Chapter 11: The Echo of Vulture's Wings
[Main Mission: Neutralize the Vulture gang offshoot and retrieve stolen Stark tech. Reward: 150 Coins, 1 Gu egg. Side Mission: Find evidence of the gang's supplier. Reward: 50 Coins.]
The notification popped up in the corner of my vision, a little digital icon of a Stark Industries logo with a question mark over it. It was 3 a.m. and I was half-asleep on the couch, staring at the ceiling, thinking about whether a hotdog was a sandwich or a taco. Priorities, Adam, priorities.
"The universe really doesn't care about my sleep schedule, does it? Or my highly intellectual debates about tubular meat products. Honestly, what's a guy gotta do to get a full eight hours in this town? First, an alien invasion, then the walking definition of a human war crime joins my crew, and now this. A guy can't catch a break."
I sighed and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The notification was a new kind of mission, one that felt more... specific. The last few had been pretty generic, "stop bad guy, get coins." This one mentioned Stark tech. That meant a serious paycheck and a serious headache.
I sent out a quick alert to the team. Frank was probably up anyway, polishing his knives or whatever it is he does when he can't sleep. Scott was likely dreaming about being a regular-sized human, and Luis… well, Luis was probably dreaming in 4K, full-sensory-overload monologue mode. And Skye… I pictured her, probably still hunched over her glowing keyboards, a half-empty mug of coffee cooling beside her.
"That woman is a menace to the concept of a normal sleep cycle. A beautiful, brilliant, coffee-addicted menace."
Twenty minutes later, we were all in the "war room," which was really just my loft with a big touchscreen monitor I'd gotten from a mission reward. Frank, silent and intimidating, stood in a corner, arms crossed. Scott was fiddling with his suit's regulator. Luis was already talking, gesturing with his hands.
"So, here's what I'm thinking, right? This Vulture gang, they're like the B-team of villains. You know, like the villains in a show that's been canceled but they still got to finish the season? They think they're hot stuff, but they're just a bunch of sad trombones. So we roll in, all suave and mysterious, maybe I do a little distraction dance, a little razzle-dazzle, you know?"
"We're not doing a distraction dance, Luis," I said, pulling up a map of the warehouse district. "This is an offshoot of the original Vulture's crew. They're more tech-focused, less flying-and-looting. They've been hitting smaller Stark warehouses, grabbing prototypes."
Skye, who had been quietly looking at the data I'd pulled up, spoke without looking away from the screen. "The data points to a new leader. Calls himself Jason. He's not as experienced as Adrian Toomes, but he's smarter. He's been using a specific type of signal jammer that's almost impossible to trace."
"So he's a tech nerd. Great. Another one," I grumbled, "It's like the universe heard I wanted a break from magic and went, 'How about... technology? But evil.'"
Frank finally spoke, his voice a low growl. "How we hitting them? We go in hard, fast. No survivors."
Skye's head snapped up. "No! We are not going in and killing people, Frank. The mission is to neutralize them and retrieve the tech. Not... not a massacre."
The air in the room got thick. Frank's stare was a physical thing, cold and heavy. "Messy is better. Clean is for parades."
"Ah, the old moral debate. Right in the middle of a strategic planning session. It's like trying to plan a group project with a pacifist, a barbarian, and a guy who thinks a pie chart is a pizza. This is why I get grey hairs."
I stepped between them, holding up my hands. "Okay, okay, everyone take a breath. Skye, you're right. No unnecessary casualties. Frank, you're right. Speed and force are key. So we'll compromise. We'll be quick, we'll be brutal... but we won't be homicidal. I'll be the judge of what's necessary."
Skye looked at me, a glimmer of relief in her eyes. Frank just grunted, which I took as a reluctant agreement.
The plan was solid. Skye would use her Techno Gu to get us past their digital defenses and pinpoint the location of the stolen tech. Scott, in his Ant-Man suit, would be our infiltrator and saboteur. Frank and Luis would be our muscle, and I would be the field commander, using my Meta-Knowledge Gu to anticipate their moves.
As we geared up, Skye handed me a small, sleek earpiece. "This links directly to my laptop. I'll have eyes on their system. I can tell you where the bad guys are."
"Sounds good," I said, putting it in. "I'll try not to get shot."
"You say that like it's a possibility," she said with a dry smirk.
"That's my girl. She gets it. The sarcasm, the dark humor... it's like a shared language. It's almost cute, if I weren't so professionally sarcastic myself."
