[Act] The Night Guard (M)

Ok, this story is actually a product of several things. First off, I've always liked reading comics, and thus I've always wanted to do a superhero story. This story takes inspiration from darker superhero material like The Dark Knight, Watchmen, and The Punisher This story is also a product of ideas I considered for my other story Fires of Prometheus, but I thought were too dark, or didn't fit in a futuristic setting. The character himself is kinda based on a combination between the Punisher and Batman's morals with Iron Man's technology. His back story will be explained in the first chapter.

Anyway, here is The Night Guard. Please leave comments.
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Prologue

2:26 AM November 20, 2012- Chicago Illinois

Ray Jenkins stood on the roof of the CNA Center, asking himself for the millionth time why he was up here in the middle of the night. He knew of course that this was the best time and place to conduct the sort of transactions he did, but he still asked himself anyway. In the distance he heard the helicopter. Finally he thought to himself they were supposed to be here over an hour ago.

He gestured to his men and began walking toward the chopper as it set down. A man got out and began taking off boxes. Each of these boxes contained 10 kilos of cocaine, all the way from Columbia.

“You’re late.” Ray said to the pilot. “You were supposed to be here at 1:00.”

“We had a little trouble getting this **** through customs. I had to throw around some graft.” The pilot said. “You got my money?”

“40 grand, all in 20’s” Ray said, handing the pilot a briefcase.

“Look asswipe, the deal was for 50 Gs, no less.’ The man said angrily.

“Well then, I guess we’ll just count the difference as late charges.” Ray said, drawing his .45 “Now, take your money, get your ass back on the chopper, and get the **** out-”

Ray stopped talking as he heard a low whine. A black figure suddenly dropped out of the sky between them. It turned and grabbed the pilot by the throat and crushed his neck with a loud crack.

“You both are about to lose your asses on the deal.” The figure said in mechanized a voice that a back part of Ray’s mind found similar to Darth Vader’s. Ray however was too panicked to consciously think about this however. The figure was almost 7 feet tall, and clad in sleek black armor from head to toe. The armor's design was without ornamentation, except for a broken circle spray painted on the torso in red. Spikes jutted up from the shoulders and head. Where a face should be, there was only a single eye, glowing a menacing blood red.

Ray’s men drew their guns and started firing, but the bullets just bounced off the armor. The black figure extended his hand and flames gushed forth from his wrist. Ray saw one of his men run around on fire for several seconds before tripping and falling over the side of the building. In desperation, one of Ray’s thugs leaped onto the figures back, but the armored man simply plucked him off and eviscerated him with a chainsaw blade that suddenly sprang from his arm.

Finally the figure’s glowing red eye turned to look at Ray. Ray tried to run, but before he took 3 steps the figure had him. The black figure dangled Ray in front of his face by his leg.

“Let me go. Please!” Ray cried. “What do you want? Money? There is 40 thousand in the case over there. You can have it. Just, let me go.”

The figure said nothing. In desperation, Ray drew his pistol and fired a shot right into the glowing red eye, leaving a small chip in the glass. The figure grabbed the gun out of Ray’s hand in a motion so fast it dislocated Ray’s shoulder, and then crushed it with his free hand.

“I want you to deliver a message to the Street Reaper.” The figure said in a menacing tone. “Tell him his days are numbered, and I’m coming.”

“W-who are you?” Jack asked.

“I’m just the Night Guard.” The figure pointed to the chip in his suit’s eye. “Ever heard the phrase ‘An eye for an eye’?”

With that, the figure jammed his thumb into Ray’s eye socket. He then dropped a screaming Ray onto the roof. With his remaining eye, Ray was able to see the figure I ignite his jet pack with a low whine and fly off into the night.
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Please note, that both this story and Fire of Prometheus will receive less frequent updates than usual, since I am now working on two stories at once (which is probably quite stupid, but whatever). I will try to submit at bear minimum one chapter per week for one of the stories, but hopefully I can do a chapter for each one every weekend.

Chapter 1

4:46 PM April 5, 2011-Chicago, Illinois

James Burton leaned back from his desk and looked out the window from his office on the 63rd floor of 311 South Wacker Drive. From here he could see the Sears Tower (he, like most Chicagoans, still refused to call it the Willis Tower despite the official name change), the Chicago Board of Trade Building, and a had good view of Grant Park and the harbor.

Pretty good for a company I started in a two story warehouse on the south side Burton thought. Indeed, Applied Automations had very humble beginnings.

