The Blue Ranger, Chapter Six

 Chapter Six:

Aquila Shumway

Aquila Shumway woke the next morning in a small hollow under a tree in the middle of a forest. His body felt tired and heavy, a sensation he had not truly felt in at least two years. The pain in his back and hand had subsided to a dull aching. That was another sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. He looked at his hand. It was red and raw but clearly healing. He hated to think what that stuff would have done to a normal human like Ban.

Memories of the night before flooded his mind. The base in flames. The Sun Mask. Ban wearing the samurai’s armor. Tammy on the helicopter, grasping his hand as he looked into her eyes one final time. Aquila ran his hands through his hair, his chest heavy and his heart aching. It had all been his fault, just like every time before. Why hadn’t he just gotten himself out sooner?

Aquila gritted his teeth. He clenched the roots surrounding him and pulled himself out. He appeared to be on a heavily wooded mountainside. Aquila had run for hours the night before, and hadn’t really paid attention to where he was going. Now he wished he had. The air was crisp and humid, with some slight mist creeping between the trees. There wasn’t anything like that near Corinth, he knew that for sure.

He climbed up to a small rocky outcropping to get his bearings. Everywhere he looked, he saw nothing but trees for miles, except for a small city to the South, tucked up against the edge of a large lake.

Was that Briarwood? he thought. It looked like it. But it couldn’t be. Briarwood was halfway across the continent from Corinth. There was no way he could have run that far overnight.

Aquila returned to the small hollow and gathered up his bag and cowboy hat, both of which had survived the night, unlike the guitar he’d had to leave behind. He pulled out a clean shirt so he wasn’t walking around shirtless with a bright red back, and took off running toward the city.

A few minutes later, he slowed to a normal pace as he passed a sign that read “Welcome to Briarwood.”

So he actually had crossed that much distance in a night, he thought to himself. Another minute or two later, he walked into a small diner connected to an inn. A younger blonde woman smiled at him as he came in. “Welcome to Clare’s,” she said. “How can I help you?”

“I wanted to know if I could get a room for the night,” Aquila said, stepping up to the counter. “And some food.”

“Of course,” the young woman said. “Why don’t you look over this menu while I get you checked in. How long will you be staying?”

“Just the one night,” Aquila said.

“Gotcha. Alright, we’ll put you up in Room 42.”

Aquila flipped through the menu for a second. “Let’s do biscuits and gravy,” he said, finding the first thing that look good. “Is it possible to have that brought up to the room?”

“Of course,” the girl said, her smile never changing. “We’ll have it up to you in about fifteen minutes.” She handed over a key, and Aquila paid with the stash of cash he kept in his bag.

“Thank you,” he said. “Is there a computer?”

“Of course. All of our rooms come with one. The wifi password’s on your keycard. Will that be all, sir?”

“Yes, thank you,” Aquila said, reaching up to tip his hat before remembering he wasn’t wearing one.

Aquila quickly found his room and shut the door tightly. He dumped his bag on one of the beds and crossed to the small computer. He booted it up, logging in and bringing up a private chat server only he and one other person had access to. A bright yellow message waited for him, from someone simply named “JOKER.”

I GOT THE FLOWERS, it started, using a phrase they used to signify they weren’t being forced to send the message. ARE YOU ALRIGHT? I’VE BEEN HEARING TERRIBLE RUMORS ABOUT CORINTH ALL MORNING.

I’M FINE, he said, writing under the name “RIDER.”

A few seconds later, JOKER wrote back. HAVE WE BEEN COMPROMISED?

NO. I GOT AWAY SAFELY, AND YOUR LOCATION IS NOT KNOWN.

The chat was silent for a few seconds. Then, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO NOW? I CAN HAVE YOUR IDENTITY CHANGED AGAIN. GET YOU SET UP AT A NEW BASE, IF YOU WANT.

Aquila sat back, staring at the message for a while. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his family. He wanted to be Sean Cassidy, to be a normal soldier, who wasn’t on the run. He wanted to ask out Tammy Hayes and not have to worry about avoiding personal connections. But he couldn’t have any of that.

Aquila got up and crossed to the mirror outside the bathroom, pulling off his shirt and looking at his back. Much like his hand, it was red and raw, but healing. He turned on the sink and washed both his back and his hand with cold water, then pulled some ointment out of his bag and rubbed it on. It wasn’t much, but it gave him a little bit of relief.

He sat down on the bed and pulled on a fresh set of clothing, making himself look normal again. Well, as normal as he could be.

A wave of loneliness washed over Aquila as he sat alone in the tiny room. He set his bag on the floor and laid back to stare at the ceiling, remembering a time before all this, back when he was just Sean Cassidy, an ordinary recruit from Texas, a farmboy who had signed up right out of high school, eager for action and adventure. He remembered his first assignment at a small base out in Reefside under his training commander, Rita Repellato. Or Rita Repulsive, as he and the other recruits had taken to calling her. She had been a harsh, cruel trainer, who liked to bully and push around those who were struggling. She was also Black Cross, as Aquila now knew. The Witch Mask of all things. Honestly, it should have been obvious in retrospect.

He remembered the day Rita Repulsive had pulled him aside, telling him about a secret EAGLE project he’d been selected for, a project hoping to create genetically engineered super soldiers to fight the Black Cross. He’d been naive and eager for excitement back then, so he’d signed up without hesitation.

Soon he was introduced to Doctor Daniel Kuchar, the man behind the super soldier serum currently running through his veins. Doctor Kuchar was a big man, with a bigger mustache and an even bigger smile underneath that lit up every single room he entered. He and Aquila had become fast friends, sharing an interest in the guitar, which Aquila was happy to play for him while they worked together.

