Society of Heroes with Indeterminate Talent (8 page)

12.

Grand theft auto on park lane

"Is this your first time out in the field, Captain Quantum?" asked Agent Two as they strolled leisurely down Park Lane.

"Yes, sir." replied the youth.

"Nervous?"

"A little sir, if I'm honest."

"I remember when I was a rookie like you," mused Agent Two.  "I'm still learning even now."

"How long have you been on field duty, if you don't mind me asking, sir?"

"A few days now."

"Oh." said Captain Quantum.

"But you'll be fine under my tutorage.  Sure you may look ridiculous in that incredibly tight blue spandex costume with that weird upside down fork emblem on your chest but…say, what is that anyway?"

"What?"

"That weird upside down fork emblem on your chest."

Captain Quantum looked down at his chest, then at the agent with a look of disbelief on his face.

"You don’t know what this emblem symbolizes, sir?"

"Of course I do," scoffed Agent Two, rolling his eyes theatrically.  "I'm just trying to ease the tension for you, get rid of those nerves of yours."

"Thank you, I appreciate that, sir."

They carried on walking down the street in silence for a few moments then Agent Two cleared this throat.

"So, hypothetically assuming that I was someone who didn’t know what that weird upside down fork emblem on your chest means, what would you tell them if they asked you?"

"Well, assuming the person didn’t know sir, I would tell them it's the symbol for quantum mechanical wave-function."

"Oh, right." said Agent Two nodding his head knowingly.

They carried on walking down the street in silence for a few more moments then Agent Two cleared this throat again.

"So, hypothetically assuming that I was someone who didn’t know what quantum mechanical wave-function was, what would you tell them if they asked you?"

"Well, assuming the person didn’t know sir, I would tell them the mechanical wave-function in quantum mechanics describes the state of a particle and its behavioral characteristics in the quantum realm at a given point of space and time scaled at atomic and subatomic length.  Are you familiar with it?"

"Of course," answered Agent Two looking down at his clipboard in puzzlement.  "I knew all that when I looked at your…erm…briefing notes.  So what is your super power?"

"Does it not say that in my briefing notes, sir?" asked Captain Quantum.

"Yes, of course it does, I'm just relieving the tension I can feel you have, so just work with me a little rookie."

"Okay, sir.  Well, I can teleport short distances.  By thought alone I can transfer my body matter into energy and move it from one point to another."

"Really?  Just how short is short distances?"

"Just one foot squared in any direction at any time."

"Oh…more like hopping then?" commented Agent Two sounding unimpressed.

"In the world of physics, a quantum is the absolute minimum amount of any physical entity involved in an interaction.  So that's what I do, the absolute minimum."

"I'm sure quantum hopping will prove useful, rookie."

"Where are we, sir?"

"We're at City of Westminster, central London, just walking down Park Lane.  We thought we'd start you off nice and easy and let you dip your toes in a 'safe-zone'.  See, certain areas of London are just riddled with crime.  Areas like Camden, Hammersmith, Fulham, Deptford, Hackney, Lambeth and Newham.  You're the new generation of crime fighters and we didn’t want to scare you off at your first real taste of crime, so we thought we'd start you off in a wealthier area of London and see if we can spot any opportunists."

"Okay, sir." said Captain Quantum looking around with steely determination.

"The plan is, as part of your initiation I will stand back and watch you handle a crime if we encounter one.  I want you to assess the crime, make an informed decision and act upon it.  All I'm here to do if give you some direction if you need it.  Just remember the basics."

"I'm confident I'll make the right decision, sir."

"Good, and remember we're here to help our fellow citizens as much as we are to combat crime."

"I'll remember that, sir."

They carried on strolling down the street goggling at all the supercars parked curbside on Park Lane.  There was white Lamborghini's, cherry red Ferrari's, silver Aston Martin's, black Porsche's and Bentley's as far as the eyes could see.

