My Secret Identity

By Ryan Bartlett

Chapter 13

“I’m telling you, let me go now and there won’t be any trouble,” Spencer sniffled.

He was scared to death. He lay face down in the back of a panel truck while a burley thug bound his wrists and ankles with a length of rope. His new found powers were useless to him. His heart was racing and he was untrained. He couldn’t concentrate enough to control his telekinesis. The best he’d been able to do was smash the sugar bowl against the wall, even when they’d hit his mom. The only hope he had now was Bobby. He knew Bobby would save him, somehow.

“Shut up, kid. We’ve got another stop to make,” said the gang member behind the wheel.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with. When my… friend finds out about this you guys are toast. I, mmm, mmmmm,” Spencer muttered as a gag was tied around his mouth.

“Oh, we got something for your little friend,” the driver snickered.

Spencer looked to his right and fought against his bonds when he read the inscription on the crate next to him, “FIM-92 Stinger, Infrared Homing Surface to Air Missile System.”

Robbie Matthews’ rampage at Seatac Airport and the attack on Spencer were a coordinated effort by Idrid Crow’s minions. Crow wanted Robin Fixx dead, but killing the boy wasn’t enough. There were others who would take his place unless Crow somehow convinced them otherwise. Crow’s plan was to humble the boy, strike down those he loved most and end him before the eyes of the world. That should make the other repatriates think twice before taking the Boy Wonder’s place.

Crow knew everything he needed to know in order to destroy Robin Fixx. He’d been inside the boy’s mind. He knew all of his hopes and fears. He knew where to find Spencer McCoy, Miranda and Patrick Fixx. He had his own repatriates, men so dead inside they cared nothing about murdering a boy and his family. It was shaping up to be a very bad day for the Boy Wonder.

Bobby took careful note of every detail Mrs. McCoy could give him about the men who had taken Spencer and the vehicle they’d left in. They sounded like Seattle gang members. Bobby wasn’t sure what they were doing in Tacoma or why they’d targeted his boyfriend. The only thing he knew was they would regret that decision when he was finished with them.

Once he had every detail he could get, he disappeared into the hall bathroom with his backpack and changed into his uniform.

“Danny thought it was you,” said Mrs. McCoy when Bobby returned from the bathroom. “That night the building collapsed on him, he was sure you saved him. I told him that was crazy but…”

“I’m going after Spencer,” said Bobby. He didn’t have time to explain just then.

Mrs. McCoy nodded her head and put her arms gently around his neck.

“God be with you, Bobby,” she kissed his cheek.

“It’s going to be ok,” Bobby assured her, then ran out the door and into the sky.

He was looking for a white panel van like you might rent from a moving company. From the skid marks they left behind he could tell they’d gone north when they peeled out of Spencer’s driveway, so Bobby flew in that direction, hoping he’d find a traffic disturbance caused by erratic driving. He had the police scanner with him as well, in the hope that the van might attract the attention of law enforcement. He didn’t understand why Spencer hadn’t contacted him telepathically, and flying in the general direction the perpetrators had taken was his best option at the moment.

Spencer felt the moving van stop, and then he heard a woman’s scream. He tried to roll over and get a look at what was happening, but one of the gang members kicked him in the ribs. He collapsed on the floorboards and fought to catch his breath when the woman was thrown on the floor next to him. She fought her kidnappers until one of them punched her, rendering her unconscious. Spencer didn’t get a good look at her face until they laid her beside him and tied her up. It was Bobby’s mom.

In that instant Spencer realized a trap was being set. He didn’t know who these assholes were or how they’d figured out Bobby’s secret identity, but they had the Boy Wonder’s mom, they had his boyfriend. They wanted Bobby to find them, and when he did… they had a surface to air missile. Tears began streaming from Spencer’s eyes. These bastards were going to kill Bobby unless someone warned him. Spencer knew he was the only one who could help Bobby now. He willed himself to calm down, forced himself to concentrate.

