Chapter 7
The convoy of cars moved silently through the streets of outer Brooklyn. In the central car, protected by layers of armor, Felicia Hardy watched the boarded-up storefronts and graffiti-covered walls slide by. She had returned from Europe only a few hours ago and could already feel how much her home city had changed.
"Dmitri, are we almost there?" she asked, not taking her eyes from the window.
The head of security, sitting in the front passenger seat, looked in the rearview mirror. "Almost, Miss Hardy. We're taking a detour, staying off the main streets. It's safer this way."
At that exact moment, the lead car smoothly slowed and stopped. Fifty yards ahead, a barricade of burning trash cans blocked the narrow street. From the alleys and doorways, people began to emerge. Each had a red cloth tied around their arm, and in the car's headlights, the steel of pistols and several automatic rifles glinted darkly.
Dmitri assessed the situation instantly. This wasn't a random crowd of protestors; it was a targeted, well-equipped ambush on a quiet street they had taken specifically to avoid trouble. The obvious conclusion was that someone had leaked their route.
"All units, code 10-33!" His voice into the collar mic was calm and clear. "We have an ambush at the corner of Bristol and Dumont. I repeat, ambush. Requesting backup."
He turned to the driver. "Turn around! We're getting out through that alley! Now!" Simultaneously, he gave an order to the rest of the convoy over the radio: "Cars one and two—engage! Turn broadside, create cover!"
The drivers of the front sedans, bulletproof and reinforced, acted without hesitation. With a squeal of tires, the cars spun perpendicular to the street, turning into a makeshift barrier. Guards piled out, taking positions and opening return fire on the attackers.
While the firefight erupted ahead, the driver cranked the wheel, and the heavy car shot forward, tearing into a narrow, dark alley, trying to escape the kill box. But it didn't last long. After flying down the narrow passage, he slammed on the brakes with a squeal, facing a dead end. A brick wall blocked the path.
"Out! We run from here!" Dmitri commanded, jumping out of the car and opening the door for Felicia.
She didn't need to be told. Felicia had dedicated most of her conscious life to gymnastics, and for the last few years in Europe, she had taken up parkour. Running through urban terrain wasn't a problem for her. The people chasing her were.
The sounds of the firefight fell behind, but new silhouettes were already appearing at the exit of the alley ahead. Dmitri stayed behind to cover their retreat. "Don't look back! Run!"
Felicia ran. Another dead end loomed ahead, this one final. An untrained person would have been trapped. But without slowing, she jumped onto the lid of a dumpster, pushed off the metal, pulled herself up, and grabbed the bottom rung of a fire escape. A few more practiced movements, and she was on the roof. It didn't change much. High in the night sky, a drone hovered. Its lens tracked her every move, feeding coordinates to her pursuers.
She froze for a second, catching her breath, trying to get her bearings. Where to run? The labyrinth of rooftops was unfamiliar and dangerous. She chose a direction to the left, toward a lower building, but stopped short.
On the edge of the roof, in the shadow of a vent pipe, sat an all-black cat. It looked at her and meowed quietly. An unexplainable feeling arose that she should follow it. Without thinking, she changed her route.
The cat leaped easily to the roof of the next building, and she followed. It moved with confidence, showing her safe paths, places to jump, and solid ledges. This made the escape significantly easier. Doing parkour in an unfamiliar area was suicide, but with this strange guide, she moved quickly and precisely. The drone operator, however, wasn't paying attention to the cat. He only saw the target's trajectory and easily calculated her future path.
When Felicia landed on the wide, flat roof of the next building, two men stepped out from behind a ventilation unit. Before she could react, one of them, a massive, bearded man, grabbed her by the shoulders. "Gotcha, little bird."
"Let go, you asshole!" She didn't hesitate. The toe of her boot slammed into his groin with all her strength. The man doubled over, gasping in pain, and his grip loosened. Not giving him time to recover, she was already winding up for a second kick, aiming her leg at his head.
But the second attacker fired. The crackle of a taser split the air, and Felicia's body was seized by a convulsion. Her muscles locked up, and she collapsed onto the concrete. The one she had kicked slowly straightened up, spitting on the floor. "You bitch... Orders were to bring you in one piece. But for that... I think we can rough you up a bit."
