One More Trigger Pt 16 (Patreon)

Part Sixteen: Assault!

Glory Girl, carrying Panacea, landed beside the car less than five minutes later.

Vista climbed out of the car, along with Sparx and Tattletale, as the white-clad girl set her sister on her feet.

“Thanks for getting here so quickly,” Sparx greeted them. “Just so you know, you’re welcome to join us in this, but we’re going to have to have a full meeting to talk about this whole ‘liaison’ thing, later.”

Alan Barnes got out of the driver’s seat of the car. “That’s not a ‘no’,” just so you know,” he amended. “Sparx is merely pointing out that we need to discuss it.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sparx. “It might look a bit embarrassing if we end up having more liaisons than actual members.”

“So I’ll join,” said Panacea promptly.

Glory Girl stared at her. “Ames?” she asked. “Are you sure about this?”

Panacea looked back at her. “No,” she admitted. “But can we talk about this later, please? Because I think this is likely to be a very long discussion, with lots of shouting. And family references. Which don’t need to be brought up here.”

Glory Girl sighed. “Okay. Just don’t go joining any other teams without telling me, okay?”

Panacea hesitated, then nodded. “Fine,” she conceded. “I won’t join them till we’re done here and we have time to talk it over.”

“Okay,” cut in Sparx. “This is fascinating and all, and I really don’t want to interrupt, but we have an attack on a supervillain’s base that we need to manage, and time is ticking.”

“So you’re really attacking Coil’s base?” asked Glory Girl.

“And what use will I be in this?” chimed in Panacea.

“Lots, if someone gets hurt,” Aerodyne told her.

“Hey, Amy’s not a frontline cape,” Glory Girl protested. “She shouldn’t be coming in with us.”

Sparx drew a deep breath. “One,” she said in a tone of quiet command, “I’m in charge. I say who goes and who stays. Two. We have trained for this. Specifically, we’ve trained in the protection of a non-powered fourth. Three.” She looked directly at Glory Girl. “If you can’t follow my orders, you stay out of it.”

“What?” exclaimed Glory Girl. “Hell no! Amy comes along and I stay out of it? Not in this lifetime!”

“If she’s willing to follow orders and you’re not, I know which liaison goes on the mission and which one sits it out,” Sparx stated implacably.

Glory Girl tried to stare her down. She had some practice against her mother; Carol Dallon was a high-end lawyer, and had reduced strong men to wilted wrecks. But Sparx had a certain amount of practice against her father, who was also a lawyer; she did not back down.

“For the last time,” the redhead said firmly, “are you willing to follow my orders in the field?”

Glory Girl did not drop her eyes. “Okay, fine,” she conceded. “You’re team leader. You call the shots.”

“Good,” Sparx raised her voice. “Okay, everyone. Listen up.”

She looked around at the group. “We three, myself, Ladybug and Aerodyne, have trained for this sort of thing. We work well together. We can get meaning across in a word or two, or even a gesture. Tattletale is also good at this; she can pick up meaning really quickly. But we have a potential problem now,” she observed, looking at Vista, Panacea and Glory Girl.

“A potential problem,” repeated Panacea, uncertainly.

“Panacea, you’re less of a problem, because you aren’t a frontline combatant,” Sparx told the biokinetic frankly. “But Vista, you and Glory Girl are from two separate teams, and you’re combat capes.” She frowned. “You’re going to have to work in with us. I’ll be calling the shots, so you do what I say. We don’t have room for solo operators. Okay?”

“Sure,” responded Vista promptly. “I work best with others anyway.”

Sparx nodded. “Glory Girl?”

The white-clad teen nodded jerkily. “Said I’d follow orders, didn’t I?”

“So you did,” agreed Sparx. “And my order for you is this: you will stay within the group, inside the perimeter, until I say otherwise. You do not leave the group, for any length of time, for any reason. You do not go flying off to engage any hostiles unless and until I say so. Got it?”

Glory Girl stared at her. “But that’s –!“ she began.

Two strands of Sparx’s hair trailed across in front of Glory Girl’s face, and a fat blue spark popped between them; the smell of ozone filled the air. Glory Girl shut up.

“One more time,” Sparx’s voice was low, calm. “Do you understand your orders?”

“No!” retorted Glory Girl. “I mean, yes, but ... I don’t understand why.”

