Tag Archives: Daniel

Rematch: Part 9

I turned, checking around the corner of our booth to see Yoselin stepping back from the buffet and walking down the aisle back to our booth.

She grinned at me, It’s funny how that story lives on. My dad never saw him again after that. The earth elemental disappeared after the island sank. The Dixieland Defenders might have destroyed it. Cuba didn’t allow supernatural heroes to be part of government teams back then so my dad didn’t have anyone to ask.

She sat down and bit into a croissant she’d spread strawberry jelly on. Continue reading Rematch: Part 9

Rematch: Part 7

My thoughts went in all directions. Could I maybe turn off my video when I made the return call and say, “Nope, that wasn’t me?” As much as that sounded tempting, I might actually need his help sometime. Bearing in mind his powers—the ability to alter his physical speed, strength, and toughness by altering his biology—and the fact that he could put himself into Jaclyn’s league in those areas, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

He was a bit of a bro, but he had a moral code buried somewhere underneath a need to be liked by as many people as possible. He’d fought his best friend after it turned out that the guy had been robbing armored cars. Continue reading Rematch: Part 7

Rematch: Part 6

Good point, I thought back at her. I don’t know what we should do with all of that, but the only thing your people suggested was that we should do something about whoever was selling equipment to the Nine and Syndicate L. They didn’t mention anything about the equipment.

Daniel gave off a hint of amusement that felt like a gentle breeze in my head. If they don’t have some kind of plan for it themselves, I’d be surprised. I’m betting that they’ve got other people on the island to clean up after we do whatever we do.

I felt Cassie thinking even if I didn’t hear it. Now that you say it, yeah. I’d bet on it. Continue reading Rematch: Part 6

Rematch: Part 5

At the same time, the smell of vomit began to saturate my awareness. Beyond the smell of alcohol, I recognized the smell of the fried cheese curds Cassie ate at some point in the afternoon. Unlike your average cheese curds, these hadn’t been made of cheddar, but of a stinkier cheese I didn’t recognize, adding a strong moldy addition to the already questionable smell.

“That smell,” I swallowed, trying to keep everything down, “I feel sick too.”

The bald man’s eyes widened. Continue reading Rematch: Part 5

Rematch: Part 4

I tried to remember. Had Kid Biohack ever seen my face? I didn’t think so. I didn’t even know his real first name. He’d graduated from Stapledon before I got there. Still, we knew some of the same people. It wasn’t impossible that he’d recognize me if Stapledon’s block permitted them to show a picture to another Stapledon graduate.

On the other hand, he’d shown up the year we fought The Thing That Eats—my sophomore year at Grand Lake University. He probably hadn’t looked at my picture often enough in the last two and half years to recognize me. Plus, Daniel hadn’t been around for much of that while Cassie had only shown up for the end.

Assuming I didn’t shout, “Yo, Kid Biohack, I’m the Rocket!” I was probably okay. Continue reading Rematch: Part 4

Rematch: Part 3

Remembering back to when I’d taken Cassie’s gun to rescue her from being kidnapped by Rook, I supposed that a being that had been sitting unused for thousands of years before Cassie found it could handle some delayed gratification.

You could also argue that it might be desperate enough to do anything to avoid being alone again.

“Huh,” I said, “I guess that’s good. Time to go damage our ears?” Continue reading Rematch: Part 3

Rematch: Part 2

I grinned, “I feel like we’ve been doing this kind of thing long enough now that we expect it’s not going to be as easy as it looks.”

“Sure,” Cassie snorted out half a laugh, “but I don’t expect it to be this far off either. Go in and kidnap this guy. It’ll be easy except maybe there’s Dominators, or organized crime, or international terrorist spy people, or aliens, or witches, or immortal, evil warriors. Or maybe all of the above. It’ll be fine. Everything’s fine.”

Daniel gave the both of us a smile, “It could be worse. Don’t ask me how exactly, but it could. Before we find out, let’s focus on the mission. How do we find this guy?” Continue reading Rematch: Part 2

Rematch: Part 1

I wouldn’t have even attempted to rent this hotel room on my own. It appeared to be the size of the house I’d inherited from my grandfather, but with a better view and air conditioning. That ignored the base under the house, but even considering that, the hotel room was less a room and more of a suite—which was good because I was sharing it with two other people.

I stood next to the window. I could have gone out onto the balcony, but the less chance I had of being seen, the better. Also, it was at least 90 degrees outside and humid. Ocean breezes might make it better, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

Daniel walked up, joining me, and telepathically asking, Enjoying the view? He didn’t need to ask. It was a given that he already knew. He was using it to start a conversation. Continue reading Rematch: Part 1

Loose Ends: Part 3

Then Daniel frowned. I can’t say that there aren’t potential problems, though. Memories associated with verbal commands using Dr. Hansen’s tie pin or other people’s voices last longer than normal memories and a decent telepath could use them as foundations for altering how someone thinks—which is why the Dominators are as effective as they are.

Have someone with voice powers put in a few basic commands, let a telepath set up a framework that connects the commands together, and maybe have a wizard set up a way to revert to that mental state if a telepath removes it and you’ve got something I can’t remove and maybe something I can’t detect. Continue reading Loose Ends: Part 3

Loose Ends: Part 2

Trying to keep him guessing, I interpreted the question as literally as possible. “It does not help me remember. What do you mean by faking ‘it’?”

Dr. Hansen began to move his left arm upward toward the gun, mostly likely to steady it so that he could shoot me. I had no time left to wait. I was just about to use the stealth suit (concealed as jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt, and a jacket) to lean forward and throw the desk at him, but I didn’t have to. Continue reading Loose Ends: Part 2