The Angel of Chicago

Part Eleven: Rescue

by

Rodford Edmiston

The two combatants paused, both panting and sweating. After several minutes of hard fighting, Halberd was all the more furious that his opponent was holding his own, despite his certainty that he was the superior. Crunch must be cheating, somehow! As he had in all of his formal matches! How else could he be champion?!

Despite their fight raging through the suburb around the hospital, they had managed to return to the same lawn where it started. Around them lay ruined cars - some still occupied - several damaged structures, some downed trees, and a new fountain. That last was courtesy of a fire hydrant which had been broken off when Crunch got thrown into it. He had subsequently grabbed the hunk of cast iron and hurled it at Halberd. Fortunately for the neighborhood beyond, he had hit. Though that impact had done little except make the other empowered even more angry.

They both lunged at each other as one and grappled frantically for several seconds, each straining in vain for an advantage.

"Damn, man," said Crunch, as they broke from the clench. "What's got you so upset?"

"You know what you did!" yelled Halberd, voice going shrill. "You won't even admit it, but you know!"

"I didn't do anything!" yelled Crunch, frustrated. "I haven't even said anything about you since, uh..."

Halberd decided to take advantage of the other's distraction. He hated to use his ultimate attack, since it took so much out of him and would likely be lethal, but this guy had it coming.

"Let's see how those kids like you in pieces!"

He leaped in. His right hand was in a martial arts chop configuration, and glowing. Crunch reflexively blocked. The glowing knife hand sliced through his left forearm, just beyond the elbow, and then deeply into his chest. Crunch dropped, his severed arm landing nearby. Perhaps mercifully, he was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Halberd stepped away, threw his head back and arms wide, and howled his triumph. Only he noticed something.

Panting from his exertions, he looked back at his enemy to see that Bolter was trying to tie a tourniquet around Crunch's stump. Well, nobody was going to save someone he had killed! He raised his fist and took a step...

Blackpool came up from behind. He caught Halberd's right arm, inside of elbow to inside of elbow, turned, pushing him off balance, and swept both of the big man's feet out from under him in a full leg reap.

"Oh, now you're ganging up on me!" screamed Halberd, clambering back to his feet. "Yeah, go ahead! Take his side. I'll kill all of you!!"

He swung at Blackpool, who dodged away.

More empowered surged in, trying to stop the fight. Unfortunately, due to differing methods some got in each others' ways. Only a minor miracle - courtesy of AmberMite - kept them from hurting each other. Also complicating the situation was the fact that some were simply trying to restrain Halberd while others were trying to hurt or even kill him.

The big man jumped up and back, away from the swarm. He spread his arms again, bellowing a challenge. Despite the enthusiasm of a moment ago none seemed eager to meet it.

"STOP!"

The call from above did bring a halt to the fight. Enough of one that Malak was able to land between Halberd and the others.

"That is enough!" he ordered the rogue super, snapping his wings fully open in anger. "Stand dow...!"

Halberd screamed and swung. Malak desolidified, causing Halberd to fall flat on his face. However, he quickly recovered and did a leg sweep of his own, taking Malak's feet out from under him at the winged man became solid again. Halberd bounced to his feet, grabbed one of the fallen Malak's wings, and used that to swing him up, over and down, like some bizarre hammer, aimed at the battered lawn. Malak went desolid again just before the impact, vanishing into the ground. Halberd stared, started to recover, but too late. Malak flew up, out of the ground, the elbow of his left wing catching Halberd between the legs hard enough to send him hurtling into the air.

"Wow, and ow," said Bolter staring as the rogue empowered reached his peak and began returning groundwards.

"Bring me his arm," said Malak, as he knelt beside Crunch. Blackpool nodded and headed for the severed limb.

Malak made a quick examination of the unconscious man. He nodded, and, looking up, reached out for the arm as Blackpool offered it.

"Hold him down."

This time, several moved to obey.

"You'll need more than that. Be firm. It's necessary for this to be a tight fit to work correctly."

More moved in to help hold the huge man still. Malak held the arm firmly in place and closed his eyes. Abruptly, Crunch opened his eyes and screamed, struggling against those holding him. Fortunately, though they were unnerved they held firm. Malak, himself, kept his eyes closed and continued to hold the arm against the stump. Abruptly, the line between what had been separated vanished. The seam was gone, and Crunch was whole again, even his chest wound now just a bloody stain. His screams abruptly stopped, and he looked around in confusion. Malak yanked on the tourniquet and it fell free.

"That should do it."

"Wh-what happened?" said Crunch.