“So you don’t die in the first thirty seconds,” Alan Barnes told her flatly. “You’re going to be walking into a shooting gallery. They’ve done that, in training. Have you?”

“We’ve done plenty of dangerous stuff –“ Glory Girl protested.

“How much indoor fighting have you done, where you can’t manoeuvre to your best advantage?” put in Sparx. “Because we’re simulated that in training, too.”

Glory Girl set her jaw. “Whatever happened to ‘hit them till they fall down’?” she asked stubbornly. “Because you don’t need a plan to do that at all.”

“Glory Girl,” Sparx said tiredly, “there are more of them than there are of us. Many more. They will see us coming, and have time to set an ambush. We need to be able to weather the ambush. It’s as simple as that. Now will you agree to follow the orders I just gave you?”

“Can I say something?” asked Panacea.

“Sure,” assented Sparx. “Knock yourself out.”

Panacea turned to Glory Girl. “Seriously, Vicky, stop arguing,” she said urgently. “She knows what she’s talking about. I was in the bank; I saw how they work. If she says she has a plan, she has a plan. Can you just accept that she knows what she’s doing?”

Glory Girl looked stubborn. “Mom never gave orders like that,” she pointed out.

“Different team, different rules,” Sparx retorted. “Last chance. Agree to follow my orders without question or hesitation, or you sit this one out.”

Glory Girl eyed her; the redhead seemed utterly serious.

“Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll do what you tell me.”

Sparx nodded curtly. “Stay close, keep your eyes open. Do not leave the immediate group. That’s your orders for now. Lisa, how far from the entrance are we?”

Lisa, who had been following the back-and-forth with considerable interest, pointed. “That parking garage over there. Lowest floor.”

Sparx nodded. “Ladybug, Aerodyne. Suit up and join us.”

“Roger that,” came Taylor’s voice. “Let’s do this.”

Alan got back into the car. “I’ll see you ladies back at the rendezvous point. Call if you need extraction.”

Sparx leaned in the drivers’ side window. “See you later, Dad,” she said softly, and kissed him on the cheek.

He patted her on the shoulder. “Go beat up some bad guys,” he replied, just as softly. Putting the car in gear, he drove away.

Glory Girl watched the car leave. “Wait, what?” she asked blankly. “He’s leaving us to do this?”

Sparx nodded. “We’re the capes here. Dad’s just ... Dad. Where we’re going, he can’t help. He knows that.” She pointed toward the parking garage. “Come on; let’s go.”

***

Even as Vista began to shrink the space between the group and the parking garage, Glory Girl gathered her sister in her arms. "Come on, Ames," she said, "Let's show these slowpokes how it's done."

"Wait -" began Sparx, but they were already gone in a rush of wind and a flutter of skirts.

When the others got to the parking garage, just a few moments later, Glory Girl was leaning nonchalantly against a concrete pillar, while Amy stood a few paces away.

“I thought you said you’d follow orders,” Sparx said to Glory Girl in a controlled tone of voice.

“I did,” protested Glory Girl. “I haven’t broken them yet.”

Sparx pointed into the depths of the parking garage. “There could have been an ambush waiting in here. A dozen men with machine guns. You and your sister would have been gunned down without warning. Because you couldn’t get it into your head that when I give an order, I mean it.”

“But there wasn’t an ambush,” Glory Girl pointed out. "And besides, we hadn't started yet."

"The orders came into effect the moment you acknowledged them," Sparx informed her. "And next time? There might be. Are you going to risk Panacea’s life on a chance that it might not be an ambush, every single time?”

"Would they set up an ambush out here?" pressed Glory Girl.

Sparx gave her a direct look. "I don't know. Would they?"

Glory Girl paused to think about that, and Sparx went on. "We don't know what they will do, so we can't assume anything. We've got to work on the assumption that they will do whatever will screw us up the worse, if we let our guard down for just one second."

“Sounds like an awful paranoid way to do things,” commented Glory Girl.

“We’re a bunch of teenage girls about to attack a supervillain’s base,” pointed out Sparx. “Paranoia is a survival trait, here.”

A rush of wind heralded the arrival of Ladybug and Aerodyne.

“Scouted?” asked Sparx, indicating the interior of the parking garage.

“Scouted,” confirmed Ladybug. “Clear.”

Sparx nodded. “Formation orders,” she stated. “Tattletale, with Aerodyne and me. Vista, Panacea, one back. Ladybug and Glory Girl, rear position. If we have to go two by two, it’ll be me and Tattletale, Aerodyne and Vista, Glory Girl and Panacea, then Ladybug. Everyone got it?”