The second man smirked, stepping closer. Even immobilized, lying on the dirty concrete, the girl looked impressive. Her disheveled silver hair stood out brightly in the dim light. His gaze lingered on her toned, athletic body, which even simple clothes couldn't hide, and on her firm, size-C chest, heaving from her heavy breathing. In her blue eyes, despite the tears, there was no submission. "Leave some for me. Never had such a premium-class woman."
She caught a glimpse of the black cat, which was sitting on the edge of the roof. It meowed quietly again, as if to say everything would be okay. At that moment, a new, calm voice sounded from behind the attackers. "You know, after a hit like that to your manhood, I highly doubt you'll be capable of anything at all."
They spun around. A man in a black motorcycle helmet that hid his entire face stood in the shadows. An invisible force pressed them to the concrete roof, crushing them into the hard surface. Felicia froze, lying on her side. The electricity still had her muscles spasming, but her mind was working. A mutant had appeared. She had fallen from one trap into another, even more unpredictable one. There was no way to know if this man was a savior, or just a bigger predator than the other two.
The helmeted figure walked closer. "You said she had to be in one piece. And judging by the mess down on the street, you started a real bloodbath for her. So I have a couple of questions." A Glock appeared from his waistband. Its barrel was aimed directly between the eyes of the two prone bandits. "Who do you work for? And why do you need her?"
The one Felicia had kicked spat blood and smirked viciously. "Go fuck yourself, you half-assed mutant."
The man in the helmet made a sound like a sigh and raised a hand to scratch the back of his head, but his fingers tapped against smooth plastic. He awkwardly lowered his hand. "Fine. I see you don't need your junk anymore. I hope your partner is more cooperative."
The sharp crack of a gunshot echoed. The bullet entered the bearded man's thigh. Felicia instinctively squeezed her eyes shut. "A-A-A-A-A!" "Oops, I missed," the man in the helmet said without a trace of regret. "But next time, I'll definitely hit your little pickles." His partner began to struggle under the invisible weight. "Okay, okay! Don't! I'll tell you everything!" "Talk." "We had a job—grab her! Just grab her, that's it! To blackmail her mother!" "What does her mother do?" "How the hell should I know!" his voice was breaking with fear. "All I know is she's a billionaire!"
The man in the helmet turned his head toward Felicia. If not for the helmet, you would have seen him studying her thoughtfully. "Alright. And who do you work for?" The bandit fell silent, breathing heavily. He swallowed. "I can't say. If they find out... and they will find out... our families are dead. You're better off killing me. Just make it quick."
"Well, then make it so they don't find out," the mutant's voice became conspiratorial, almost friendly. "Help me, and everything will be fine." "There's a drone! In the sky!" he blurted out. "It sees everything! Shoot it down, and then I'll talk!" The man in the helmet froze for a moment. "Hmm, that would be... short-sighted," his voice was now openly mocking. "If I shoot down the drone I'm not supposed to know about, they'll immediately realize you ratted it out. Let's play a scene instead. I'll 'torture' you, and you, unbroken by the pain, will resist."
"No, don't!" Genuine terror was in the prisoner's voice. "Yes, we must," the mutant cut him off.
Felicia watched the whole scene. She didn't know if she should relax in the presence of this strange savior, or be even more afraid of him. After the "torture," it was revealed that they worked for the "Maggia"—an old Italian crime syndicate made up of several warring families that controlled smuggling and arms trafficking. He got answers to all the key questions: who was responsible for which territory, what establishments they "protected," who was at the top of the food chain. He had no intention of saving these two. They had chosen this life, and only now were the consequences catching up.
After learning everything he needed, the helmeted figure turned and slowly walked over to Felicia. She squeezed her eyes shut in fear. What could she do against a mutant who so cold-bloodedly maimed people? A gloved finger poked her in the forehead. "Relax. Unfortunately for you... or maybe fortunately, depending on how you look at it... I don't have a rape fetish. I could let you go, but, as that poor bastard said,"—he nodded at the half-dead bandit—"you're a very rich woman's daughter."
Felicia slowly exhaled. He wanted money. That was an understandable and solvable problem. "How much do you want?" "Hmm, let's see," the voice from under the helmet sounded thoughtful. "Your life was saved. What do you value it at?" She hesitated for only a second. "A million?"
The man in the helmet made a sound like a suppressed cough. "Kha... That's too much. I need cash. Something I can get and use quickly. I think a hundred thousand dollars will be enough." The conversation stalled. One was thinking about how someone could just offer a million dollars. To be honest, he was ashamed to even ask for a hundred thousand. The other was thinking about who in their right mind refuses a million.