Bobby, can you hear me?

The proceedings were being conducted on the 20th floor of the King County Criminal Justice Center in downtown Seattle. There were holding cells in the basement for the defendants in the criminal cases. Deputies would bring them from the county jail via an underground tunnel to prepare for their court sessions. The lower floors of the building housed offices for the district attorney and the public defender, while the upper floors were reserved for the courts. King County Deputy District Attorney Patrick Fixx sat at a table with his assistant counsel and went over the police department’s report on the incident at Seatac Airport while they waited for the accused to be brought in.

It was only a simple arraignment, the first of many court appearances in what Patrick assumed would be a year-long trial. Cases like this were never easy. There would be testimony from eye witnesses, the police, bystanders, medical personnel, expert witnesses for both the state and the defense; it would be a circus. All Patrick had to do that day was read the charges. The judge would ask the alleged shooter, Robbie Matthews, to enter a plea, and further court dates would be set. Patrick was anxious to get the arraignment out of the way. He wanted to talk to every witness he could while their memories were still fresh, but more importantly he wanted to show the families of the victims that he was working hard to secure justice for their loved ones.

He’d taken this case for three reasons: he was a good lawyer and his boss, the District Attorney, trusted him to get a conviction, he wanted to impress his son and show him the good work he did, that his career wasn’t one big lawyer joke, but mostly he took the case because he believed in justice. The victims of this crime had their lives violently taken from them, and it was his job to see to it the perpetrator paid the price for what he’d done, even if it meant the state must take his life.

Patrick looked up when the sheriff’s deputies brought in the accused and seated him next to his attorney. There was something disturbing about Matthews’ appearance. The expression on his face said nothing about the fact he’d murdered 20 innocents. He looked about as calm and unconcerned as a man enjoying a day at the beach. Patrick expected the public defender to go for an insanity defense, and he had to admit Matthews fit the bill.

“All rise for his Honor, Judge Chamberlin Heller,” announced the bailiff.

Patrick shook off his thoughts and rose with the rest of the court.

“Be seated,” said Judge Heller. “Mr. Fixx, you may proceed.”

“Your honor, in the matter of People of Washington versus Matthews, the charges are as follows. Twenty counts of murder in the first degree, terrorist activities, terrorist threats…” Patrick began. He stopped short when the water glass on his table began to shake.

It wasn’t just the water glass; the entire room was shaking. Seattle isn’t known for earthquakes, but it does lie on the Pacific Rim, where such things do happen. No one panicked until the holster flap on a deputy’s belt snapped open and his weapon flew into the waiting hands of a smiling Robbie Matthews.

The other sworn officers in the room drew their weapons, but they were pulled from their hands as if by magic when they pointed them at Matthews.

“Mr. Matthews, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll put that pistol on the table and step back,” said Judge Heller from the bench.

Matthews laughed maniacally as a large window shattered and two men dressed like gang members flew through the opening.

“Son of a bitch,” Patrick Fixx muttered, dumbfounded.

“What in the hell…” Judge Heller began.

The two men calmly approached the bench and seized the judge in mid-sentence. They escorted him to the edge of the window they’d entered from and before the eyes of the crowded courtroom threw the judge from the ledge.

People screamed and ran for the doors, but Matthews slammed them shut with his powers. Only one deputy, who had been rushing to the scene to help his fellow officers, escaped when a door slammed in his face.

“I thought you’d never get here,” Matthews giggled at his compatriots.

Bobby was beginning to panic. He’d been circling the area for fifteen minutes and still hadn’t spotted the van. He listened intently to the chatter on the police scanner. Mrs. McCoy called 9-1-1 the second he left her, and judging from the things he was hearing, the police weren’t having any luck either. He was considering another tactic when the frightened voice of a sheriff’s deputy broke through the radio traffic.

“Dispatch, this is Adams, over at the courthouse. I need backup. Judge Heller’s dead. They threw him out the fucking window!”

