Super Villain Grandpa (Cape High Series Book 15) (9 page)

BOOK: Super Villain Grandpa (Cape High Series Book 15)
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“Both of you will live to see S or M-class, I’m sure,” Banshee says. “It’s just something you’ll have to grow into. But they’re right, Olivia, they are qualified for this sort of work. Now, all four of you, I expect you to be back before classes are over for the day. We’ll be watching you on the screen.”

“Got it,” Emily says. “Um, should we ask Nico?” she adds, a bit hesitantly.

“Don’t draw attention to yourselves,” Nico says over the loud speaker. “Go in, do what you need to do, and then get back here. This is Rocco and Malina’s job.”

“Got it,” Emily says, heading out for the campus exit. She can’t teleport from inside the school.

 

***

 

“So, what's next?” Rocco asks.

“We’re going to the theme park,” Falconess says. “And you’re the quick and easy way to get there.”

“Are you sure you should?” Malina asks, looking worried. “I mean, things are going well, right?”

“Everyone is just assuming that he’s going to stay calm,” Falconess says. “That’s how he convinced Mom, back in the day. But the next thing she knew he was blowing up buildings and—”

“In his defense, he was up against Superior, right?” Rocco says. “I’ve seen Tatiana fight, it’s not an easy thing to go up against one of them. You probably have to throw everything you’ve got and hope it causes enough dust for you to get away.”

“Are you a villain or a hero, Rocco?” Falconess asks him.

“Villain,” he says. “I’ve got the papers to prove it, too. I’m not saying I agree with blowing up buildings, but I still hold to what Zoe said—you use the powers you’ve got. Maybe he just felt really out of his depth at the time and was doing the only thing he COULD do. I know I would, if I was fighting an S-class cape.”

“But you’re missing one fact,” Falconess says. “He didn’t HAVE to fight him. He could have just given in, held up his hands and let Superior bust him! If he had, he wouldn’t have—he wouldn’t have spent all of my life and most of his granddaughter’s life in a cell, unable to talk to anyone in his family.”

“True,” Rocco says. “But everyone screws up. Look, you can either hold it against him for the rest of his life, or you can forgive him. Personally, I don’t know Keliah all that well, but it looks like she’s made her decision.”

“Nobody knows Keliah all that well,” Malina admits.

Falconess sighs. “What should we do, Mom?” she asks her mom, looking over.

“He’s doing so well,” Angela says, still looking at the screen. “Let’s… let’s just watch and see,” she says. “I don’t want to make it look like we’re trying to cheat to get him on parole.”

“We should do it from somewhere closer,” Falconess says, reaching out and grabbing Rocco’s shirt before he can go anywhere. “You’re staying right where you are, Rocco,” she tells him. “We might need you.”

Rocco lets out a sigh. “I’m never going to get my homework done,” he mutters.

“Oh, sure you can,” Malina says. “It’s built into your com-bracelet.”

“Really?”

“Zoe insisted.”

“But first, take us to Texas,” Falconess says. “We can watch from the South Branch.”

Rocco nods and holds out a hand. “Fine, I might as well check in, anyway,” he says as they form a chain. He pulls them through the Shadowlands, leading them through the stinking wasteland and stepping out of the shadows behind the South Branch Hall. There are guards in black suits and cowboy boots standing there. Before they can say anything several guns are aimed at them.

“We come in peace?” Rocco says, holding up both hands. “Besides, I’m an unofficial official member. Since when did Halls decide to have guards on the outside of the building?”

“Since Mimic got out,” one of the black suits says, stepping forward with a machine in his hand. He scans each of them before checking the machine and nodding. “They’re clear. Now you can tell us your purpose for being here.”

“Well, this is Falconess and, uh, Falconess Sr.,” Rocco says, nodding to the women behind him. “And this is Malina, AKA Raindrop. I’m Nightstep—and you don’t particularly care, do you?” he says as they just stare at him blandly. “Are you really all military veterans?” he asks curiously.

“The vast majority, yes,” the spokesman of the group agrees. “But that doesn’t answer the quest—” he stops, reaching up and touching an earbud. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” he says. “Let them through,” he tells the others, stepping out of the way. “You should be familiar with this system,” the black suit says, only to pixelate and disappear. The others are gone as well, leaving only a small screen for a hand to be placed on.