"What are you going to do with them?" she asked, nodding at the bandits. "Dump them near a police station? I don't know. I don't really care." "My mother will want to talk to them," businesslike notes entered Felicia's voice. "I'll pay ten thousand for each." The helmeted figure shrugged. "Fine. In that case, let's just 'fly' all of you to your house."
Before she could ask what he meant, the air in front of her shimmered and wove itself into a perfect cube of translucent purple barrier. The man in the helmet made an inviting gesture. "Ladies first."
Felicia hesitantly stepped inside. The two immobilized bodies were tossed into the cube after her. He was the last one in. The construct silently lifted off the roof and flew over the night city toward the Hardy estate.
---
Lydia Hardy was pacing her house, pressing a phone to her ear. On the other end, Dmitri, her daughter's head of security, was reporting the aftermath of the ambush: two of his men were dead, three wounded, the attackers were neutralized, but Felicia... was missing. At that moment, another voice cut in from the internal intercom. "Ma'am, Miss Hardy is at the main gate." "Then let her in!" Lydia snapped. "But... ma'am, she's not alone," the guard at the gate sounded uncertain. "She's with some mutant. And two wounded men."
Lydia froze for a moment. "I'm on my way."
The massive gates slowly rolled open. Felicia saw her mother standing on the steps of the mansion and ran into her arms. Lydia held her daughter tightly, but their reunion was interrupted. "This is all very touching, but let's have you pay the hundred and twenty thousand so I can go. There's still so much to see in the city tonight." "What money?" Lydia pulled back from her daughter, her gaze taking in the man in the helmet and the two captives. "And who are these men?" The man in the helmet sighed, realizing this wouldn't be quick. Felicia began to recount the events of the last few hours.
Later, in her room, dressed in a silk robe, she lay on her enormous bed and stared at the ceiling. She felt weak. All her training, the guards, her mother's money—it had all been useless. She had just gotten lucky that a strange cat showed her the way, and an even stranger mutant decided to help. As if in answer to her thoughts, the very same black cat jumped silently onto her bed. "Who are you?" Felicia whispered, reaching out a hand to pet it. Her fingers passed right through it, meeting no resistance.
The cat jumped off the bed, looked back, and meowed, beckoning her to follow. It was clearly something supernatural, but it had saved her life. So, she followed it. Wandering through the mansion's corridors, the cat stopped at a wall in the old wing of the house and rubbed against it. Faintly glowing symbols appeared on the wallpaper, and the wall slid open soundlessly, revealing a secret staircase leading down.
At the bottom, she found herself in a small, hidden room that wasn't on any of the house plans. The room was ascetic: bare walls, and in the middle, a massive steel table. On its surface lay a letter and two ornate caskets. Approaching, she began to read.
"Dear Daughter, You may not remember me, but I have never forgotten you. I had hoped you would never find this place, but since you are here, it means a situation has occurred in your life that made you realize you are weak. And in that situation, my final ritual must have led you here. (She glanced at the cat, which was now sitting on the table, and continued reading). This world is unimaginably dangerous. I know this because I was one of those who knows most of its secrets. By the way, I am the greatest thief in the history of this world—the Sorcerer Supreme told me so herself. But that's not the point. What I'm getting at is that there are many powerful monsters hiding in the shadows, and I could not leave you defenseless.
On the table are two caskets. In the first is the original super-soldier serum. Remember: there are no more like it, and there never will be. The Sorcerer Supreme placed a veto on the formula and erased it from the minds of all who knew it. So, maybe a forgotten vial is lying around somewhere, but a new one can never be created. The myth is that the serum grants peak human abilities, but that's only part of the truth. Its essence is that it rebuilds the body, making it a perfect conductor. You will be able to easily learn Chi, magic, and other forms of energy. Though, you will have to find the training methods yourself.
In the second casket is my greatest theft. A four-leaf clover that I swiped from a very powerful voodoo priest. There is a minuscule chance that something will go wrong when you take the serum. Therefore, before you inject it, you must eat this leaf. It is active for 24 hours—by which time the serum should be fully absorbed. Its power is that it briefly selects and realizes the best possible future scenario. The probability of a negative effect from the serum will become zero.
You may get the impression that I am all-powerful and just hiding somewhere. But that is not true. I am really dead. Good luck, kitten. P.S. Look after your mother."
"Thanks, Dad," Felicia whispered.