Wisher’s abilities were measured in leagues, Major, Middle, and Minor and there were different ranks within the leagues ranging from S to F. I was at best a Middle B. Major Cs and Ds were beyond me.
“Stealth Call Union Mike. Emergency.”
The line picked up. Every vigilante had a hero’s Union contact. They were the ones who paid us for fighting villains.
“Hello, this is Mike-”
“Mike, it’s Crow. Major C threat at the downtown warehouse district sending you a precise location.”
The man’s voice changed immediately.
“Got it, can you share a feed with video and audio?”
“Yup.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Shifter pretending to be a minor villain, have reason to believe he isn’t. Cobra claims they’re trying to bait her into a fight because she refused to move illicit property. I already sent her the location but she presumes it’ll be a big fight either way.”
Mike was the local contact for this location so he was already aware of the terms.
“Here’s a list of all I know.”
I sent over my list of labeled criminals.
“Yeah, all these guys are in jail or out of the city,” he replied. “You should flee. Cobra’s gonna want a neutral stance for this I presume?”
“I’d guess so,” I replied.
Black feather-like wings came out from my back.
“Hey, Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“How much do you think I’ll make from this?”
“Depending on what they were moving and the resale value of the non-illicit stuff, anywhere from one to five grand.”
“Sweet!”
My sensors picked up two sub-sonic objects moving in and one super-sonic one. That must’ve been Cobra. A reasonable wisher wouldn’t break the sound barrier while trying to be sneaky but she was always the more brash type. I assumed the other two were heroes.
They should already know my location and leave me be, heading only for the goons in the warehouse.
“Mochi, you caught all that?”
“Yup.”
“Send all of the drones here. This could make good money for the media.”
My five drones surrounded the fight, each from about a quarter mile away.
“Think we’ll see any busted buildings?”
“Nah. It’s Airborn and the Tank they sent. Both of them generally try to keep the fight quick and short.”
The three masks had gotten together and were currently discussing their plan of attack. I saw something, a new drone floating about two hundred feet away from them.
Corpo drones.
Media companies tracked sonic booms and such to figure out where the action was and would send drones over as quickly as they could for media rights.
“Mochi.”
“On it.”
One of my drones chased it down and gutted the thing to death.
“Sorry, HeroWatch Entertainment. This footage is all mine.” Then, the fight began.
Powered fights were never really all that drawn out. The media made them seem that way by interlacing the same scenes at different angles but generally, heroes were trained to be quick and efficient with their attacks. Airborn was one of those silent but deadly types. He could manipulate and transform into air.
All the goons slumped over within a minute from carbon monoxide poisoning. The shifters came next. Then the Tank went through and cuffed them while they were down. Then all three masks enter the building.
Mochi sent the drones closer and had one of them enter the building.
It was worth it. Cobra had shifted into her half-snake form and was wrapped around an iron-suited figure who was desperately trying to stab at her scales and Tank had pinned down and tied up what looked to be a grower. Airborn stood above the guy, making sure he didn’t wake up and transform.
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Growers were dangerouse. Most of them grew into a monstrous form triggered by their rage, but since Airborn had snuck in there first, he just chose to put the man to sleep before he could have enough time to transform, flooding his lungs with carbon monoxide temporarily.
“Wow. What a clean bust,” I murmured.
“Yup. With heroes present and clear recordings from multiple parties. Let's see those lawyers beat these charges off!”
Five minutes later, ambulances came in, along with police securing the permits and Hero Union investigators.
[Incoming call, Hero’s Union Mike.]
“How much?” I asked, immediately into questioning.
“Calm down, we don’t even have a grip on what’s going on. You have footage right?”
“Yeah, I’ll send it over.”
The Hero’s Union controlled what footage got out to the media and even manipulated it at times. Most of the footage was validated by government officials and company contacts but if there was any information that risked a mask’s identity, then the Hero’s Union would intervene. Heros, Vigilantees, and even Villains, as long as they didn’t have a kill order on them, were guaranteed a right to privacy.
“You want us to sell the media rights on your behalf?” Mike asked me.
“The usual rates?”
“Ten percent, plus tax.”
“Yeah, fine. But what’s going on in there? I’m hearing choppers and even more supers are coming by, no?”
“I told you to leave, didn’t I?”
My black wings winded up and my feet started to leave the ground. My drones quickly followed me as I took off of the roof and into the night sky.