“Sure,” said Vista.

“Got it,” Tattletale replied.

“I’m good,” Panacea noted.

Glory Girl was silent.

“Glory Girl?” asked Sparx.

Glory Girl shook her head. “Why am I up at the back?” she asked angrily. “I’m the brick here. I’m the one who can take a hit. You’re wasting my abilities.” She threw her hands in the air. “I’ve been doing this for longer than you have! What makes you think you can give me orders?”

“Apparently I can’t,” retorted Sparx. “You’re off the team as of now.”

Leaving Glory Girl staring, she turned to the rest of the group. “Anyone got a problem with this?” she asked.

“Hey, wait a min-“ began Glory Girl, stepping forward. She was abruptly brought up short, as a network of Sparx’ hair formed a barrier between them. Vivid crackles of electricity snapped back and forth, inches in front of the teen hero’s face.

“I said, you’re off the team,” Sparx repeated, turning to face her.

Glory Girl’s eyes narrowed; Sparx took a step back, then caught herself. Aerodyne took a step back as well, looking around in concern; Ladybug steadied her.

“Vicky!” snapped Panacea. “Turn off your damn aura! What the hell are you thinking?”

The subtle mental pressure eased off; the feeling of apprehension faded away.

“What is your problem?” Ladybug’s voice was hard and sharp. “Are you trying to sabotage this mission?”

“No, of course not!” Glory Girl’s voice was indignant.

“Then stay out of our way,” Sparx told her flatly. “If you can’t be trusted to follow orders, if you're going to use your powers in such a reckless fashion, then you’re a liability.”

“Fine,” retorted Glory Girl. “I’ll just take my sister and be going, thanks.”

“Only if she wants to go,” Sparx pointed out.

Glory Girl turned toward her sister. “Amy?”

Panacea looked torn, but shook her head regretfully. “Sorry, Vicky. I want to do this. I want to be team liaison. I thought you wanted this too.”

Glory Girl shook her head. “I only came along to make sure you were going to be okay,” she explained. “I can’t do this. I can’t take orders from someone who’s only been doing this for a month, and who insists on throwing her weight around to prove she’s boss.”

“I’ve had my powers for more than a year,” Sparx said quietly. She didn't comment on the latter part of Glory Girl’s statement.

Glory Girl stared at her. “But you’ve only been in two cape fights! What have you been doing the rest of the time?”

“Three, actually,” Sparx corrected her. “And as for what I’ve been doing?” She paused for effect. “Training.”

She met Glory Girl’s gaze. “So yes, I have been doing this for a lot more than a month.”

“When was the first cape fight?” pressed Glory Girl. “I never heard about that.”

“Lung,” snapped Ladybug. “She took down Lung. Now, we’re wasting time here, while you’re trying to be all smart and undercut her in front of us. Either step up or step back. For fuck’s sake.”

Glory Girl jolted at that, and she looked at each of the other girls there. She couldn’t read any level of support in any of their faces; with a horrible sinking sensation, she suddenly realised that she was the outsider here, the unpopular interloper. Victoria Dallon was used to being the popular girl, able to jockey herself into a position of influence within any group; here, she was making no headway whatsoever. Even Amy wasn’t backing her up, and that said something about the situation.

“Fine,” she mumbled. “I’ll take your orders.”

“And?” pressed Sparx.

“And I’ll stand up the back and not do anything till you tell me to,” Glory Girl added reluctantly.

It hurt to back down; she wasn’t used to doing it. But if it let her be there to protect Amy, then yeah, she’d back down.

But Sparx better not push it.

***

“Cameras?” murmured Ladybug as they descended to the lowest level of the parking garage.

Tattletale pointed. “There, there, there and there.”

Ladybug nodded. “Got it.” Bugs swarmed to the appropriate locations.

They approached the darkest corner; an apparently undistinguished patch of wall. Only the faintest of vertical and horizontal cracks in the wall outlined the door; to the casual observer, it just wasn’t there.

Tattletale opened what looked like a perfectly normal fuse box, to reveal a keypad within. “Cameras inside,” she told Ladybug. “Concealed in the ceiling panels, every five yards. First one pointing back at this entrance.”

Ladybug nodded again. “Thanks.”