“Here it is,” he remembered the doctor telling him one day, holding up a tiny vial of what looked like silvery liquid. “This is what’s going to make you a super soldier.”

Aquila squinted at it. “What is it exactly?”

The doctor grinned, shaking up the vial so that Aquila could see tiny little particles moving around inside. “These are nanites. Tiny little microscopic pieces of technology that we will inject directly into your bloodstream. From there they will travel throughout your entire body, converting everything they touch into a cybernetic mesh of organic material and technology.”

Aquila looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “That sounds painful,” he said.

Doctor Kuchar smiled behind his mustache. “It will be,” he said. “Very painful. But worth it.” He pulled up diagrams on the screen beside him, showing a figure punching with incredible strength, running at inhuman speeds, and deflecting blows that would have killed a lesser man.

“With this serum, you will become the hope of EAGLE,” he said. “We’ll be able to take down the Black Cross and put an end to this bloody war.”

Aquila stared at the diagrams, thinking of the terrible bombings he had witnessed ever since this war had begun. For that alone, he thought, it was worth it. “Let’s do it,” he said.

Two days later, Aquila found himself strapped to a hospital bed, tied down so he wouldn’t hurt himself during the procedure. Doctor Kuchar sat beside him, holding a large syringe filled with the silvery nanites, as Rita Repulsive and a few other supervisors stood around watching. “Are you sure you’re up for this, my boy?” the doctor asked. “I can’t stress enough how much this will hurt.”

“I’m ready,” Aquila said, keeping his eyes on the light above him and definitely not on the needle. “Let’s do it.”

Doctor Kuchar nodded, taking a deep breath and stabbing the syringe into the crook of his elbow. The pain was instantaneous. Aquila clamped down on the piece of rubber the doctor inserted into his mouth, his wrist straining against the strap holding him down. Stabbing pain forced its way up his arm, making everything it passed scream out in pain. A second later, the nanites reached his heart and then everything went black.

A full day later, Aquila came to, the intense pain subsiding and his head finally clearing. He looked around at the empty room, everything feeling strange and heavy. He raised his hand. It looked the same, but now it felt like a vice. He clenched it, feeling incredible strength in his grip.

The door opened and Doctor Kuchar stepped inside. “Ah, You’re awake,” he said, his face lighting up with relief. He hurried over to him. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“I feel great,” Aquila said, sitting up and staring at his hand. “Did it work.”

Doctor Kuchar checked over his vitals and the computer he was hooked up to. His smile became as bright as it always was. “You better believe it did.”

After that, they started training. The formula worked better than they could have hoped for, and Aquila enjoyed the newfound abilities at his disposal. He started to feel excited at the prospect of leading an army of his fellows, all equipped with this power, to take down the Black Cross once and for all.

A few nights later, however, Aquila found himself awoken in the middle of the night by Doctor Kuchar.

“Sean, wake up,” he whispered.

“What’s going on?” Aquila asked. The lights were out and he could only just barely make out Doctor Kuchar’s large shape.

“Keep quiet for now,” the doctor said. “We don’t want them to hear us.”

“Who’s them,” Aquila said, still half-asleep.

“The people we’re working for.” The doctor looked around as he spoke, his eyes wide. “They’re not EAGLE. They’re the Black Cross.”

“What?” Aquila sat, sitting up quickly.

Doctor Kuchar quickly shushed him. “Keep it down,” he said. “We’ve got to get out of here, now.”

“How do you know?” Aquila asked as the doctor undid the straps tying him to the bed.

“I’ve been putting it together over the last few days. I didn’t want to act until I knew for sure. But now I do.” He undid the final strap. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Doctor Kuchar turned just as the light flipped on and a figure dressed in a Halloween store witch’s mask, complete with a cloak and staff stood in the doorway. “Going somewhere?” she asked. Aquila would recognize that voice anywhere. Rita Repulsive.

Rita lowered her staff and several secret doors opened all around the room, dozens of Black Cross soldiers pouring into the room. “Seems you’ve discovered our little secret here,” she said. She gestured to her soldiers. “Put our friends here back to bed, if you please.”

The soldiers rushed in on Aquila and the doctor without giving them a second to react. Acting purely on instinct, Aquila threw up his hands and pushed back against the horde. To his surprise, they flew back easily, some hitting the wall behind them. Aquila paused for only a second to stare at his hands before grabbing Doctor Kuchar, hoisting him onto his back, and charging straight through the crowd toward the Witch Mask. She raised her staff to defend herself, but he barreled straight into her and threw her like a rag doll through the air. Leaving her slumped on the ground, he charged down the hall to the high security door nearby. Thrusting his shoulder forward, he slammed into the door at full force, crumpling it like it was nothing and sending it flying out into the night.

A knock at the door woke him from his thoughts. Aquila sat up, quickly shutting off the computer’s monitor. “Who is it?” he called out.

“Room service.”

Aquila crept to the door and peeked out, seeing the blonde woman from the diner smiling and holding a tray of biscuits and gravy. Breathing a sigh of relief, he opened the door and accepted the meal. The glorious smell of the rich sausage gravy filled his nose, making his mouth water. “Thank you,” he said, handing her a generous tip and closing the door.

Aquila set the tray on his bed and switched on the monitor again, seeing Doctor Kuchar’s last message, asking him what he wanted to do. Aquila sat on the bed and dug into his meal, trying his best to ignore that question for now. It didn’t help though, as the second the food entered his mouth, it filled him with a nostalgic feeling and made him yearn for the biscuits his mama would make back home.

