The invasion on Paragon City had passed and the rebuilding had begun. Now was the time for those to recover from their injuries and mourn those who had fallen. Plans were made to fight back against the mysterious force that had appeared so suddenly and attacked so fiercely. Taffer Industry, fortunately, suffered only minor damages and no loss of life after the timely arrival of Marc Malone and his security team.
In the sub-level below the factory was one of three special labs set up around Paragon City used to monitor and maintain the MASH-1 unit when Donovan wasn't using it and it wasn't being contained at the lab on Westbrook campus. Complete with a diagnostic machine, a cot for Donovan when he was piloting MASH, and a wide assortment of tools, some created specifically for working on MASH.
Donovan, sat quietly on a counter in the lab as Professor Argust, the head technician hired by Donovan's father to head up the MASH Project, inspected the damaged drone. Various cables were hooked up to its ports and data streamed across the dozen of computers in the workshop. The invaders had badly damaged the drone to the point that it couldn't even move it's legs, forcing Donovan to teleport back to his body at the school. The medi-port devices had been burnt out and needed replacing. Half of the sensors were out of alignment or just plain offline.
The MASH was all but toast.
Argust shook his head and mumbled notes to himself as he continued his work. Finally, Donovan's curiousity overcame him and he spoke up. "How bad is it, sir?"
Argust looked up from his work and shook his head, "I'm not going to lie, Donovan. It's bad. Real bad. This equipment wasn't made to handle the amount of damage you put it through. I warned you that the mechanics were fragile and shouldn't be put in harm's way..."
"Unless absolutely necessary, I know." Donovan finished for him, frowning. He'd known that he was going to catch flak for what he'd done, but the thought of staying in the Bunker, surrounded by all those scared kids and listening to the others fighting to protect his city...he didn't even consider it when Lorne had offered to get him to MASH. "I couldn't do nothing."
There was a moment of silence as Argust stopped what he was doing and looked at Donovan. Finally, he sighed and lowered his gaze. "I know Donovan. I'm sure you helped out as best you could. Still though, you were told not to involve yourself with these larger problems until we were able to outfit you properly."
Donovan took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. They always got sore when he was getting upset. Getting another lecture from the Professor so soon after he'd been talked to by Ms. Wilson for disobeying rules and leaving the Bunker to help was a real burden on his conscious. Fortunately, Donovan wasn't going to be in too much trouble for his actions.
"Can it be fixed?" Donovan finally asked, sliding his glasses back on, "Or am I just the geeky kid that can't touch calculators?"
Argust turned to a monitor and typed in several commands. Various schematics flashed by on the screen, some flashing green while others flashed red. "It'll be a while, but MASH can be operational again..." Argust answered, but something in his voice made Donovan cringe inside.
"But...?" Donovan pushed.
The Professor sighed and looked over at Donovan, an apologetic look on his face, "But, because of the events that have occured, your father is considering suspending the project. He feels that the danger you're putting yourself into isn't worth the risk."
A scowl crossed Donovans face, a rarity for him. "You mean my mom thinks that and my dad is just going along with it." Though Donovan loved and respected his mother, he harbored a small amount of resentment for how much she coddled him.
Argust just shrugged as he began disconnecting the cables from MASH, his diagnostic complete. "Whatever the reason, I can't do anything without his approval Donovan. You know that. Until then, the MASH remains here." Argust responded as he flipped a switch and all the monitors blinked off. "You'll have to take it up with your father otherwise."
Donovan stared at the floor for a moment, pondering what Argust had told him. Finally, he hopped off the counter and made his way to the elevator. "Thanks, Professor, for everything." Donovan called back. Argust just nodded with a small smile and went back to his work as the elevator doors closed. As the lift rose, Donovan pulled out his cellphone and took out the stylus hooked to the side, using it to bring up his parents number in Switzerland.
Donovan wasn't sure what time it was there, but it was still early in the morning so they were probably still up. After two rings, he was greeted with someone picking up the phone. "Hello?" A familiar voice answered.
"Dad? It's me." Donovan responded as he reached the main floor and exited the lift into the assembly line. From there, it would lead to the offices and then to general parking lot. The factory was empty as the employees were all given the day off on account of construction going on outside to repair the damages.
"Donovan. How are you?" His father, Max, called out. As usual, he sounded happy to hear from his son, but Donovan could hear in his dad's voice that he knew why Donovan had called.
Ignoring the small talk, Donovan went straight to business, "You're shutting down the MASH Project? What about all my work? What about doing good things to help out others?" Donovan never really had the sales tact that Max had, often blurting out what he meant rather than using finesse.
His dad sighed on the end and was silent for a few seconds. "It was a hard decision, Donovan. I didn't make it lightly. However, after seeing the damage that you'd put the MASH through, I couldn't let you just risk your life again. You were careless and clearly not ready for this kind of commitment."
"I had to help, dad! People were dying in the streets. Innocent people! I helped save a lot of them!" Donovan pleaded back, his voice cracking slightly from the strain, "I made it out alive. I survived the attack and got home safe. Isn't that what matters? Doesn't that count for something?"
"You got lucky, son. What happens if next time, the MASH is completely disabled and you're stuck. Or worse, you're completely destroyed? We don't know what happens to you if that happens. You could end up back in your body or your mind could be destroyed. It's not a risk I'm willing to take anymore." His dad countered. "Paragon City has managed to survive this long without you, Donovan. It can survive past this too."
The words stung deep in Donovans heart. He'd always wanted to try and make a difference and prove to himself and others that he was worthy of his parents name. A name that was highly respected among industry leaders and academics the world over. Now he was being told that his efforts were for naught...that he wasn't good enough. By his own father.
Max realized right away that he'd said something to hurt his son. "Don, I didn't mean it like that." He tried to recover, but it was too late. "I...just want you to understand where I'm coming from here. This isn't permanent, alright? Just for now."
Hands numb and jaw sore, Donovan nodded stiffly, "Yeah sure. Whatever you say, dad." His voice was flat and cold. "After all, the world'll still be here tomorrow, right?" Before his dad could respond, Donovan hung up. A second later, it rang again but Donovan simply turned it off and shoved it back into his pocket. Opening the main door out into the parking lot, Donovan stepped out into the bright and sunny day, but he never noticed it as he trudged away from Taffer Industry, a hero no more.
Other Casualties
Re: Other Casualties
Donovan stared at his phone as he walked, internally debating on whether he wanted to go through with it or not. It had been over a week since he'd had his confrontation with his father about the fate of MASH-1. That was the last time he'd talked to him, having avoided their calls since. Still though, Donovan knew it was something he was going to have to face if he was going to convince his parents, or his father at least, to allow him to continue being MASH. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and used the stylus to push his parents Switzerland number. It rang four times before someone finally answered. "Hello?" A woman's voice, his mother Ophelia, "Donny?"
An awkward pause filled the moment as Donovan tried to remember what he wanted to say. He'd rehearsed it a hundred times in his head. Still though, nothing came out. Finally, Donovan managed a mumbled "Hello."
"Honey, it's 7 in the morning here. What time is it?" Ophelia responded. Clearly she'd just gotten up from the tiredness in her voice.
"1 in the morning." Donovan answered. He hadn't realized how late it actually was, being so engrossed in what he was about to do.
Weariness was replaced by concern and a mothers ire, "What are you doing up so late?" She demanded, "Is everything okay? Your father told me about what happened." Inside, Donovan resisted the urge to yell out that of course she'd know. It was her doing that the MASH wasn't going to be repaired and that Donovan couldn't be a hero anymore. Childish anger rose up like bile in his throat, but Donovan managed to surpress it and push it back down. Rage wouldn't help the situation any right now.
"Is dad there?" Donovan asked as he paced back and forth, his body filling with nervous energy.
Ophelia sighed on the other end, "No. He's had an early meeting today. He won't be back til later tonight." There was the sound of movement and a door opening, followed by voices in the background and his mom thanking someone then the sound of a spoon stirring something in a mug. Probably coffee. "You know you can talk to me about this, right? I know you're mad, but that doesn't mean we can't talk."
Donovan stopped pacing and rubbed his eye a little, "What about? It doesn't matter. You made your decision."
"It wasn't a decision we came to lightly, Donny. Your dad and I talked about this for a long time and after what happened...well.." Ophelia faded off for a second, "Well, the thought of losing you scared us more than anything else and the invasion really hit home for us. We're doing what we feel is best for you."