In 1994, Burton had graduated with a degree in robotics from the University of Chicago. He got a job as an engineer at a small company that designed ROVs for deep sea oil drilling, but had much higher aspirations. In his spare time he designed several revolutionary breakthroughs in various robotics fields. In 1995, he fell in love with and married Helen Gates, the daughter of a major real-estate owner, and used the money in 2003 to finance his own company; Applied Automations.

Applied Automations was a company devoted solely to the design and manufacture of robotic equipment for police and military use. It had mild success with bomb diffusing robots for police and robotic minesweepers for the US Army, but was still small and little known. In 2006, it made a breakthrough with the Impermeable, a suit of body armor inlaid with robotic servomotors that allowed wearer to change the armor’s density at will, which meant it provided the same protection as 8 inches of steel while being as light and flexible as a cotton tee-shirt. Millions of units were sold to nearly every police force in the country, as well as the US Army, the Royal Marines, the Republic of Korea Army, the Canadian Land Force Command, the Israel Defense Force, and numerous other militaries. This allowed Applied Automations to grow by leaps and bounds; they were able to move from the small warehouse they had been working in to the offices he was sitting in, and their employment size went from 30 to over 500.

Applied Automations continued to release equally successful products over the next few years, when it announced its next big project in 2009: the Guardian, a suit of powered armor that would change forever the way police officers upheld the law. The Guardian project had gone through testing, with one prototype made, and only awaited approval by the Chicago Police Department. Once approved, CPD would use the suit for a one year trial period, after which it would be sold to the other interested parties such as the LAPD, NYPD, New Scotland Yard, and the like. In total, the company’s financiers estimated a total of over 30 billion dollars in initial sales, with…

Whoa, I’m getting ahead of myself, James thought I still need to pitch the Guardian to CPD tomorrow. James glanced up at the clock, and realized he should be heading home; Helen always hated it when he missed diner. He said goodbye to his secretary and headed down the elevator and out the door, walking briskly towards the El station.
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10:13 PM-Oak Park, Illinois

James sat in the living room of his house in the Oak Park suburbs, preparing his sales pitch while paying some attention to CNN’s coverage of President Obama’s diplomatic trip to North Korea. He heard footsteps behind him.

“Hey Dad, am I interrupting anything?” James’ son, Nathan, asked. “I can come back later if you want.”

James looked up from the note cards he was writing and glanced at Nathan. Unlike other 11 year olds James knew, Nathan was extraordinarily patient, which James attributed to Helen’s rearing.

“No, come in.” James said. “I was just preparing my speech for the CPD people tomorrow.”

“That’s actually what I came to talk about.” Nathan said. He produced three pieces of printed paper. On each of them was an armored figure: one featured a figure clad in orange and red armor with a large cannon dominating the right hand, the next had a figure in green armor posing in front of a flaming city wielding two machine guns, and the third featured a grey suited figure wielding a katana, its face bearing a single red eye.

“These from your video games?” James asked.

“Yeah. Metal Gear, Metroid, and Halo. I thought you could use them as inspiration.”

“Well, I’m afraid we’re already past that stage of development. Maybe I could use these on the Guardian Mark II though.”

“Also,” Nathan said, producing a second sheet of paper, “I came up with a list of ideas for what you could add on.”

“A flamethrower? Chainsaws? A rocket launcher?” James said, reading over the list. “Not that I don’t like these, but I doubt any police forces are going to need this much firepower. Plus they are probably going to want something a little more conservative; they want to catch criminals, not obliterate them. However, I do like the stunners built into the palms. Police wouldn’t have to carry around Tasers then. I’ll look into that.”

“Thanks, Dad. Good night.” Nathan gave him a hug and walked up the stairs.

“He spent an hour on that list after school.” James heard Helen’s voice. He turned and saw her framed in the doorway. Despite her age of 38, she still looked to be only in her mid twenties. Her dark hair fell past her shoulders, dangling down the back of her robe.

“I know, I know, I should spend more time with him.” James said.

“I’ve said it that often, huh?” Helen said in a teasing tone. This had been a longstanding issue between the two of them; Helen constantly insisted that he worked too much and was never home enough.

“Look, I’m sorry honey. It’s just this project could put Applied Automations on solid ground for the next 20 years. I promise, once this deal goes through with CPD and we secure all the other buyers, the three of us go on a good long vacation together. Maybe we can go to Hawaii or something.”

“I’ve heard Paris is nice.” she said.

“Paris it is than.” James said with a smile. “In the mean time, how about we go to the Shedd tomorrow after my meeting? I don’t think Nathan’s ever been there, and I think he’d like it. Okay?”

“Okay.” she said. “Good night, and good luck with your presentation tomorrow.”

