance against the whole team, but if there were only one or two villains in that plane, then it could be a different story.
Iron Maiden was big on technology. Since that was a big part of Campbell Industries International, we had crossed paths before. Rumor had it that Kord Industries was a front for Iron Maiden. All in all, it made sense. Kord Industries was out to 'acquire' new technology, typically by whatever means they could. They frequently scoured the major technical schools looking for raw talent that they could exploit. No doubt that the final resting place for such things was none other than Dr. Destroyer himself. There was no question that the man was brilliant, but even worse he augmented his own technology with that of others. He would let others do all the work and then take their breakthroughs from them and claim the research as his own.
It was pretty obvious that IM wanted the RIS probes. My job was to prevent that. I am just so lucky at times...
"This isn't the Sky Sabre," Jaime shot back at me in response. "I'll try, but this isn't exactly the kind of ship you want to try and do aerobatics in."
"Do your best." I donned my gear belt and then exited the Situation Van. We were expecting trouble on this trip and were prepared.
Unexpectedly, the cargo plane banked right and dove in a futile attempt to shake its pursuer. I fell and tumbled in that direction. "You could warn me when you're going to do that!" Outside through the view ports, I could see clouds surrounding us.
"Sorry." In spite of the maneuvers, the Iron Maiden jet continued to rapidly close. "It's not working. They're tracking us through the cloud cover. Can't shake them. It's just a matter of time before they catch us."
"I know. Bring the defense systems on line." The craft leveled off and I was back on my feet.
"Done," Jaime reported. "You have a plan?"
"I'm afraid this is one of those times where I'm making this up as I go along. But we can see if one of our theories is correct, Jaime." I reached the cockpit and checked the instruments. Jaime seemed to have everything under control. I lowered the protective shields over all the cargo transport's windows. That way I wouldn't have to worry about rapid cabin depressurization caused by a stray shot. At twenty thousand feet, that could be nasty!
"Indeed. Initializing Alpha Wave Generator." Jaime had reached the same conclusion I had. Of all the villains associated with Iron Maiden, Mentalla made the most sense to be on this mission. Psionics are relatively clean as far as powers go. Clean in the sense that they really don't do any physical damage. No doubt the Iron Maiden would want this technology intact.
Since Jaime and myself share a form of mental rapport, we made some studies in the area of telepathy. The theory we developed was that each individual's brain waves operate on a unique individual frequency. Since Jaime and myself are essentially the same person, our brain waves are identical. We share the same mental frequency and thus can communicate with our thoughts.
Our hypothesis was that those who are telepathic can alter their own brain waves to match those of a target mind. With that theory in mind, we sat out to create a defense against telepathy. The result was the Alpha Wave Generator. The device flooded the area around it with randomly generated Alpha Waves that, in theory, would confuse the mentalist and thus make their psionic powers less effective. Guess we'll be finding out pretty quick here!
Everything seemed in place. The Iron Maiden jet was bearing down on us. Their boarding was inevitable now. I instructed Jaime to make it easy on them. No sense in damaging the plane any more than necessary. 'Side's, Sheryl would probably take it out of my paycheck!
I made my way back into the Situation Van, as it was the safest place. Thanks to my connection to Jaime, I was able to watch the IM jet close in. It paced the cargo plane and moved ever closer. Slowly, it lowered itself to the roof of the cargo plane using magnetic catches.
"They're heerree--," Jaime informed me in a Poltergeist-esque voice.
"I'll have the tea and crumpets ready in a moment," I sent back to her.
Jaime switched to the interior cameras. Zooming in, she displayed a portion of the ceiling. A wielding arc could be seen burning its way through the hull.
"At least they're being cautious," I thought mostly to myself. "IM must want our cargo pretty badly." They had not come in weapons blazing, so that did tend to support my theory. Hopefully, that meant she went light on the super villains as well. My guess was that Mentalla was a given for this job, but Domino could have fit the bill just as easily.
The invaders had finished their cutting. One kicked the burned out section away and it hit the floor with a loud crash. Iron Maiden agents started to drop in next. A full half-dozen of them entered the plane. They were dressed in identical outfits that superficially resembled medieval knights, but with decidedly modern overtones. Each 'knight' bore the crest of the Iron Maiden on their right breast. The agents each bore a rifle with side arms in a holster. They all wore helmets with visors, no doubt with a built in communication system.
The invaders formed a defensive perimeter and were fully expecting an assault. They were puzzled when none came. I guess they decided that the coast was clear, as a colorful form flew through the opening and hovered above the deck.
It was a woman in costume. Jaime confirmed that it was indeed Mentalla herself. She was tall, graceful, beautiful, and had a sort of sophistication about her. Don't you just hate those kind of people?
Mentalla wore a green bodysuit, with a deep plunging v-neck that ended right above her navel. She wore shoulder length red gloves, and ankle high matching flared boots. A large letter "M", also in red, covered her body. The "M" started at her feet, with the middle portion created by her v-neck. Her hair was long and brown.
