Chapter 90 - Powers Revealed

I’ve got to get them out of here.

Blake was all but invulnerable to the cops. However, his family and faction members within the town were not. Before the SWAT team could descend on their ropes, Blake leapt into the air. As he rose, he cast Gale toward the ground and propelled himself even higher. He ignored the sudden message from Montgomery, and instructed the interface to suppress all notifications for the next five minutes. Finally, when he was only fifteen feet from the helicopter, he used a Guided Spatial Step.

Blake landed on the nose of the helicopter with his knife now in hand and stabbed through the windshield to stabilize his position. Within the crowded cockpit, the pilot jerked the joystick back in surprise, and the craft darted into the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, Blake saw a black shape fall toward the ground.

Shit!

Blake immediately released his handhold and threw himself off the front of the helicopter. The sharp movement had unbalanced one of the SWAT team members. The policeman flailed his arms below Blake, as he plummeted seventy-five feet to the ground.

Stupid cooldowns!

His Hastened Gale was still in cooldown, and only a single charge of his teleport spell remained. Blake could not use that charge to reach the SWAT member, as he needed it to arrest their velocity, or this fiasco was for nothing.

Why the hell am I saving him?

Blake ignored the internal complaint and made his body more aerodynamic. Once he did so, he quickly began to narrow the gap between them. As Blake grew closer, the man’s screams echoed in his ears. Unfortunately, they only fell from a height of seventy-five feet, and the ground was rushing up at them.

Almost there!

Just before the police officer impacted with the unyielding dirt, Blake wrapped his arms around his chest. He activated his last Charged Guided Spatial Step. The teleport carried them only a foot in total distance, but the end result was significant. All of their momentum had been stripped away, and they now stood in the middle of the field.

The bewildered SWAT team member continued to scream until he fell limp in his arms. Blake observed the officer, to ensure he was unharmed. He then used his right arm to grab the M4 rifle tethered to his chest, and ripped it away.

That got his attention.

Blake released him and the man fell forward to the ground. With wide eyes, he turned and scrambled away until he was at least ten feet from Blake. He raised his hands and begged, “Don’t shoot!”

Blake rolled his eyes. “Why would I save you if I was just going to shoot you?”
 The man’s brows furrowed in confusion. He glanced to the helicopter, which descended once again, and then down to the ground. The officer shook his head, but kept his hands in the air and his eyes locked on Blake.

“What? No, thank you?” Blake said sarcastically.

Ropes were thrown out of the door of the helicopter, and men began to fast-walk down.

Seriously?! I just teleported on top of your helicopter, and the mission is still on? What’s wrong with you people!

That was when his Alacrity finally faded. It would be a full minute before he could reuse it, and by then, everything would be over. 

He hurled the M4 away, pointed his finger at his ‘prisoner’, and ordered, “Stay!”

Blake turned immediately to address the new threat. He sprinted toward the three descending SWAT members, thirty feet away. The first two landed and immediately cradled their submachine guns as they searched for a threat.
 Just as they spotted him, Blake ran past and clothes-lined them with his arms extended. They fired into the air as they were propelled backward. Before they even hit the ground, Blake turned and snatched the last man by his throat.

Blake deftly ripped the man’s gun away and tossed it into the field. While the SWAT member struggled in futility, Blake glanced over his shoulder at the two men he had thrown. They had rolled another twenty feet and were clearly dazed. When Blake returned to the man in his grip, he noticed zip strips attached to his vest. 

They’ll be less likely to attack if I take hostages.

He collected a handful, forced the man’s arms behind his back, and quickly zipped them together. That was when he noticed a pistol in the pit of the officer’s back. He tossed the weapon, patted the confused man’s helmet with a smile, trotted over to his companions, and repeated the action. When the three were bound, he searched for the officer he saved and swore when he found the man searching frantically for his discarded rifle.

With a sigh, Blake took off at a run, and quickly overtook him. “Looking for something?” he asked innocently.

The officer whirled around, his eyes wide, and brandished a pistol. Blake slapped it away, and winced when the man screamed.

I need to be gentler.

With exaggerated care, he grasped the SWAT member’s probably broken wrist, forced it behind his back, and zipped it together with his other arm. Blake then marched the man toward his fellow team members. 

Above them, the helicopter continued to hover as the pilots watched in horror at what took place below. Blake imagined their terror as they watched their highly trained tactical team disarmed and captured with ease.

Blake could faintly hear one of the captured men use code phrases as he yelled into the microphone of his headset. He was not sure what his prisoner conveyed, but wanted that helicopter gone. 