“Good night, Helen”
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10:32 AM-April 6, 2011

James paced nervously back and forth in front in the conference room of Chicago Police Headquarters. In front of him sat the Chief of Police, as well as 24 other officials.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “I love Chicago. I’ve lived my whole life here, and I want to see it prosper. Now, the problem that has faced Chicago in recent years is a crime lord we know only by the alias Street Reaper. We know next to nothing about him, but it is believed he is behind the attempted Sears Tower bombing in June of 2009, the assassination of Mayor Richard Daley in November of 2010, and the terrorist attack at O’Hare last month. He is also believed to be behind the majority of Chicago’s drug smuggling, prostitution, and-”

“Mr. Burton,” the Chief of Police interjected, “we are aware of the Street Reaper situation, please continue with the presentation.”

“Sorry,” James said. “Now, the key problem with dealing with the Street Reaper is that he is incredibly well equipped. CPD gets bulletproof vests, they get armor piercing rounds. CPD gets armored police cars, they get anti-tank missiles. However, what I’m offering cannot be superseded by a mere thug. Gentlemen, I present the Guardian.”

James tapped a button on the remote he was holding, and a photo of an armor clad man posing dramatically in front of the Chicago skyline was projected on the wall. The reaction was immediate: a collective gasp. The armor was made of a sleek titanium alloy. The visor covered the entire face; like an astronaut’s helmet, but much more streamlined, and was blacked over, hiding the face of the wearer. The armor was almost perfectly smooth, with only some bulkiness around the shoulders and a bulge on the back containing the jetpack. For this occasion, it had been painted in the light blue and white of the Chicago Police Department, with the CPD logo emblazoned on the chest plate.

“An officer wearing the Guardian will be able to take on any situation without fear of danger. At least until the Street Reaper gets nukes.” James waited out the chuckles and then continued: “The titanium alloy can withstand high caliber rounds, grenades, even a direct hit from an anti-tank missile. Furthermore, the armor can increase the wearer’s physical abilities by over 500%; an officer wearing the Guardian could lift a bus or jump 300 feet in the air. The jetpack would effectively make squad cars and helicopters obsolete; officers could get to trouble spots on the other side of the city within minuets.”

James saw a hand raised in the back of the room: “Yes?”

“With technology this complex, I imagine it would be hard to operate. How does someone train to use something like this?”

“That’s actually quite simple. Operators must undergo a surgical procedure before using the Guardian. Don’t worry, this procedure is mild and doesn’t even require more than an hour of recovery time. In this procedure, a small microchip is placed at the base of the skull, attached to the spinal cord. This microchip forms a link between the wearer and the suit, so most functions can be accessed simply by thinking about them. After that, the operator simply needs some training time with the suit to get used to wearing it, I’d recommend about 30-50 hours.”

“Question:” someone else said, “about how much does each suit cost?”

Oh hell, already? I thought I would get farther before this happened James thought. He had intended to avoid the price tag as much as possible.

“Well,” James said nervously. “As you know anything this cutting edge is going to be relatively expensive, but the gains you would make in keeping the peace would far outweigh the-”

“Mr. Burton,” the Chief of Police said, “please answer the question.”

“About $650,000 per unit.” James said with a sigh.

“Am I to understand that these Guardian suits costs almost three quarters of a million dollars each?” someone exclaimed. The room erupted into an uproar.

“Calm down,” the Chief of Police yelled. The room gradually quieted down. “Mr. Burton, we will discuss this further by ourselves, we will inform you of our decision tomorrow.”

“Thank you. “ James said, defeated. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen.”

With that, James left the conference room.
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Interesting story, I like it indeed. The backstory is great too and with enough details to understand it at this point. Continue, please.

Chapter 2

11:40 AM

“The next stop is Clinton.” The prerecorded voice said. “Transfer to Pink Line trains at Clinton. Doors open on the left at Clinton. This is a Green Line train to Harlem”

James sat on the El, wondering what went wrong. His phone rang.

“Hey, Jimmy, how’d it go?” It was Jerry Larrity, Applied Automation’s PR head.

“Hello Jer. Well, it went as you predicted.”

“That bad, huh? I told you, nobody but the military is gonna pay three quarter mil for these things, no matter how badass they are. See, national governments don’t mind wasting tax dollars; city governments are more careful. You either have to cut production costs or sell to the government.”

“I’m not selling to the military. I made these things to stop criminals. The Army would just unleash these things on Iran or North Korea or some such.”

“Am I the only one who finds it hypocritical that an avid member of the War Resisters League is also the CEO of a major weapons manufacturer?”

“I don’t make weapons, I make armor.” James said, annoyed.

“Bah, semantics. Anyway, if you won’t sell to the Army, we’ll have to drop that price tag somehow. Maybe you could cut some unnecessary features, or manufacture in China or something.”

