Return of a Hero

Author — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 03:47:44 +0000

I had one shot. One chance to prove to myself that I still had what it took. One opportunity to put it all behind me.
Naturally I took it. Sure, Cam had offered me a spot on the team. Sure, I could go back to active duty. I’d passed all of the tests. I was faster and stronger than before. But those tests weren’t under fire. I couldn’t know for sure how I would function in the heat of battle. I couldn’t risk their lives like that.
So there I was. Back in my city. New York, New York. It’s a hell of a town.
But not for long.
Because Talon’s back.
<><><>
The pain was unbearable. It was a constant searing agony. I could feel the air on the space where my shoulder joint had once been, and it hurt. I could smell nothing but my own blood. I was numb from the waist down, which was probably for the best. My leg was gone too. Torn off, just like my arm.
By a dragon of all things. A dragon!
My arm and leg had gone the same way as my team-mates before it. Minerva, my sister, in spirit if not in blood, and my brothers Pike and Blowout. All dead, and I knew I was going to follow them soon. I could feel the lifeblood draining away.
Then the girl, Iaso, from Hire-A-Hero, healed me. She stopped the bleeding, sealed the wounds, and erased my pain.
My physical pain at least.
<><><>
The first person at my bedside had been Cam. GL, the leader of the West Coast Boomers. I guess it’s just ‘The Boomers’ now. He offered support, financially and emotionally. We’d been good friends for years, but I longed for Minerva.
Next was my adopted father, Ralph Davis. The Blackbird. My mentor. He was emotional. He told me he was just glad to have me back, and how proud he was of everything I had done with my life. Like it was over. I know he didn’t mean it, but he put me in a dark place.
The next day, my husband Dan arrived, with my daughter, Cheryl, which helped. Gave me hope.
Over the next week, a multitude of heroes passed through my hospital ward. A veritable who’s who. Miss Liberty, both Uncle Sams, the second American Eagle, Statuesque, even Thunderbolt stopped in on his way to Paraguay.
But one man changed my life. Don Harris. Formerly known as Junker. Probably the finest mind in cybernetic enhancements, he had fought crime for decades, and led the West Coast Boomers for a decade, wearing a powered armour he built himself. He retired from the hero game last year, and took a job working for the government, designing a new version of the ‘Patriot’ Armour. His prototype was in the testing phase at that point, and he had some spare time on his hands. So he offered to help me out.
He might have retired from the superhero game, but he still found a way to save me.
<><><>
Months of recovery, two major surgeries and a painful rehabilitation, and worth every minute of it.
I stood. On my own two feet. I clenched my own two fists.
“Careful Maggie, you’ve got to get used to them. You’re stronger now.” Don’s voice buzzed over the intercom.
I was standing in the Boom Room, the West Coast Boomer’s training facility. Three feet of concrete protected the outside world from what usually went on here.
“Got it Don.” I said, before gingerly taking a step. The leg held. I smiled. Confident now, I took a few more steps. So long as I remembered to step lightly with my new leg, everything was completely fine.
“Good work Maggie, but don’t get too confident. Baby steps.” Don buzzed.
I ignored him. I could walk again! I started off at a trot.
“Maggie. Careful. It’s your first day.” Don warned.
“I’m fine!” I shouted, breaking into a run. It was easy.
“Maggie, what do you think you’re doing?” Don yelled back.
“Watch and learn!” I laughed, as I leapt towards a set of uneven bars. At least, that was my intention.
For a regular person, jumping is easy. Your legs both take the weight of your whole body, and pushes you up in one go.
When one leg is more than five times the strength of the other, however, things are a little more difficult…
I tumbled sideways, my left leg was far too powerful, and my jump was terribly unbalanced. Easy fix, I’d just vault back up with my hands, as soon as I hit the ground. Remembering to compensate this time…
I didn’t compensate enough, and next thing I knew, I was laying flat on my back.
“I’d hate to say ‘I told you so’ Maggie, but…”
“I know, I know. Take it slow.”
<><><>
It took weeks to get used to the difference in strength in my new right arm, and left leg, but I was finally ready.
I wasn’t as fit as I had been, but I was close. A few more weeks in the gym, and I would be as good as new. In the mean time, I had to make sure I still had the skills to be a hero.
So there I was, standing atop the Empire State Building, looking down upon my city. A flash of red and blue was all I needed to see, as I leapt southwards, towards the source of the police lights. Positioning my body to allow my left leg to be the central force behind my jump had become second nature, as I did a somersault in the air, before activating the intelli-sensors in my glove.
My cape became rigid, as the edges hardened and spread out, like wings. I dove towards the flashing lights, and as I got closer, I found a police chase in progress. Perfect.
I sailed over the top of the traffic, over the police car, and on top of their target.
The car swerved, the driver had no idea what was going on. Just in time, I spotted the gun pointed at me from within the car, and I turned, taking the clip he unloaded with my right arm, sending the bullets ricocheting in all directions. I grabbed the man’s arm, and started to lift him out the window, the car swerving to-and-fro beneath me. How I had missed this.
I had the man’s head and shoulders outside the car. He could see me. His face was obscured by a ski mask, but I could see his eyes, as the realisation dawned, and the fear began enveloping him. I could see his mouth, as he shouted “HOLY SH*T! IT’S TALON!”.
I laughed, and dropped him back into the car. I looked around for a moment. The traffic had thinned. I could act safely now.
I activated a second intelli-sensor, and the winch attached to my belt whirred to life. I grabbed the end of the 300 feet of carbon-fibre cable, and pinned it to the roof of the car with a shuriken. I leapt off the roof of the car, activating my cape’s glider mode once more, parasailing from the roof of the car.
I pressed a button on my new arm, and a compartment opened. I pulled a box of caltrops from my belt, and loaded them in.
“Let’s see how you drive without tyres.” I laughed, as I fired the caltrops onto the road ahead.
Moments later, I heard the satisfying pop of tyres, followed by the screech of brakes, as the crooks struggled to control the car. Moments later was the crash, as they hit a fire hydrant, and came to a sudden stop.
I switched on the winch, and pulled myself back down to the car, disengaging when I was a safe distance from the ground, and landing with a flourish, as the police arrived.
“Talon… Is that you?” One of the policemen asked.
“You bet it is.” I replied.
“Oh my god, is it good to have you back ma’am.” A second said.
“Thank you.” I smiled.
They were right.
Talon was back.

LessThanThree Comics Presents » Talon

Return of a Hero