The warehouse was on the docks, a decrepit, salt-eaten building that smelled of fish and desperation. From a vantage point across the street, Skye was already at work, her fingers a blur over a keyboard.
"Alright, boys," I said into the comms, my voice low. "Scott, you're up. Get in there, find the main power grid, and disable their internal comms. Skye will guide you. Luis, you and Frank are with me. We'll hit the main entrance. Remember, no killing, Frank. Just... 'severe incapacitation.'"
"I know what that means," Frank grumbled back.
Skye's voice came through the comms. "Their system is old, Adam. I'm in. Scott, I'm sending you the layout. The comms are on the second floor, a small relay room. Watch out for trip lasers."
The mission was a symphony of chaos and efficiency. Scott, a tiny blur, zipped through the ventilation ducts. Frank and Luis took out the guards at the main entrance with a brutal, synchronized precision that was both terrifying and impressive. Frank used his Furious Strength Gu to punch through a reinforced steel door that was supposed to be a surprise defense.
"Told you 'severe incapacitation' was the way to go," I muttered, but no one heard me.
We found Jason in a lab-like section of the warehouse, surrounded by Stark tech. He was a skinny kid, maybe early twenties, wearing goggles and a smug grin. He was tinkering with a device that hummed with a dangerous energy.
"Well, well, if it isn't the 'hero' team," he said, not even looking at us. "The whispers say you're fast. But you're not fast enough."
He pressed a button, and the humming device pulsed. Suddenly, all the lights flickered and died. Alarms blared, but weirdly, the comms were silent.
"Oh, that's just great. A self-destructing, comms-jamming device. It's like he watched a little too much spy fiction. The guy's a walking cliché. A dangerous, self-important cliché."
Frank charged, but Jason pointed a small, sleek pistol at him. The pistol fired a bolt of energy that knocked Frank back, his Furious Strength Gu barely holding up.
"He's using a frequency-based pulse cannon," Skye's voice, surprisingly, came through my earpiece. "He's hijacking the local frequency. It's low-tech enough to not be affected by my initial hack. Adam, you need to get closer!"
I nodded, using my Meta-Knowledge Gu to scan my mental database of Vulture's tech. The designs were all about repurposing alien tech and using it in unconventional ways. This kid was doing the same. His pulse cannon probably had a short range and a long cool-down.
"Luis, get him talking," I ordered.
"Get him talking? Adam, he's got a sci-fi gun! What, you want me to ask him his favorite color?" Luis yelled, but then he saw my face. He took a deep breath. "Okay, fine! Hey, Jason, right? Listen, man, I get it. You're trying to make a name for yourself. Vulture was a big guy, a legend in the theft game, but you? You're a little... minimalist. I mean, this whole warehouse? It's like you're trying to open a pop-up store for evil."
Jason looked genuinely confused, and for a split second, his focus shifted. That was all I needed. I lunged forward, dodging another energy blast, and deployed my Strategic Gu. I didn't have any combat Gu, but I had wits. I tackled him, and we went sprawling. The pulse cannon clattered across the floor.
Frank was back on his feet instantly. "He's mine."
"No!" I yelled. "He's got the side mission data! Where did you get the tech, Jason?"
He just laughed, a manic, high-pitched cackle. "You think I'm going to tell you? This is all... this is all just the beginning. The real boss... he's in another league."
Suddenly, a hidden panel in the floor opened, and a flash of light blinded us. A small drone shot out, grabbing the device from Jason's hands and zipping away. Jason himself disappeared into the hole in the floor, and it sealed shut behind him.
"Well, that's just fantastic. The bad guy got away, the tech got away, and now we've got a hole in the floor and a whole lot of questions. I swear, this job is just one big 'what the hell' moment after another."
Skye's voice came through, a little shaky. "He's gone. The drone's signal just... vanished. And I'm picking up a massive energy signature. The device... it's not a weapon. It's a component. A power source. And the schematics are all over his hard drive."
I looked at the others. Scott was back, a normal-sized human again. Luis was rubbing his head, still flabbergasted. Frank just looked... disappointed he didn't get to inflict more violence.
"Side mission accomplished, I guess," I said, a wry smile on my face. "We found the supplier... kind of. He's called 'the real boss.' Real specific, real helpful. Okay, team. Let's get out of here. And someone please tell me what a hotdog is."
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