"I know you think you are, mom. I get that. I really do. But what about what's best for other people?" The teenager argued back, "What about people that I can help? I can make a difference with the MASH, mom. I can make sure someone else's 15 year old kid makes it home because I can survive what they can't. What about them?" Donovan didn't mean to lay it on so thick, but it was something that had gnawed on him for the past week or so. It was sort of his trump card really.
There was a long pause where neither one said anything, then finally his mother spoke up. "I'm sorry Donny. I...just can't allow that to happen. And your father agrees with me. You'll understand when you're older." Donovan could tell from her voice that she was upset by what he'd said but knew that she wasn't going to back down. Her resolve was thick as steel and as long as she had say, Donovan would never be MASH again.
Donovan let out a slow sigh then nodded, "Alright. I get it. I tried."
"I know you're upset and I promise we'll figure something out. But for now, just know that this is for your safety." His mom assured him, though Donovan felt the furthest thing from assured as possible. "I have to get going. Call you later today?"
"Sure thing mom." Donovan replied. They shared their goodbyes and Donovan hung up and took a deep breath of the night air. Looking up at the stars, Donovan replayed the conversation in his head. It really had gone how he'd figured it would, even if he had reached his dad. Still, he had to give it another try. Now it was time for Plan B. Pulling the hood of his sweater over his head, Donovan ducked behind a bush next to a chainlink fence and quickly located the part that was seperated from the pole, creating a hole just big enough for him to squeeze through.
The parking lot for Taffer Industries was empty, as it should be at this time of night, but well lit. Fortunately, Donovan had spent so much time at the factory, he knew the timing of the security patrols and was able to quickly move across to the relative safety of the shadows by the building. Cautiously working his way along the wall, keeping an eye out for anyone who might see him, Donovan finally reached the receiving door by the loading docks. An electronic lock was on the wall beside it, the numberpad glowing in the shadows.
Leaning against the wall and taking one last quick look around, Donovan touched the pad with his palm. There was a slight snapping sensation, like static shock, as Donovan's mind fell into darkness as if he became trapped in a deprivation tank. Instinctively, the functions of the lock became his and he could 'see' what he was looking for in his minds eye. One of the lesser known abilities Donovan had was being able to access any code or password hidden as well as the functions in an electronic system. Donovan didn't want to use his keycard, knowing that the computer would log any uses. Thus, a mere five seconds after he touched the lock, it buzzed and unlocked as he returned to his body and slipped inside.
Moving swiftly among the crates and machinery, he made it to the hidden access door to the MASH dock downstairs. Using the same trick, Donovan made his way to the sub-basement lab. Donovan moved to the computer and turned it on then quickly began searching the room as he waited for it to boot up. The MASH remained where it had been the last time Donovan had been there, covered in a sheet. From what he could see, no work had been done on the drone, which made Donovan more determined in his task. After digging through some spare parts, Donovan came across something he recognized. It was a main part of the medi-porter, the device that largely ran the MASH. It was missing some important components and had no power, but it was certainly a start.
The computer now fully on, Donovan sat down and plugged a USB drive in. Just as the drive connected, there was another snap and Donovan was inside the computer. The entire hard drive at his disposal, he was able to track down blueprints and notes about MASH and transfer them to the his portable drive. The plans now his, Donovan returned to his body and retrieved his drive before slipping back into the elevator and sneaking out of the building. As Donovan crawled back through the hole in the fence, he glanced at his watch and noticed the the whole theft had taken no more than ten minutes in total. A small grin formed on his face as he walked away from Taffer Industries, the piece of medi-porter in his hand. Ten minutes and Donovan now had the means to follow his dream.
* * *
From the shadows, a figure watched the teenager turned thief leave Taffer Industries then raised a hand to activate the headset on it's ear. "Yes sir. I'm watching him leave now. Did you want me to intercept?" It then listened silently as it received it's next orders. "Understood." The figure simply replied and ended the transmission as it slipped back into the shadows.
An awkward pause filled the moment as Donovan tried to remember what he wanted to say. He'd rehearsed it a hundred times in his head. Still though, nothing came out. Finally, Donovan managed a mumbled "Hello."
"Honey, it's 7 in the morning here. What time is it?" Ophelia responded. Clearly she'd just gotten up from the tiredness in her voice.
"1 in the morning." Donovan answered. He hadn't realized how late it actually was, being so engrossed in what he was about to do.
Weariness was replaced by concern and a mothers ire, "What are you doing up so late?" She demanded, "Is everything okay? Your father told me about what happened." Inside, Donovan resisted the urge to yell out that of course she'd know. It was her doing that the MASH wasn't going to be repaired and that Donovan couldn't be a hero anymore. Childish anger rose up like bile in his throat, but Donovan managed to surpress it and push it back down. Rage wouldn't help the situation any right now.
"Is dad there?" Donovan asked as he paced back and forth, his body filling with nervous energy.
Ophelia sighed on the other end, "No. He's had an early meeting today. He won't be back til later tonight." There was the sound of movement and a door opening, followed by voices in the background and his mom thanking someone then the sound of a spoon stirring something in a mug. Probably coffee. "You know you can talk to me about this, right? I know you're mad, but that doesn't mean we can't talk."
Donovan stopped pacing and rubbed his eye a little, "What about? It doesn't matter. You made your decision."
"It wasn't a decision we came to lightly, Donny. Your dad and I talked about this for a long time and after what happened...well.." Ophelia faded off for a second, "Well, the thought of losing you scared us more than anything else and the invasion really hit home for us. We're doing what we feel is best for you."
"I know you think you are, mom. I get that. I really do. But what about what's best for other people?" The teenager argued back, "What about people that I can help? I can make a difference with the MASH, mom. I can make sure someone else's 15 year old kid makes it home because I can survive what they can't. What about them?" Donovan didn't mean to lay it on so thick, but it was something that had gnawed on him for the past week or so. It was sort of his trump card really.
There was a long pause where neither one said anything, then finally his mother spoke up. "I'm sorry Donny. I...just can't allow that to happen. And your father agrees with me. You'll understand when you're older." Donovan could tell from her voice that she was upset by what he'd said but knew that she wasn't going to back down. Her resolve was thick as steel and as long as she had say, Donovan would never be MASH again.
Donovan let out a slow sigh then nodded, "Alright. I get it. I tried."
"I know you're upset and I promise we'll figure something out. But for now, just know that this is for your safety." His mom assured him, though Donovan felt the furthest thing from assured as possible. "I have to get going. Call you later today?"
"Sure thing mom." Donovan replied. They shared their goodbyes and Donovan hung up and took a deep breath of the night air. Looking up at the stars, Donovan replayed the conversation in his head. It really had gone how he'd figured it would, even if he had reached his dad. Still, he had to give it another try. Now it was time for Plan B. Pulling the hood of his sweater over his head, Donovan ducked behind a bush next to a chainlink fence and quickly located the part that was seperated from the pole, creating a hole just big enough for him to squeeze through.
The parking lot for Taffer Industries was empty, as it should be at this time of night, but well lit. Fortunately, Donovan had spent so much time at the factory, he knew the timing of the security patrols and was able to quickly move across to the relative safety of the shadows by the building. Cautiously working his way along the wall, keeping an eye out for anyone who might see him, Donovan finally reached the receiving door by the loading docks. An electronic lock was on the wall beside it, the numberpad glowing in the shadows.
Leaning against the wall and taking one last quick look around, Donovan touched the pad with his palm. There was a slight snapping sensation, like static shock, as Donovan's mind fell into darkness as if he became trapped in a deprivation tank. Instinctively, the functions of the lock became his and he could 'see' what he was looking for in his minds eye. One of the lesser known abilities Donovan had was being able to access any code or password hidden as well as the functions in an electronic system. Donovan didn't want to use his keycard, knowing that the computer would log any uses. Thus, a mere five seconds after he touched the lock, it buzzed and unlocked as he returned to his body and slipped inside.
Moving swiftly among the crates and machinery, he made it to the hidden access door to the MASH dock downstairs. Using the same trick, Donovan made his way to the sub-basement lab. Donovan moved to the computer and turned it on then quickly began searching the room as he waited for it to boot up. The MASH remained where it had been the last time Donovan had been there, covered in a sheet. From what he could see, no work had been done on the drone, which made Donovan more determined in his task. After digging through some spare parts, Donovan came across something he recognized. It was a main part of the medi-porter, the device that largely ran the MASH. It was missing some important components and had no power, but it was certainly a start.
