Capítulo 32: Not The Usual Homecoming
Meanwhile, somewhere in Russia…
"Mr Dimitri Makovsvet, an honor to see you here, sir!" the sentinel bowed and entered the passcode into an input panel.
The secret lab door slowly slid apart and shut tight as the bulky man wearing a thick jacket with a hood entered. The hood covered most of his face, except for a small part of his albino white hair.
The airlock took a moment's pause and the other lab door slid apart. Although Dimitri was a heavy fellow, his footsteps never left any mark and could hardly be heard. His ghostly pale appearance and red eyes made him look more aggressive and fearsome than he actually was.
He stepped along a corridor lit with glowing floorboards. With each step he took, the floorboards glowed white and as he left, the usual bluish glow returned.
Dimitri turned round a corner, down some stairs and put his hand on a biometric scanner. The door to lab no. 35 slid apart.
Inside, it was every scientist's dream workplace: computers, test tubes, tables, chairs, turbines, air conditioning, instruments, everything, Behind an LED screen, sitting on a plush armchair, was a girl of Amy's age (26 years). She had red sideswept hair, Chic glasses, a slender torso… well, she looked just like a twin of Amethyst Catt.
"Rochelle," Makovsvet called out to her.
"Y-yes?" his sudden appearance had somehow startled her. "Ghost Walker, is that you?"
She got off the chair to greet him. She even wore the same velvet Amy had been wearing, except the fact that Rochelle's one was white, while hers was purple.
"How are things going, hon? Any news on the Kor Ondrone?"
"Um, yes… but," she typed something on the keyboard and pressed 'Enter'. The LED screen displayed a 'No Signal' error message. "Looks like someone has destroyed the thing."
"WHAT?!!" he shoved her aside like a domino. "How can this be POSSIBLE?"
"I don't know," she got back to her feet and didn't care about his rude behavior. "What're we gonna do now?"
"I'd expected you to say that!" he grinned. "Prepare a plane ticket to New York. I'm gonna plant the nukes myself!"
Rochelle had a mischievous gleam in her blue eyes. But this gleam protested against Ghost Walker's views. She walked to another chamber and typed the password into the input panel.
"Password?" the pre-recorded voice demanded.
"I've got silver-blonde hair and I hate wearing Chic glasses," she spoke the password. "Extract the three nukes."
"NUKE 1: ALTANOR, NUKE 2: BETAPHYL, NUKE 3: DELTALOL. COMMAND COMPLETE."
Rochelle Lisby had half a mind to hand them over to her superior; and half a mind to save the world.
***
Hey, where's Cooper Black? The last time we found him being thrown off by the news van's explosion. The marines kicked him in the face and he kicked them in their groins. He had tried to get back up but one of the muscular guys had smacked the back of his head. And all went blank.
When he woke up, he was seated in a large gunship – the type that have a rear door-like flap that can be lowered. No lights, except for the reddish glow of two pairs of fluorescents.
"Get up, you!" a thug poked at him. "C'mon up, we've got lots of stuff to do!"
Cooper tried to regain his strength but he felt dizzy, like he had been knocked out for 3 days. He noticed a heap of US military uniforms. Oh, wow! The marines had been demoted to street thugs or was it the other way around? Let's just say, the thugs had been in disguise as marines, fake marines that is.
"Here, wear this if you don't want your head to become mashed like potatoes," the thug handed him a helmet shaped like a medieval knight's helm. Nice, now people were going to laugh at him than fear him.
"Wear this as well, a communication device," the thug handed Black what looked like bull's horns stuck on a hairband. He thought it was ridiculous but when the other four thugs also wore the same strange gadget, he atleast had the courage to try it on.
Then he realized something important – his cowboy hat was gone! No hat; no identity.
The gunship's beat of rotor blades on air was deafening enough to make you develop a taste for jazz music.
"Okay now, in positions! You, bullhead!" Cooper was pretty sure the thug was referring to him. "Step over here, and wait for my signal."
Reluctantly, he did as he was told. Every weapon had been taken away from him. Nothing was left, not even his biker gloves (knuckledusters in disguise).
He joined the others in holding a grey cylindrical container-like object. They all faced towards the rear exit flap of the gunship and waited for the chief thug's orders.
"Red is on! Yellow is on! Green is on!" the thug relayed the signals from a signal indicator on his smartwatch. "Quick! Bullhead, press that button!"
Cooper did, and the rear flap slowly descended outwards. The sparkling afternoon sunlight made everyone's eyes squint.
"Ready? GO! GO! GO! GO! MOVE! MOVE!"
They all pushed the cylinder out into the open and whoa!
Since the cylinder was heavier than the men, it was falling the fastest. Free falling.