It was extremely loud and annoying.

He leaned over, carefully pinched the wireless headset between his fingers, and then placed it on his own head. The roar of the helicopter’s rotors was immediately dampened, and he heard the calm, controlled voice of command in his ears.

Noise-cancelling, that’s cool.

His Adjustable Dampen Sound spell was far superior, but had the opposite effect. It kept noises in rather than out. He could always evolve the ability in the future so it could be inverted, but did not really see the need. 

“... I repeat, are you ten thirty-three?” the controlled voice asked.

“Hello, this is Blake.” He was sure the recipient could hear his smile.

The voice went silent for a full four seconds before it finally stated, “This is Commander Niles of Phoenix Special Weapons and Tactics. Blake Summers, what are your demands?”

Blake glanced over to the four furious men on the ground with their hands tied behind their backs. “First, I want that helicopter gone. It’s loud, and it's kind of pointless anyway.”

Commander Niles hesitated. “I’m sorry, but we need that helicopter for visual oversight of the situation.”

Blake glanced up and tried to find a camera, but failed. “So, you have a camera on it that’s transmitting to what, Phoenix?”

“Correct.”

“Well, I’m about to drag my new hostages over to our jail, so you’re going to lose visual anyway. But, if you send the helicopter away, I’ll let these guys keep their headsets. Sound good?”

There was another short delay before Commander Niles responded. “If they remain in contact, that is acceptable.”

A moment later, the helicopter retreated, but was quickly replaced by an unarmed drone. 

Whatever.

Once Blake could hear himself think again, he turned to his captives and grinned. “Stand up. You guys are going to come with me.”

The four men struggled to their feet, but refused to follow. Instead, they glared at him.

“We have complied with your wishes,” Commander Niles spoke through his headset. “As a show of good faith, would you release one of the hostages?”

“No,” Blake answered simply.

In a pained voice, Commander Niles said, “Mister Summers, this is a give and take relationship. If you are unwilling to cooperate, we have no motivation to grant any of your demands.”

“Well, my only demand is that you don’t send anyone else inside these walls.”

Niles hesitated. “You don’t wish to escape your fortification?”

“Nope, I’m good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to move the hostages. For their own good, you probably want to tell them to cooperate. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”

Blake lifted the headset off his ears and placed it back on its original owner. He watched as the man narrowed his eyes and then said, “Yes, sir.” To Blake, he said, “I’m to follow you to the holding cell.”

“Excellent. Now I don’t have to carry you all.” Blake gestured with his hand and said, “This way.”

They marched across the field toward the large faction hall building. Down the graveled street, he saw his father peak from the doorway of the cookhouse. When Peter looked as if he wanted to join his son, he shook his head.

Lord Blake, Scion of Humanity: Dad, please go back inside. Actually, can you make sure everyone else stays inside as well? I’d rather these guys not recognize any of you.

After his father read the message, he nodded and ducked inside. While they walked down the empty street, Blake contacted his mother to ensure the bottom floor of the faction hall as well as the basement remained empty. He then had to reassure her that he was fine, and the situation was under control.

A minute later, they stood before the three story, marble faction hall and Blake had them open the large, double doors. The captives shuffled inside, trailed through the lobby and into the rooms beyond, until they finally reached the entrance to the basement. 

Blake opened the door for them, as they did not have access, and then gestured for them to descend the steps. They hesitated and blinked in the scant light, but in the end, complied. 

Of the twelve jail cells in the narrow basement, all were full of canned or dry goods, except Jerome’s cell. He strode up to the bored man and said, “It’s your lucky day, Jerome. You’re free.”

The native’s eyes darted to the zip tied SWAT team and his eyebrows rose. “It’s Invasion day already?”

Blake shook his head. “Nope. Not for another two weeks. But, as you can see, the police already know about us. No reason to keep you here anymore.”

The former prisoner seemed unwilling to test his luck and remained cooperative. He calmly exited the cell and waited by Blake’s side while the four new prisoners entered the eight by ten foot room. After the door was closed, Blake looked his hostages in the eye. “Okay, you guys might as well get comfy. You’re going to be in this cell for a while. After I escort Jerome here off our property, I’ll be back to talk to your Commander, got it?”

The team leader narrowed his eyes and looked like he wanted to argue. However, he held his tongue and replied, “Affirmative.”

Blake nodded to himself and strode away. “Let’s go, Jerome,” he called over his shoulder. Confident the native would follow, he marched up the stairs to the floor level, and escorted him out of the building. 