Aquila shook his head, trying to think of something else. His mind landed on the meals back at Corinth base. He looked at the time. Right about this time last week, he would have been sitting across the table from Tammy Hayes, sharing a meal with her rather than eating alone as he was now.

Stop it, Sean, he thought to himself.

He stopped chewing for a second. Thinking about Tammy reminded him of the card she’d given him before they’d parted. “Come find me in Silver City,” she’d said. He got up and grabbed his discarded pants from the night before, digging in the pockets and pulling out the small card. “Gon Snack Shop,” it read, directly above an address. Probably a secret EAGLE base entrance, he thought, remembering that Tammy had been a representative for EAGLE high command.

He flipped the card over to see handwritten instructions for the weirdest menu order he’d ever seen. Three large bowls of curry, a cup of coffee, and a bowl of ice cream. Most likely, the secret passphrase to gain access to the secret base.

Aquila felt a strong yearning to follow up on this card. Not just because he wanted to see Tammy again, but also because of something she’d said. “We can help you.”

Help.

What Aquila wouldn’t give to be able to rely on someone else besides just himself and Doctor Kuchar. To be able to know for a fact that he and the doctor were one-hundred-percent safe from the Black Cross and that they wouldn’t have to run anymore. But he knew better than that. He’d blindly trusted he was safe once before, and look at how that turned out.

Another message popped up on the screen. THOUGHT YOU OUGHT TO KNOW, ICARUS MIGHT BE LANDING SOON.

Aquila perked up. Doctor Kuchar had told him a few months back that he’d been looking for a way to remove the enhancements from his body. Aquila didn’t dare believe it could be possible.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO MEET? another message asked.

Aquila crossed to his computer. He hesitated for just a second. WHERE ARE YOU?

SHTF.

Silver Hills. Aquila recognized that code word. The suburbs surrounding Silver City. He glanced at Tammy’s card for a second. Several pieces of a possible plan started to fall into place in his head. If Doctor Kuchar really had found a way to remove the enhancements, he could be regular old Sean Cassidy again. And if Tammy and those she worked for proved true, he could ensure safety for both himself, the doctor, and both of their families.

But did he dare take that chance? He supposed if it turned out to all be a trap, he could simply fight his way out and they’d go on the run again, just like they had so many times before. But if it wasn’t, this could all be over.

Aquila held the card in his hand for a second. He made his decision. He’d go to this shop, find Tammy, and then talk to her alone first. He would proceed from there based on what happened.

CAN YOU ARRANGE TRANSPORT? He wrote. I’M IN BWMF. I THINK I HAVE AN IDEA.

The Blue Ranger, Chapter Five

 Chapter Five:

The Second Attack

Two days later, Tammy Hayes made her way quickly to the soldiers’ barracks, carrying a large envelope in her arms. Inside the envelope, a thick folder was stamped with a big red “APPROVED” stamp, alongside a smaller sealed envelope signed by General Kenpachi himself. Tammy had already checked for Aquila in the mess hall, where everyone else was enjoying their dinner, but he hadn’t shown up.

Tammy reached the barracks door, knocking and gently nudging it open. “Is anyone in here?” she said. Aquila stood in the middle of the room, looking up at her, his bags open on the cot before him, a set of folded clothes in his hands.

Tammy’s eyes narrowed, focusing on the bags and stepping toward him. “Are you going somewhere?” she asked..

“Yeah,” Aquila said, setting the stack of clothes inside and avoiding her eyes. “I’ve been transferred. Just came through today. I’m heading out tonight.”

His voice was rushed, like he was anxious to head out as soon as possible.

Transferred? Tammy thought. “What do you mean, transferred?” she said. “When did this happen?”

Aquila put his head down and didn’t answer. He handed Tammy an official-looking document. “I’ve got the paperwork right here,” he said.

Tammy took it and looked it over several times. It was definitely genuine as far as she could tell, with EAGLE’s seal stamped on it and everything.

Tammy shook her head. “Tonight?” she asked.

Aquila nodded. “That’s right.”

Tammy’s heart picked up its pace. She gripped the files in her arm tighter. “But you can’t go,” she said, more passionately than she meant to.

Aquila paused in the middle of zipping up his back and looked up at her. He smiled sadly for just a second. Tammy turned red and looked down. “I mean,” she said. “Where? Why?”

She looked at the paper again. It didn’t seem to have any location listed on it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Aquila said, slinging the bag over his shoulder and walking past her. “I’m sorry, Miss Hayes.”

Tammy shook her head, following him. “If this is about what happened on the mountain, I don’t care,” she said.

“It’s not about whether you care or not,” Aquila said, still not meeting her gaze. “The Samurai Mask and several soldiers saw what happened, and I have to get out of here now, or else I don’t want to think about what’ll happen to this base because of it.”

“What do you—”

Before she could even finish her question, an explosion rocked the building, throwing both Tammy and Aquila off their feet. Alarms blared and red lights flashed over their heads. “What was that?” Tammy asked.

Aquila scowled, looking in the direction of the blast. “Exactly what I was afraid of.” Together, he and Tammy ran to the door of the barracks and looked out. A tower of flame rose from the direction of the building’s post office, where Tammy had been only minutes before. A bullet whizzed by Tammy’s ear, as familiar black-clad soldiers emerged from the flames. Both she and Aquila tucked back behind the door.

“Run?” he asked, looking at her.

“Run!” she said. They clasped hands and ran out into the hall, barreling down the opposite corridor. They had barely gone a few feet when another explosion blew them in different directions. Tammy hit the wall and slumped to the floor.