All the thugs (including Cooper Black, since he was also dressed like one) got into a spread-eagle position and glided towards the Earth.
High up in the sky they were. Wispy clouds went sailing by. It was difficult to look down below, at Manhattan. Cooper looked in the direction of the others. Everyone was scattered in a mishap pattern. Only the dark blurry silhouettes were visible of the other four. Anyways, each of them enjoyed a breathtaking ride back to their hometown: New York City.
Cooper realized that even he was wearing the same gadgets and clothing as everyone else. He checked the altitude sensor on his smartwatch.
[1400 m]
Man, that was freakingly 'high'!
[1300 m]
Okay, so their average speed was…
[1200 m]
…ow, the sunlight hit Cooper's retinas and interfered with the calculations.
[1100 m]
Their average speed was about 100 metres per second (360 kmph!). Nice speed, yo?
[1000 m]
Cooper could hear the faint chirrup of birds, the rustle of tree leaves.
[900 m]
Okay, now the worrying part arrived – how will they land?
[800 m]
The tips of the tallest skyscrapers reached out to stop them.
[700 m]
Now Cooper could not only hear but also see the hubbub of pedestrians, honking of cars and other vehicles. It was a typical day on NYC streets.
[600 m]
He searched around for a parachute. No signs of it. Wing flaps? Yeah, there were wing flaps, but he didn't know how to activate them.
[500 m]
Chances of collision: 95% Chances of survival: 0.5% Chances of being filmed on a news channel: 4.5%
[400 m]
Cooper Black rolled sideways midair, to dodge a NYPD helicopter just taking off.
[300 m]
Oh, no, this is going to be really painful.
[200 m]
Aha! Cooper found the string that activated the wing flaps when pulled.
[100 m]
He tugged on it and slowed down by 50 m/s (180 kmph).
[50 m]
Shit! He was gonna fall on top of a taxi cab. He felt his speed decreasing even more, by 25 m/s (90 kmph).
[25 m]
Uh, oh! He hoped he fell somewhere safe; not on the busy road! He had fully slowed down. And right on time: only the tip of his shoes and the tip of his knight helm touched the taxi cab's roof. He was saved from the fall, but not from the enraged cab driver.
"Oi, whaccha doin' on my damnable cab? Get off the roof, or I'll kick your ass so hard you'll be bleeding till —"
"Brother! How's up, my man, Cooper?" one of the pedestrians nearby greeted the total stranger kneeling on the roof of a yellow taxi cab.
"And who'd you think you are? Another mumbo-jumbo idiot like this bull-headed idiotic —"
When he looked at his car, Cooper was gone.
"Now where the hell did that lousy —"
When he turned to the stranger, he was gone as well.
The driver was left standing in front of his own cab; drivers of other cars and buses shouted out rude slang and taboo remarks to the driver.
"Ohh, sorry! Sorry! Really sorry!" he got back into his cab and drove out of the way, down Bellevue.
***
"How'd you recognize me?" Cooper Black yanked off the stupid horny hairband and weirdo helmet. He kept the smartwatch, though. "I thought you'd never do!"
"Don't worry, man. I know my ways around the city. And according to luck, you always show up when people are out there searching for ya," Rogue Jacob led him through an alleyway, up some stairs, a left turn, and they were now standing in front of Bellevue Hospital Center.
"Why the hospital? Anybody injured?"
"Nah, I mean… yes. Yesterday you should've been here, Black! Carl Jason had single-handedly destroyed the Kor Ondrone! Didn't you notice the changes?"
"Yeah, I noticed."
"'Kay, so any sign of Garison and Luther yet?"
"Nope. I thought you guys knew about it. By the way, where's my brother?"
"Dunno. Maybe he's gone to chase some thugs or something."
"Speaking of which…" he stared up at the sky. Clouds were gathering in an assembly. "I wonder where those marine-thugs are, and what was in that thing!"
"What thing? What thugs?"
"Oh," he had forgotten that RJ was hearing everything crawling out of his mouth. "Well, you see, during the war, some marines had attacked me. They knocked me out and dressed me in their costumes. Then they told me to push a grey cylindrical container out. I did, and that was when I lost track of the thing and also the others. I was too busy saving myself."
"Yeah, you look really beat down. Where's your hat, cowboy?"
"Um… my hat…" Cooper rubbed the back of his head, feeling embarrassed. No hat, no identity. "I'll just buy another $25 hat, no problem! I've still got about $1,169,500 in my bank account!"
His smartwatch started beeping. He held it up.
[Mick Lardo calling…]
"So, this is from Mick Lardo, huh?" he just remembered that the chief thug owed him $5000.
The sky suddenly turned dark as a fluffy grey quilt. Thunder boomed and the first raindrop fell on Cooper Black's bare head.
Estado de energía semanal
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