“They looked real,” Malina says. “Nico’s been here, hasn’t he?”

“Seems like it,” Rocco says, pressing his hand to the screen. It blinks green and the familiar footprints appear in front of him. “This is definitely Nico’s handiwork.”

“This is… amazingly paranoid,” Angela says as Malina shows her how to have her hand scanned. She, unlike the others, has to answer several questions on the screen. Soon enough, though, they’re stepping through a wall that slides open and looking around. The same black suits they saw outside are standing to the side, watching them. Century heads past the guards and straight for Rocco.

“Hello, son,” he says, holding out a hand. The instant Rocco takes it the older man hauls him into a hug, clapping him on the back. “Good to see you, as always. Hello, Malina, Falconess, Falconess,” he says, shaking hands with each of them after letting go of Rocco. “You’ll understand why we left your drones outside, I believe.”

“We might, but HTV won’t be happy,” Rocco says.

“Don’t worry, HTV South will take over for this part of the show,” Century says. “If you’d follow me, we’ll find a nice comfortable room to watch the show from.” He hesitates. “And I will admit to being a bit disappointed that they chose my territory,” he says quietly.

“Why’s that?” Malina asks.

“Well, sugar, they were following our little deadly darlin’s around like puppies,” Century says, a little grin pulling at his lips. “The three make for quite the show.”

“Deadly Darlin’s? So Aunt Skye finally settled on a name?” Rocco asks. “Or is it a different group?”

“No, it’s Skye and the girls. We’re actually planning on releasing it as a Reality TV show once they go public. According to our HTV they should garner a huge audience. But seeing as we have an escaped convict in the area, well, most of the drones have been dedicated to following him, instead. And while the family bonding is nice, and all—”

“You’ve got a thing for my aunt,” Rocco finishes.

“I wouldn’t go that far—” Century protests.

“Everyone heard about the kiss, Century,” Falconess says with amusement. “I’m surprised—she seems a bit young for you.”

“That was just a celebratory action, darlin’,” he says. “Rocco here saved my life. I was enjoying the fact that I AM alive, still.” He leads them into a large den like room with massive couches in front of a large screen. “How did you like the new security system?” he asks.

“I think you’re trying to change the subject,” Angela says, her gaze sharp. “You always did like the sweet and innocent types, Charles.”

“You know each other?” Rocco asks blankly.

“Son, in our business you wind up running into everyone in the game sooner or later,” Century says. “Angela here was a member of the South Branch when I was first starting up—for all of a week or two, at least.”

“I was overseeing a new branch opening,” Angela says. “Now enough talk, turn the television on.”

“Did you ever, um, hit on her?” Rocco asks Century silently, nodding in Angela’s direction.

“Son, does she strike you as the sweet and innocent type?” Century says, not bothering to be silent.

“I think you’re both very sweet,” Malina says to the Falconess pair.

“Thank you, Malina,” Falconess says with a little smile.

The others start laughing, not even noticing as Rocco jerks slightly, a strange expression on his face. He looks around for a moment, frowning with confusion. After a moment he looks back to Century, the confusion still pasted firmly on his face. It’s always hard to tell if there’s an unwanted cape in the area when you’re right next to a very powerful S-class.

 

***

 

Mimic sits on the nearest roof of the small suburban neighborhood, watching the two villains corner the low-class hero. Not that they need both of them, he thinks as Deathblow lifts the man up by the throat. Either one of them could have the poor C-class cape cowering on the ground crying for his mommy. This has been one of the most entertaining weeks, EVER, he thinks with glee as they drag the man into the house. He takes to the air, landing in the backyard of the cape’s house, moving close enough to hear their discussion inside.

“He’s big enough to get that channel, right?” he hears Deathblow ask.

“How should I know? You just went after the first guy changing out of a mask,” Massteria says before yelping. “Fine! I’ll check, I’ll check,” he says. “Or we could just turn his television on,” he mutters a second later.

“Oh, yeah, right,” Deathblow says. There’s the click of a television being turned on, followed by a mishmash of sounds as the channels are flipped. “This it?” he asks.

“That’s it.”

“There’s Boombastic,” Deathblow says. “What’s that in the background?” he asks. “Looks pretty warm there…”

“This is footage from our sister station, South HTV,” Mimic hears a woman say. “We’re still following the escaped Cape Cell convict, Bombastic, as he travels with his granddaughter. We are now taking calls.”