“That hurt,” she said, shaking the hit off. She got up and looked around. “Shumway?” she shouted over the flames and debris. The young soldier was nowhere to be seen. Tammy glanced back to see enemy soldiers getting closer. She quickly gathered up her package and started running again. “Shumway?” she shouted, looking around for him. She rounded the corner and ran straight into General Truman.

“General?” she said.

“Miss Hayes?” he shouted back, looking between her and the enemy troops running through the halls. He opened up the door behind him and ushered her inside. “In here, hurry!” he said.

Tammy quickly dove into the room. General Truman followed her in and they both took shelter behind the desk. Tammy took the opportunity to pull her sidearm from its holster and join him in watching both the door and the window.

“How did the Black Cross get in here?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” The general said. “I’m starting to think we definitely have a mole in the base.”

Before he could say anything more, another explosion rocked the building and his office door flew off its hinges. Tammy and the general ducked down to take cover.

“Well, well, well,” said a familiar voice. Tammy peeked up to see the Samurai Mask stepping into the room, flanked by two soldiers. His ruined breastplate seemed to have been repaired over the last two days, but only crudely, thick gray plaster filling in the cracks. “General Gaylyn Truman and Agent Tammy Hayes,” he said, drawing his katana. Unlike the breastplate, this had been restored to its perfect state. “My two favorite targets.”

Tammy and the general looked at each other. The general covertly gestured with his finger toward the back wall. Tammy nodded. She cocked her gun. Covering the general, she rose from behind the desk, firing off two pinpoint shots and dropping both of the Samurai Mask’s guards. Behind her, a secret door opened in the wall. “Through here,” the general shouted. “Hurry!”

Still firing at the samurai, specifically targeting his messy patch job, Tammy ducked into the tunnel and the general followed her, sealing the door up behind him and making sure the secret code was wiped.

“That should give us some time,” he said. “Let’s go.”

The secret door had opened into a small secret passageway used for quick getaways. Only a select few at the base knew of its existence. The general looked back. “They seem to be after us,” he said.

Tammy nodded. She chewed her lip for a second. “I think they might be after Shumway too.”

General Truman looked at her in confusion. “Why would they be after Shumway?” he asked.

“I don’t know, exactly,” Tammy said. She looked around for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell him anything. “When we were up on the mountain during the Black Cross attack two days ago, he may have displayed . . . superhuman abilities.”

“Superhuman abilities?” the general said, reaching the end of the passageway and punching in the secret code to get out. “What do you mean?”

The secret door slid open, revealing a squad of Black Cross soldiers waiting for them, guns drawn. Tammy’s eyes widened. She looked at the general, who swallowed. They both backed up quickly only to find the point of a katana waiting for them.

“I don’t think so,” the Samurai Mask said. He pushed them forward with his sword, edging them out of the building. Truman and Tammy quickly stepped sideways to keep their backs to the brick wall beside them, forcing the Samurai Mask to step out and join his troops. Tammy fingered her pistol. General Truman looked around, scanning their options.

He leaned down close to Tammy. “When I give the signal,” he said. “Run. Find Shumway and get out of here.”

He eyed the samurai, keeping his focus on his katana’s razor-sharp tip.

“What about you?” Tammy asked, keeping her gun pointed at the enemy soldiers surrounding the samurai.

“Don’t worry about it,” the general said. Then, without warning, he suddenly shoved Tammy out away from the building and away from the soldiers. “Run!” he shouted. He turned and charged the soldiers head on.

Tammy stared, openmouthed. Torn for a second, she shook her head and started running. The general fought valiantly through the soldiers, reaching through them and grabbing hold of the straps on the samurai’s armor and holding him fast. He tore open his coat and pulled out a grenade. The samurai’s eyes widened and he fought desperately to pull away. Seconds later, the grenade went off, taking the general and most of the soldiers with it.

Tammy stumbled and tripped when she heard the explosion. She turned to see the building in flames, bodies scattered everywhere. “General?” she shouted, starting to run back.

A part of the building crumbled, flames climbing up the wall. “General!” she shouted again. Tammy’s heart sank and her knees buckled. He was dead.

Something moved among the bodies scattered around the blast. “General?” she asked cautiously. A single figure picked itself up out of the pile of bodies. The Samurai Mask rose, his helmet smoking, his breastplate torn free, leaving only the black padding underneath, still very much alive.

General Truman’s final words ran through Tammy’s head. “Run!”

Tammy took off running. “You’re next, Miss Hayes,” the samurai shouted. She heard his armored feet start clashing against the pavement. She looked back to see him quickly closing the distance between them, surprisingly fast despite his heavy armor. She cocked her gun and fired several shots at him. The padding covering his chest must have been bulletproof, because he simply powered through them, slamming into Tammy at full force, throwing her through the air and across the ground. He stepped up over her just as he had done on the mountain two days earlier.

“Time to die, Miss Hayes.”

He raised his sword into the air. Tammy raised her arm to cover her face. Just like before, the blow never came. Tammy lowered her arm to see Aquila standing between them, gripping the samurai’s blade with his bare hand. His clothes were dirty and torn, but he looked none the worse for wear.

“So,” he said, flashing that slight grin Tammy loved as he looked back and forth between her and the samurai. “I see we’re all back here again.”

He clenched his fist, crumpling the metal blade once again. The samurai pulled hard on the sword, growling at him. “Let go!” he said.

Ignoring him, Aquila turned to face Tammy, offering her a hand up. “Nice to see you alive, Miss Hayes,” he said, tipping his hat. “I thought I lost you for a second there.”

Tammy got back to her feet, relief flooding through her. “I did too,” she said.

