Above and Beyond, Part Five, the epic finale: Benedict slammed her forearm into the nameless man’s nose. Murphy’s heavy boot smashed against another nameless man’s knee. They stood back to back, arms raised as the obligatory henchmen politely waited their turn to attack. “You know,” said Benedict as she broke another nose. “If we dropped a grenade, we could be done with these guys faster.” Murphy kicked another knee. “We’d be done, too, Benny. Boom! End of story.” Benedict shook her head, beads of sweat trickling down her face. “Nah, the hero always lives. It’s the best friend that gets it.” Murphy reduced her final opponent to an orthopedist’s wet dream and turned, trying to tame down the frizz that had escaped her long braid in the humidity. She looked at Benedict, their eyes locking in determination as they each went for a grenade. “There’s no effing way I’m the best friend. You’re the best friend!” “I’m your best friend? Murph, that’s so sweet.” She looked around. “Moot point. We’re done.” Murphy’s thumb relaxed against the grenade pin. “Yeah, well. Don’t get cocky, kid.” “Never.” Benedict threw her grenade as she noticed reinforcements stomping down the corridor towards them. When the smoke cleared, Benedict was well on her way towards the control room. “Keebs, I need you and Marvel Anne—” She stopped short, letting out a low whistle when she saw the eight monitors arrayed above dual keyboards. “We really don’t have this kind of budget, you know. We’re more pro bono here.” The professor pecked away at one of the keyboards. In a moment, seven different camera views appeared on the screens. “Oh, this is my rig from home. I multi-box raids in WoW.” “Er, okay.” Benedict moved closer and peered at the last monitor. “What’s this one?” Pixelated figures with green diamonds over their heads moved about a representation of a laboratory, complete with green, glowing blobs in giant Erlenmeyer flasks. “Oh, that’s mine.” Dr. Keebs moused around the screen. “Until we get actual camera feed, I’m running a simulation utilizing the latest in megalomaniac psychological data. See? I’ve given them total free will and made them independently wealthy. Otherwise, they just pee and cry all the time. Or set fire to the lab.” “Great. Listen, get that last camera up. I need hard facts, not paper dolls. Give me five minutes, then do your thing.” Professor Keebs poked at a few more keys. “What’s our thing?” “You know.” Benedict gestured vaguely at the equipment. “Press buttons. Type things. Give me updates on the headset.” The pair exchanged a glance. “Um. We don’t have a headset.” Benedict rolled her eyes and readied her weapon. “For pity’s sake. You had one job, people,” she muttered as she headed back out. As she made her way down a dark access corridor, Benedict wished Murphy was still with her. A decoy would be nice, right about now. She’d have to be sure to raise a toast to her partner. Later. Now, she had work to do. “Hullo, gorgeous.” The deep voice came from behind her, Eastern European without being specific to just one region. “Great. Now you show up? Where the hell have you been? Don’t you get that you and I are supposed to engage a few times before we get to this point?” Benedict raised her arms as she heard the man cock his gun. If only she’d remembered to attack before his weapon had been ready. Dammit. “I was busy.” The large man poked her in the back with his gun. “Move.” Benedict stepped forwards, her hands still raised. “First, I’m gonna take out Valentine. Lilley comes next. And after that, I’ll head down to the storage closet and liberate all those puppies they’ve been using for experiments.” “Why are you telling me this?” His th sounded like z, reminding Benedict of Natasha from the Rocky and Bullwinkle show. “So you’ll know how inconsequential you are. You didn’t even make the list.” Benedict whirled, grabbing his rifle with one hand and punching him with the other. The man hit the floor like a bag of wet cement with a bad accent. An explosion rocked the building, despite this part being several floors below ground level. The lights went out. Steam pipes started leaking, hissing eerily as the emergency lights kicked on. Benedict started running. Another explosion sent her flying over metal barrels sitting in the middle of a large room. She scrambled behind conveniently stacked wooden crates and risked a look to assess the situation. Across the room, she could just make out the figures of the large mustachioed man and his diminutive yet deadly partner. “Damn.” She lowered herself back down and replaced the magazine in her stolen gun, because those things are always interchangeable. “Dammit to hell. I really hate those guys.” A pistol shot jolted Benedict and she looked over to see Murphy, not just alive and relatively well, but aiming at their foes. “Murph!” Murphy flung her braid out of the way. “I got this. You go get those puppies.” “Make sure they’re actually dead this time, will you?” Benedict tossed a salute at Murphy and disappeared into the steam. ——————————— Later that night, the pair sat at a bar, tipping back bottles of really good stout. The news coverage was blissfully muted on the TV. The incident was reported as a gas leak in the old natatorium which was closed for repairs. Benedict looked over at Murphy and grinned. “Just like old times.” --end--
Posted on: Thu, 06 Nov 2014 22:31:04 +0000
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