On his way outside, he grabbed one of the onboarding pamphlets. What had started off as a two-page document was now almost fifty pages thick, and included an extensive guide on how to survive the apocalypse.

Once they exited, Jerome followed behind him silently as they navigated the gravel roads. However, when Blake began to ascend the battlement stairs, the native halted and said in a confused voice, “Uh, aren’t we going to use the gate?”

“Nope, I want a flashy entrance for the sheriff,” Blake explained.

At the top of the battlement, he looked out the crenelation. He noted that their audience had increased in size. At least twenty vehicles lined the rural road. Most belonged to the Navajo county sheriff’s office, but it looked as if the Show Low police force had joined them as well.

The crowd of mixed law enforcement officers huddled behind their cars while the sheriff argued with someone on his cell phone. His face was red as he shouted replies into the tiny phone’s microphone. Beside him were two extendable ladders discarded on the ground.

Looks like someone didn’t get permission to climb the wall.

Blake smirked in satisfaction before he turned to Jerome. “Okay, time to let you go.”

Jerome looked confused and then frightened when Blake hugged him from behind. With the native in his grip, he leapt atop the merlons. Jerome stared at the ground, twenty-six feet beneath them, and cried, “Please! Don’t throw me off the wall! I promise I won’t tell them anything!”

Blake snorted. “I’m not going to throw you, and you can tell them whatever you want. Actually, I insist on it. Here, hold on to this,” he forced the booklet into Jerome’s hands. “Make sure to hand it over. Just not to the sheriff. Give it to one of the Show Low policemen. If the sheriff tries to take it, tell him he can blow me.”

By the time he finished his instruction, the police were fully aware of his presence and watched with bated breath. When he leapt off the wall with Jerome in his arms, he heard a few gasps of surprise.

Before they were even half-way down, Blake teleported to place them on the ground, without their previous momentum. Then, to their shocked gazes and open mouths, he waved, turned, and jumped. When he was almost ten feet into the air, he used the second charge of his teleport and appeared atop a merlon, twenty-six feet above.

Blake glanced down at his captivated audience and was not surprised when he saw them frozen in shock. Even the sheriff had stopped screaming into his phone. Instead, the overweight man’s jaw hung low and his eyes were wide.

With a smile of satisfaction, he announced in a loud voice, “I wouldn’t try to come inside if I were you guys.”

After the short proclamation, he turned and stepped off the battlement, inside the walls. He quickly headed for the fields and began to collect their discarded rifles. 

Jordan Weeks: Uh, Blake, I think we have a problem.

Damnit! What else can go wrong?

Lord Blake, Scion of Humanity: Is it an emergency?

Jordan Weeks: I’d say so.

Lord Blake, Scion of Humanity: Okay. Where are you at? I’ll talk in person.

Jordan Weeks: Probably a good idea. I’m at the shield generator.

Lord Blake, Scion of Humanity: I’ll be right there.

Less than a minute later, with confiscated firearms in hand, Blake arrived at the construction site. Both Jordan and Brent, their constructors, were present, however, no one else accompanied them. 

“What’s going on? Is it going to take longer without the other two constructors?”

Brent snorted. “That’s the least of our worries, Uberman.”

Blake rolled his eyes.

“I’d say so,” Jordan agreed in his thick, southern accent. “You ever hear of a ‘construction complication’?

Huh?

“No, what are you talking about?”

Jordan scratched his head. “Well, see, while you were up there playing in the sky, we both got a message that said there was a complication in construction. All progress stopped, and we can’t continue until it’s addressed.”

What the hell?

“What’s the complication?” Blake asked, nervous.

“It says we need new materials to complete the building,” Brent answered.

“Uh,” Blake stammered. “Don’t you need all required materials before it’ll even allow you to start?”

“Sure do,” Jordan confirmed. “Which is why it’s so strange, this hasn’t happened before. Says here we need ten pounds of ‘Tungsten-Iron alloy’ from off-world.”

What the hell? That freakin’ AI!

Blake swore. “I assume we don’t have any in the warehouse, or you would have just used that.”

Brent rolled his eyes. “Of course we would. We’re not idiots.”

Blake agreed, but his concern about the seemingly random change to the construction procedure grew. “Okay. The native combat teams are on the outside. I’ll contact one of them and have them complete a scenario. Kuruk can head inside the portal after they complete it and transport the alloy to the warehouse. Problem solved.”

Jordan shook his head. “Kuruk’s living with his mother in the bunkhouse now, so he can’t help. But, there’s a bigger issue. It says it has to come from a level one scenario. I don’t think any of the teams can handle it, and I’m pretty sure you need to stay here.”

Well crap.