Those little freaks had gotten ahold of his cell phone number again.
There would have to be a confrontation about that sooner or later, of course, somewhere in private where judicious amounts of fear could be inflicted without anything uncomfortable being seen by the media. But not this time.
Normally it was painfully obvious when it was the groupies calling. There would be several seconds of giggling after he answered, followed by several more seconds of hushed background conversation as they tried to reach consensus on what to say. And by that time, he’d already have hung up and arranged to change the number again.
But this time, there was no hesitation. They had a specific message for him, and for once it was a message worth his time to listen to.
His favorite weapon, it seemed, was fixing to fly the coop. Was getting out of Dodge. And that didn’t fit in with the plan.
So, early on a Saturday afternoon, Captain Hammer found himself at LAX, looking for a missing Penny. Normally pennies weren’t even worth bending over to pick up if you dropped one, and normally this one wouldn’t be either. But there was a point that was in the process of being made, and he needed her for that. For now.
The three weirdos met him in the concourse. They were obviously pleased with themselves to the point of near incoherence, having just a) summoned the Captain himself into their presence, and b) done something that might eventually result in an expression of gratitude from him.
“Where is she?” he asked them roughly. No gratitude until they earned it.
“In the food court… with Starbucks!” squeaked the cute Chinese-or-whatever chick, who would have fainted dead away if she’d known Captain Hammer had actually pictured her naked a couple of times.
He favored them with a tight smile. “Might as well come along and see some heroism in action, then,” he said magnanimously, and stalked off toward the food court.
* * * * *
She was there, all right. Sitting alone at a little table, sipping from a plastic cup of coffee and studying a magazine. The Captain stayed out of sight behind a column while he took a moment to assess the situation.
This was Horrible’s doing, of course. He’d somehow convinced Penny to run away with him… or to him, depending on whether he would join her on this end of the trip or the other. He’d had the presence of mind to disguise her a bit, having her dress differently than usual… way more colorful and stylish threads than the drab crap she usually wore. Horrible must have had that queer henchman of his pick out her clothes. The Captain might not have even recognized her if he hadn’t been looking for her. But honestly, it was one half-hearted and crappy disguise job. Typical.
It was troubling, to know that twit had somehow talked Penny into leaving him. Maybe he’d offered her a henching position? Hammer himself had toyed with the idea of making her a sidekick, but the sidekicks’ union would probably want no part of her. The henchmen’s union might have different standards, though. How would the costume work out? She was too skinny for lycra, but the thigh-high leather boots and matching teddy might work. Good girl, but looks like a bad girl? Good irony there. Might work. Food for thought.
So Horrible had made more progress with Penny than expected… so what? After all, the Captain couldn’t enjoy foiling that idiot’s every move if he never actually made any.
He knew what he had to do.
Penny was a romantic… the kind of girl who’d asked for a unicorn for Christmas when she was eight, and who always put those stupid little keyboard hearts in her text messages to him… <3 <3 <3.
So this called for the Captain Hammer specialty… romantic charm combined with a sexy serving of brute force.
When Penny got up to throw her empty coffee cup in the trash, he moved in. Snuck up behind her and, without a word, swept her off her feet into his arms.
She gave only a slight gasp of surprise, rather than the Penny-ish squeak he was expecting. As he hefted her up to a horizontal position, she kicked out her legs and let her body continue the motion he’d started. She executed a neat backflip out of his arms, kneeing him in the nose on the way past, and ending up by sticking a perfect three-point landing in a crouching position.
While he was still staring in shock down at his empty arms, she snapped out a sweep-kick that took his legs out from under him and left him flat on his back. Instantly, she was on top of him. And not in the good way.
Penny’s eyes glared down at him with the kind of hatred he’d never even thought her capable of… had Horrible hit her with some kind of Testosterone Ray or something? And now, she was menacing him with what looked like a pair of purple knitting needles.
“Weapons, honey?” he said, holding his palms up in a placating gesture. “Look, I don’t know what that numb-nuts did to your pretty little head, but you know those things won’t do the job on me.”
Without a word she jammed the things in question through his shirt into his nipples. With a crackle of electricity, they sent, oh, a few hundred joules, give or take, coursing into him. His hair blew in its own electric breeze, and the Hammer withdrew right back into the abdominal cavity.
“Okay… doing the job… definitely doing the job…” he conceded in a quivering voice that had suddenly acquired an impressive octave range.
Penny leapt back off of him, snapping into a defensive position with the needles. Hammer took the opportunity to get to his feet as fast as his blurry mind would let him. As soon as he did, he felt himself grabbed from behind by his belt-loop, and his feet swept from under him for the second time in less than two minutes. Before he could even register what was happening the world flipped upside down, and he found himself the reluctant recipient of a beautifully executed Texas Piledriver.
“Oog,” he protested.
When his eyes cleared, he looked up from the floor to see Penny’s angry face staring down at him, joined by that of a dark-haired girl he’d never seen before. Another girl? Yes, definitely a Testosterone Ray at work here.
Rolling to the side, he staggered to his feet. Time for a tactical retreat here to process new intel and formulate new plans.
“Honey, I know you’re mad about something…” he tripped over an aluminum chair. “…And I want you to know your feelings are important to me…” a trash can went crashing to the ground. “…I think you should call me tonight when you feel like talking, alright?” He crashed into a pillar, leaving a dent, and then, having reached the edge of the food court, took advantage of his clear path of retreat.
The two women watched him go. “You okay, Vi?” the dark-haired one asked. “Think we should go after him?”
“No. We’ll need backup.” Vi pulled a satellite phone out of her pocket and made a call.
“Kira? This is Vi, authentication Violet NY one-three-echo-sierra. I need Strike Team Alpha scrambled and on-site immediately. Open a portal and have them at my coordinates inside of ten. Kennedy’s with me, she’ll oversee the deployment. And put me through to Buffy, top priority.”
Kennedy looked at the three odd people who stood there gaping at her and Vi. They all wore matching t-shirts decorated with a hammer inside a yellow circle.
“What are you, Communists or something?” she asked.
“We can be, if you want,” said the Asian girl with a look of pure adoration.
Kennedy shook her head. “Sorry, sister. You’re cute, but I’m taken.”
“Buffy?” Vi was saying into the phone. “We have a situation here.”
“It’s Caleb. He’s back.”
And the Captain’s day just kept getting worse from that point on.