Tattletale tapped out a code on the keypad. With a grinding noise, the door pulled back into the wall, then slid aside. Bugs flowed into the opening.

“Two by two,” murmured Sparx, assessing the width of the corridor beyond.

They trooped inside; as Ladybug entered, the door ground back across, and then eased into position as part of the wall once more. Lights came on, dimly illuminating the gloom.

“Twenty yards, then stairs down,” Ladybug answered the unspoken question.

“They’ll start getting antsy in about one minute,” Tattletale answered the other one.

“Right,” Sparx ordered. “Combat readiness. Aerodyne?”

“Close up a bit,” Aerodyne said, looking back at Glory Girl. “I need us bunched up tight.”

Glory Girl looked as though she wanted to argue, but Panacea nudged her, and she stepped up close; Ladybug moved up behind her.

Aerodyne concentrated, and the air around them began to move in odd patterns; a field formed just a few inches over their heads, extending around them in a stretched lozenge shape. It was visible more as a distortion of the light than as a thing in and of itself.

“What the hell?” exclaimed Glory Girl, even as Vista reached out to place her palm on the surface of the field. “No-one said you guys had Tinker tech.”

Sparx shook her head. “That’s Aerodyne,” she explained. “She can make air do some pretty amazing things. Now, let’s move. I want to be as close as possible before they figure it out.”

***

They made it quite a way, moving at a fast trot, before anything untoward happened. When it did, it was dramatic.

“We’re in a –“ began Tattletale, before she was cut off.

With a rattling crash, a metal grate slid out of the ceiling before them. Another one dropped behind them. They were effectively trapped in a cage.

“– trap,” she concluded.

“Thanks,” Sparx commented dryly. “I would not have guessed.”

The air outside Aerodyne’s bubble began to look oddly hazy.

“Gas,” said Tattletale and Ladybug immediately; dead bugs began to litter the floor outside of the bubble.

“On it,” responded Aerodyne. “Vista?”

“I can rip out that grate ahead of us,” offered Glory Girl. She began to move forward.

“Stand down, Glory Girl,” Sparx ordered. “Vista’s got this.”

“But -!”

“I can purify the air inside the field, not outside,” Aerodyne explained patiently. “Go outside it, and you probably fall asleep, or die choking.”

"Plus, that grate's electrified," commented Tattletale off-handedly.

"You can't know that," protested Glory Girl, but she didn't seem so eager to go forward now.

Sparx extended two tendrils through the surface of the bubble, and let them just barely caress the metal bars. Fat blue sparks popped, and the redhead nodded. "Sure as hell."

"How much power's running through it?" asked Panacea.

"About two and a half TFM units, I'd say," replied Sparx.

"What's TFM?" asked Glory Girl incautiously.

"Too Frickin' Much," replied Ladybug and Aerodyne at the same time.

"You're kidding me," Glory Girl objected.

"Nope," Sparx told her. "One TFM is enough electricity to kill a fully grown man, with a bit of overkill on top to make sure."

Vista looked at the metal grate ahead, and concentrated. The bars seemed to draw aside, until the gap was wide enough for them to step through. Sparx used her hair to bridge the gap, so that the current flow would not arc to anyone as they stepped through.

The way ahead was clear. They moved on.

***

The gas had just about dissipated, according to Tattletale, by the time they reached the next obstacle; a large metal door.

"The base is on the other side," Tattletale told them.

"I know," Ladybug replied. "And we have a problem."

"Problems have solutions," Sparx responded. "What is it?"

"There's a guy with a very big rifle lined up on the other side of this door," Ladybug explained. "Maybe fifty calibre. I really don't know if Aerodyne's shield can take it."

"I thought you took care of the armoury," Aerodyne protested.

"I did," Ladybug confirmed. "This guy must keep it in his room or something." She paused. "And talking about the armoury, we want to hurry; they're working on opening it up."

"Crap," Aerodyne muttered. "I can't stop a bullet that big."

"Ladybug?" asked Sparx.

"I can harass him before he shoots," offered Ladybug. "I can even jam it after the first shot. But I can't stop him from taking that first shot."

***

"What do you have on the intruders?" demanded Coil.

For an answer, the tech called up multiple screens. Each one showed blurred images of bugs crawling over the lenses, spoiling the view of the people beyond.

"No clear images, sir," he reported. "But there's only one bug controller in Brockton Bay."

By their fruits shall ye know them. Coil nodded. "Ladybug, of Team Samaritan."