“What’s going on in there?” I asked Mike.
“Can’t talk about it, kid. But that’s usually a good sign. I’ll have a quote for you tomorrow on the price by the way. The more important the bust the bigger the payout after all. Gotta go.”
The line went dead.
Mike was weird but he had been my contact since I first joined. Of course, Mike wasn’t his real name, just his contact name. But he had been my go-to guy for quite a while.
This was nice though. Normally I had to put away a few minor villains for a few weeks straight to get this type of cash. Now I’d be getting it just for making a few calls.
I smiled as I flew down and onto my roof, and then I walked into the warehouse. I wasn’t rich by any means but my grandpa had owned this place and he had passed it down to me when he died. My grandmother didn’t care for the family business either, so she had no qualms about passing over the ownership.
That was about five years ago. I was saving up to renovate the place into a living space for me and Kayla, hoping to impress her with a wedding ring and a house before we both turned twenty.
But that was a long time ago. Too long to really care for in truth.
I went down the stairs and guided myself to my attic. There I sat down and the exosuit started to open up. First the head, then the arms and legs, then finally the chest. Mochi stood there, waiting for me with her wagging tail and a thick wooden cane in her mouth.
She had a sleek, metallic backpack on her that had a service dog label on it and wore a shiny red helmet with two holes for her ears.
I took the cane and slowly got out of the suit.
Pain seared through my left leg as I stepped out. It was an injury, one that I couldn’t afford to heal. Two hundred grand was the price of the nerve replacement surgery I’d need and that just seemed like an insane amount of money to spend on something I could deal with some pills and a cane.
Besides, it didn’t hurt when I was in the armor.
“How was it?” Mochi asked me.
“It was fine. I think we’ll make a lot of money from it.”
“How much?” She asked, her tail wagging even faster.
“About five grand from what Mike estimates.”
Then she jumped up and did a backflip.
“Woo Hoo! We’re gonna get some money! We’re gonna get some money!”
I laughed. Mochi was smart. She was genetically altered to age slower and to be as smart as a human being. But she was still a puppy for the most part.
“Meow.”
A small tabby rubbed between my legs with a gentle purr.
“Hey there Kimber. How are ya?”
“Meow,” the cat replied.
Kimber was Mochi’s cat. We had picked her up from the side of the street a couple of years ago and she was a striped gray tabby. She wasn’t fancy or rare but she was cute and Mochi loved her.
I bent down in slight pain, one hand reaching for the cat, the other holding onto my cane. I pet her for a few moments before straightening myself up and limping down the stairs.
“Kimber come!” Mohi demanded. The small cat meowed and followed behind her.
This was a warehouse but it had been converted into a mechanic shop since, then into a home, then into a superhero hideout, which was costly. There was the front-facing part which was the home and living quarters, then there was the back-facing part which was the garage, then there was the attic and the basement my grandpa had dug out without a permit. The attic and the basement served as the ‘secret hideout’ of the place and was where I normally kept my suit and equipment.
The door opened out into a hallway and once all cat, dog, and man were out of there, closed and sat flush against the wall unnoticeably. I walked to the living room and slumped against the sofa. I hadn’t been out long, only about two hours of patrol. Normally I spent all night in that suit, at least ten hours.
Half of being a vigilante was just finding crime when it happened. Crime didn’t have a set schedule or a set area so patrol took up most of your time, no matter how busy the day was.
Mochi jumped up on the couch and shoved her head underneath my arms. Smart or not, a dog was still a dog. I scratched her head slowly, first going behind one ear and then behind another making sure to scratch underneath her helmet, one of the only times she let me do so. Then the cat got jealous and my other hand got busy petting both of them. Head, back, belly, everything.
At first, I thought it’d be a bit weird, petting a dog who could think. But Mochi was a dog. She went to the dog park, she sniffed random shit on the ground and she barked at strange people, including the mailman.
“They gotta know their place!” was the most common excuse I’d gotten from her.
I rubbed her belly with her head in my lap and Kimber was purring gently by my other side.
This was a good night. Good money, good company, and a good home.
I’d been working to something like this for the past five years, and while my suit wasn’t where I wanted it to be, it was getting better.
I could make decent money as a Middle A vigilante, and I wasn’t too far away from that now. With some plasma cores and clamber engines, I’d be set.
I closed my eyes and resigned myself to a nap. Yeah, a good day.