Breakable

Breakable

Mark A Davis

259

It was late evening.  Grandpa Anarchy, world's oldest hero, hunkered down amid the tall grass on the seaside bluff next to his current sidekick.  A cool night breeze blew the scent of saltwater and the cries of seagulls.

Below, men on a dock were busy unloading boxes from a ship -- but oddly, they worked in silence and near total darkness.  Grandpa watched through binoculars.  He handed then to his sidekick.

"He's there," Grandpa said.  "He's always so very careful to avoid being associated with his dirty work, but this is an important shipment and he's worried that workers have been stealing from him.  Tonight he decided to show up in person.  We've got him!"

"Oooh," said the sidekick, peering through the binoculars.  "They really look shady!"  After a long pause, she added, "Just one question:  Who are they, and what are they doing?"

Grandpa's sidekick was a young woman with hazelnut skin and black hair done up in cornrow braids.  She wore a leotard with a scooped neck and loose sleeves that had a glass-like surface.  There were wraparound mirror shades and knee-high boots with the same polished surface.  She called herself the Glass Cannon.

Grandpa Anarchy, dressed in his usual rumpled gray suit with the anarchy symbol stitched in silver thread over the left breast, sighed.  "You've been shooting these guys all week with your fancy energy blasts, and you don't even know who they are?"

The sidekick shrugged.  "You said they were bad guys," she said.

"These guys are smugglers," said Grandpa.  "They work for a criminal kingpen that I've been trying to take down for years."

"Oooh,  got it," said the sidekick.  After another moment she added, "So what are they smuggling?"

"Lollipops," said Grandpa.

"Lollipops?" the Glass Cannon replied.  "What...."

"Lollipops laced with fentanyl," said Grandpa.  "One hundred times more powerful than morphine."

"Oh!" exclaimed the sidekick.  "That is shady!"

"More than just shady," said Grandpa.  "It's illegal -- and a danger to the public.  We need to put a stop to it.  You see that big bald guy in the center of everything?  Wearing a fancy suit?"

"I see him," said the Glass Cannon.

"That's Ichabod Berelli of I.B. Enterprises," said Grandpa Anarchy.  "Better known as Idiot Ball."

"The Big Boss!" said the Glass Cannon.  "Got it!  I can take him out from here!"

"Great," said Grandpa, "but first we want to  get closer and get all of this on film, because...."

A blinding bolt of white energy shot from the hillside.  It struck the criminal kingpin in the back, knocking him forward eight feet.  "Got him!" the Glass Cannon exclaimed.

"What?" Grandpa exclaimed.  "No!  What are you...."

Gunfire erupted.  Below them people were shouting and running about.  Some lifted their boss up and carried him to a waiting sedan, while others shoved boxes into the back of the van as quickly as they could.  The rest spread out, heading for the cliff, firing shots at the darkened hillside.  A bullet whizzed past Grandpa's ear.  "Aw, Hades!" he swore.  "Don't let them get away!"

Grandpa Anarchy drew his gun and charged down the hillside.  "Right behind you, Grandpa!" his sidekick exclaimed.

Grandpa reached the base of the hill.  He shot one man in the arm.  The second he slugged in the jaw.  As the man spun, Grandpa grabbed him and used his body as a shield.

Bullets flew.  Several hit the man Grandpa held.  He shot another gunman, then ditched the body and charged two more.  Behind him, he heard the Glass Cannon yell out, "I'm hit!  I'm hit!  Grandpa, go on without me!"

Grandpa Anarchy swore.  Both the truck and the sedan were pulling out.  He tried to aim for the sedan's tires, but one beefy man in a suit slammed a fist into his arm and knocked him to the ground.

"I'm bleeding bad!" his sidekick called out.  "Tell mother I loved her!"

Grandpa grappled with the much heavier man, rolling on the ground until he was able to get in several good punches.  The man's eyes rolled up into his head.

Grandpa grabbed his gun, spun and shot two more thugs, and then realized that  there was no one else left on the dock.  The rest had gotten away.

Swearing, Grandpa stood and made his way back to his sidekick, who lay writhing in the brush at the base of the cliff.

"I'm a goner," said the Glass Cannon.  "Tell Fernando that I really had fun on Valentine's Day.  He's a nice boy.  I really liked him.  If only...."

"Here, let me see that," said Grandpa.  He inspected the wound.  He frowned.

"You know," he said, "I had a sidekick once.  Young black man, back in 1970.  Packed a wicked mean punch, but he was almost useless in a fight, and you know why?  One punch -- even a glancing blow -- and he was down for the count.  Every.  Single.  Time."

"I'm dying here, Granpda," said the girl.  "It's not exactly the time to be telling stories, but... that sounds kind of like my father.  His name was the Glass Jaw."

"Yeah," said Grandpa.  He produced a bandaid and applied it to the wound -- barely a scratch.  "I sort of figured that was the case."

FINI