Thursday, August 8, 2013

Gauntlet - Episode 17.



Episode 17 – She’s going to Blow

Patience had never been Miss Velix’s strong suit; she often told herself that it was her dangerously short fused temper, not her fondness for explosives that earned her the infamous nickname. But either way, for her it was a mark of pride to hear people whisper about her out of fear. It was good to be taken seriously she thought, no matter the reasons. She terribly hated all this waiting though.

The urge to walk away and trigger the detonator for all the wired charges clinging around her to the building was terribly tempting. Even if her primary objective had been to clearly deal with this drifting do-good. What kind of loony loser was this guy anyways she thought to herself as she double-checked a series of sensors strategically placed near some windows. She was determined to catch this self-appointed champion by surprise when he tried to out fox her.

The sound of booted feet lightly treading upon the dirt outside gently raised an alarm at the back of her mind. While her mind began to ask the subconscious question of what it could be, her hands were already reaching down to grip brutal batons. The weight of them in her grasp sent a surge of sweet adrenaline awake inside her that she welcomed as a relief from the waiting.

“Knock, knock,” the stranger spoke from behind her, just outside the open doorway. “Somebody call for pest control?” Boom-Boom turned around, already eager to bash the wise-cracks right from this man’s brains. As he entered through the doorways she noticed a soft smile still in place upon his face and not a single weapon in his hand. This was unbelievable, had he really just walked right in here without even drawing a weapon? Oh, she was really going to enjoy this!

“You have been meddling, Mr. Man,” Boom-Boom said menacingly. “I’m here to educate you about the error of your actions. It’s nothing personal, just business – you understand.”

How typical, Marshall thought to himself; it’s never just business to these types, it is always personal. Their reputation was almost more important to them than breathing and any perceived threat couldn’t be tolerated. Already he had challenged the criminal control of Redemption, so obviously he was expected to simply be about to be ‘dealt with.’ It was still quite humorous to him that this lethal lady didn’t at least seem concerned about the potential of being unable to beat him. But then again as he scanned the room he had to admit that with a building wired to blow she did have a strong hand to play.

“Apologies, never been much good at minding my own business; I guess you might say it isn’t one of my most redeeming qualities.” This girl was good though, Marshall decided, while he engaged in witty banter he studied her body language. She had managed to keep her face expressionless – an empty mask that didn’t seem to register any response to his remark. Even her hands, hands that held barbaric bars well suited to breaking bones denied his attempts to deduce how she might react.

It was her feet and hips that betrayed her though. Always is something, and what they told him was she was itching to rush him. Her heels rocked rhythmically up and down as she kept shifting her stance. A slight cock to her waist favored her left that gave him the hinted clue she might lead off with that particular side. And her impulsive fidgeting was growing more frantic by the second, he was about to run out of time to think about his options.

Acting on his own instincts, the sound of drawn steel sung on the air as he drew forth weapons of his own. His conscience counseled him about the inherent danger in a misplaced shot in a room full of combustible components. Quickly though, Marshall told the part of his mind that still demanded for time to think to kindly silence itself. In a flash he found a surprisingly nimble foe flying at him with a blurring barrage of blows aimed his way.

While one sinister strike swung for his skull, its sibling angled its way towards his ribs. Only raw reflex resisted both as they rang against the robust backside of his blades. It was close-range chaos as the two moved back and forth in a deadly dance of exchanged attacks. Both combatants struggled against the other looking for some measure of edge or exploitable opening.

When it came, Marshall made full use of the opportunity. The brutal belle brought both her clubs crashing down simultaneously seeking his shoulders. In a desperate thrust, Marshall drove his Claw Breakers straight up and inside to parry the pair. As they grated against the potential producers of pain he jerked up with his thrown momentum to bring his knee into range and rode it right into her soft middle.

The maverick maneuver managed to produce a groan as Boom-Boom crumpled backwards in reluctant retreat. He had hurt her; somehow this man had actually caused her pain. It was simply unacceptable to Boom-Boom, nobody had ever done that and she wasn’t about to allow him another chance to do so again. Or be around to speak on the matter.

“Alright, hero, while I can’t say it’s been a blast – it sure is about to be!” With a ragged gasp she produced a small silver tab from her pocket, her thumb wavering just above a lone button. “Time to say your goodbyes,” Boom-Boom spat as a sadistic grin spread over her face. “Because to the people here in Redemption you are about to be nothing but just another nameless face for them to forget who was only passing through.”