“I’ll work it out with you tomorrow. See you Jer.” James closed his phone.

“This is Oak Park” James was interrupted by the El’s prerecorded announcement. “Doors open on the right at Oak Park.”

James stepped off the El and walked down the stairs to the street. On the side of the street was parked his black Mercedes, with Helen at the wheel.

“Hey Dad” Nathan waved from the back seat. “How did the meeting go?”

“Not too well.” James said. He quickly changed subjects. “Ready to go to the aquarium?”

“Yeah!” Nathan said eagerly. “Will they have dolphins there?”

“Of course. So, what do you want to see first?” James asked as he climbed into the car.
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4:52 PM

“Dad, did you see the sharks? They were HUGE!” Nathan trotted through the lobby of the Shedd Aquarium; happily swing the bag of toys he had gotten at the gift shop.

“Yeah, they were.” James said. His phone rang; it was Katrina Gray, head of the sales department. “I gotta take this call Helen; I’ll meet you and Nathan at the car.”

Helen nodded and walked out to the parking lot. James answered his phone.

“Hello James. How are you doing?” Katrina said in her mild British accent. She had originally been working for a Manchester based company called Robotech, a competitor to Applied Automations, but during the massive expansion brought on by the success of the Impermeable, Applied Automations had hired her away for five times what her salary had been at Robotech.

“Well, the CPD pitch bombed. They hated the price tag.”

“Well, maybe this will cheer you up.” she said. “I have today’s sales numbers. The Impermeable is continuing to sell at the same steady rate it’s been at, and the Australian Army ordered 400 of the RK-20 minesweepers. As far as the Guardian goes: Hamburg, Stockholm, and Shanghai all want to place orders for their police, Sydney is adding three more units to its order, and Moscow wants us to send a representative out to discuss the design specifics with them. Also, our stock went up four points today, and-”

Suddenly James heard a loud rumble coming from the parking lot, followed by screams.

“What was that noise?” Katrina asked. “Did you drop something?”

“I’ll call you back.” James ran out the door into the parking lot. Where his car had been parked there was only a flaming chunk of twisted metal. He ran towards the wreck, even though he already knew there was no hope. He had expected some sort of attack; after all, the maker of police body armor would be incredibly unpopular among criminals. But he hadn’t expected this.

He reached the remains of the car. It was so hot that he couldn’t get more than ten feet from it. There was not trace of Helen and Nathan, and for a brief moment he had hope that they weren’t in the car when it exploded. This hope was crushed instants later when he saw a shining metal object on the ground.

It was Helen’s wedding ring, glowing hot from the heat of the explosion. Part of it had been melted away, so it only formed about three-fourths of a circle. He reached down to pick it up. The ring was so hot it burned his palm, and he quickly dropped it again. He looked at his palm and found a burn mark in a perfect broken circle shape. As he stared at his hand, his vision began to inexplicably blur. He tried to walk, but dizzily fell over. He continued to stare at his palm as his vision gradually faded to black.
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Great job so far. Keep up the great work!!!

Do you by any chance live in or near Chicago? I'm really impressed with how well you know the city. I expected references to the Sears Tower, but your knowledge extends beyond that. You even have those annoying El announcements down almost word for word.

Chapter 3

3:42 PM, April 7

James awoke in a daze. He didn’t know where he was at first, but a quick survey of his surroundings told him he was in a hospital bed. His right hand was wrapped in a layer of bandages, and hurt like hell. He gingerly unwrapped the gauze and looked it over. His hand seemed to be fine except for a small scar on his palm; in the shape of a broken circle.

Immediately a torrent of memory came flooding back to him. Helen and Nathan were dead. They had died in a trap meant for him. And those who had done it were still alive.

The door opened and a nurse walked in.

“Well, I see your finally awake.” she said. “You lost consciousness after the explosion, but aside from the burn on your hand you are ok. A little reconstructive surgery can fix the scar.”

“No, leave it.” James said. “I need it…as a reminder.”

“Well, suit yourself.” she shrugged. “By the way, there is a cop who wants to talk to you. Should I send him in?”

James nodded, and the nurse walked out. A moment later a policeman walked in.

“Mr. Burton,” he said. “I’m Officer Fraley. Let me first say how sorry I am for the loss of your family.”

“Thanks.” James said, and motioned for the policeman to continue.

“Using footage from a security camera, we have identified the man who planted the bomb on your vehicle as a Mr. Alex Wetzel. He installed an improvised explosive device that was triggered by the car’s ignition. We haven’t caught Wetzel as of yet, but we are trying our best. However, we believe Wetzel wasn’t alone. We think this bombing was orchestrated by a local gangster known as the Street Reaper. Do you know of any reason you or your family would be a target?”

