Ultimatum (1/2)

“Stupid fucking button.” Jonah muttered to himself as he attempted to button up his new red dress shirt. It was lightweight and fashionable, but the buttons were slightly too large for the freshly manufactured holes. “If I’m late, Kendra’s going to flip.”

Jonah was getting quickly dressed in his best summer clothes because he had a date with Kendra. Despite the quality of their previous rendezvous,’ Jonah still had difficulty convincing Kendra to go out with him. He didn’t doubt that she liked him, but her hesitation had made the process of asking a nerve-racking one. Jonah couldn’t help but be reminded of his youth and how girls would give him the stink eye no matter where he went. It was as if they could see his poor soul through his material flesh. Kendra didn’t look at him like that, though. The way she looked at him made his heart pause and time slow.

“Looking pretty chilly there, Sam; let’s move over to the sports desk whe-”

In the living room, Jonah’s TV grumbled with the mundane chatter of the local news station. Jonah preferred to have some background noise going at all times. It helped him concentrate and let him forget that he was alone in his home.

“-I’m getting breaking news. It seems that the downtown Star City stock exchange is being held hostage. We are waiting for further confirmation from local sources. The Star City stock exchange is the largest stock exchange on the West Coast and accounts for-”

Jonah ran into his living room. On his TV, he saw a live feed of the stock exchange floor. On the 24/7 live stream, groups of finance professionals sat in groups with their hands tied behind their backs. Papers were strewn about wildly, and computer monitors were cracked and sparking, but the people didn’t move. They merely bent their heads and trembled in fear. In the center of all the static chaos was a single figure. He was cloaked in a billowing white cloak and brandished a flaming sword.

Whipping out his phone instinctively, Jonah drafted a message to Kendra.

I’m going to be late. An emergency at “work.”
I will finish up as quickly as possible.
If you want a good show, turn on your TV ; )

The longest part of part of Jonah’s journey to Star City’s downtown was changing outfits. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pants and suited up his costume, instantly becoming Porter again. Luckily for him, the 24-hour livestream of the exchange floor provided him the perfect opportunity to pinpoint his entrance. It was long before he slinked through time-space into a dark corner of the large octagonal chamber.

Stepping out of one portal, he studied the area and dove back through another one. Unseen by the stationary cameras was the detail that heavy metal frames crisscrossed the exchange’s main space ceiling. Jonah scouted the situation from the steel webway, carefully not stepping on any clamps or wires supporting the industrial lights below him.

Now much closer to the action, Jonah could hear that the hostage taker was not silent but instead loudly lecturing to his captive audience. His white robes had yellow snitched patterns on the frayed edges.

“I ask you all not to look upon me as a random evil blighting your life but as a deliver of justice.” The man started, raising his hands to the cowering economist and traders. “I do not commit **** wildly like the villains you may compare me to. I am doing God's work. I ask you to think about the Lord's words in Luke 18:25: ‘It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.’”

Jonah was right above the man now. He could drop directly upon him, but his flaming sword did not look ceremonial. Looking at the faces of the hostages, Jonah noticed a strange detail. He did not see a single employee. No janitor, assistant, or customer service help.

“I do not wish to harm any of you. I find no pleasure in it, " the man continued. He threw back his hood and revealed his face. He had long dark hair and spoke in an affected American accent. His tanned skin and serious expression belied his revealed youth. He jutted his arms outwards as he spoke, trying to convince anybody present of his message. “When Jesus entered the Temple and saw the injustice and greed of the money lenders, did he sit back and let exploitation occur? No, he did not. You are the modern incarnation of that evil. I bring you together today to show the world this! I hope that one day, you can look inside yourself and see the sin that you are spewing into the world with your complacency. You shuffle money around like they are your playthings, and for what? So that number may rise? So that your bosses can grow even fatter on their putrid greed?”

“Let us go! We’ve heard what you want to say.” One of the hostages shouted.

“I wish in my heart of hearts that I believed you. You all may know me as Kid Crusader, an old label.” Crusader pointed his blade towards the outspoken trader. “It is not my position to forgive. My holy mission is to exorcise evil. Its root has been clear to me for some time now.”

“Tell me, Teenage Crusader.” Jonah carefully landed on a nearby table. “If I port to Mecca right now, does that count as a pilgrimage?”

“Spoken like a true blasphemer.” Crusader approached Porter, moving away from the hostage. “A true pilgrimage is about the journey as much as the destination. Your boots must get dirty, and your soul must be in conflict before true resolution can be found.”

With alarming speed, Crusader lunged at Porter with a wide swing of his sword. Porter quickly dove out of the way toward a stack of broken computers. He slunk into the darkness, afraid to show the close singes on his costume.