"Should we take the number plates for the offences they have committed, sir?"

"It's not a crime to be rich, rookie." snorted Agent Two.

"No, but all these cars are parked on double-yellow lines and that's prohibited in the Road Traffic Act, isn’t it sir?"

Agent Two flicked a glance towards the ground then back up to the rookie.

"Yes, I noted that also.  Very observant of you but we're here to combat crime not to marshal and enforce parking contraventions."

"I understand, sir."

Just up ahead Agent Two caught sight of a scruffily dressed young man knelt on the pavement at the driver's door of a jet-black Bugatti Veyron.

He kept looking over his shoulder nervously before quickly delving into his jacket and pulling out a long metal strip which he started to frantically shimmy down the window of the car.

"Wait!" whispered Agent Two grabbing a hold of Captain Quantum's shoulder.  "See that man over there?"

"Yes."

"This is your moment to shine, rookie.  I'll stand back a few paces, make notes and let you deal with it.  Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yes, sir."

Captain Quantum straightened his shoulders and strode over to the man with the agent hanging around within earshot.  As soon as the scruffy man saw the superhero bearing down on him he jumped up startled, did a quick double-take, then shoved the long metal strip quickly back into his jacket smiling innocently.

"Good afternoon, sir." said Captain Quantum planting his arms on his hips.  "Is this your million pound vehicle?"

The man licked his lips nervously, glanced down at his ripped jacket, torn jeans and sandals then nodded his head.

"Yes, yes, this is my car.  It's my Ferrari."

"It's a Bugatti Veyron."

"Silly me," said the man slapping his forehead.  "I've got that many Italian supercars I keep forgetting which are which.  I'm such a goof-ball sometimes."

"There's not much Italian in a French car owned by a German company." commented Captain Quantum suspiciously.

"Oh right!" said the man.

"I can see what's happening here?"

"Can you?" asked the man swallowing hard.

"Yes, you're clearly locked out of your own car and need some assistance to get back into the vehicle.  Am I right?"

"Why yes you are," exclaimed the man smiling.  "Please can you assist in me because I don’t know where I left the keys?"

"It would be my pleasure, citizen."

Agent Two coughed suddenly into his hand and the superhero looked over his shoulder.

"I got this covered, sir.  Don't worry about me."

Suddenly Captain Quantum clicked his fingers and he vanished in a vacuum of air and re-appeared sat inside the Bugatti Veyron.

Agent Two wandered over and fixed the man with a stern look.

"You are not the owner of that car, are you?"

"Define ownership; it's so loosely used these days." said the man shrugging his shoulders.

Inside the vehicle Captain Quantum fiddled around with something for a moment then opened the door of the car and stepped out onto the pavement.

"There you go citizen, and I also took the liberty of disabling the alarm and immobilizer for you."

The scruffy man rubbed his hands together and lowered himself into the car.

"Can you find the key?" asked Captain Quantum leaning over the door and looking in.

"Just give me a moment." said the man with his head under the steering column as he pulled out all the wires.

A few seconds later the engine roared into life and the man pressed his foot onto the accelerator a couple of times with a wide grin on his face.

"It's almost like he's never sat in a million pound vehicle before." remarked Agent Two in mock surprise.

"I'll be seeing you then." said the man closing the door in a hurry.

They watched as the man stared down at the gearbox with a mystified look on his face then glanced up at his watching spectators.  Stepping forward Agent Two tapped on the window and after a second the man lowered it down.

"You put it in either automatic mode or full manual through the paddle shifters." said Agent Two.

"I knew that.  Not used to these paddle-shifty things."

"Safe driving." said Captain Quantum.

The man looked over his shoulder then into the rear-view mirror before edging away slowly from the curb.  He jerked the car forward, then paused and jerked it forward once again, before careering off down the road in a squeal of tires and smoke.

"He sure was in a hurry to get away." murmured the superhero.