The computer now fully on, Donovan sat down and plugged a USB drive in. Just as the drive connected, there was another snap and Donovan was inside the computer. The entire hard drive at his disposal, he was able to track down blueprints and notes about MASH and transfer them to the his portable drive. The plans now his, Donovan returned to his body and retrieved his drive before slipping back into the elevator and sneaking out of the building. As Donovan crawled back through the hole in the fence, he glanced at his watch and noticed the the whole theft had taken no more than ten minutes in total. A small grin formed on his face as he walked away from Taffer Industries, the piece of medi-porter in his hand. Ten minutes and Donovan now had the means to follow his dream.
* * *
From the shadows, a figure watched the teenager turned thief leave Taffer Industries then raised a hand to activate the headset on it's ear. "Yes sir. I'm watching him leave now. Did you want me to intercept?" It then listened silently as it received it's next orders. "Understood." The figure simply replied and ended the transmission as it slipped back into the shadows.
Re: Other Casualties
Donovan sat at the worktable, squinting as he carefully smoldered some wires down, sweat beading on his forehead from concentration. Around him, pieces of equipment lay haphazardly around the abandoned warehouse he'd taken as his workshop. Sheets of paper with various designs and blueprints littered the table and desk.
For weeks, Donovan had been spending almost every moment he was out of class in the warehouse, working on his idea. It had taken a lot of time and trial and error, but he thought he was really starting to get the hang of it. The idea began when he'd been talking to some of the other students about making a new drone for him to pilot.
Unfortunately, working from scratch wasn't something that Donovan was able to do. However, his powers gave him an innate ability to understand how to fix machines...and improve them. So, Donovan had snuck into Taffer Industries and stolen, or borrowed rather, a spare medi-porter from them. From there, he simply concentrated on finding a way to make it like MASH. It worked surprisingly well and soon he knew every piece he'd need to start the process.
There were pitfalls of course. Though he knew what he need to build the machine, he had no clue what tools he required. The first week alone had been spent doing research on various things. From there, it was a simply matter of discreetly siphoning funds from his bank account to buy the pieces and equipment he would need.
Now though, three weeks later, he was almost done. After he finished the last wire, he closed the panel and inspected his work. It wasn't as clunky as the old MASH and definitely lighter. Heavier metals and plastics would have been expensive and more difficult to work with. Though Donovan had toyed with the idea of different colors, he settled on sticking with the white and red that the original MASH was.
Finally, he was ready for his final test run. Donovan pulled the dirty smock he was wearing and tossed it aside, standing in a form fitting suit, white with a red stripe up the side. The feet and hands were completely covered as he slipped them into the gauntlets and boots he'd been working on. They automatically clamped on to his appendages and powered up as they connected with the circuits that ran through the suit. As energy built up, the cross symbol on Donovan's chest began to glow and beat like a heart. Donovan took a few steps, getting a feel for the suit and the heaviness of the boots and gloves. Satisfied that he could easily move around, he pulled on the mask, completely covering his face and hiding his eyes behind red lenses.
Looking up at one of the shattered window, Donovan lifted his arms unsteadily, remembering the first time he'd tested the boots which had left him bruised from a chance meeting with the wall...the ceiling...and the floor. Twice. Still though, tests after tht had proven reliable. With a deep breath, Donovan shifted his weight back and activated the thrusters.
The rocket boots fired, launching Donovan into the air. Too fast, he thought, going to miss the exit. Donovan panicked for a split second until he barreled through the opening and into the night sky. Looking back, he realized he'd been holding his breath and let it out slowly. Easily 100 feet off the ground, the realization that he was really flying slowly dawned on him. Breaking into a wide smile beneath the mask, Donovan soared into the air.
It didn't take long for Donovan to find what he was looking for. Scan the alleyways and backlots long enough, you always find someone being victimized. A young couple being mugged by a group of thugs. Donovan smirked a little Perfect.
"C'mon man, let's just have a little fun with her." One of the thugs demanded, letting out a high-pitched laugh. "We'll take turns, I promise! Or do ya need another blade to the gut?"
"Get away from us!" The man yelled out, standing between his girlfriend and the creeps. He was holding his side, his hand and leg stained red.
"I'd listen if I were you." Donovan tossed out as he landed a dozen feet away. He tried to look impressive, but felt a little self-conscious at the same time. He'd never really put himself out there like this before. "I'd hate for someone to get hurt."
The gang looked at the stringy teenager and laughed, "What's he supposed to be? Get lost kid!" One of them called out. Another one hurled a beer bottle at Donovan, who hastily lifted a gauntleted hand and deflected it, causing it to shatter around him.
"Last chance." Donovan warned them.
One of the gangsters finished his cigarette and flicked it aside. "Screw this. Kid wants to play hero, he can find out what it's like in a body cast." Before he could reach Donovan though, the teenager lifted one hand and unleashed a blast of energy square into the thugs chest, sending him flying like a ragdoll. He didn't get back up.
There was a brief moment of stunned silence, then finally one of the gangsters spoke up. Clearly the Rhode Scholar of the group. "Get 'im!" The gang surged forward as one, some pulling out knives while other picked up whatever they passed to use as a weapon. There were six of them altogether.
Twelve wouldn't have mattered.
Not a single one got close enough to Donovan to even touch him as he fired shot after shot, moving away from his attackers. One of them tried to charge him from the side, but Donovan simply took to the air and landed between the gang and their would be victims. In the entire exchange, four of them were now down and out.
"That's it. I've had it with this kid!" One yelled out and pulled out a gun. As he leveled it at Donovans head, time seemed to slow down. There was a scream, maybe it was one of the couple. Maybe it was Donovan. Donovan fired a shot just as the gun exploded, it's deadly projectile flying towards him. A flash of light and the thug was down and out.
Time moved forward again. Donovan quickly checked himself to make sure he hadn't been hit. A breath of relief escaped him as everything looked okay.
The last of the thugs stood in stunned silence then dropped his pipe and made a break for it. Donovan casually lifted his hand and fired a shot into the fleeing gangsters back, sending him sprawling into a pile of garbage.
The gangsters taken care of, Donovan checked on the couple. The man had collapsed on the ground and wasn't looking so hot. His skin was pale and clammy. It didn't look good. His girlfriend looked at Donovan, tears in here eyes. "Help him! Get him to a hospital!" She cried.
Donovan knelt down beside the man and put his gauntleted hands inches from the wound, a deep stab in his midsection. "No time. He won't make it there." The teenager told her, "But if we can't get him to the hospital, we get the hospital to him." Yeah, it sounded cheesy. Made more sense in Donovan's head.
Energy flowed from the gloves and into the mans body. Instantly, flesh began to re-knit itself and blood faded from his skin and clothes. Even his shirt repaired itself until it was as good as new. The man's eyes fluttered open as his skin returned a healthy look. The woman cried out happily and hugged the man tightly as Donvan stepped away and began tagging the gang members for teleportation.
"Thank you." The woman said, smiling happily as tears rolled down her cheek. "You saved our lives."
Donovan looked back at them and smiled, a real sense of pride filling him, then nodded, "It's what I'm here to do." Then activated his rockets and jetted off into the sky again.
MASH-2 was a rousing success.
For weeks, Donovan had been spending almost every moment he was out of class in the warehouse, working on his idea. It had taken a lot of time and trial and error, but he thought he was really starting to get the hang of it. The idea began when he'd been talking to some of the other students about making a new drone for him to pilot.
Unfortunately, working from scratch wasn't something that Donovan was able to do. However, his powers gave him an innate ability to understand how to fix machines...and improve them. So, Donovan had snuck into Taffer Industries and stolen, or borrowed rather, a spare medi-porter from them. From there, he simply concentrated on finding a way to make it like MASH. It worked surprisingly well and soon he knew every piece he'd need to start the process.
There were pitfalls of course. Though he knew what he need to build the machine, he had no clue what tools he required. The first week alone had been spent doing research on various things. From there, it was a simply matter of discreetly siphoning funds from his bank account to buy the pieces and equipment he would need.
Now though, three weeks later, he was almost done. After he finished the last wire, he closed the panel and inspected his work. It wasn't as clunky as the old MASH and definitely lighter. Heavier metals and plastics would have been expensive and more difficult to work with. Though Donovan had toyed with the idea of different colors, he settled on sticking with the white and red that the original MASH was.
