Just doing my job

Part 1: The U.N. Job

I don’t really know why I took this job with the UN: of the almost 7,000 ‘superhumans’ known to exist, I’m placed somewhere in the 200’s, so it’s not like I’m one of the most powerful. And it’s not like I need the money: I’m paid more than enough by my own government to keep Queen and Country safe that I’ll never have to worry about running out.

And I don’t like the way these things end up getting overly political: some of the others I’ve spoken to have said that they where given limits on what they could do, even when they where meant to be saving people. I chose this line of work because I can make a difference, and I think I should do all I can to help people.

I suppose the only positive side of this job is I get to spend more time with Charlotte. Having jobs that keep you a few thousand miles apart can be a real strain on a relationship. Add to that the never-ending media interest, and it starts to get you down.

Then again, who said marriage was going to be easy?

The major downside to this gig is I have to work with Jackson Smith: all-American hero and the biggest jackass I’ve ever met. It’s not that he isn’t good at what he does: he knows his stuff, and I trust him to watch my back in a fight, but he believes too much of his own hype. Charlotte has already said that if he makes one more pass at her by suggesting a ‘closer relationship between America and Canada’ that she’ll cripple him.

And people wonder what I see in her?

Anyway, the job was relatively easy, and nothing that could be considered immoral: some tin-pot General had taken over his West African homeland and proclaimed himself President for life. Nothing out of the ordinary, but reports started to leek out about oppression of minorities and serious breaches of human rights. And so it was eventually decided to send a team in.

The plan was to hit from two directions at once, and split the opposing forces in two before taking them out at once. I was partnered up with Duke Mackenzie, a lanky Australian pyro-kinetic who I’ve known for years.

Hell, the guy was best man at my wedding.

Duke kicked it off by incinerating enough opium poppies to make half of Europe high, and then I gave him a lift to the nearby capital while Charlotte and Captain Ego dealt with the small army that was sent to stop us.

Seeing your wife turn a Tank to slag by just glancing at it is a humbling experience for any man.

The area of the city we entered was thankfully deserted. Duke and I made our way down one of the main streets, heading towards the Presidential Palace in the centre. It was at this point we ran into the Elite Presidential Bodyguard.

By the standards of most militaries, these guys where good, maybe good enough to give most conventional armies a run for their money. But I’m no conventional army: I can lift a small cargo ship over my head, can move faster than most targeting computers can compensate for, and I’ve yet to find a conventional weapon that can even bruise me.

That said, having an office block dropped on my head hurt like hell.

By the time I’d dug myself out Duke had erected a firewall to keep the army back while I changed out of my ripped cloths. I may be invulnerable, but this job can be hard on fashion. Luckily I’d thought ahead and packed a spare T-shit and jeans into Duke’s backpack so I had something to change into.

The remaining Bodyguard units seemed to melt away, something that can be a bit disconcerting when you’re dealing with fanatical troops. I told Duke to hang back while I scouted ahead to see what was waiting for us. I got my answer at the gates to the Palace.

Mercenaries.

Like I said, there are around 7,000 super-humans, and not all of them are as public-spirited as me. Some go rogue, try and take over the world or become muster criminals. Those are the dumb ones, and are easily put down or sent to the cryogenic-prison on Lunar dark-side. Others are like the eight I faced now: guns for hire, willing to sell their abilities to the highest bidder.

Most are low-end super-humans: just that little bit faster and stronger than the rest of humanity. But you always get one or two heavy-hitters who either like money or hurting people. I clocked two of these in what I was up against now. I didn’t know any of them, so I wasn’t sure what I was up against, but I’m too well know to expect the same level of animosity: these guys would most likely know what they where up against, and if they where still willing to face me, I could be in trouble.

The two powerhouses charged at me, almost to fast for me to react. I braced myself, and at the lost possible moment, swung my fist round through 180-dregrees. The one on my left was sent careering backwards, knocking a hole in the thick stonewalls around the palace. The one on my right only smiled.