Agent Two rubbed his eyes, shook his head and wrote something down on the clipboard in short sharp strokes.

"Is something the matter, sir?"

"You do know you just aided and abetted a car thief, don't you?"

"Of course I did."

"Really?  Because from where I was stood it looked like you opened the car door for him, took out the alarm and immobilizer, and just let him drive off with the vehicle."

"What you didn’t know sir, was that I attached a global positioning system tracking device inside the car and GPS from the Ex-Men is tracking that vehicle as we speak.  The way I look at it is, that it's such a high value car that surely the car thief must be working for a bigger organization.  What's the point in just catching the one man when we can follow him back to where he goes and bring the entire organization down in one swoop?  Did I do the right thing, sir?"

"That's exactly what I would have done, rookie." said Agent Two.

13.

Brixton hoods versus Peckham boys

The tall, thin youth in the hoodie strutted up with a confident swagger, his dark eyes fixed up ahead at the rival gang lined up at the corner of the newsagents with the boarded-up windows.

Following behind him were twenty fellow gang members of the Brixton Hoods, trading insults and waving their baseballs bats, knives and clubs at the waiting mob who roared back in defiance.  Pausing a few feet away the youth raised his right arm into the air and seeing the command his crew stopped and stood facing the Peckham Boys, shouting obscenities and hurling wads of phlegm into their ranks as they squared up to one another.

Another youth, wearing a cap perched side-ways on his head with a thick gold chain around his tattooed neck pushed and shoved his way to the front of the Peckham Boys and stood before the hooded boy nose-to-nose and unflinching.

“You’re on my turf, bitch!” shouted the hooded youth clenching his fists.  "Why you up in my ends messin’ in my biznezz finkin’ you all bad?”

“Bitch, this is my district your mama gave it to me over dinner last night.” spat the cap wearing gang leader.

“Fool, my mama would shank your sorry ass.  Ain’t that right mama?” he said looking around over his shoulder.

“I’d cut him real good, Jamal.” shrieked an old woman’s voice from the back holding a broken piece of glass with a wrapped towel for a handle.

“Thanks mama.” said Jamal tapping his heart with a clenched fist.

“Is yo mama at the back coz’ she so fat and needs a head-start to run away, bitch?”

There were gasps of shock from the Brixton Hoods and the hooded youth raised his hands to silence them.

“Did you just diss’ my mama?” he whispered icily.  “Oh no you di-int, because my mama raise no punk ass bee-atch.  If dat’s what’s goin’ down here then we got a problem, fool.”

“Bring it on, battle me rite now.” said the leader of the Peckham Boys spreading his arms.

Jamal narrowed his eyes menacingly and a hush fell over both rival gangs as they waited for the contest to start.  After a few moments he looked around at his fellow Brixton Hoods who nodded their heads in encouragement at him before he turned back to face his adversary.

“Yo mama is so fat she went to KFC to get a bucket of chicken they asked her what size and she said the one on the roof.” he said.

There was a chorus of laughter from the Brixton Hoods and a singular snort from with the ranks of the Peckham Boys.  The youth in the cap turned to look at his own crew and honed in on the lone figure that had an embarrassed smirk plastered across his face.

“What-chu laughing at, Morris?” he snapped.

“Sorry, Daryl.” he said with his smile instantly vanishing.

“Bitch is embarrassing me.” muttered Daryl adjusting his cap in irritation before turning back to Jamal.

“Bring it on.” said Jamal cockily.

Daryl hawked and spat onto the ground before staring intently into the eyes of the hooded youth.

“Yo mama so fat she goes to KFC and licks other peoples fingers.” he replied.

There was some scattered applause and Daryl nodded his head in appreciation.

“Well, yo mama so fat that she dont need the internet, she's already world-wide."

"Yo Mama so fat that when she wears a Orange tracksuit and walks up the hill, people think the sun is rising."

"Yo mama so fat she wears neck deodorant."