Finally, he was ready for his final test run. Donovan pulled the dirty smock he was wearing and tossed it aside, standing in a form fitting suit, white with a red stripe up the side. The feet and hands were completely covered as he slipped them into the gauntlets and boots he'd been working on. They automatically clamped on to his appendages and powered up as they connected with the circuits that ran through the suit. As energy built up, the cross symbol on Donovan's chest began to glow and beat like a heart. Donovan took a few steps, getting a feel for the suit and the heaviness of the boots and gloves. Satisfied that he could easily move around, he pulled on the mask, completely covering his face and hiding his eyes behind red lenses.
Looking up at one of the shattered window, Donovan lifted his arms unsteadily, remembering the first time he'd tested the boots which had left him bruised from a chance meeting with the wall...the ceiling...and the floor. Twice. Still though, tests after tht had proven reliable. With a deep breath, Donovan shifted his weight back and activated the thrusters.
The rocket boots fired, launching Donovan into the air. Too fast, he thought, going to miss the exit. Donovan panicked for a split second until he barreled through the opening and into the night sky. Looking back, he realized he'd been holding his breath and let it out slowly. Easily 100 feet off the ground, the realization that he was really flying slowly dawned on him. Breaking into a wide smile beneath the mask, Donovan soared into the air.
It didn't take long for Donovan to find what he was looking for. Scan the alleyways and backlots long enough, you always find someone being victimized. A young couple being mugged by a group of thugs. Donovan smirked a little Perfect.
"C'mon man, let's just have a little fun with her." One of the thugs demanded, letting out a high-pitched laugh. "We'll take turns, I promise! Or do ya need another blade to the gut?"
"Get away from us!" The man yelled out, standing between his girlfriend and the creeps. He was holding his side, his hand and leg stained red.
"I'd listen if I were you." Donovan tossed out as he landed a dozen feet away. He tried to look impressive, but felt a little self-conscious at the same time. He'd never really put himself out there like this before. "I'd hate for someone to get hurt."
The gang looked at the stringy teenager and laughed, "What's he supposed to be? Get lost kid!" One of them called out. Another one hurled a beer bottle at Donovan, who hastily lifted a gauntleted hand and deflected it, causing it to shatter around him.
"Last chance." Donovan warned them.
One of the gangsters finished his cigarette and flicked it aside. "Screw this. Kid wants to play hero, he can find out what it's like in a body cast." Before he could reach Donovan though, the teenager lifted one hand and unleashed a blast of energy square into the thugs chest, sending him flying like a ragdoll. He didn't get back up.
There was a brief moment of stunned silence, then finally one of the gangsters spoke up. Clearly the Rhode Scholar of the group. "Get 'im!" The gang surged forward as one, some pulling out knives while other picked up whatever they passed to use as a weapon. There were six of them altogether.
Twelve wouldn't have mattered.
Not a single one got close enough to Donovan to even touch him as he fired shot after shot, moving away from his attackers. One of them tried to charge him from the side, but Donovan simply took to the air and landed between the gang and their would be victims. In the entire exchange, four of them were now down and out.
"That's it. I've had it with this kid!" One yelled out and pulled out a gun. As he leveled it at Donovans head, time seemed to slow down. There was a scream, maybe it was one of the couple. Maybe it was Donovan. Donovan fired a shot just as the gun exploded, it's deadly projectile flying towards him. A flash of light and the thug was down and out.
Time moved forward again. Donovan quickly checked himself to make sure he hadn't been hit. A breath of relief escaped him as everything looked okay.
The last of the thugs stood in stunned silence then dropped his pipe and made a break for it. Donovan casually lifted his hand and fired a shot into the fleeing gangsters back, sending him sprawling into a pile of garbage.
The gangsters taken care of, Donovan checked on the couple. The man had collapsed on the ground and wasn't looking so hot. His skin was pale and clammy. It didn't look good. His girlfriend looked at Donovan, tears in here eyes. "Help him! Get him to a hospital!" She cried.
Donovan knelt down beside the man and put his gauntleted hands inches from the wound, a deep stab in his midsection. "No time. He won't make it there." The teenager told her, "But if we can't get him to the hospital, we get the hospital to him." Yeah, it sounded cheesy. Made more sense in Donovan's head.
Energy flowed from the gloves and into the mans body. Instantly, flesh began to re-knit itself and blood faded from his skin and clothes. Even his shirt repaired itself until it was as good as new. The man's eyes fluttered open as his skin returned a healthy look. The woman cried out happily and hugged the man tightly as Donvan stepped away and began tagging the gang members for teleportation.
"Thank you." The woman said, smiling happily as tears rolled down her cheek. "You saved our lives."
Donovan looked back at them and smiled, a real sense of pride filling him, then nodded, "It's what I'm here to do." Then activated his rockets and jetted off into the sky again.
MASH-2 was a rousing success.
Re: Other Casualties
Alone in his room, Donovan idly tapped the stylus on the side of his phone while he tried to predict how this conversation was going to go. For nearly a month now, he'd been continuing his hero work in the new MASH-2 suit, even doing a few solo stunts. Nothing major. A few muggings, a couple car jackings and one bank robbery. For the most part, he'd assisted at accidents and fires, tending to the wounded. Still, the fact that he'd gone behind his parents back to do this didn't sit well with him. The other kids kept calling him a rebel for taking his own path, but everytime he thought about how his parents were going to react, it gave him a stomach ache. Amy had convinced him that telling them was the best course. That no matter what they did, they weren't going to stop him from doing what he wanted to do. They could support his decision and help him or they could get out of his way.
His resolve now firm, Donovan hit the speed dial for their number and waited as the phone began to ring. After the fourth ring, an someone picked up. "Hello?" A man with an unfamiliar voice answered.
"Uhm, hi. Is Mr. or Mrs. Taffer there?" Donovan asked, getting up and pacing the room as he began to get anxious.
There was silence on the other end for a moment then hushed whispering in a language Donovan didn't recognize right away. Probably German. Finally, the man returned. "I am sorry sir, but they had to leave for an important business trip. They will not be back until Thursday the earliest."
A combination of exasperation and relief washed over Donovan as he realized that he wouldn't be confronting his parents today. "Did they say where they would be going? Where we can get a hold of them?" Maybe he could still get a hold of them somewhere else.
More silence.
"I'm sorry sir, but that's classified."
"But I'm their son."
"I'm sorry sir."
"Yeah sure." Donovan finally relented and hung up. Falling backwards on his bed with a womph, Donovan laid there for a while staring up at the ceiling. He turned over the conversation in his head. It wasn't too big a surprise that they'd taken off and made sure no one could find them, even their own son. Donovan had seen it so many times, he didn't even bother getting names anymore. A lot of times, his father would have to conduct private meetings with military and government agencies. The kind that didn't like people knowing about what they were doing.
With a resigned sigh, Donovan sat up and pulled his laptop over to him. Pulling on his thin gloves, to seperate his skin from the keyboard, he opened up his browser. If he couldn't talk to them, he'd email them. It wasn't how he'd like to have done it, but Donovan wanted to get it over with and if this was how he was going to do it, then this is how it was going to get done. However, a headline on the newsfeed distracted him.
-Industrialist daughter kidnapped!-
Clicking the link, he saw a familiar name: Chelsea Grant. She was the teenage daughter of Patrick Grant, the owner of Grant Powers. They worked with Taffer Industries by providing powersources and batteries for the medical equipment made. Donovan had known both of them for over ten years through social outings and such. Chelsea was a spoiled brat, to put it bluntly, and had instantly taken a dislike with Donovan and his shy personality. Why anyone would willingly want to put up with her for anything, even kidnapping, was beyond him.
Still though, her father was pretty wealthy. Chelsea would make a pretty tempting ransom victim. A concern that his own parents had. Grant Powers also had a few enemies too, the chief among them was Icarus Sun who had tried repeatedly to steal the company from Mr. Grant. The owner, Richard Jennings, was a very creepy guy. Donovan had only met him twice but each time, he felt like he needed to scrub his hands clean til they bled. Something about the guy screamed slimeball. Still though, would he resort to kidnapping just to leverage Grant into giving up the company?
Decision made, Donovan set his laptop aside. His parents would have to wait for the moment. There was a rotten heiress to rescue. One quick suit up and systems check later and Donovan was soaring out of the school grounds and into the air. His first stop: Icarus Sun offices in Independence Port. Donovan didn't really expect to find anything there, because what kind of idiot takes their victim back to their own place of business? But it was a start.
