“Please answer the question,” Mr. Sturgess said and shook the bag for emphasis.
“It looks to be my spare grappling gun,” Hank said quietly.
“How do you think it got there?”
Hank looked down.
“How, Mr. Wipple, did this get in Bobby’s hand? Did he take it from you? But you and I both know that didn’t happen. Why then, Mr. Wipple, was Bobby lying on the floor holding a grappling gun? Yourgrappling gun?”
Mr. Sturgess leaned forward onto his feet … Read More
“I called my contact, Sammy Sparts. He was a third-rate gangster and a first-rate drunk. He told me to meet him in an old warehouse south of the city. So I went.
“Sparts held a gun to my wife’s head. He seemed high, souped-up on some drug. But he didn’t have any men with him. It seemed odd, but I was too focused on my pregnant wife to worry about it.
“I tried to talk him down, … Read More
Mr. Sturgess suppressed a sigh. “Please be more specific.”
“As I was trying to explain, I had kept my identity secret. I was worried some criminal or nut job would come after my wife, my family. I’d just helped put away the two youngest sons of the Ganglia family, and they were champing at the bit to find something they could use to get me.
“But since my identity was secret, when the merchandising company tried to … Read More
“No, Sarah! Listen,” Hank said. “It didn’t happen the way Sparts said.”
“Well, how didit happen?”
Without warning, the door opened. A police officer, one a few decades younger than the guards, entered. He passed Sarah and Jimmy, stepped to the side of the bed, and took off his cap. Under his arm he held a stack of papers. “I’m real sorry about this,” he said. “Are you Mr. Henry Alexander Wipple?”
Hank blinked at him and forced down … Read More
As soon as word leaked that the police had found a guy in a Valiant suit, the news media, well-wishers, and protesters swarmed. He could have been a crackpot in a costume (and probably was). But given his age, his location, and the old, hand-stitched costume he wore, the court of public opinion made its ruling: he was The Valiant.
A few officers who’d been on the force since The Valiant’s glory days made it their … Read More
The next day it rained again. When Jimmy got off the bus at the end of the day, Hank did not meet him with an umbrella. All Jimmy found was a hastily scrawled note about staying with the neighbor till his mom came home.
Hank wandered down a city street a few miles away. For hours he’d walked block after block, in the cold, relentless rain, listening. Finally he heard it: a scream.
He stepped into an … Read More
The rain poured down as Jimmy’s bus pulled back onto the street after school. Hank headed for the end of the driveway with a wide umbrella, deflecting the slings and arrows of nature. He’d always had a knack for timing. Thirty seconds after he stopped at the end of the driveway, Jimmy’s bus arrived. Jimmy exploded out of the bus and babbled all the way to the front door.
While Hank started on supper, Jimmy banged … Read More
Hank flicked lumpy muffin mixture into tiny baking cups. He shoved the pan into the oven and turned his head toward the living room. Raising his voice to be heard over the TV, he shouted, “Turn that old cartoon off already. You’ve got to get going.”
“It’s almost over, Grandpa,” Jimmy called back.
Hank didn’t approve of Jimmy watching TV, and he liked Jimmy’s choice of programming even less. The Miscellaneous Adventures of The Valiant, based (loosely) on … Read More
Cy stood in his dress uniform in front of Gerard, Pyrite, and Ox. Toliver stood off to one side.
“For your aid in bringing Colonel Kilmer to justice and in destroying the business networks of Boss Clawf, I have been authorized to suspend your sentences and to give you clemency for the offenses you committed while under Kilmer’s threat.”
“That’s not quite expunging them, Cy,” Gerard said.
“No,” he said with a defeated tone. “Nor can I give … Read More
Gerard and Ox ran down the hallway. Plasma fire singed the walls around them as Clawf’s underlings shot at them.
When Gerard reached the hangar, she ducked inside the door, waited for Ox to get through, then wired the door shut. “Ox, the yacht!” Gerard shouted, pointing to Boss Clawf’s pleasure cruise vehicle.
“It have guns?” Ox asked as he ran towards it.
“We’ll see,” Gerard said.
She could hear Clawf’s minions outside the door firing up a precidian … Read More
Toliver and Cy came to the exit door closest to where Toliver had parked their ship. They opened it to see Masq holding a tied Pyrite at gunpoint. “Any closer and he buys it,” she said.
“What if we don’t care about him?” Cy asked.
“You wouldn’t have come this way if you didn’t,” she said. “Kilmer locked the bird down remotely, so you won’t be getting off this rock that way.”
“He was our teammate. You were … Read More
Cy was a blur of red and landed between Boss Clawf and Gerard as Clawf pulled the trigger. His red skin absorbed the plasma shot as he lobbed the explosive at Kilmer.
He gathered Gerard in his arms and ran. Ox and Toliver followed them. Cy left Fishmonger where he lay.
Kilmer had gotten a deflector shield up in time, but the explosion still sent Kilmer and his tablet flying.
When they came to a wall, Cy punched … Read More
“While I’d love a shootout,” Boss Clawf said, “it’d be no fun cleaning your guts off the wall. My brother’s daughter deserves a better death. How about you all just give up your weapons and we can handle this without brain paint, huh?”
“You’ll regret it if I die,” Gerard said.
“No one’s left to mourn but me.”
“No one will mourn your business, but you.”
“You’ve got an angle, huh?” Clawf asked, half proud and half frustrated with … Read More
“Ok, I’m fibbing,” Gerard said. “But it’s for the good of the mission. Clawf has a special backup process that your virus doesn’t account for.”
“How do you know?” Toliver asked.
“Preparation,” Gerard said.
“Fishmonger, what’s your read?” Toliver asked.
Fishmonger looked over her shoulder. “She seems to be telling the truth.”
“Then shut up and let me do the job you threatened my life to get done.”
“Fine.”
“What are these files anyway?” Fishmonger asked.
“You still don’t need to know,” Toliver … Read More
One more good kick and the hole was large enough for Ox to get his hands in and pry it open. Guards entered, drawn by the alarm.
“Ox, Fishmonger,” Gerard yelled. “Take care of them.”
As Ox and Fishmonger advanced on the guards, Gerard pulled a small metal box from the safe. She opened the lid and pulled out a handful of ID cards; she slipped those in her pocket, then pulled out two rings and slipped … Read More