“I am the CEO of Applied Automations, a company that specializes in making robotic armor for police forces. I imagine I would rate pretty high on the local crime lord’s hit list.”

“Once he realizes he failed to kill you,” the cop continued. “He will likely try a second assassination attempt. I recommend you leave Chicago for a few days until this situation is over.”

James said he would think about it. He then checked out of the hospital and headed home.
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9:47 PM

“This is car 204, repeat, 204. We are in pursuit heading northbound on Highway 41; green 2009 Honda Civic Illinois license plate A4TR56. Request assistance.” The police scanner sitting on the mantle interrupted the silence of the room.

James sat on his couch, thinking. He glanced around the room. His eyes touched on a picture of him and Helen at their wedding. He had almost forgotten how short her hair was back then. He moved on to another photo; this one of Nathan holding high the trophy he had won in a karate tournament. He closed his eyes, trying not to remember.

“This is car 597. Have spotted red 2010 Ford Mustang registered to Wetzel, Alex, wanted for the Shedd Aquarium bombing yesterday, heading towards O’Hare. Request permission to pursue.”

“Permission granted 597. Rerouting near-by units to assist.”

James opened his eyes. The man who killed my family is still alive. The cops may not catch him, and even if they do, the Street Reaper could easily get him off the hook. He will never get the punishment he deserves.

With that realization, James stood up.
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10:22 PM

James stopped his car in front of the main warehouse of the Applied Automations Proving Grounds. The Proving Grounds consisted of a three square mile property that was used to test all of AA’s products.

He walked up to the door and punched a code into the keypad by the door. This code was different than his usually passcode however. James had designed the security system that guarded AA’s property, and this code was his personal backdoor. When used, it would shut off all camera’s and security systems in the building for a one hour period.

James quickly made his way to one of the test rooms. Once there, he found the Guardian, propped up on a mannequin. The prototype suit looked slightly different than the image he had shown the Chief of Police the day before; rather than the blue and white color scheme, the suit was a simple matte black, and was more bulky. He surveyed it, and was unsatisfied. He took a can of spray paint from a supply closet and painted a broken circle in blood red; the same broken circle on his palm.

James quickly donned the suit. He had already had the control chip implanted, and had in fact been one of the test pilots, so he was quite familiar with the suit’s controls. Once in the suit, he tapped a button on the wall. A circular section of the ceiling opened up. Without a second glance; James ignited his jetpack and flew off.
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10:35 PM

James saw Wetzel’s car, roughly 200 feet below him, with three police cars trailing behind it. They were approaching the outskirts of O’Hare airport; the runways began only a few hundred feet ahead. Let’s end this James cut thrust and fell, landing on the hood of the car.

James punched through the windshield, wrenching the steering wheel to the side. The car spun out of control and crashed through a chain link fence, ending up one of the runways. As the car continued to careen across the tarmac, Wetzel pulled a gun and began firing. The bullets bounced harmlessly off James’ armor. Finally the car came to a stop as it hit the side of a shed.

Wetzel dove out of the car, running towards a 737 that was warming up near by. James went after him with a small jet propelled leap. He grabbed him by the neck, hoisting him above the ground.

“Who the **** are you?” Wetzel asked, terrified.

“I’m the man whose family you murdered!” James said with fury. He grabbed Wetzel’s arm and broke it with a quick twist.

“It was just a job.” Wetzel pleaded. James threw him into the side of the plane with bone crushing force. “Fine, I’m sorry. Arrest me.”

“I can’t arrest you.” James said. He grabbed Wetzel and dragged him over by the 737’s engine. The suction from the turbofan ripped at Wetzel’s cloths. “See, only cops can arrest people.”

With that, he tossed Wetzel into the turbofan. Blood flew through the air, splattering across James’ suit.

“Remain where you are. You are surrounded.” Police officers began running towards James. With a satisfied smile, James ignited his jetpack and flew off into the darkness.
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Originally Posted by attackʞɔɐʇʇɐ

Do you by any chance live in or near Chicago? I'm really impressed with how well you know the city. I expected references to the Sears Tower, but your knowledge extends beyond that. You even have those annoying El announcements down almost word for word.

Actually no, I live in Western Maryland. However, my grandparents live in Oak Park, and I usually spend a few weeks with them every year. Because of that, I am relatively familiar with Chicago.
On a side note, I had originally intended for this story to take place in New York, but I realized that was a bit cliche and I was more familiar with Chicago anyway (I've only been to NYC a total of three times).