Team Samaritan, who captured Tattletale just yesterday. It began to make a certain amount of sense.

“Team Samaritan? Are you sure, sir?”

Coil looked sharply at the tech. “Why do you ask?”

“Because there’s only three people in Team Samaritan. And there’s no clear images, but I make it six or seven people at least.”

Coil frowned. If Tattletale has turned against me, then that makes four. Where are the other three coming from? Do they have some Wards along? It didn't make sense.

Well, at least I know which way she’s jumped.

“Call me the instant you know more,” he snapped, and hurried from the room.

On the way, he dropped the reality where a car was going to pick up Lisa, then split the current reality once more.

In his office, he picked up the microphone that tied into the base-wide PA system.

***

Universe A

“All personnel. The base is being invaded. Prepare for a fighting retreat. Escape routes have been planned. Follow your squad leaders.”

Strapping on his pistol, he headed quickly for the room where Mr Pitter was monitoring Dinah’s vital signs.

The male nurse looked up as he entered. “I heard the announcement,” he said worriedly. “Are we all leaving? She really shouldn’t be moved.”

“She’s going to have to be,” Coil told him bluntly. “If I have to take her and leave you, I will.”

“Oh,” responded Mr Pitter. “Oh.” He began to pack supplies away into a bag. “Do you want me to bring the drugs?” A moment later,her answered his own question. “Of course I should bring the drugs.”

Coil nodded impatiently. “Is it at all possible to wake her, to get answers from her right now?”

“Oh, I could wake her,” Pitter assured him. “But she’ll be about as lucid as a hamster on acid.”

“So, no, then,” commented Coil. He eyed the IV line going into Dinah’s wrist. “What’s that for?”

“Sedation, vitamin A, saline and the drugs," replied Pitter promptly. "It's got to be monitored carefully to avoid unnecessary mental or physical trauma. I've been scaling back the drugs so she'll be addicted but won't be going cold turkey immediately she wakes up ..."

He trailed off. "Right. We have to move her now. If someone can carry her, I'll keep the IV lines from tangling ..."

***

Universe B

"The base is being invaded. All personnel report to the armoury, then assemble by squads."

Strapping on his pistol, he headed for the room where Mr Pitter was monitoring Dinah’s vital signs.

The male nurse looked up as he entered. “I heard the announcement,” he said worriedly. “Is there going to be fighting? She really shouldn’t be moved.”

“I wouldn't worry about it,” Coil reassured him. “We have it well in hand.”

"That's good. I've been scaling back the drugs so she'll be addicted but won't be going cold turkey immediately she wakes up ..."

But Pitter was talking to thin air; Coil had already left, to begin organising the defences.

***

Universe A

His phone buzzed on his hip. He ignored it.

The guard he had stationed in the room with Pitter was carrying Dinah in his arms; she was as floppy as a rag doll. Pitter was fussing over the placement of IV lines. Coil wanted to shoot the man in the head and just go, but he restrained himself. Keeping Dinah healthy was the main aim here, of course. Pitter was expendable. They were all expendable.

***

Universe B

His phone buzzed on his hip. He answered it.

“Talk to me.”

“Sir, we have two problems. One, they’re past the gas trap already. No casualties. But we have visuals on them now. They’ve got Tattletale, Vista, Glory Girl and Panacea with them.”

Under his mask, Coil grimaced. Young, idealistic and powerful. A bad combination to face. “The other problem?”

“Sir, I’ve got reports from the armoury. The door isn’t opening. They’ve got panels off, and there’s bugs inside, eating the wiring.”

He spat out an expletive. Fucking Ladybug. “Tell them I’m on my way. Have Rogers set up with his sniper rifle. Also, gather all the insect spray we have in the base.” Apart from the sniper rifle – which Rogers kept in his room, and cared more about than he did most of his fellow soldiers – the heavy weapons were kept in a central armoury.

The armoury was protected by a simple keypad lock; all of his soldiers knew the combination. It was more of a measure to prevent intruders from gaining access to the weapons within, than to stop soldiers getting access to weapons. But disabling the lock from afar prevented his soldiers from gaining the access ... he gritted his teeth as he ran.

***

It was worse than he had thought.