“As for you,” Aquila said, turning back to the samurai. He yanked the sword from his hands and threw it away. “I thought you had learned your lesson the first time.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the Samurai Mask said, glaring at him. “I did. I brought a new friend along to play this time.”

A blast of sudden heat flashed by Tammy’s cheek and struck Aquila square in the back. He stumbled forward, his eyes slowly growing wider and his muscles tensing. He fell to his knees as his back burst into noxious green flames.

“Shumway?” Tammy said.

Aquila didn’t answer, his fists clenching on the ground, his face rigid with pain. Tammy looked at his back, now covered in sticky green substance that boiled and hissed on his skin. Looking closer, she recognized it as an experimental incendiary substance developed years before by EAGLE, eventually scrapped because the pain it inflicted on an ordinary human was deemed too cruel.

A cold laugh broke through the night. Aquila and Tammy both turned to see a tall figure step out of the shadows toward them. He wore what looked like an African tribal mask shaped to look like the sun and held a large staff carved at the top to look like a flame. A bright red jewel glowed at the center.

“Well,” the figure said, sounding mildly amused by Aquila’s suffering. “And least we know you can still feel pain, eh, soldier boy?”

Aquila clenched his teeth, turning to face the newcomer and stumbling to his feet, leaning on Tammy for support. Tammy was careful to avoid touching the substance on his back. “Who are you?” he asked.

The figure laughed, tilting his head to look him over. “Glad you asked,” he said, bowing. “I am the Star of Africa, and one of the fuhrer’s most trusted confidants. I am the Sun Mask. It is a pleasure to meet you, Aquila Shumway, or should I say, Sean Cassidy.”

Aquila’s eyes went wide. Tammy looked up at him in confusion.

“You’ve given the fuhrer a lot of trouble, my friend,” the Sun Mask carried on. “He would really like you and the assets you possess back under his control.” He twirled his staff so that its gem glinted. “And I am here to oblige him.”

A large vein on Aquila’s forehead looked like it was about to burst from the pain. He glared at the Sun Mask, his eyes filled with determination. Tammy studied him, trying to piece together what was going on. For the moment though, he needed her held. She steeled herself and placed herself in front of him. “You’ll get him over my dead body,” she said, holding her gun at the ready.

The Sun Mask and the Samurai Mask both looked at each other. The Samurai Mask started laughed and shook his head. “Well, if you insist,” the Sun Mask said. He held up his staff and the gem flared brightly. Aquila moved at lightning speed, despite the pain, pushing Tammy out of the way and charging the Sun Mask before he could fire. An explosion of intense heat struck the ground just behind where Tammy had been standing. Aquila grabbed the staff, balling up his fist and punching the Sun Mask square in the gut with enough force to kill a lesser man. The Sun Mask however merely stumbled.

“Now that’s what I like to see,” the Sun Mask said, clutching his gut and charging at Aquila. The pair traded blows, Aquila hampered by the green fire etching its way across his back. The Sun Mask held his own, taking every blow Aquila dished out.

Tammy stepped back as they fought. Sudden movement drew her attention to the left. The Samurai Mask had snuck around their fight, making a beeline for his dropped sword.

Tammy took aim and shot the sword, sending it skittering away down the pavement. “I don’t think so,” she said.

The samurai looked up at her and scowled with his eyes. “I’ve had just about enough of you, Miss Hayes,” he said. He charged toward her. Tammy took aim, this time not aiming for his padded torso, instead striking true at one of the straps holding his helmet and mask in place. She let him slam into her, knocking her to the ground, gripping her hands instead around the edges of his helmet and tearing it away to get a look at the man underneath.

“Ban!”

David Ban looked up at her, his normally friendly face twisted into a cruel sneer as he held her down.

“Surprised, Miss Hayes?” he said.

Tammy stared at him, trying to process this sudden revelation while struggling to get out of her current predicament. He was surprisingly strong for his smaller frame. Nearby, Aquila still fought hard against the Sun Mask. No matter what he threw at him, the Sun Mask took it in stride even though any other opponent would have collapsed by now. All the while, the intense pain in his back wouldn’t let up and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. He glanced sideways to see Tammy being held down by David Ban wearing what was left of the samurai’s armor.

He looked one last time at the Sun Mask and back at Tammy and Ban. With one last ditch effort, he threw a kick at the Sun Mask’s stomach, at least throwing him back a little ways so he could break away and run to Tammy. He swiped one hand through the substance on his back, ran up, and smeared it all over Ban’s exposed face. Ban let out a wail of pain as the green substance started to steam and boil across his skin, letting Tammy go and falling backwards. Aquila extended his clean hand to Tammy and pulled her up.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” he said, sweat pouring down his forehead. Tammy nodded and both took off running as fast as they could.

The Sun Mask remained where he stood, watching them run off with calm indifference. His work here was done for the moment. He tenderly felt the spots where Aquila had struck him. It took everything he had in him to not cry out from the pain. Amazing, he thought. What he could do with that kind of power.

“What are you doing?” Ban demanded, crawling over to him. His face was already heavily disfigured, the skin melting off and one eye sealed shut. He clenched his teeth and struggled to his feet. “They’re getting away. We’ve got to go after them.”

The Sun Mask ignored him, feeling another couple of spots.

Ban gritted his teeth, scowling at being ignored. “Hey!” he shouted, grabbing the Sun Mask’s shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me? They’re getting away!”

The Sun Mask looked over at him, as if just barely registering he was there. “So sorry,” he said genially. “I wasn’t paying attention. Who were you again?”

Ban’s one good eye looked around wildly. “What?” he said. He held up his gauntleted hand. “You know who I am. I am the Samurai Mask.”