“Unidentified transmitter, please state your name and emergency.”

“Adams, Ryan D. King County Sheriff’s Department,” he replied, trying to keep his emotions in check. “We escorted Robbie Matthews into court for his arraignment. Two suspects flew into the freaking room. Judge Heller’s dead; they threw him out the window. They’ve got hostages. Send SWAT. Send everything that will move!”

“Roger, standby.”

“FUCK!” Bobby swore. This was exactly what he was afraid off. The police didn’t know what Matthews was capable of, and now his dad was in danger. His instinct was to fly straight downtown, but he couldn’t just leave Spencer to the men who’d taken him. It was the most difficult struggle of his life. He felt like he was going to be ripped in two by the choice he had to make when he heard a faint voice in the back of his head.

Bobby, can you hear me?

SPENCE! I can hear you! Where are you?

I’m in the back of a moving van. We’re heading north on I-5, said Spencer. He’d managed to catch a glimpse of a highway sign as they speed towards Seattle.

Are you ok? Are you hurt?

I’m ok.

Spence, that Matthews fucker, he has my dad and a bunch of people trapped in a courtroom downtown. Two men flew in and killed the judge. It’s got to be more of Crowe’s repatriates. I don’t know what to do! Bobby’s voice trembled.

Bobby, I’m not alone here. They’ve got your mom.

The feeling of despair that shot through his body was overwhelming. Everyone he loved was in danger! His mother, his father, his boyfriend, everyone he loved was in peril, and he couldn’t help them all at once. He’d been trained to fight with a team. He needed Jenna, Jeremy and Jason, but he didn’t know where they were, how he could summon them, or if they’d even been returned to the present time yet. He screamed as hard as he could, and it helped clear his mind.

He was closest to his mother and Spencer. As much as it pained him, his father would have to wait.

Spence, tell me everything you can see. I’m coming for you.

Ok, but Bobby, you’ve got to be careful. They’ve got some kind of surface to air missile. I think they’re going to try and shoot you down!

Let them try, Bobby replied with ice in his veins. They had his mom and his lover. They wanted to kill him. There were going to be a few more assholes in hell by the end of the day if Bobby had anything to say about it.

One-hundred and eighty miles away in Gresham, a suburb of Portland, Jenna Clinton stood in her kitchen pouring milk into cereal. A small TV sat on the counter, and as she sat down for breakfast the regular program was interrupted for an emergency news break.

Reporters from every major news outlet in America had descended on Seattle to cover the Robbie Matthews story for what was sure to be the next trial of the century. Jenna watched as some blond bimbo explained the events that had taken place as she stood in front of an ambulance while paramedics realized there was nothing they could do for the late Judge Heller.

Her head snapped up when the reporter announced two men had flown into the courtroom and murdered the judge. Like Bobby, Jenna’s powers had begun to manifest themselves, and word that two men had used superpowers to murder a judge in Seattle seemed to open her memory to everything that was still blocked.

“Seattle. Bobby. Bobby lives in the Seattle area. Bobby is the Warden of Seattle. Bobby needs help!”

They hadn’t started out as friends, but by the time the Watchers had returned the Wardens of the West to their homes, Jenna had begun to think of herself as momma bear and the boys on her team as her cubs. Like Bobby, she’d been having dreams about her teammates, and knowing that one of them faced danger helped her to see everything clearly. Maybe that’s how the Watchers had intended things to be? Maybe they gave the Wardens time to get used to their powers in the present time knowing that an emergency situation would clear the remaining fog? Whatever was going on, one thing was clear: Bobby was in danger and she needed to find Jason and Jeremy, NOW.

Jenna ran from the house and burst into the morning sky. She wasn’t quite as fast as the boys, but she hoped she’d be able to gather the team in time.

“First stop, Spokane,” the Warden of Portland muttered to herself.