The same shadowy figure that had tailed Donovan the night he broke into Taffer Industries watched from an alley across the street. Pressing the comm in its ear, it spoke up. "He just left the school. Looks like he's heading to Independence." Silence as it listened to the voice on the other end. "Understoood." And the shadow slipped away, following the the flying teenager as quickly a possible.
Donovan couldn't believe it. He stood on the roof of a warehouse next to the office for Icarus Sun, staring down into the skylight below. There, he could see three men, all of them armed with automatic weapons and wearing cheap suits. Family maybe. Or wanna-bes. The Family wouldn't be so dumb as to bring their hostage back. At least, Donovan didn't think they would be... He'd only had to check three windows before he'd found them. Either they wanted to be caught or it was Donovans lucky night.
Before them, Chelsea sat tired to a chair, gagged and looking pretty scared, her heavy mascara smeared down her face from tears. Donovan actually felt bad for the girl. He'd figured her mouth would have been flapping in a rage as she assured them of who her father was and demanded to be set free. It was different seeing Chelsea as a scared victim, just like anyone else would be.
Resisting the urge to go dropping in, Donovan knelt by the skylight and watched. There could be more men that he hadn't noticed right away. A wry smile formed under his mask as he remembered Druce's training. Recon. The waiting paid off as a tall man with wiry grey hair entered the room. Donovan recognized him instantly: Richard Jennings. Well, if that wasn't a smoking gun then Donovan was in the wrong business. Donovan couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was clear that plans weren't going as well as they'd like. Jennings was pacing back and forth, ranting about something. Maybe Grant wasn't giving in to his demands? Didn't seem likely. Chelsea was forver a daddy's girl and there was little that Grant wouldn't give for her.
When the sharp looking cleaver was pulled out from his jacket, Donovan knew it was time to act. Even as Jennings reached for Chelsea's hand, brandishing the blade over his head, Donovan was already in the air, firing down twin blasts of energy to shatter the skylight and drop in. The three goons looked up in unison, sharing the same shocked face. Clearly not Family. Family would have started shooting already. Not that Donovan was complaining as he fired out on shot to take out one guard. Landing in a crouch, Donovan didn't say a word as he fired another, hitting the second guy in the shoulder and sending him spinning into the air and landing in a pile. The third, finally recovering from the shock, started to fire but Donovan was already moving, rushing forward low to the ground as the bullets chewed up the ground where he'd been. Before the guard could correct his aim, Donovan swept both hands up, sending a wave of energy crashing into him. The force threw the gun up, bullets harmlessly slamming into the ceiling, as the goon sailed back into a forklift, hitting it hard. He didn't get back up.
"No no no no!" Jennings roared, turning on Donovan and charging at him, "You can't stop me now! I was so close!"
The teenager stood his ground and casually swept his hand to one side, sending a blast into Jennings chest, tossing him to the ground. All four of them lay unconscious in the ground. The whole ordeal had taken barely a minute. Moving to Chelsea, he untied her and she immediately hugged him, crying loudly in his ear. "Thank you thank you thank you." She kept repeating, keeping a deathgrip on Donovan.
A few rooftops away, the figure watched through a pair of binoculars, giving reports on what was happening into its comm piece. "He has the girl now. She's still alive." It listened to the response on the other end. "Very well sir. Moving in to bring him in. I'll contact you once he's in my custody."
His resolve now firm, Donovan hit the speed dial for their number and waited as the phone began to ring. After the fourth ring, an someone picked up. "Hello?" A man with an unfamiliar voice answered.
"Uhm, hi. Is Mr. or Mrs. Taffer there?" Donovan asked, getting up and pacing the room as he began to get anxious.
There was silence on the other end for a moment then hushed whispering in a language Donovan didn't recognize right away. Probably German. Finally, the man returned. "I am sorry sir, but they had to leave for an important business trip. They will not be back until Thursday the earliest."
A combination of exasperation and relief washed over Donovan as he realized that he wouldn't be confronting his parents today. "Did they say where they would be going? Where we can get a hold of them?" Maybe he could still get a hold of them somewhere else.
More silence.
"I'm sorry sir, but that's classified."
"But I'm their son."
"I'm sorry sir."
"Yeah sure." Donovan finally relented and hung up. Falling backwards on his bed with a womph, Donovan laid there for a while staring up at the ceiling. He turned over the conversation in his head. It wasn't too big a surprise that they'd taken off and made sure no one could find them, even their own son. Donovan had seen it so many times, he didn't even bother getting names anymore. A lot of times, his father would have to conduct private meetings with military and government agencies. The kind that didn't like people knowing about what they were doing.
With a resigned sigh, Donovan sat up and pulled his laptop over to him. Pulling on his thin gloves, to seperate his skin from the keyboard, he opened up his browser. If he couldn't talk to them, he'd email them. It wasn't how he'd like to have done it, but Donovan wanted to get it over with and if this was how he was going to do it, then this is how it was going to get done. However, a headline on the newsfeed distracted him.
-Industrialist daughter kidnapped!-
Clicking the link, he saw a familiar name: Chelsea Grant. She was the teenage daughter of Patrick Grant, the owner of Grant Powers. They worked with Taffer Industries by providing powersources and batteries for the medical equipment made. Donovan had known both of them for over ten years through social outings and such. Chelsea was a spoiled brat, to put it bluntly, and had instantly taken a dislike with Donovan and his shy personality. Why anyone would willingly want to put up with her for anything, even kidnapping, was beyond him.
Still though, her father was pretty wealthy. Chelsea would make a pretty tempting ransom victim. A concern that his own parents had. Grant Powers also had a few enemies too, the chief among them was Icarus Sun who had tried repeatedly to steal the company from Mr. Grant. The owner, Richard Jennings, was a very creepy guy. Donovan had only met him twice but each time, he felt like he needed to scrub his hands clean til they bled. Something about the guy screamed slimeball. Still though, would he resort to kidnapping just to leverage Grant into giving up the company?
Decision made, Donovan set his laptop aside. His parents would have to wait for the moment. There was a rotten heiress to rescue. One quick suit up and systems check later and Donovan was soaring out of the school grounds and into the air. His first stop: Icarus Sun offices in Independence Port. Donovan didn't really expect to find anything there, because what kind of idiot takes their victim back to their own place of business? But it was a start.
* * *
The same shadowy figure that had tailed Donovan the night he broke into Taffer Industries watched from an alley across the street. Pressing the comm in its ear, it spoke up. "He just left the school. Looks like he's heading to Independence." Silence as it listened to the voice on the other end. "Understoood." And the shadow slipped away, following the the flying teenager as quickly a possible.
* * *
Donovan couldn't believe it. He stood on the roof of a warehouse next to the office for Icarus Sun, staring down into the skylight below. There, he could see three men, all of them armed with automatic weapons and wearing cheap suits. Family maybe. Or wanna-bes. The Family wouldn't be so dumb as to bring their hostage back. At least, Donovan didn't think they would be... He'd only had to check three windows before he'd found them. Either they wanted to be caught or it was Donovans lucky night.
Before them, Chelsea sat tired to a chair, gagged and looking pretty scared, her heavy mascara smeared down her face from tears. Donovan actually felt bad for the girl. He'd figured her mouth would have been flapping in a rage as she assured them of who her father was and demanded to be set free. It was different seeing Chelsea as a scared victim, just like anyone else would be.
Resisting the urge to go dropping in, Donovan knelt by the skylight and watched. There could be more men that he hadn't noticed right away. A wry smile formed under his mask as he remembered Druce's training. Recon. The waiting paid off as a tall man with wiry grey hair entered the room. Donovan recognized him instantly: Richard Jennings. Well, if that wasn't a smoking gun then Donovan was in the wrong business. Donovan couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was clear that plans weren't going as well as they'd like. Jennings was pacing back and forth, ranting about something. Maybe Grant wasn't giving in to his demands? Didn't seem likely. Chelsea was forver a daddy's girl and there was little that Grant wouldn't give for her.