"Yo mama so fat her blood type is Nutella."

"Yo momma so fat her idea of dieting is deleting the cookies from the internet browser."

"Yo mama so fat she jumped in the air and got stuck."

"Yo mama so fat that when whe was born, she gave the hospital stretch marks."

"Yo mama so fat people jog around her for exercise."

"Yo momma so fat her cereal bowl comes with a life guard."

"Yo mama so fat she puts mayonnaise on Paracetamol."

"Yo momma so fat she made Jabba the Hut go daaammmnnn,"

"Yo mama so fat she pulls her pants down and her ass is still in them."

"Yo mama so fat the shadow of her ass weighs a hundred pounds."

"Yo mama so fat when she walks past the television you miss three episodes."

"Enough!" shouted Daryl raising his hands.  "The only way we iz gunna' sort this out is by spillin' some blood, plus I can't think of any more mama insults."

"Fine by me." snarled Jamal reaching into his hoodie and pulled out a gleaming sharp knife.  "Iz you ready for this, crew?"

"Stick that sonovabitch, Jamal." yelled a woman at the back.

"Thanks mama."

The two rival gangs hefted their weapons and tensed ready for a blood battle at the corner of the newsagents when suddenly a man in a black suit ran across the street placing himself between the two opposing gangs.

"Wait!" he shouted staring at each gang leader.

"Who dis punk ass lil white boy?" growled Daryl poised with his fist raised and brass knuckle dusters aimed at Jamal.

"Are you sum kinda' lawyer or sum tin, white boy?" asked Jamal brandishing the blade menacingly.

"Just please hold the open hostility to each other," said the man raising his voice as loud as he could.  "My name is Agent One and the man stood looking disinterested on the other side of the road is my colleague, Mocker the Snidekick."

The gang members all swiveled to look at a young man leant casually against a lamppost across the main road.  He was wearing a tight spandex red outfit with an 'M' on the chest and a long red cape.

When he saw them looking he raised his middle finger and held it there for an exorbitant length of time.

" Are you trippin?  Did that punk jus do what I fink he did?" asked Jamal frowning.

"It would appear that he did," said Agent One through gritted teeth.  "Just no-one kill each other just yet while I go have a quick word with my colleague, okay?"

The agent skipped across the main road and stood before Mocker the Snidekick with his eyebrows raised.

"Just a minor observation, Robert," snapped Agent One with a forced smile on his lips.  "In a highly volatile situation such as this, in an atmosphere of intimidation, do you think it's wise to antagonize the gang of violent thugs all with various forms of weaponry?"

"Suppose so." grumbled Mocker the Snidekick lowering his hand reluctantly.

"This situation needs to be handled carefully and delicately, do you understand?"

"Carefully and delicately." replied Mocker.

"That's right."

"Like how you would handle a butterfly?"

"Yes, as gently as that."

"Like a butterfly holding a deadly shank ready to kill and maim?"

"Slightly going off-topic there Robert, now come over to the other side of the road with me and let's deal with this situation."

Nodding his head and sighing theatrically, Mocker pushed himself off the lamppost and they strolled over to the two rival gangs who were still staring at them in puzzlement.

"Apologies ladies and gentlemen," said Agent One.  "We're just doing a little bit of field training.  My name is Agent One, my colleague is Mocker the Snidekick and we represent S.H.I.T which is an organization dedicated to ridding crime from the streets of London."

"Fool, I'm running these streets!" snapped Daryl.

"Technically it's the London Assembly which is the elected watchdog for the capital made up of twenty five assembly members, but don’t let that little fact stop you."

"Man, you tryin to clown on me?"

"Not at all young man, we're down and hip with turf wars and youth gang culture, aren’t we Mocker?"

"You're darn tootin'." replied Mocker smiling.

"Lose the street lingo." hissed Agent One.

"Why is this cracker cheezin so big?" asked Jamal pointing at the superhero.