With Spencer’s help Bobby managed to find the moving van speeding north along Interstate 5. The good news was they were heading towards downtown Seattle. They were getting closer to his dad, and with luck he’d make it in time to save him after he rescued Spencer and his mom. The bad news was there were six men armed with a surface to air missile standing between him and his loved ones. He flew over the van and touched down on the roof, less gently than he’d intended.

“Did you hear that?” asked the gang member in the passenger seat.

“Yeah, man, like something hit the roof,” said the driver.

“That kid can fly, man.”

“Better check it out,” the driver ordered.

Bobby, they know you’re here. The guy in the passenger seat, he’s going to stick his head up and look for you, said Spencer.

Bobby took the information in, and as the man’s head popped up he grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him out of his seat. Bobby dropped down on his knees and slammed the gang banger’s head against the roof of the van, then threw him into the trees they were speeding past. Next he reached into the driver’s side and tried to pull him from behind the wheel.

“He’s here! Get him off me!” the driver shouted as he swerved in traffic while dodging Bobby’s grasp.

One of the gang members moved to the crate and began to unload the missile. A second thug pulled a Tech-9 from his belt and fired into the roof over the driver’s head. Bobby was so used to bullets now, thanks to Robbie Matthews, that the sensation of them hitting his tummy tickled.

“Get him off me!” the driver shouted again.

Spencer heard the back doors of the van open, and then someone seized Miranda and dragged her to her feet.

Bobby, they’ve got your mom. I can’t see what they’re doing, but the back of the van is open!

Bobby gave up on the driver and flew to the rear of the van. Two armed gang members fired machine guns at him, a third held his mother, and a fourth was aiming what Bobby assumed was the missile. He quickly disarmed the gunmen by melting their weapons with his heat vision, but just as he closed in and reached for them he heard a high pitched beeping. The missile was locked on him. The moment his head snapped up, the weapon fired.

The missile caught him in the stomach and rocketed him away from the van. Fortunately for Bobby the weapon was designed to blast targets from the sky, not intercept them within 5 feet. It hadn’t armed itself when it struck him; all he had to do was roll over and the missile left him harmlessly behind.

The gang members in the van were patting themselves on the back for a job well done when Bobby returned. He grabbed two of them from behind and angrily threw them out of the back door into traffic. He advanced on the man who held his mother when the guy with the missile tube hit him over the head with the empty weapon. Despite his super strength he was taken by surprise and the impact was enough to knock him down on all fours.

“Hey asshole, fetch!” yelled the other gang member as he threw Bobby’s mom out of the back door.

“NO!” Bobby screamed as he scrambled to his feet, sure his mother was lost.

Before Miranda could hit the pavement or be run down by a car, something caught her. Something held her in mid-air and kept pace with the speeding van. Bobby and the gang members stared with slack jaws until Bobby turned and found Spencer on his back, eyes screwed shut, using all of his concentration to hold Miranda in place with his telekinesis.

Bobby smiled then grabbed the dumbfounded gang members and smashed their heads together until they lost consciousness. He knelt down and kissed Spencer on the forehead as he began to untie him.

“Don’t distract me,” said Spencer. “If I break my concentration I’ll lose her.”

There was still the driver to deal with. Bobby focused on the floor and used his heat vision to burn a hole open. He took aim at the van’s axle and blew it in half. He grabbed Spencer and flew from the van, grabbing his mother along the way, as the van flipped end over end, coming to rest in a ditch.

When he landed on the side of the interstate Bobby quickly untied his mother and Spencer and pulled them to him. He hugged them so tightly he nearly snapped them in half.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Miranda repeated over and over.

“It’s ok mom, everything’s ok.”

“Robin?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he smiled and took off his mask.

The look on his mother’s face before she passed out was priceless. Bobby turned his attention back to Spencer.

“I have to help my dad. Take care of mom for me,” said Bobby. He kissed Spencer and flew into the sky before his boyfriend could object.

“Wait, you need my help!” Spencer shouted after him.