When the sharp looking cleaver was pulled out from his jacket, Donovan knew it was time to act. Even as Jennings reached for Chelsea's hand, brandishing the blade over his head, Donovan was already in the air, firing down twin blasts of energy to shatter the skylight and drop in. The three goons looked up in unison, sharing the same shocked face. Clearly not Family. Family would have started shooting already. Not that Donovan was complaining as he fired out on shot to take out one guard. Landing in a crouch, Donovan didn't say a word as he fired another, hitting the second guy in the shoulder and sending him spinning into the air and landing in a pile. The third, finally recovering from the shock, started to fire but Donovan was already moving, rushing forward low to the ground as the bullets chewed up the ground where he'd been. Before the guard could correct his aim, Donovan swept both hands up, sending a wave of energy crashing into him. The force threw the gun up, bullets harmlessly slamming into the ceiling, as the goon sailed back into a forklift, hitting it hard. He didn't get back up.
"No no no no!" Jennings roared, turning on Donovan and charging at him, "You can't stop me now! I was so close!"
The teenager stood his ground and casually swept his hand to one side, sending a blast into Jennings chest, tossing him to the ground. All four of them lay unconscious in the ground. The whole ordeal had taken barely a minute. Moving to Chelsea, he untied her and she immediately hugged him, crying loudly in his ear. "Thank you thank you thank you." She kept repeating, keeping a deathgrip on Donovan.
* * *
A few rooftops away, the figure watched through a pair of binoculars, giving reports on what was happening into its comm piece. "He has the girl now. She's still alive." It listened to the response on the other end. "Very well sir. Moving in to bring him in. I'll contact you once he's in my custody."
Re: Other Casualties
Donovan hugged Chelsea for a few moments then gently pulled himself away from the hysterical teenager, "Can you walk?" He asked her. Chelsea nodded quickly as Donovan led her to the exit door. "Good. I need you to go somewhere safe and wait for police. I need to finish up here." The girl seemed hesitant but finally relented and swiftly moved out the lot and down the street. Donovan watched her for a moment, just to make sure it was safe, then, satisfied that she would arrive unharmed, returned to the knocked out thugs and their boss.
As he went about tagging them for prison transport, he felt something watching him. It was a feeling he'd been getting a lot lately but he'd always dismissed it as high school paranoia. However, it was getting quite intense in the silent warehouse. Looking behind him, Donovan barely had time to register the attack before it came. Blue light filled his vision and he could feel the energy being pulled out of his body. It was like he'd walked up to Nilesh and gave him a big hug hello. The suit let out a dying hum as it powered down. The weight of the gauntlets forced Donovan to his knees as his body seemed to lose all control over itself. It was a struggle to even keep his eyes open.
"You stupid, annoying, nosey little kid." The voice came from behind him but Donovan didn't have the energy to move his head. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The operation you've just disrupted?" Heavy footfalls came up and circled him until he stood just to the side of the drained hero, "And all because of some idiot kid." The man snorted and lashed out a kick to the side of Donovans head. The world spun from the impact as Donovan sprawled on the ground. The taste of blood filled his mouth as a sharp pain seemed to latch itself to the his face, digging deep.
From where he lay, Donovan could now see his attacker, though his vision still swam from the blow. A large man, well built, covered head to toe in dark blue army fatigues. His eyes were hidden behind goggles that were tinted green and on his back was a metal case that had a cable that ran to a large scary looking rifle in his hands, the tip surging with the same blue light that had struck Donovan.
Struggling to get up, Donovan could only bareyl crawl. The man growled and kicked at Donovan again, thick soled boot connecting hard with his ribs. Then again to the head. There was a crack as one of his lens' spider-webbed from the blow. "They're going to go run now. Grant and that snotty little spawn of his. And they're going to hide. And everything we've done will be for nothing."
Donovan coughed as he tried to breath, but it was getting harder. "Wha...?" He finally managed to gasp.
The man laughed, shaking his head, "And that's the best part, isn't it? You don't even have any idea what you stumbled on." The man laid into Donovan again, kicking and stomping on him, punctuating each blow with an angry yell, "JUST. A. STUPID. IDIOTIC. KID. PLAYING. DRESS. UP!"
Donovan could only lay there, each blow sending a new meaning of pain into his lean frame. All he could taste and smell was blood as the front of his mask became saturated with it. Even if his lens wasn't cracked, it wouldn't matter as his left eye was already starting to swell shut. Breathing was getting more difficult as each gasp brought more agony than comfort. The world was getting hazier by the second.
Finally, the man stopped and stormed away, looking out a window at the workyard. "Just a kid." He muttered to himself. They stayed in silence for several minutes, save for the occasional gasp from Donovan as he struggled to stay conscious. After what seemed like an eternity, the man turned to Donovan and pulled a sidearm from his hip holster, "Normally, I'd love to unmask you, but I highly doubt you're anyone of concern." The man stopped a mere foot from Donovan and aimed the pistol at the teenagers head, "Any last words, 'hero'?"
Time seemed to freeze for Donovan. This was it. He was going to die in some warehouse of some slimey, seedy industrialist. At least Chelsea got away. He got to save someone, right? Donovan closed his good eye as he waited for the speeding death that would remove him from this world. Thoughts of his parents flashed through his head. How they would react to his death. Then to his friends in Westbrook. How he'd stupidly gone off on his own when he could have gotten help from someone. Then to Amy. The first girl he'd ever asked out. He'd ever held hands with. He'd ever kissed.
It wasn't fair.
Oddly, something Roach had told him rang through his head. Opening his eye, he looked up at his would-be killer, a surge of adrenaline filtering through his body. "Baseball bat." Donovan simply stated.
The man tilted his head in confusion, lowering the weapon a little. Taking advantage of the distraction, Donovan hit the release button inside his right gauntlet, his hand slipping out with ease. Lunging forward, Donovan swatted the muzzle of the gun away as it opened fire. The shot was impossibly loud against Donovans ear but he ignored it as he hauled his other hand, still encased in the powerless gauntlet, up and around. The metal frame connected hard with the mans face with a crack, sending him stumbling backwards.
The man rubbed his jaw and turned slowly on Donovan in disbelief. "I'm really starting to hate you kid." He spat, turning the gun on the teen again.
Donovan's fingers hit the reset switch in the left gauntlet. His chest emblem flared up with a red glow as power returned to the suit. Energy flared from the gauntlet as Donovan directed it at the man. The blast hurtled the man through the air and into a support beam, hitting it with a terrific cracking sound. Slumped to the ground, the man was unconcious, the impact tearing the strange rifle from his hand. "How do you like me now?" Donovan muttered as he finally collapsed, his adrenalie rush gone and leaving him spent.
As Donovan struggled to catch his breath, the pain in his chest returning with renewed vigor, he heard a slow clapping sound from the exit door. Torturously turning his head, he saw a massive silhoutte standing in the fading sunlight. "How do you like me now?" The giant figure repeated then laughed, "I gotta say kid, that's some pretty decent banter."
"Marc?" Donovan managed to cough out.
The figure stepped in to reveal the grey skinned giant that ran Taffer Industries security. Super strong. Invinicible. Military trained. Former hero. Marc Malone. "Yeah kid. I'm here to get you."
Donovan slowly pulled off the other gauntlet, letting out a soft moan from the exertion, "Then...dad knows?" Next came the mask, which hurt even worse. The front, where his mouth and nose would have been, was completely crimson, with specks of more peppered all over the front. The whole left side of his face stung bad.
Marc nodded, "Since day one."
The pain in his body subsided a little as the realization sank in. His dad had known this whole time. About stealing from his shop. About the suit. About his heroics. Why hadn't he said anything? Why didn't he try and stop Donovan from putting his life on the line? Instantly, Donovan knew the answer. His dad wanted Donovan to experience what it was like getting beat up. That's why he had Marc tailing him. So the giant could save Donovan if things got to far...though...
"Why didn't you stop that guy? He was going to shoot me."
Marc laughed as he helped Donovan up, "Man, I had five seconds to take that little freak out. I only need two, Donny."
That only brough a grin to Donovan, which stung a lot but still felt good. He'd seen how fast the massive man could move and it belied his size. When Marc says he only needed two seconds to stop a gunman from firing, Donovan believed him. "So what now?"
"Now? We get you to a hospital. Then, you get to talk to your dad."
"Is he mad?" Donovan asked, though he knew it was a pointless question.
"Oh, he's in a mood alright. I don't envy you kid." Marc replied as he helped Donovan out the door.
As he went about tagging them for prison transport, he felt something watching him. It was a feeling he'd been getting a lot lately but he'd always dismissed it as high school paranoia. However, it was getting quite intense in the silent warehouse. Looking behind him, Donovan barely had time to register the attack before it came. Blue light filled his vision and he could feel the energy being pulled out of his body. It was like he'd walked up to Nilesh and gave him a big hug hello. The suit let out a dying hum as it powered down. The weight of the gauntlets forced Donovan to his knees as his body seemed to lose all control over itself. It was a struggle to even keep his eyes open.
