The Contact
Rand pulled the car into a parking garage adjacent to the Graveport Center Mall, where he drove all the way up to the 4th level before pulling into a space in the far north corner.
"I'm meeting my contact here," the detective explained to Asher as he leaned back in his seat. "You're a fan of superheroes, right? I wonder if you'll recognize the guy."
"Well you said 'he' so I guess that partially narrows it down," Asher shrugged. "I can't believe you actually got a hero in on this. I'm guessing he'll never know the true reason why I'm going into hiding."
"And if this plan works out, he shouldn't have to," Rand nodded, before looking down the rows of parking spaces towards the freight elevator. "Oh, there's our man now."
Standing at nearly 7 feet tall was a massive, burly man with a smooth bald head and was dressed in a tight-fitting black tanktop. His tight blue jeans showed off his muscular build, and pale skin gleamed from beneath what looked like tanning oil. A large duffel bag slung over his back, he waved towards the detective's car upon catching sight of Rand inside.
"What's up, Clive? It's been a while," the man greeted in a deep voice as he leaned against the car, before looking towards the passenger side. "So this is the guy I'm babysitting out in the sticks, eh? What's up, man?"
"Hey there," Asher greeted with a smile, before snapping his fingers. "Shoot, you look so familiar, but I can't put a name to your face."
"Oh yeah? How about now?"
Flexing his muscles, the man's skin suddenly became lustrous and gleaming as his whole body turned into solid gold.
"Haha wow, Gold Boxer! Of course, I didn't recognize you without the—well, without the gold," Asher clapped. "It's an honor to meet you, sir. I promise I won't be any trouble."
"I'm not worried about that, but what kind of trouble did you get in to need to go into witness protection?" the hero asked.
"That's classified for now, and believe me, you don't want to know," Clive chuckled. "Well, shall we get going then? Your flight leaves in 2 hours."
"Flight? And what do you mean, you're not coming with us?" the paramedic asked.
"Iowa is pretty far, kid, and no, I have to stay back here," Rand replied as he took a sip from his flask. "But don't worry, Brad here will take good care of you."
"Brad? You're just going to name-drop my alias now?" Gold Boxer scoffed as he squeezed into the back seat of the sedan, his skin returning to normal. "And are you still drinking like a fish? I wish you'd stop. Unless that thing is filled with iced coffee or something."
"It's my life blood, and don't judge your elder," the detective reminded the hero as he began to back out of the parking space, before leaning into Asher. "You get any more texts from our friend?"
Turning his phone towards him, Asher showed Rand the most recent text from Passion Princess.
"Babe, I'm worried about you. I get the feeling that some bad people are trying to get a piece of you. Don't worry, I have my resources. I know you might have just been trying to protect me, but I'll get to the bottom of this," It read.
"Fuck. I wonder what she knows," the detective muttered as he drove off. "I hope she isn't in our system."
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"Javier Noland? Can you come out here and talk?" Passion Princess yelled towards the looming, dilapidated cement factory in front of her. Long-abandoned and sitting on the outskirts of Graveport, it served as the base of operation for a certain crime syndicate.
Stationed on various parts of the crumbing structure were dozens are armed men, their guns trained on the caped woman. Shrugging, the blonde heroine began to walk towards the factory.
"D-dammit, why the hell is someone like fucking Passion Princess here?!" Javier Noland, boss of the hallucinogen-distributing Dream Syndicate, yelled from his office as he slammed his fist down onto his desk while one of his men told him who was waiting for him outside. "Light her up! Fill her with every bullet that you can!"
"But uh—boss? Isn't she bulletproof?" the lackey asked, scratching his head.
"Just shoot at her!!" the drug lord yelled, his rainbow-colored suit and greased-back yellow hair trembling as he stood up. "You bozos are going to cover me while I haul my ass!"
With that, the many men stationed outside rained hell upon Passion Princess. The gunfire of 30+ firearms barreled into her tall, curvaceous body, sending an explosion of sparks around her as the bullets ricocheted or exploded across her solid figure.
"Ugh, I don't really have time to humanely beat the shit out of all you, so I'm just going to stand here and wait until you run out of ammo," the heroine sighed as she crossed her arms and tapped her boot. The sparks continued to fly as all the projectiles harmlessly flattened themselves against her, and after a near 30 second barrage of non-stop firing, the salvo began to slow down until the last pistol fell silent.
As the goons lowered their weapons, staring nervously at the overpowered woman, Passion Princess casually lifted off the ground and glided up to the top of the factory. Walking inside the building and through the dusty hallways, she ran into two more men, who made a half-assed attempted at slashing at her with a katana sword that each one wielded, only for the blades to break across her body. Glaring at them, she continued on her way as the horrified guards lowered their heads and raised their arms in surrender.
"Alright, gotta go, gotta go," Javier muttered to himself as he loaded some of his still to be laundered cash into a briefcase, before turning to leave his office. He froze as Passion Princess kicked down his door.
"Javier, I got something I need to ask you," the heroine stated sternly as she stomped her boot down onto the large wood desk in front of him.
"F-fuck!! What do you want with me?" the mob boss cried as he rose to his feet, his hand trembling as he pointed a revolver towards her. "First you raid one of my stash houses, and now my headquarters? That's normally the work for a hero at much lower caliber. What's with the grudge against my operations?"
"I was just bored that day with the stash house, but this visit is personal," Passion Princess hissed as she leaned towards him. "The man that I love is going into witness protection because someone is obviously threatening him. Is that someone you? Did he somehow get wrapped up with your gang?"
"W-what? I mean, we deal with hallucinogens, they're fun drugs! We're not really a violent lot," Javier chuckled nervously.
"I don't know about that, I took a lot of bullets just now," the heroine stated flatly as her foot broke through the solid desk as if it were made of cardboard. "Now tell me. Do you have a hit on Asher Avril? Did you threaten him?"
"The name doesn't ring a bell, honestly," the boss shrugged as he looked down at the crumpled wood.
Sighing, Passion Princess reached over the now-destroyed desk and grabbed Javier by his suit, pulled him forward, and flipped him onto his back before reaching a hand down and holding her open palm over his groin.
"W-what are you—
"Did you know that I can casually bend a sheet of steel in my grip?" the heroine asked as she began to close her fingers up on the boss's crotch. "Do you know what kind of force that requires? About 114 tons or so, I think. Now just imagine what a grip like that would do to your little cock right here?"
"A-AHHH!!! What the hell? Please don't!" Javier cried as he dropped his gun and raised his hands. "Take me to jail, I surrender!"
"TELL ME. ASHER AVRIL. DO YOU KNOW THAT NAME?" Passion Princess yelled, her voice so loud that it shattered windows and caused the room to shake.
"Please, I don't know anything, I swear to you!!" the boss begged as he felt the grip on his crotch tighten still. "N-NOO!! PLEASE!!"
As the man continued to beg, scream, and cry, Passion Princess sighed again as she sensed that he was telling the truth, being willing to turn himself in and give up his thriving drug enterprise to escape his family jewels being pulverized.
Releasing her grip, she stood up and wordlessly blasted through the ceiling and into the sky.
"Fucking bitch," Javier panted, clutching his chest as he leaned back, sniffling to himself. Suddenly, the entire room as well as the whole building itself quickly began to freeze over as ice rushed through and covered almost every surface.
Coughing at the sudden cold, Javier rushed to his feet and nearly slid back down as the floor on which he walked was now as slippery as a fresh rink. Sliding through the halls and emerging at the top of the factory, his mouth gaped open as he looked upon his ice-encrusted drug palace, along with his many henchmen that now looked rather cold and frigid.