Michael Carroll - Absolute Power

This book is dedicated to a real hero:

Adam Dodson

Cover Page

Title Page The New Heroes Absolute Power Michael Carroll

Dedication This book is dedicated to a real hero: Adam Dodson

TEN YEARS EARLIER…

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EPILOGUE

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HER EYES STREAMINGfrom the smoke that billowed from the burning battle-tank, Energy limped across the shrapnel-strewn battlefield to where Titan was sitting propped up against an overturned jeep. The hero was tearing his blue cape into strips – he’d already used several to bind a stick to his broken right leg.

He looked up as Energy approached. “Hey…You OK?”

“I’ll live.” Holding on to the jeep to steady herself, Energy carefully lowered herself down next to him. “Just so you know, the medics are bringing their own bandages.”

Titan forced a smile. “Had to keep busy. Didn’t want to pass out.”

“So, did we win or lose today?”

Titan dropped the shredded cape and took hold of her hand. “I don’t think that’s something we’re going to know for a long time.”

Energy nodded, then paused. “Diamond didn’t make it. She was in her crystalline form when it happened. Without her powers, she wasn’t able to change back.”

“God…What was her name? Her real name?”

“She never told me. Max said he didn’t know either.”

“How are we going to find her family, tell them what happened?”

Energy didn’t answer.

Titan leaned his head back against the jeep. “She was just a kid.”

“I know.”

A voice called, “So how are you guys doing?”

They looked up to see Paragon striding towards them.

“We’re alive,” Energy said. “Thanks to you.”

“That’s all part of the job description.” Paragon unclipped his jetpack and checked a tiny read-out on the back. “Damn. Left thruster’s just about blown. Not that it’s worth repairing now. If it’s true that you superhumans have all lost your powers, then I’m going to quit the business too.”

Titan began, “No, you should—”

Paragon raised his hand to his helmet. “Hold it…Go ahead, Max…Got it. I’m on the way.” Slinging his jetpack back into place, he said to Energy and Titan, “He thinks they’ve just found Ragnarök’s base.”

He soared into the sky.

Energy activated her communicator. “Paragon, you’re crazy! You can’t go after him without your armour!”

His voice came back. “Dioxin destroyed most of it. But maybe he did me a favour; the armour slows me down. Without it, I can get there a lot faster.”

“I’m on the way, Max,” Paragon said. “Tell me everything.”

“Ragnarök’s battle-tank was built a hundred and fifty kilometres west of here, big warehouse outside Westmoreland. My people have been checking the satellite images and traffic records. Their analysis shows a large SUV making regular trips between the warehouse and Sherman’s Bay, Chatauqua Lake. Same SUV came back today, arrived in the warehouse an hour before the battle-tank emerged.”

Paragon said, “Max, that doesn’t mean it was Ragnarök!”

“They also detected a vapour trail from Ragnarök’s escape craft going in the same direction. They were able to pick it up by analysing—”

“Skip the details,” Paragon interrupted. “Just give me the exact location.”

“I’m sending you the coordinates now.”

Paragon glanced at the map that was projected on to the inside of his visor. “I see it.”

“Checking it against the city’s ordnance database. It’s…Good Lord…It’s an apartment block. We’ve been searching for this maniac for years and he’s been living in an ordinary apartment block!”

The army ambulance raced over the rough ground, hit a furrow and bounced. Inside, lying on the stretcher, Titan gasped as the pain in his right leg flared up again.

“Take it easy up there!” Energy called to the driver. She turned back to Titan and checked the temporary splint on his leg. “You OK?”

Titan gritted his teeth. “Not really.”

The truck bounced again and Energy grabbed a handrail to steady herself. “You’re going to be off your feet for the next few months.”

“I know.” He nodded. “Look, if our powers never come back—”

“We’ll survive.”

“Yeah, but—”

The ambulance swerved sharply to the left.

“Hey!” Energy shouted. “Watch where you’re going!”

“That wasn’t me !” the driver called back. “Something hit—”

Titan was thrown from the stretcher as the explosion ripped through the side wall of the ambulance.

“Paragon, this is General Piers. Back-up is about ten minutes behind you.”

“I’m not waiting,” Paragon said. The visor’s readouts showed that the jetpack’s shuddering was caused by the left thruster. Just hope I can get there before this thing shuts down completely.

He dropped down to fifty metres – high enough to avoid the power-lines, but not as low as he’d have preferred to fly with a malfunctioning jetpack. He knew that even if he’d still had his armour, hitting the ground from this height would be fatal.

OK. There it is. The visor’s map showed the apartment block less than a kilometre ahead.

The homes and gardens of Sherman’s Bay streamed by below him as Paragon steered himself towards the building.

“General, I can’t see the craft…Either he’s already gone or—” Paragon’s jetpack suddenly sputtered, lurching him to the left. “Hell. Jetpack’s on the way out!”

“Pull out, Paragon!”

“No, it can run on only two thrusters…” The apartment block loomed up ahead. “Just not very well.” Paragon angled upwards, slowing as he neared the roof, and switched his helmet to infrared. “I’m getting two heat patterns in there. Neither of them big enough to be Ragnarök. Could be pets. General, better get your people to widen the search radius. Ragnarök’s long gone.” He touched down on the building’s flat roof. “What’s the intel on this place?”

“He’s been living in the penthouse apartment for six years,” Piers replied. “Seems that the building manager thought he was a European rock star living in tax exile. Paid them a lot of money to leave him alone.”

Paragon stopped in front of the door to the stairway and pulled a small device from a pouch on his belt. “Scanning…I’m picking up a lot of sensors on the door. Could be booby-trapped. I’ll check the windows.” He walked to the edge of the roof and stepped off, activating his jetpack at the same time.

He hovered in front of one of the large windows. “Sensors on the window, too…The infrared shows—”

The general’s voice barked, “Paragon! We’ve just heard that the ambulance carrying Titan and Energy has been hit! It’s Ragnarök!”

“Damn it! All right, I’ll…Oh my God…That can’t be right!”

“What is it?”

Paragon didn’t reply. He aimed his armour’s grappling gun and fired it directly at the window. The small but heavy hook ploughed through the thick glass, showering the room inside with crystal fragments.