"You stupid, annoying, nosey little kid." The voice came from behind him but Donovan didn't have the energy to move his head. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The operation you've just disrupted?" Heavy footfalls came up and circled him until he stood just to the side of the drained hero, "And all because of some idiot kid." The man snorted and lashed out a kick to the side of Donovans head. The world spun from the impact as Donovan sprawled on the ground. The taste of blood filled his mouth as a sharp pain seemed to latch itself to the his face, digging deep.
From where he lay, Donovan could now see his attacker, though his vision still swam from the blow. A large man, well built, covered head to toe in dark blue army fatigues. His eyes were hidden behind goggles that were tinted green and on his back was a metal case that had a cable that ran to a large scary looking rifle in his hands, the tip surging with the same blue light that had struck Donovan.
Struggling to get up, Donovan could only bareyl crawl. The man growled and kicked at Donovan again, thick soled boot connecting hard with his ribs. Then again to the head. There was a crack as one of his lens' spider-webbed from the blow. "They're going to go run now. Grant and that snotty little spawn of his. And they're going to hide. And everything we've done will be for nothing."
Donovan coughed as he tried to breath, but it was getting harder. "Wha...?" He finally managed to gasp.
The man laughed, shaking his head, "And that's the best part, isn't it? You don't even have any idea what you stumbled on." The man laid into Donovan again, kicking and stomping on him, punctuating each blow with an angry yell, "JUST. A. STUPID. IDIOTIC. KID. PLAYING. DRESS. UP!"
Donovan could only lay there, each blow sending a new meaning of pain into his lean frame. All he could taste and smell was blood as the front of his mask became saturated with it. Even if his lens wasn't cracked, it wouldn't matter as his left eye was already starting to swell shut. Breathing was getting more difficult as each gasp brought more agony than comfort. The world was getting hazier by the second.
Finally, the man stopped and stormed away, looking out a window at the workyard. "Just a kid." He muttered to himself. They stayed in silence for several minutes, save for the occasional gasp from Donovan as he struggled to stay conscious. After what seemed like an eternity, the man turned to Donovan and pulled a sidearm from his hip holster, "Normally, I'd love to unmask you, but I highly doubt you're anyone of concern." The man stopped a mere foot from Donovan and aimed the pistol at the teenagers head, "Any last words, 'hero'?"
Time seemed to freeze for Donovan. This was it. He was going to die in some warehouse of some slimey, seedy industrialist. At least Chelsea got away. He got to save someone, right? Donovan closed his good eye as he waited for the speeding death that would remove him from this world. Thoughts of his parents flashed through his head. How they would react to his death. Then to his friends in Westbrook. How he'd stupidly gone off on his own when he could have gotten help from someone. Then to Amy. The first girl he'd ever asked out. He'd ever held hands with. He'd ever kissed.
It wasn't fair.
Oddly, something Roach had told him rang through his head. Opening his eye, he looked up at his would-be killer, a surge of adrenaline filtering through his body. "Baseball bat." Donovan simply stated.
The man tilted his head in confusion, lowering the weapon a little. Taking advantage of the distraction, Donovan hit the release button inside his right gauntlet, his hand slipping out with ease. Lunging forward, Donovan swatted the muzzle of the gun away as it opened fire. The shot was impossibly loud against Donovans ear but he ignored it as he hauled his other hand, still encased in the powerless gauntlet, up and around. The metal frame connected hard with the mans face with a crack, sending him stumbling backwards.
The man rubbed his jaw and turned slowly on Donovan in disbelief. "I'm really starting to hate you kid." He spat, turning the gun on the teen again.
Donovan's fingers hit the reset switch in the left gauntlet. His chest emblem flared up with a red glow as power returned to the suit. Energy flared from the gauntlet as Donovan directed it at the man. The blast hurtled the man through the air and into a support beam, hitting it with a terrific cracking sound. Slumped to the ground, the man was unconcious, the impact tearing the strange rifle from his hand. "How do you like me now?" Donovan muttered as he finally collapsed, his adrenalie rush gone and leaving him spent.
As Donovan struggled to catch his breath, the pain in his chest returning with renewed vigor, he heard a slow clapping sound from the exit door. Torturously turning his head, he saw a massive silhoutte standing in the fading sunlight. "How do you like me now?" The giant figure repeated then laughed, "I gotta say kid, that's some pretty decent banter."
"Marc?" Donovan managed to cough out.
The figure stepped in to reveal the grey skinned giant that ran Taffer Industries security. Super strong. Invinicible. Military trained. Former hero. Marc Malone. "Yeah kid. I'm here to get you."
Donovan slowly pulled off the other gauntlet, letting out a soft moan from the exertion, "Then...dad knows?" Next came the mask, which hurt even worse. The front, where his mouth and nose would have been, was completely crimson, with specks of more peppered all over the front. The whole left side of his face stung bad.
Marc nodded, "Since day one."
The pain in his body subsided a little as the realization sank in. His dad had known this whole time. About stealing from his shop. About the suit. About his heroics. Why hadn't he said anything? Why didn't he try and stop Donovan from putting his life on the line? Instantly, Donovan knew the answer. His dad wanted Donovan to experience what it was like getting beat up. That's why he had Marc tailing him. So the giant could save Donovan if things got to far...though...
"Why didn't you stop that guy? He was going to shoot me."
Marc laughed as he helped Donovan up, "Man, I had five seconds to take that little freak out. I only need two, Donny."
That only brough a grin to Donovan, which stung a lot but still felt good. He'd seen how fast the massive man could move and it belied his size. When Marc says he only needed two seconds to stop a gunman from firing, Donovan believed him. "So what now?"
"Now? We get you to a hospital. Then, you get to talk to your dad."
"Is he mad?" Donovan asked, though he knew it was a pointless question.
"Oh, he's in a mood alright. I don't envy you kid." Marc replied as he helped Donovan out the door.
Re: Other Casualties
Donovan sat on the bed in the hospital room, carefully unwrapping the bandage on his right shoulder. Apparently, when he'd taken his last horrah swing at the mystery man, the shot grazed him. Fortunately, it was only a flesh wound and doctors were able to heal it with medi-port tech, along with his cracked ribs and broken nose. Unfortunately, the heavy bruising would stay for a while. There was only so much that Rikti technology could do after all. Donovan's body would still need to get rest and food to heal itself. The swelling in his left eye had also gone down, allowing him to see again. Slowly stretching his right arm forward, he winced and hissed as his muscles complained loudly. It still hurt to breath but at least he could still do that. It meant that he was still alive and that was a good way to start the day.
"I don't miss that." Marc commented from the chair he was sitting in, though that was a relative term. More like dominated with his massive form. It didn't even seem possible for him to fit between the arm rests, but the giant mutant did it. "Those aches and pains. You never quite get used to them."
Donovan didn't say anything as he tenderly pulled his t-shirt on. While he'd been visiting the doctor, Marc had someone bring in a change of clothes from his old room at the house. The MASH-2 suit was completely blown as well as torn in a number of places his attacker had struck. Donovan wasn't even sure if the blood stains would ever come out. Not that it mattered much at this point.
Marc studied the younger mutant for a moment before speaking up. "You ready?"
Honestly, Donovan didn't think he'd ever really be ready. Before he'd been all gung-ho about confronting his parents on what he wanted, but after this little near-death experience, he knew that he didn't have a leg to stand on. Still though, he couldn't put it off forever. With more conviction than he felt, Donovan nodded. "Yeah. Let's get this over with."
Marc pulled out a phone and hit speed dial. Almost immediately, someone picked up. "Yeah, he's doing alright. He's ready to talk to you now." Marc talked into the cell, then put it on speaker phone before setting it done. With a nod of good luck, he left the room, leaving Donovan alone with the cell phone.
At first, nobody said anything. Finally, the voice of his father rose up from the phone. "Donovan. I trust you understand what this is about?"
Donovan only nodded, then realized that his father couldn't see him. "Yes sir."
"Well, let's go over it anyways, just for clarity." Max Taffer responded, "First you disobey us, endanger yourself and damage a delicate piece of equipment. Then, you disobey your mother and I, steal from my company, go behind our back and do hero work in secret, get yourself involved in something you didn't understand at all and nearly get yourself killed. Again."