The Sun Mask tilted his head. “You used to be the Samurai Mask? Really?”

Ban breathed in and out, trying his best to keep it together. “I am still the Samurai Mask,” he said.

The Sun Mask leaned toward him, close enough to smell the incendiary fumes coming off his face. “No, you’re not,” he said.

Ban shook his head, slight fear creeping into his expression. “What?” he asked.

The Sun Mask raised his staff. “You gave up the identity of the Samurai Mask the moment you let that woman remove your mask. Now, you are nothing to us. You are less than even the dust of the Earth.”

His staff’s gem glimmered brightly. “You are relieved of your command, Samurai Mask.”

David Ban turned and ran as fast as he could. A blaze of fiery heat ripped from the head of the Sun Mask’s staff, consuming the former samurai in 2000-degree flames. He let out one final scream before crumbling to ash and glowing-hot pieces of cast iron.

Meanwhile, Tammy and Aquila ran hand in hand across the base. More soldiers ran around them, heading for the live helicopters waiting for them at the far end. The battle was long since over. The base had fallen and EAGLE was now in full retreat.

“They let us go?” Tammy said, looking back.

Aquila looked back, his jaw tight, his other hand clenched tightly as steam poured from it. His back was red and raw, but the incendiary seemed to have burned itself out for the most part. He didn’t seem to be in quite as much pain as before. “That means they probably have something else up their sleeve,” he said. He shook his head. “I should have gotten out of here two days ago,” he muttered to himself. He looked around at all the damage. “And now this base is destroyed and General Truman’s dead.”

“It’s not your fault,” Tammy said.

Aquila scowled and looked away. “Yes it is.” He looked toward the nearest helicopter. “Come on,” he said.

They hurried over to it, and Aquila helped Tammy climb on board. When Tammy turned around to help him up, he stepped back, looking up at her with sad blue eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I have to go, Miss Hayes,” he said. “They’re after me. You’ll all have a better chance of getting away safely if I’m not with you.”

“We can protect you,” Tammy said. “The people I work for. Whatever all this is, we can take care of it.”

Aquila closed his eyes and shook his head, reaching out and grasping her hand for a moment. “Goodbye, Tammy,” he said, calling her by her first name for the first time. He let go and started to move away.

“Wait!” she said. Aquila stopped for a second. Tammy reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small card. “Take this. When all this is over, and you’ve gotten away, come find me in Silver City. This card will tell you what to do.”

Aquila shook his head. “Tammy, I can’t—”

“Just take it,” Tammy said, forcing it into his hand. “You can use it or not, but at least you’ll have the option.”

Aquila held the card for a second before nodding and tucking it into his pocket. “Good luck, Tammy,” he said.

“Good luck, Aquila.”

Another explosion rocked the building and the nearby door blew open, Black Cross soldiers spilling out. “Time to go,” Aquila said. He turned to the enemy soldiers, waving his hat around to make sure he was seen before taking off into the dark. Bullets dinged off the side of the chopper as it started to lift into the air. Tammy tucked herself inside and found a seat as the flaming base fell away below her.

The Blue Ranger, Chapter Four

 Chapter Four:

The Sun Mask

Hundreds of miles from Corinth, on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, was the African country of Ghana, home to one of the largest Black Cross bases on the African continent. The base stood on the outskirts of Accra, Ghana’s capital city and a major port overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. From a distance, the base didn’t look like anything special, just one of the many skyscrapers that dotted the landscape. A newer building, with windows designed specifically to reflect the sun and glow brightly when hit just right.

From the street level, it was just an ordinary office building. An unmasked receptionist sat in the lobby, welcoming any visitors who happened to step inside, a number of Black Cross-controlled companies hosting their headquarters there. Deep inside the building, however, behind secret doors and high security passageways, legions of masked soldiers trained night and day under the strict command of one of the most feared and respected Masks in the fuhrer’s army: The Sun Mask.

On the building’s very top floor, hundreds of soldiers filled a large gym, surrounded by the Sun Mask’s top five soldiers, watching as they practiced their daily drills. Even above them, the Sun Mask stood alone in a small observation room just for him, designed so that he could turn one way to watch them train, and turn around to look out over the city at the same time. The ceiling was entirely made of glass, the bright sun shining down upon him.

The Sun Mask watched his troops below him with eyes like a hawk. The window through which he watched them had been blacked-out from their perspective, so he could watch them unobserved, like clouds covering the sun during a storm.

As they trained, a soldier in the very middle of the group stumbled. The Sun Mask scowled, his eyes narrowing. He pressed a button on the table nearby.

“Soldier 9425,” he said.

One of his top five, a man in a rainbow-colored mask stepped forward and pounded his chest. “Yes, sir,” he said. The Rainbow Mask turned and marched toward the soldier that had slipped up. The Sun Mask turned away, unconcerned.

He looked at his face in the small mirror he kept there. A weak, imperfect human face, the face of the life he had abandoned the day he joined the Black Cross. His mask sat on the table beside him, patterned after the ancient ceremonial masks of his ancestors and designed to look like the sun itself. A slight crack had formed in one corner, and he had spent the morning repairing it. He could brook no imperfection in his appearance.

A knock sounded at the door. “Just a minute,” he said. He checked over the repaired crack one more time, ensuring his mask was in pristine condition once again. He slipped it back over his head once again and secured it.

“Send them in,” he said.

The door buzzed open and the soldier that had stumbled was shoved forcefully into the room, tumbling to the floor. They trembled, kneeling before him. “Please forgive me, Sun Mask,” the soldier said.