"Lose the mocking smile." hissed Agent One.

"Look brah, you need to check yo homeboy b'fore I check him!"

Mocker turned to look at the agent then back towards Jamal.

"Do people really talk like that?" asked Mocker politely.

"Oh, boy keep talkin' coz I iz ready to shank your white ass."

"Mocker, please stop mocking the knife-wielding hooded young man.  We need to diffuse the situation.  Soothe and calm, soothe and calm.  Plus you know this will be reflected poorly in my statistics back at HQ you see."

"But I can see his lips moving but I can't understand the noises." moaned Mocker.

"Let me ax you somtin!" yelled Jamal.  "Why iz you dressed like a fool?"

"So says the ghetto thug wearing the baggy jeans and over-sized hoodie."

"Man, this clown's gunna get smoked."

"Easy, easy, easy," said Agent One interrupting.  "All we're here to do is help and see if we can come to some sort of peaceful resolution here.  Tell me, I know each gang claims allegiance to a certain geographic location, so whose territory are we on?"

"This iz our turf and no-one touches our turf without our permission." said Jamal glaring at Daryl.

"Fool, this is our turf now.  Yo mama gave it to me over breakfast." retorted Daryl smirking.

"I'll pop a cap in his ass." yelled Jamal angrily.

"Pop a cap?  What does that mean exactly?" asked Mocker mystified.

"It means he gunna shoot his sorry ass." yelled a woman from the back.

"Ain't dat right, mama." said Jamal nodding his head.

"What?  wait…you’re a woman?" asked Mocker peering at the back.

"That's my mama so don't get all up in her grill unless you want her to put a cap in your ass."

"I think I'm getting to the root of the problem," remarked Agent One tapping his chin thoughtfully.  "There seems to be a lot of references to one’s mother.  Now I'm sure it hurts terribly when we insult one's mother publically, but they're only words boys and girls.  Can't we just all get along?"

"He called my mama fat." snapped Jamal pointing at Daryl with the knife.

"She sat on my iPhone and turned it into an iPad." retorted Daryl innocently.

"I heard enough of diz." shouted a woman's voice from the back.

Suddenly a hugely obese woman began pushing herself through the crowd of Brixton Hoods.  She waddled a few steps breathing heavily then paused to stop and rest before moving again towards the front.

Mocker stared at her thighs rubbing together with a grimace on his face then leaned over to the agent.

"Good lord, I've seen tectonic plates move faster." he whispered in awe.

She finally stood next to Jamal with sweat streaming from her corpulent face while holding a large bag of crisps in one hand and a broken piece of glass with a wrapped towel in the other.

"Does my mama look fat to you?" asked Jamal.

"Don't answer that." said Agent One quickly.

"I can't help myself." replied Mocker.  "It's my superpowers."

"Don’t say it."

"But the words are coming out."

"Don’t!" Agent One warned forcefully.

"So…is my mama fat?" asked Jamal again.

"About average." replied Agent One.

Mocker snorted as all eyes looked at him.

"Some tin to say about my mama, punk ass white boy?"

"Yes, I have some general observations really.  The back of her neck looks like a pack of hotdogs, and can I ask what her belt size is?  Is it equator?"

There were gasps of shock from both rival gangs and the woman's mouth dropped open.

"That was a mistake." said Agent One sighing.

"Did you just say steak?" asked the fat woman licking her lips.

"I bet her belly button must make an echo and just look at her hairy armpits, it's like she's got King Kong in a headlock." said Mocker pointing.

"Are you gunna let this fool diss your mama like dat?" asked Daryl turning to Jamal.

"I iz gunna kick his ass." growled Jamal hefting the knife.

"We'll help you." offered the leader of the Peckham Boys.

"At least some good has come of this," said Agent One.  "We've someone united the two rival gangs.  Now I suggest we do something else."

"What's that?"

"Run!"