The bugs – highly venomous spiders, it appeared – had swarmed the first man to get a panel off, and now he was leaning against a wall, sweating profusely, with several bites beginning to swell on his hands. Another soldier was using a first aid kit to apply a topical dressing. Coil spared him hardly a glance. The open panel was swarming with the verminous little creatures, spinning webs, apparently gnawing on important connections, and in general keeping his well-trained soldiers from accessing the very weapons that would allow them to do their jobs.

As soon as he entered the room, approximately half of the spiders left their work at the panels and swarmed down to the floor and up to the ceiling.

The soldiers observing – cautiously – the bugs stepped back. “What the hell -?”

It took Coil a moment to realise what was going on. The spiders were heading for him.

His costume was only light cloth; it would not stop a spider from biting him. And these spiders were intelligently controlled. Hastily, he backed from the room, slamming the door. Inside, he heard yells as, apparently, the spiders decided to attack the closest targets instead – his soldiers.

He kept moving, back to his office. Keying the mic once more, he spoke.

“All supplies of bug spray to the armoury. Repeat, all supplies of bug spray to the armoury.”

***

Universe A

His phone was still buzzing. He pulled it off his hip.

“Sir –“

He cut the man off. “Have all supplies of bug spray taken to the armoury at once. Deal with the infestation. Have Rogers set up with his sniper rifle to cover the entrance they will be coming in by.”

“Yes, sir.”

He put the phone away, then turned at a commotion. Trickster stood there, backed up by a nervous-looking Sundancer.

“What’s going on?” asked the leader of the Travellers. “Is the base evacuating?”

“We’re under attack by seven capes,” Coil told him tersely. “I’m pulling our forces back as a precaution. I’d appreciate your assistance in forming a rearguard.”

“Noelle’s here,” the young man told him stubbornly. “I’m not leaving. You need to take her too.”

“And how, pray tell, do we do that safely?” demanded Coil. “Moving her is tricky enough when she’s happy and there’s nothing strange going on. She would cause more problems than the incoming capes.”

“So you want the four of us to take care of seven capes?”

Coil shrugged. “You’re good; you’re powerful. I pay you enough, don’t I?”

Trickster stared at him for a moment. “Fine,” he growled. Turning on his heel, he left the room. “C’mon, Mars.”

The instant he was gone, Coil put Trickster from his mind. He had an escape to carry out.

As soon as he was away from the base, the self-destruct would go live. Any one of several triggers would set it off, detonating explosives buried in the walls, collapsing hundreds of tons of rock and concrete on those within. Including, hopefully, that traitorous bitch Tattletale.

The fact that he had recruited her by force, and kept her in line with threats of death, did not even cross his mind.

***

Universe B

The base’s not-very-impressive stocks of insect spray were ferried to the armoury, and war declared on the tiny creatures that stood in their way. In the meantime, several bitten soldiers reported to the sickbay, where the medic applied antivenin for their bites, and topical cream to the swellings, which seemed to be concentrated on the index fingers of their right hands. Trigger fingers.

Coil observed this briefly, adding another silent curse to the efficacy with which Ladybug was utilising her minuscule allies.

He was organising the remaining able-bodied soldiers in an ad hoc defensive line behind crates, when Trickster tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled, reaching for his pistol, then relaxed when he saw who it was. Behind the young man stood a nervous-looking Sundancer.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Trickster snapped right back. “What the fuck’s going on? Everyone’s running in circles.”

“We’re being attacked by seven capes,” Coil told him tersely. “Any assistance you can provide would be greatly appreciated.”

“Christ fuck,” Trickster muttered. “Noelle.”

“Keeping her calmed down would be a really good idea,” Coil observed. “We don’t want her getting agitated and breaking out. That would turn this from a bad situation into a disastrous one.”

“Right, right,” Trickster replied. “C’mon, Mars.” He turned and, followed by Sundancer, left at a fast trot.

***

Universe A

Coil had three men with him, apart from the soldier carrying Dinah, and of course the ever-present Mr Pitter. Who was, he had to admit, bearing up well under the strain. The male nurse’s entire attention was taken up with ensuring that Dinah was being carried in a safe position, and that the IV fluids were flowing smoothly into her veins.

The flat bark of Rogers’ fifty-calibre anti-materiel rifle echoed even through the heavy doors he had closed behind them. These doors would not now open from the other side to any but cape powers – and as soon as he was clear of the base, such an act would trigger the self-destruct – and so his rearguard was in truth fighting a last stand.