Sun Mask stood over the soldier, positioning himself so that the sun would be right behind his head if the soldier looked up. “Soldier 9425, is it?” he asked.

The soldier shook and nodded.

“Do you know the meaning behind this mask I wear, 9425?” he asked.

The soldier glanced up, covering their face with their hands just as the Sun Mask had wanted them to. “I don’t know, sir.”

The Sun Mask leaned down closer, so the soldier could take in all the fine details. “It represents Mawu, goddess of the sun and creator of all life. Do you know her story?”

The soldier cautiously shook their head.

“No?” the Sun Mask said. “Well, let me tell it to you then.”

He stood and gestured to the sun above. “Mawu was the goddess of the sun. She ruled over all the world with her husband Lisa, for all life had been created by her. Then, one day, a foolish mortal, the monkey Awe, got it into his head that he could do better than her, that he could be a better ruler and creator than she.

“So, he decided to challenge her, to prove he could be the better god. He climbed up to heaven and challenged her to a creation battle. Mawu, being the benevolent ruler that she is, accepted his challenge. Now, Awe’s creations were impressive to be sure, but only Mawu’s creations came to life. Awe’s creations remained mere dolls. Do you know why Awe failed, Soldier 9425?”

The soldier shook their head. “I don’t know, sir.”

“He believed himself more than he truly was,” he said. “He believed himself a god, when he was nothing more than a pretender. He didn’t understand that only Mawu could give the breath of life, and that she could take it away just as easily. As punishment for his hubris, she fed him the seed of death, and he died, like the weak fragile mortal he was.”

The Sun Mask grabbed the top of the soldier’s mask, pulling it up until it was almost over their chin, revealing the skin of their neck. “Do you know why we wear these masks, 9425?” he asked. “When we put on these masks, we raised ourselves above the imperfect human masses down there in the world below. We made ourselves as one with the gods. So, tell me, 9425, that incident that occurred down there, was that the actions of a god, or simply a mere pretender, like Awe?”

The soldier trembled, trying desperately to not let the mask slip up over their chin and reveal their face, but not daring to raise their hand to pull it back down. “A pretender, sir,” they answered.

He let go of their mask. “Give me your hand.”

Shaking, the soldier held out their right hand and the Sun Mask took it. He found the glove’s seam, peeling it off to reveal the soldier’s bare human hand. The soldier tried to pull away but the Sun Mask held tight. He looked over the hand. Light-skinned, so possibly white, or maybe East Asian. One of the lighter ends of the spectrum. That was all the information about the soldier’s human identity the Sun Mask wished to know for now.

“Without our masks, we are nothing,” the Sun Mask said, looking the soldier in the eye. “Stripped of our godhood and reduced to the mere mortals we once were. Do you want that?”

The soldier shook their head.

“I thought not. I will not remove your mask today, 9425, but I will leave you a reminder of the importance of casting away our human imperfections.”

He reached out and picked up the large staff leaning against the table. The top was shaped like a fiery sun with a bright red gem in the center. 9425 pulled back desperately, but the Sun Mask held on tightly. He held his staff over the soldier’s hand, lining it up with the sun. He pressed a secret switch and the staff shot a blast of intense fire from its gem, burning the skin right off the hand in a matter of seconds. The soldier screamed and pulled desperately, but the Sun Mask refused to let go.

He let it keep burning for a few more seconds before someone knocked at the door. He shut off his staff and let the soldier go. The soldier crumpled to the floor, cradling their ruined hand against their chest. “Enter,” the Sun Mask said.

The door opened and another soldier stepped inside, bowing immediately. “Sorry to disturb you, sir,” he said.

The Sun Mask stood, positioning himself once again to line up with the sun. “You should not be disturbing me without invitation,” he said, holding his staff up in a warning gesture. “I assume you have a good reason.”

“I do,” the soldier said, keeping his head low. “We’ve received a message, sir. From Corinth.  The fuhrer is on his way here. He’s in his airship now. They said he’ll be here within a few hours.”

The Sun Mask’s eyes widened. “The fuhrer?” he asked. “Here? Are you certain?”

The soldier looked up, squinting in the sun’s glare. The Sun Mask smiled slightly behind his mask. “Yes, sir,” the soldier said. “He said he had urgent business. He asked to speak with you by name specifically when he arrived.”

The room was silent as the Sun Mask considered his words, except for the hushed moans and sobs coming from the injured soldier on the floor.

“Did they give any further reason for the fuhrer’s arrival?” the Sun Mask asked.

“No, sir. They said it was classified, level nine. They said the fuhrer would tell you more when he arrived.”

“I see. Thank you for delivering this message. You may return to your post. Tell them I will follow shortly.” He glanced at Soldier 9425 at his feet. “And send in a medical crew to tend to this miserable wretch.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier said, pounding his chest. He turned and left the room.

The Sun Mask looked down at Soldier 9425 for only a moment before stepping over them and pressing the button on his desk again. “Relieve the troops,” he said. “The fuhrer is on his way. We must prepare.”

One of his top five, this one dressed as a swordsman, stepped forward and saluted. “Yes, sir,” he said.

The Sun Mask removed his finger. He turned and stepped over the soldier once again to look out the opposite window at the city and port below.

Several hours later, every soldier stood at attention in the base’s large hangar, as motionless as statues, even the one in the very back with a heavily bandaged right hand. The Sun Mask and his top five stood at their head. A dark, batlike shape sped toward them from the western horizon, over Accra’s suburbs. In a matter of seconds, the airship hung directly overhead as the hangar’s ceiling cracked open, wide enough to let it through. The ship descended, blowing wind everywhere as its landing gear extended and the ship settled itself on the tarmac.