"Show time!", I informed Jaime. "Let's go silent from now on. Just in case Mentalla can hear us." I assume that Jaime understood, as she did not bother to respond. Jaime was often my ace in the hole and I had no desire to make someone like Iron Maiden aware of her existence.
I only wished that this was most of the assault force Iron Maiden had sent on this mission. And that no other supers were hidden in their jet. I had a chance if I could even the odds some.
Jaime already knew what to do and activated the defense system. A powerful electric shock filled the entire cargo plane. I did say it had been specially upgraded after all. The shock was low in amperage-- it wouldn't kill anyone, but had enough voltage to light up some lives. It should keep them off balance for a few minutes.
Iron Maiden's Agents looked really spiffy in their pseudo-medieval armor. Pity that it carried electricity so well. I imagined that it would take weeks to get the smell of burnt hair of out their gear.
Jaime turned off the electricity and the agents crumbled to the ground, around the understandably confused Mentalla. Unfortunately, with her hovering, the attack didn't harm her at all.
I exited the Situation Van. The agents were all stunned and offered no immediate threat. Mentalla was a different story.
"You'll pay for this!", she screamed, seemingly unable to understand what happened to all her guards.
"Cash or check?", I taunted.
Enraged, Mentalla unleashed what I guessed to be some form of mental attack. A bolt of psionic energy leaped from her forehead and headed my way. I ducked underneath the blast and tumbled towards the mentalist. Hopefully the Alpha Wave Generator was making her telepathy react sluggishly. If not, I had to take her down fast.
Continuing to tumble forward, I activated my sabre and placed it on the club setting. Rising up, I swung the sword like a bat and smacked her hard in the breadbasket. The force of the blow knocked the air out of her lungs, and Mentalla flew backwards, up towards the cockpit.
Unfortunately, she was far more tougher than I gave her credit. A strike like that would have put most people down. Mentalla shrugged it right off. I did note that an some type of force surrounded the girl. It must have blunted my attack.
"So you want to play, little girl," Mentalla said to me in a low, menacing voice. She righted herself and flew back towards me.
"How about a nice game of checkers?", I offered. "Naw, you'd probably cheat."
"My favorite game is 'Mentalla Says'!" The mentalist concentrated and I felt her will trying to smother mine. It's a rather weird feeling, to say the least. Not at all pleasant. The suppression of your will is a frightening thing.
Mentalla was far stronger than I gave her credit for. Even with the Alpha Wave Generator going, she still was powerful enough for me to do her bidding. My will to resist her faded. My mind still worked, but Mentalla was now pulling my strings.
"Now, you will give me the device you are transporting. Put your weapon away."
I tried to fight it, but couldn't help myself and turned off my light sabre. I placed it back in its holder in my gear belt. "Sure thing," I said and turned back to the Situation Van. I needed to think of something fast or Iron Maiden was going to get the RIS!
Mentalla followed at a distance. "That's much better. You almost hurt me." She was an arrogant one, I'll give her that. If she'd give me an opening, I'd really hurt her!
We entered the Situation Van. Mentalla finally touched ground, but inside the insulated van. The electrical shock built into the plane itself would do me no good here.
Mentalla stood in the doorway and waited. "Give it to me now," she ordered, looking around.
"Yes, of course," I answered with a smile. At that moment, it came to me. A way out of this mess. I unlocked a cabinet and pulled out three small cases. "Here you go."
"Open them." I did as Mentalla ordered. I undid the unlocked the boxes to reveal the electronics inside of them. She seemed to be pleased. "Excellent. Take them outside and then do not move."
By now the Iron Maiden Agents were coming around. They were about to attack me as I exited the Situation Van, but Mentalla called them off.
"She is under my control. We have our prize," Mentalla gestured to the boxes. "Place them on the jet." The agents obeyed without question.
"What about her?", one of the men asked, gesturing towards me. "I say we waste her!"
"Patience," Mentalla answered. "And mind your place." Mentalla seemed to be considering my fate for a few moments. Her eyes latched on to some of the cargo straps that lined the walls of the plane. "Yes, perfect."
Following Mentalla's instructions, the Agents took several of the cargo straps and bound me with them. One man wrapped them around my ankles and knees, the other secured my hands behind my back. Using another strap, he forced my arms tight to my body. The straps were thick and, unfortunately, held me most securely.
Mentalla eyed their handy work with approval. "Excellent. Let us be off. Ta-ta-Deary. Don't go anywhere now," she added with a malevolent grin.
The agents and Mentalla retreated into their jet. I could only watch as I was forced to obey the last command given to me, that of not going anywhere.
Iron Maiden's jet broke the seal they had created when they docked. The cargo plane rapidly began to depressurize! Helplessly, I was lifted in the air, towards the hole they had cut the roof. Beyond was open sky!
