Super Team 66: Part Three
Super Team 66: Part Three super hero stories
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ericfischer
ericfischer Fiction writer, fiddle player, and cook
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
Part Three: The First Domino Team Member: Trojan I reached my hand forward towards the rampaging subway car. It hooked on a bar and tore me from where I was standing. If I were any mere mortal, it would have ripped my arm off.

Super Team 66: Part Three

Part Three: The First Domino Team Member: Trojan

I reached my hand forward towards the rampaging subway car. It hooked on a bar and tore me from where I was standing. If I were any mere mortal, it would have ripped my arm off.

But I'm a super, damnit, and it was time I started acting like one.

Pain throbbed in my shoulder, but I muscled it down and put it at the back of my mind, pulling myself to the door at the back of the subway car.

I was a little stronger than your average human, but I think that was due to lugging around my much more dense than average carapace.

The keyword there is dense, I am literally (and kinda figuratively) dense. My limbs are like steel clubs.

The subway door was locked, but with a couple of wind ups and follow through's, the handle dented and then snapped the door off its hinges. I was in.

Immediately there were screams in the car. I looked around. It wasn't packed. Just a few loners and a mother with her three young boys, they were the majority of the screaming.

As I steadied myself I tried to give a reassuring smile and show them my hero license.

But,

the pain from everything I had been through made my attempt at a smile seem like the crazed face of a psycho and the people in the car didn't even look at the licence I fumbled from my pocket,

the passengers were running from me and trying to get to the next car.

That's when I saw him. One of the fleeing passengers may have had an inconspicuous leather jacket and baseball cap, but his pants were bright orange.

Those weren't pants, those were the bottom half of a prison uniform. Damn, Pandora's coat was good.

Fear gripped me. He was getting away. I wasn't good at running when I was at my best, let alone after how much I had just got beaten up. He was gonna get away.

I hadn't gone through everything I just did to fail now. I knew I couldn't pull my gun, there were too many people down here.

I took a deep breath and thought about everything that had gotten me this far, help and advice from others. What would my team do? My mind went to Icarus.

She may have just been a punk kid, but more than anyone on the team; hell, more than anyone I had ever met; she was a freakin' hero!

She was always doing what was right and wearing her hero license like a badge of honor. These people may not have known it, but they needed a hero.

"Super Team 66 member Trojan," I barked in my best commanding voice, "Stop that man! He is a known fugitive!" The people crowding the door did something miraculous.

They hesitated, showing they were at least listening a little.

I was taking a giant risk, Titan would be mad at me. This villain might just kill all these civilians.

But, he had gone to such great lengths to hide his end of the escape and even Rock'em and Sock'em's escape was on the roofs, far away from civilians.

I had a hunch, and I knew I had to follow it.

Orange pants kept fighting to get through. Most of the civilians just stood there and didn't stop him, but two of them did. They grabbed him by the chest and tossed him backwards to me.

The villain hit me and crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He shuffled up and tried to run back towards the door.

"Close it and lock it!" I continued to order, hoping the people that threw the fugitive to me were still in the mood to listen to me.

Luckily, they were, and they had inspired some of the other crowd to join their assistance.

I wish it hadn't been such a gamble for people to help a hero who's helping them, but that was really on me. My appearance didn't scream hero.

Besides the darker tone of my skin and messy hair and beard, I had never really bought into the idea of dressing like the stereotypical hero.

I had my nice black overcoat I had worn from my detective days over the comfiest hoodie I had, just plain red. Then I wore my lucky jeans and my comfiest moccasins.

Ever since my power kicked in during my twenties, I tried to stay normal and wear normal clothes.

But the discomfort that constantly came with my rigid and uncompromising body made me seek comfort in almost every aspect of my life.

Were they the best for fast physical altercations? No, but I was no longer a fast kind of guy.

Did my search for comfort compromise the look of a competent and energetic hero here to save your life? Maybe, but I did have one of those cool eye masks. Red diamonds over both eyes.

Heroes wore masks right?

At least the crowd was starting to get that I was a hero now. They formed a human blockade and stopped the villain from fleeing into their car while others fumbled around for the door.