A door on one side opened and the fuhrer stepped out. He looked just as the Sun Mask remembered him, his entire body shrouded in a white robe, his face entirely concealed. The fuhrer stepped forward, and the Sun Mask bowed, his soldiers following his lead.

“Rise, my friend,” the fuhrer’s gentle voice said, suddenly at the Sun Mask’s side.

“Yes, my lord,” the Sun Mask said, standing and facing the fuhrer.

The fuhrer looked him over for a second or two. The Sun Mask held himself proudly. “You are looking well, my friend,” the fuhrer said. “It has been too long.”

“Yes it has.”

Very few in their organization had the privilege of being called “friend” by the fuhrer, and it was a privilege the Sun Mask greatly enjoyed. He turned to his troops, still kneeling. “Attention!” he shouted.

As one, the soldiers got back to their feet. “We have worked tirelessly to prepare the base for your arrival,” the Sun Mask reported.

“I can see that,” the fuhrer said, looking around at the soldiers. He swept his hand dismissively. “Send them all away. I wish to speak with you and you alone.”

“Yes, sir,” the Sun Mask nodded. He turned to his troops. “You heard him. Get back to duties. Immediately.”

The hangar was a flurry of activity as the soldiers flooded out of the room as quickly as they possibly could without incurring his wrath. Once they were gone, the Sun Mask gestured toward the nearby door. “Your sanctum is right through here, my lord,” he said.

“Lead the way,” the fuhrer said.

The Sun Mask led the fuhrer through the door, down a long corridor, and through a grand door just like the door back at the Corinth base. The room matched the fuhrer’s sanctums in other bases, completely dark except for an altar illuminated at the far end.

“Now,” the Sun Mask said, once he had secured the door. “What is this visit all about, my lord?”

The fuhrer swept up to his altar, running his sleeve along its surface. “I suppose I’ve kept you waiting long enough,” he said, looking up at the Sun Mask. “I spent the last few days at our base outside of Corinth, overseeing an attack on the EAGLE base there, to be led by the Samurai Mask. The raid failed. Unfortunately.”

The Sun Mask crossed his arms. “As is to be expected under the Samurai Mask’s leadership,” he scoffed.

“But it was not a total loss.” The fuhrer crossed to him and pulled a small photograph from his sleeve and held it out to him. The Sun Mask took it and looked it over. It seemed to be a standard-issue military photograph of a young EAGLE soldier with long blonde hair and a cowboy hat.

“Seems a little scrawny,” he said. “What’s so special about him?”

“He punched a hole straight through three inches of cast iron.”

The Sun Mask snickered. “A piece of the Samurai Mask, I assume.”

The fuhrer nodded. “And he blocked said mask’s katana, with his bare arm.”

The Sun Mask looked up. Now that was impressive. He’d seen that katana in action several times before himself. “Sounds like a bit more than your average EAGLE soldier.”

“He is,” the fuhrer said. “He is so much more.”

The Sun Mask flipped the soldier’s photo between his fingers. “I’m listening.”

Although he couldn’t see the fuhrer’s face under his hood, the fuhrer seemed to almost smile. “I’m sure you know, as we’ve discussed this before, that part of our operations over the years have been spent seeking out methods to create an army of super soldiers. I’m sure you're at least aware of the results of our most recent lead on that front.”

“The red superhero who took out the Golden Mask?”

The fuhrer nodded. “The very same, unfortunately.” He moved around behind his altar. “That is the most notable one, for sure, but not the only one we’ve pursued. Most ultimately came to nothing, except for one.

“One of our moles within EAGLE discovered a brilliant scientist who had developed a way to convert normal human beings into cybernetic super-soldiers by injecting nanites directly into their bloods. We tried to replicate the process ourselves, but it never saw the same results, so we elected instead to enlist him. Our mole approached him, convincing him he worked for EAGLE, and setting him to work on completing the project.

“Experiments began right away, the scientist happily unaware of who he was truly working for. That young man there,” he gestured to the photograph in the Sun Mask’s fingers, “was the first candidate for the procedure. Everything went well, the tests proved fruitful, and he became the world’s first cyborg super-soldier. And then everything went wrong.”

“Let me guess,” the Sun Mask said, laying the soldier’s photo down on the altar. “They figured out who they were working for.”

The fuhrer nodded. “It seems that way,” he said. “Before we could get him to perform the procedure on any of our own, now that the procedure had proved a success, the scientist and the young soldier broke out of the lab in the middle of the night and went into hiding. We pursued them for many months, but they evaded us at every turn, no mask we sent against them standing a chance against him. Eventually, we lost them altogether.”

“Until yesterday,” the Sun Mask said. “When this special young soldier slipped up and gave himself away.”

“That’s correct.”

“And that’s why you’re here.” The Sun Mask bent down to look the fuhrer approximately in the eye. “You want my help bringing him down.”

The fuhrer nodded. “This young man’s abilities are far beyond the capabilities of any single soldier in my army. Even yours. No one stands a chance against him. But you, my friend, are the only one that comes close.”

The Sun Mask smiled. He liked the sound of this mission already. “What would I receive in return?”

“What would you like?”

The Sun Mask considered. He looked down at his hand, incredibly strong but still imperfect and mortal. “These cybernetic enhancements,” he said. “Assuming we find this scientist in the process, I want to be the first upgraded.”

The fuhrer nodded. “Anything else?”

“Then I want to control the whole of the African continent. Not just this one base. I want every single one. Nairobi, Cairo, Johannesburg, all of them.”

The fuhrer considered for a moment. He held out his robed hand. “I think, my dear friend, that we have ourselves a deal.”