“Call them,” Deathblow says.

“Are you kidding? What if they—”

“Do you want to live to find out what they do?” Deathblow demands. “CALL THEM.”

“You’re a real jerk, you know that?” Massteria complains. “Where the hell does this guy keep his phone—oh no, I am NOT going there—”

“Just get the phone already!”

Mimic almost laughs as he hears Massteria grumble and the sounds of spandex being tugged on. Oh, this is too rich. He only wishes he could see it for himself. “Fine, got it. What’s the number?” Massteria says. Deathblow rattles off some numbers. Massteria makes a strange series of noises before dialing and speaking. “Yeah, hi, I’m Torpedo from Central Branch—well, the reserves,” he says, in a completely different voice. “I was just wondering, do you know WHERE in South Branch this is?”

“Well, Torpedo, we last marked them in Texas, but they are on the move. We’ll try to keep everyone up-to-date, but at the moment, there’s no call for his capture.”

“Thanks,” Massteria says, hanging up. “There. We’re heading for Texas.”

“You got any idea how big Texas is?” Deathblow asks.

“We’re about to find out, now aren’t we?”

Mimic jumps into the air, racing away before the two can catch sight of him. Texas, huh? Sounds interesting!

 

CHAPTER FIVE

The amusement park looms ahead of us, but a sea of people blocks the way. I look up at Grandpa, wondering if he feels comfortable in such a large crowd. Would one of the norms recognize him? I mean, it's been almost forty years since he was out in public, right? So I highly doubt all these parents and kids have even heard of him, I know I hadn't. But he's pretty powerful, so maybe he was well known before he got tossed into the cells. I hope nobody over forty is out here...

"So, do we have enough money to get in?" I ask after a long moment. He looks around, frowning slightly as he thinks it over, and then an evil little grin pulls at his lips.

"No," he says, "but I've got an idea." He tugs me to the side of the crowd, where the wall blocks people from entering, and holds out a hand. "I want you to go in there and bring back some sort of mask," he tells me. "Whatever one you think will pass me off as entertainment."

"You--" I say. "They wouldn't let you in that easily!" I protest.

"Sure they would. If I take off the glasses, it's pretty obvious."

"Why don't we BOTH jump the wall, I mean, you can FLY," I say dryly.

"Where's the fun in that?" he asks. When I just stare at him and tap my foot he shrugs. "Fine, we'll go in from the back. Do they ever check your tickets when you're inside?"

"They didn't the last time I came," I tell him. I look at the crowd as we casually walk away from the main entrance. A little while later we're at the back of the park.

We're going to get caught, I just know it. It's actually more thrilling to do this when I do--I mean, it's one thing to steal, it's another to... break and enter. Okay, not breaking. I don't think we plan on breaking anything--"We're not going to break anything, are we?" I ask Grandpa.

"What?" he asks blankly.

"I mean, this will just be entering, right? Not BREAKING and entering."

He laughs at me. Rude! "Keliah, they paid millions to keep me INSIDE one of their facilities. A few bucks more isn't going to break the bank--and technically I'm just returning, in a way, right?"

No, not really, but I sort of like how it sounds. "How about this?" he goes on, still standing there with a hand held out to help me up, "Once you become big and famous you come down here and do a gig, for free? You can feel like this is just an I.O.U."

I blink. That DOES feel better--not that I'm worried about breaking and entering! I'm going to be a super villain! Super villains make a living off of breaking and entering!

"I'm good," I say, stepping into his hand and letting him throw me into the air. I land on the top of the wall, crouching there and looking over the park--you know, for guards and people. "And if I DO come back and do some sort of show, well, it's just to give myself a bigger name!" I declare boldly as he lands on the wall next to me. I jump into the park.

There are people back here, I realize belatedly. Most of them are too busy to notice us, since they're either chasing little kids or looking at maps, but there's a little boy about seven with a cotton candy on a stick. He's staring right at us with his mouth dropped open. I point at him for Grandpa to notice.

"Hello, little boy," Grandpa says, heading straight for him. I grab at his sleeve, but he doesn't even seem to notice. He crouches down in front of the kid and pulls his glasses down. "You didn't see anything, got it?" he says almost silently.

BOOK: Super Villain Grandpa (Cape High Series Book 15)
6.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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