This was not good.

His fist punch lifted me half a mile into the air, and he followed after, accelerating all the way. I got over the shock just in time to doge his next blow, darting backwards to gain some room to manoeuvre: fighting in the air is a lot different to fighting on the ground.

We circled for a minute or so, seizing each other up: I knew the guy was fast and strong, as well as flight capable, but I didn’t know what else nature had tricked him out with. I also had to remember that Duke was on the ground, outnumbered at lest 6-to-1: I had to take this guy down, fast.

I clenched my fists, charging them till they glowed with energy, and charged straight at him. The attack caught him off guard, sending him flying backwards, end over end. He recovered quicker than I would have liked, and came back at me at near supersonic speed.

The shockwave created by our collision broke windows across the entire city.

I dropped like a stone, my ears ringing: who ever this guy was, he was at best a close-match for my own abilities, and at worst, better than I was. I saw him in the distance, also falling, and I know that I only had one chance.

Moving as fast as I could, I closed the distance between the two of us in a matter of seconds. Grabbing him by the armpits, I stared to climb. Clouds shot by as I lifted my dazed opponent higher and higher, until the blue sky started to give way to the deadly black of space.

I closed my eyes and let out all the air in my lungs, praying that he’d pass out before I did. I felt the sweet caress of oblivion start to envelop my mind, but still I kept going until the roar of passing air faded away. Finally I felt my opponent stop struggling, and gave into the pull of gravity.

We fell like a couple of meteorites, the air around us growing thick and hot as we re-entered the atmosphere. I released my burden, leaving him to his own fate as my oxygen-deprived brain tried to get my body into position. I straighten out my arms, legs and back, angling my head down to face the inferno.

There is a trick to this, but you only get one chance to get it right.

The heat rose, vaporising my clothes as I plunged deeper into the atmosphere at speeds no human body was ever meant to reach. I summoned my last reserves of strength to keep myself at the right angel, arm array from my side to keep me stable, and finally felt the cool kiss of fresh air before I passed out.

I came too in a hospital bed, a rather worried looking Charlotte at my side: she didn’t have a scratch on her, not a hair out of place. I could tell from the heat and humidity that we were still in Africa.

“You’re one crazy Englishman, you know that?” Charlotte smiled, her French-Canadian accent music to my ears, “You would have made one hell of a splash if I hadn’t caught you in time.”

“I’m sure Jackson would have been at hand to comfort you.” I smiled.

“Don’t even joke about it!” Charlotte swatted at my arm with enough force to dent steel, “That egomaniac has spent that last hour in front of the TV cameras, telling them how HE saved the day.”

“Duke?” I asked, worried.

“He’s ok: he had enough sense to keep out of the way until we arrived.” Charlotte sat on the edge of my bed, “You almost didn’t make it this time: you’ve been pushing yourself too hard recently.”

“What about the guy I was fighting?”

“He didn’t make it through re-entry.”

“Shit!” I swore under my breath: I don’t like killing if it can be avoided, “Who was he?”

“According to the records the UN took from the palace, he was an un-registered Russian super-human, and leader of the mercenaries. He was a close match for you.”

“I noticed.” I rested my head back on the pillow, “I need a holiday after this.”

“What a good idea.” Charlotte snapped her fingers, and the hospital room disappeared in a flash to be replaced by a tropical beach, “I’ve already told the UN that we’d be taking a few weeks off.”

“Show off.” A laugh: even after three years of marriage, I’m still amazed by what she can do. I looked around, “This place looks familiar…”

“It should be: it’s the beach near the hotel where we spent our honeymoon.” Charlotte smiled, lifting me up off the sand.

“Well I hope you brought the credit card with you.” I looked down at my rather un-flattering hospital pyjamas, “Because I left mine half a world away…”

I think this job worked out ok in the end…

To Be Continued…