"Dude!" shouted Bolter. "Halberd cut your arm off! The angel guy put it back!"

"Not an angel," said Malak, tiredly, as he rose and turned to look at Halberd's still form. "An angel could have prevented all this."

* * *

He repeated this tired self criticism that evening, back in Haven.

"How far back, though?" said Arielle, putting a hand on her father's arm. "From what I know about those two this had been building for years. You only just became involved. Don't blame yourself."

"You probably saved a lot of lives, besides Crunch's," said Melody. "Halberd's in custody, the injured bystanders are all well thanks to your healing and that of some of the other empowered there..."

She didn't mention that some politicians and members of the press were already blaming him for the entire incident. Those were all known hysterics, with strong anti-super biases.

"Yet with all this power, I had to be asked to help. Called in from outside."

"Dad, you get like this every few years," said Arielle, sternly. "You aren't omniscient any more than you're omnipotent. There's only so much you can do. You have to prioritize. Do what you're best at, and thereby help the most people."

Aaron smiled and patted his daughter on the arm.

"Thank you, my lioness. You help me keep perspective."

* * *

Melody was sad to leave, but she had nonrefundable tickets. More broadly, she needed to get back to her office. Not only to work on her project, but to use the communication resources there to catch up on things.

Arielle and Aaron both - along with several others she had met in Haven, including Joe Blank - saw her off at the small airport where she caught a business shuttle to O'Hare. As the turbines on her plane shrieked, shoving the seat hard into her back, she waved out the window. She couldn't see anyone she knew, but realized that some of those she was leaving could see her.

Once back in New York she stopped briefly at her apartment, then headed for the office to get in a couple of hours that afternoon. There, Melody received a welcome from her coworkers almost as warm as the farewell from the folks at Haven. There was no actual party, but someone had bought extra doughnuts, concentrating on her favorite, strawberry jelly filled.

Once the public spectacle was over, her boss asked her into his office.

"That call-in you did for the attack on Haven was fantastic," he said, smiling. "I had one of our best writers type it up, with additional material added from other sources to fill in what you didn't know during the call. Several syndicates bought it from us, and readers are uniformly supporting your coverage. Whether or not they support empowered."

"I hope it brings some appropriate sympathy for those people," said Melody, sincerely. "Remember, most of those living there - about eighty-five percent - are just normal humans whom Haven is helping get back on their feet."

"Something I've had other writers cover. Now, here's some things you probably missed during your sojourn."

He actually read from a paper, obviously making sure he covered each of the several items listed. Melody was mildly surprised to learn that a bill to reduce restrictions on the empowered had already passed the House, though it looked to fail in the Senate.

"President Sandusky, whom most consider an elder statesman past his prime, is known to be borderline," said Gadding. "One problem for both pro and con supporters is that anyone who wishes to speak with the President has to go through his Chief of Staff, Simon Dundee, who is not only rabidly anti-empowered, but also fancies himself the power behind the throne."

"Yeah," said Melody, nodding. "It not just empowered he's against, either. People have tried to persuade Sandusky that Dundee is filtering people and information, but he just says 'Isn't that what a good Chief of Staff does?'"

"Finally, we got an anonymous tip on Grand Slam which led to some declassified documents which then revealed what it was."

"Do tell," said Melody, leaning forward eagerly.

"The idea was that at some point, for reasons not listed, the people running that illegal depository for chemicals would use the exhaust ventilators on the incinerator without turning the incinerator part on."

"What?! That... that makes no sense! They'd poison thousands, even in that isolated area!"

"The idea was that by the time anyone noticed what the source was, they'd have done exactly that," said Gadding. "That their plausible deniability would be that all their indicators said the material was being incinerated, so it wasn't their fault."

"The only reason I can see to do that," said Melody, slowly, "is that they actually wanted to create more empowered. At the cost of thousands who were exposed and didn't change, many of whom would die."

"That seems to be the gist of it," said Gadding, with a tired sigh.

"I will never understand bureaucrats," said Melody, stunned. "Not civil nor military."

"I suspect the real idea behind this was to get more funding for the collection and disposal of empowering chemicals," said her boss. "That no-one actually planned to do this but decided that just having the plan on paper would force the hands of those in charge of the budget."

"Even though it would expose an illegal program."

"That may have been part of the reason. The people who were wanting to dispose of the chemicals couldn't openly ask for more funding, so this would solve that problem, too."

"Okay... the mention I have of Grand Slam was from over thirty years ago. When was yours?"

"About the same time. Though it appeared to have been considered for more than a decade, from a few yeas before to a few years after your documents."