Donovan started to speak up to defend himself, but his father cut him off. "I'm not done yet. To top it all off. To finish off this list of things you've done..." Suddenly the door to his room opened and his father stepped in, cell phone in his hand and a rueful grin on his face, "You just had to go and prove me wrong." His fathers unannounced appearance stunned Donovan into silence that he didn't register what he'd heard right away. Finally, it sunk in and all Donovan could do was respond rather intelligently, "Huh?" Had his father really admitted that he was wrong? What did that mean?
The grin turned into a good-natured smile as his father sat down beside Donovan, gently putting an arm around his son. "Pat is with his daughter right now. From what she's told police and Marc's told me, she'd be dead if you hadn't of shown up. Because of you and you're refusal to step down, Chelsea is home safe and sound." A warm hand gave Donovan's shoulder a slight reassuring squeeze, "I see what you were talking about before. And I agree with you."
Donovan could only sit and stare at his father, his mind refusing to accept what the information it'd received. "So...wait, what?"
"You made your point, Don. You can help people and will do whatever you have to do that." His father looked at Donovan with pride and respect, "And I'm sorry I didn't see that before. I'm real proud of you."
Tears welled up in Donovans eyes and he hugged his father tightly, who returned the embrace. All the turmoil and anger over the past few weeks slipped away in that moment as Donovan felt like he had his father back. While it was true that his parents might be too busy to attend every function or do the things that other parents did, they always made sure that they were there for him when he needed them most. The moment seemed to last forever, but it still wasn't long enough for Donovan when they finally seperated. Wiping his eyes, Donovan realized something, "What are you doing here anyways? I thought you guys were at some private meeting?"
His father nodded with a secret smile, "We are. We're privately meeting with our son to discuss his future. Marc has been keeping me up to date with your adventures and I was already on my way here to talk to you when you go involved with this Jennings fiasco. After all was said and done, we decided that you'd earned your right to be a hero, if you still want it of course."
Donovan nodded, "Of course I do. But mom is okay with this?"
Max laughed, "Oh no way. She wanted to haul you out of Westbrook and cart you off to Switzerland. I had to go to bat for you to convince her otherwise. Just do me a favor and try not to end up in the hospital too often, hm?"
"Right right," Donovan said with a nod and a smile, "So does that mean MASH is...?"
"Fixed and ready to go. I had Argust rebuilding it shortly after Marc started sending me intel. With a few improvements."
Donovan was dumbfounded again. MASH-1 was back. Part of him knew he'd miss actually being on the frontline, but the rest of him looked forward to piloting the little drone again. It was an addictive experience, have that much power all at once. While wearing his suit, he could only use it as a tool. But as MASH-1, he was the power and the power was him. It was almost indescribable.
"I have a question though," Max asked, a puzzle look crossing his face, "Marc told me that your 'last words' were baseball bat. Why that?"
A wry smile crossed Donovans lips. The left side of his face twinged from the pain, but Donovan ignored it, "It was something a friend of mine told me at school. It was something along the lines of 'either it's a tech suit or a baseball bat, you always find a way to do what you have to'. It really stuck with me."
"And probably saved your life." Max nodded in agreement. Standing up, he helped his son to his feet, "So, let's go let your mother fuss over you for a bit then we'll get some food, hm? Maybe take in a show or something?"
"Don't you have any meetings or business today?"
"I always have business to take care off, Don. But my son's a hero today. The rest of the world can wait."
"I don't miss that." Marc commented from the chair he was sitting in, though that was a relative term. More like dominated with his massive form. It didn't even seem possible for him to fit between the arm rests, but the giant mutant did it. "Those aches and pains. You never quite get used to them."
Donovan didn't say anything as he tenderly pulled his t-shirt on. While he'd been visiting the doctor, Marc had someone bring in a change of clothes from his old room at the house. The MASH-2 suit was completely blown as well as torn in a number of places his attacker had struck. Donovan wasn't even sure if the blood stains would ever come out. Not that it mattered much at this point.
Marc studied the younger mutant for a moment before speaking up. "You ready?"
Honestly, Donovan didn't think he'd ever really be ready. Before he'd been all gung-ho about confronting his parents on what he wanted, but after this little near-death experience, he knew that he didn't have a leg to stand on. Still though, he couldn't put it off forever. With more conviction than he felt, Donovan nodded. "Yeah. Let's get this over with."
Marc pulled out a phone and hit speed dial. Almost immediately, someone picked up. "Yeah, he's doing alright. He's ready to talk to you now." Marc talked into the cell, then put it on speaker phone before setting it done. With a nod of good luck, he left the room, leaving Donovan alone with the cell phone.
At first, nobody said anything. Finally, the voice of his father rose up from the phone. "Donovan. I trust you understand what this is about?"
Donovan only nodded, then realized that his father couldn't see him. "Yes sir."
"Well, let's go over it anyways, just for clarity." Max Taffer responded, "First you disobey us, endanger yourself and damage a delicate piece of equipment. Then, you disobey your mother and I, steal from my company, go behind our back and do hero work in secret, get yourself involved in something you didn't understand at all and nearly get yourself killed. Again."
Donovan started to speak up to defend himself, but his father cut him off. "I'm not done yet. To top it all off. To finish off this list of things you've done..." Suddenly the door to his room opened and his father stepped in, cell phone in his hand and a rueful grin on his face, "You just had to go and prove me wrong." His fathers unannounced appearance stunned Donovan into silence that he didn't register what he'd heard right away. Finally, it sunk in and all Donovan could do was respond rather intelligently, "Huh?" Had his father really admitted that he was wrong? What did that mean?
The grin turned into a good-natured smile as his father sat down beside Donovan, gently putting an arm around his son. "Pat is with his daughter right now. From what she's told police and Marc's told me, she'd be dead if you hadn't of shown up. Because of you and you're refusal to step down, Chelsea is home safe and sound." A warm hand gave Donovan's shoulder a slight reassuring squeeze, "I see what you were talking about before. And I agree with you."
Donovan could only sit and stare at his father, his mind refusing to accept what the information it'd received. "So...wait, what?"
"You made your point, Don. You can help people and will do whatever you have to do that." His father looked at Donovan with pride and respect, "And I'm sorry I didn't see that before. I'm real proud of you."
Tears welled up in Donovans eyes and he hugged his father tightly, who returned the embrace. All the turmoil and anger over the past few weeks slipped away in that moment as Donovan felt like he had his father back. While it was true that his parents might be too busy to attend every function or do the things that other parents did, they always made sure that they were there for him when he needed them most. The moment seemed to last forever, but it still wasn't long enough for Donovan when they finally seperated. Wiping his eyes, Donovan realized something, "What are you doing here anyways? I thought you guys were at some private meeting?"
His father nodded with a secret smile, "We are. We're privately meeting with our son to discuss his future. Marc has been keeping me up to date with your adventures and I was already on my way here to talk to you when you go involved with this Jennings fiasco. After all was said and done, we decided that you'd earned your right to be a hero, if you still want it of course."
Donovan nodded, "Of course I do. But mom is okay with this?"
Max laughed, "Oh no way. She wanted to haul you out of Westbrook and cart you off to Switzerland. I had to go to bat for you to convince her otherwise. Just do me a favor and try not to end up in the hospital too often, hm?"
"Right right," Donovan said with a nod and a smile, "So does that mean MASH is...?"
"Fixed and ready to go. I had Argust rebuilding it shortly after Marc started sending me intel. With a few improvements."
Donovan was dumbfounded again. MASH-1 was back. Part of him knew he'd miss actually being on the frontline, but the rest of him looked forward to piloting the little drone again. It was an addictive experience, have that much power all at once. While wearing his suit, he could only use it as a tool. But as MASH-1, he was the power and the power was him. It was almost indescribable.
"I have a question though," Max asked, a puzzle look crossing his face, "Marc told me that your 'last words' were baseball bat. Why that?"
A wry smile crossed Donovans lips. The left side of his face twinged from the pain, but Donovan ignored it, "It was something a friend of mine told me at school. It was something along the lines of 'either it's a tech suit or a baseball bat, you always find a way to do what you have to'. It really stuck with me."
"And probably saved your life." Max nodded in agreement. Standing up, he helped his son to his feet, "So, let's go let your mother fuss over you for a bit then we'll get some food, hm? Maybe take in a show or something?"
"Don't you have any meetings or business today?"
"I always have business to take care off, Don. But my son's a hero today. The rest of the world can wait."
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