They found how to close it and how to lock it.

That left just me and orange pants, and I was standing in front of the door that I broke off, his only other escape. It was time to get some answers.

"I'm code name Trojan with Super Team 66.

" I barked, I had to keep the tough act up until I either caught him or a team member of mine could divine our location, but with my coms still out, that was looking not very likely.

"Reveal your identity and turn yourself in."

"Well I'll definitely do that first part." sneered orange pants. He held one of his hands out in the air in seeming surrender, and the other removed his baseball hat.

Black hair fell over a gaunt male face. His eyes were pitch black, like two pits into his soul. I immediately recognized him.

"Damn it Felix. You're the escapee? I thought we had an understanding last time." The disappointment in my voice was only matched in the fear I was feeling.

Felix Deminov was a dangerous individual who I luckily got to turn himself in a few years ago when I was working with Pandora.

"Don't call me by that name!" He spat, anger suddenly racing across his face and sparks dancing on his fingers. "You know my name. My REAL name."

"Yes," I hesitantly responded, "but I refuse to call you it."

"Say it!" He growled.

"Feli-" I tried to de-escalate the conversation. The last time we talked it had been so formal.

He always had a flair for the dramatic, but as long as I could keep things more grounded and use real names and not super names, he tended to mellow out.

"MY NAME!" He roared, "IS FINAL DESTINATOR!"

"I am NOT calling you that!" I barked back. I knew it was a bad idea to turn this into a yelling match, but I had to match his energy.

If he thought he had control over this conversation, he might use his power on a whim, and that would be bad.

His power was chain reactions, like a Rube Goldberg machine of death. However, Felix was a millennial, so he better understood the concept from a series of movies called final destination.

That is where he got his name from.

Felix had a massive obsession with pop culture.

I'm no therapist, but I know he had a problem with separating the fantasy of his stories and movies from real life; and in a world of super people, I can understand how that would happen.

He was getting upset, I had to calm him down a bit. I was hoping to use his obsession with drama to my advantage.

"Look." I said, a little softer, but still trying to keep the authority like tone in my voice I had from my cop years. "I caught you F.D., your escape plan failed.

My teammates are rounding up your Rock'em and Sock'em distraction and I'm catching you. It's over."

Felix's rage transformed into cartoonish villainy and glee. "That's what you think Trojan." His voice trilled and played with the words.

"But on touch of my hand and this subway will not only crash, but probably take down a building or something. I never quite know how powerful my power will be."

I gritted my teeth. The words I was about to say made me sick, but he had always associated a *bad cop* type role when he viewed me, so I had to play into it. "Do it." I jeered.

"With my luck, I'll still survive the crash.

" My words made me sick to think that I was playing fast and loose with the lives of the people on the train, but I had to keep it together to sell the bluff.

Felix's grin was replaced with worry and confusion. "I mean it man, one move and I'll toast this train!"

"And kill yourself and leave me alive? Sounds great, pull the trigger!" I yelled.

"But you'll have their lives on your conscience." He tried to threaten.

I just looked him dead in the eye. "Conscience? I don't know the meaning of the word."

Fear and confusion immediately consumed Felix's face and he put his hands down, they stopped sparking. I secretly let out the BIGGEST sigh of relief.

"No, no, no, no, no!" He began sputtering, looking around desperately for an escape. "He said there wouldn't be a problem, it wasn't supposed to go this way."

That got my attention. The thing behind everything that had happened today. "Who? Who said that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Felix jeered at me.

It was time to play into Felix's mindset again. "Pfft, yea. Like there's a group that could stand up to Super Team 66." I heroically guffawed.

"The Golden Eagles will wipe that smile from your smug faces!" Felix definitely yelled in my face, no longer caring about the distance between me and him.

"The Golden Eagles." I clarified, "Lead by?"

Felix blinked at me like I should have known. "Um, I don't know his name. The Golden Eagle?"

Damn, well I can't win everything. A villain name wasn't gonna do me any good right now. "Well thanks Felix." I said and before he could retort and bopped him on the head.

He was out and on the ground like a sack of potatoes.

My job was done, but there was a new player in town, and we had already started playing his game.

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