He wondered which of the intruders Rogers had hit with the rifle, and if they had survived. He didn’t hear a second shot, which meant that either the survivors were playing it safe, or Rogers had been somehow taken out of the fight. He didn’t like the second option, but nor could he discount it.

There may have been other gunfire, but as his men were only armed with pistols until they could get that damned armoury door open – he made a mental note to have his next armoury equipped with a simple mechanical lock – those reports would not be reaching him.

***

Both Universes

The soldier called Rogers lay with the barrel of his Barret .50 calibre rifle inserted through a gap between two crates. He lay dead still, swathed in urban camo gear, even though no part of him was exposed.

His target, the doorway opposite, only lay a few tens of yards from the muzzle of his rifle. To him, this was point blank range. He could do it left-handed with a potato gun. But he was a methodical man, and a killer, and so he aimed up as carefully as though he were placing a round through the skull of a terrorist at seven hundred yards.

He saw slim fingertips appear between the leaves of the door, and then the doors began sliding apart, forced to move against whatever was holding them together. He grinned to himself, savage and feral. This was the very definition of a bottle-neck, a choke-point. He could hold them here all day.

The doors opened far enough that he could see a body, a costume. White costume, blonde hair, tiara. She looked to be about sixteen, with a body an eighteen year old might envy. It didn’t matter to him; she was a target. As soon as he had a good sight picture, he squeezed the trigger. The rifle kicked back against his shoulder, and she fell back.

Centre mass. That’s a kill shot.

He went to work the bolt, but something impeded it. Looking down at his rifle, he saw to his consternation that webs had been wound around and around the weapon, gumming up the bolt and external action. He yanked harder. It moved, reluctantly, but it moved. The casing ejected, or tried to. No tinkle of brass on concrete. The ejection port was webbed over; the casing was stuck half-inside the port. He reached with gloved hands, tried to pry the casing out. So long as it was in there, the gun was jammed, useless.

And that was when the bugs secreted throughout his clothing began to bite, and bite hard.

Rogers considered himself a hard man, able to take discomfort in his stride. But he’d never come under this sort of attack before, with something that felt like red-hot needles piercing his very flesh, in places that absolutely demanded his attention.

Leaving the rifle, he doubled up, clawing at his clothing, screaming in higher and higher pitch as the bites went on, and on, and on.

***

Glory Girl dug her fingers into the gap between the two doors, and heaved. The doors slid aside, protesting and shrieking as metal bent and tore.

The flat bark of a heavy-calibre rifle sounded deafening in the relatively confined space of the base. Glory Girl was punched backward by the impact, just about where her cleavage began.

Sparx caught her as she fell back through the shimmering field. “You okay?” she asked.

Glory Girl nodded. “Sure. That was no love-tap, but all it did was shove me.” She cocked an ear to a rising series of screams. “That the guy who shot me?”

Ladybug nodded. “He’s kind of occupied right now. There’s bugs biting him where no man ever wants to get bitten by bugs.”

Glory Girl grinned and high-fived her. “I’m liking you guys more and more all the time.”

“Mutual admiration society afterward,” snapped Sparx. “By the numbers, people.”

***

Universe B

Coil was in his office when the Barret went off. He had good camera views of the open space, but less so of the corridor; Ladybug's damned bugs were doing far too good a job of obscuring camera lenses.

But he saw the first shot of the battle, and saw the slim cape driven backward. From the flash of white, and the fact that she had just prised open the heavy metal doors, he presumed that this was Glory Girl. She was rumoured to be an Alexandria type, able to take a big hit. Could she take that big a hit? He suspected that they would all find out, very shortly.

Rogers wasn't firing again, despite the fact that he must have a view of the corridor. Coil rotated a camera to catch a view of the sniper, and found him writhing frantically, trying to get at something inside his clothes. The gun lay abandoned, unattended.

Coil swore. He clicked on to another camera feed, one showing the armoury. White clouds of vapour showed where his men were attacking the bugs preventing them from entering the armoury. But all was not well there, either. Even well wrapped up, the men with the bug spray were being specifically attacked by the spiders and insects; they were spending as much time defending as they were attacking.

He swore again, just as a fusillade erupted out in the main area; the invaders must have come into full view of the defending soldiers. Pistols might be all they had, but with approximately six guns to each invading cape, none of which - apart from Glory Girl - was known to be bulletproof, he expected casualties to occur.

He did not hear the rustling in the air vents as he turned the cameras once more.

Part 17