“I’ve had plenty of dirty shoes in my day,” Porter shouted from the shadows, hoping to find a blind spot in the zealot’s guard. “But I didn’t throw that dirt into the eyes of the innocent.”

“Innocent! They are no such thing. These are educated men and women who choose to participate in such an obviously corrupt system. They even desecrate their own temple to greed with symbols of the Lord’s birth.”

“So, you come in here and swing around some pyrotechnics so that people finally listen to you,” Porter said while carefully circling his opponent. He stepped and weaved through desks and Christmas trees.

“I am no amateur teleporter, and my weapons are no mere playthings. My sword and relics and blessed vehicles of my deliverance.” Crusader's tone grew more tense. “They were given to me freely as rewards or investments in my crusade. They fuel and reflect the good that I have done.”

“Sounds like you’re on a real Jihad here, buddy,” Porter whispered before slipping behind the central terminal, finally envisioning his decisive blow.

“You’re incessant chatting won’t distract me.” Crusader closed his eyes and controlled his breathing, returning to a state of serenity. “You wish to goad me, perhaps attempt to reveal a hypocrisy in my belief. I feel no ill will towards the virtuous believers, false prophets or not. You’re even worse than-”

“Then who?” Was all Jonah managed to utter before being struck in the back.

“Then Black Spider,” Crusader answered.

The **** that hit Jonah in the back swung in a black blur over him and landed on the concrete wall of the central terminal. He was a lithe man in an all-black suit. He stuck to the wall sideways like a bug, and his mask had large eye lenses that squinted and zoomed at the stumbling Porter.

“You say you are a master of stealth, but your personality says otherwise, Spider,” Crusader called to the new coconspirator.

“Sorry, but you won't convince me to help you with this funny fish.” Black Spider called back in a voice whose cockiness was self-evident. He carried a large brown suitcase that could have housed any number of valuable or dangerous contents from the Star City Stock Exchange. Kid Crusader was a distraction, whether he knew it or not. “A deal, a deal, kid. I followed it to the letter, so no charity from me.”

Black Spider laughed and thwipped away on a projected rope of some sticky substance comparable to a spider's web. Jonah scrambled up from the floor to chase the thief. However, Crusader was already on his flank before he could create a new portal.

“I am your opponent!”

Jonah ducked under Crusader’s swing. He sprung up towards the young man's chest and engaged him at the sword pommel.

Crusader’s dominant arm was twisted awkwardly, so he punched Jonah in the face. The blow landed, but the two’s close proximity weakened the impact.

Rolling with impact, Jonah twisted around Crusader once again. With a harsh yell on his lips, Crusader jabbed his sword at Porter’s neck. Jonah barely parried the blade with an open palm, the heat catching his glove. Jonah grabbed Crusader’s wrist and yanked him closer. With his enhanced strength, Porter twisted the barred arm in the wrong direction and felt something snap.

The relic sword clattered across the floor, its flame still burning unnaturally. Crusader may have been fast, but Porter was faster. He grabbed the ornate hilt of the blade first.

Despite its cool appearance and the ease with which Crusader wielded the sword, Jonah couldn’t handle the hilt's heat. A searing pain shocked every inch of skin that attempted to grip the grip. Jonah reflexively dropped the charring object and looked at his charred hands to see nothing. His hands were uninjured, as if nothing had happened to them.

“You’re a sinner, Porter,” Crusader explained with a tone bordering on disappointment.

“What does a sword know about that? Jonah spat back.

“The sword isn’t the judge, Porter, you are.”

“I’m trying to be better.” Jonah grimaced as he picked the blade back up. The pain returned. It covered his hands and slowly worked its way up his arms. It felt like his skin was boiling alive. The burden was so heavy.

“It's not easy to do,” Crusader said serenely. “I wish you luck.”

Jonah raised the flaming sword high into the air. He swung down to strike at Crusader, but he didn’t react. Kid Crusader stood still unflinchingly. He looked into Jonah’s eyes with a sense of supreme peace that shook Jonah to his core. Before the blow landed, Porter redirected the blade so that just the pommel would hit Crusader.

Under the **** of the blow, Crusader collapsed in a heap of cloth and fanatism. Jonah dropped the blade to the ground. The metallic clanging shattered the silence and sounded the end of the fight.

Why had he given up? Why didn’t he fight back? These questions and more rand in Jonah’s mind. At some point during the fight, the pain of the fire had gone only to return once Jonah became aware of its absence. Was Crusader right, or was he just trying to trick him into returning the weapon?

Looking down at the boy Jonah saw his youth. The rage and indignation of his speech were lost in the **** face of the battered opponent. No older than twenty. What must have happened to lead him down such a radical path? Under whose authority did he dedicate himself solely to God, and did he find fulfillment?

Porter soon fled the scene. It was not his place to secure it further than it already had been. He was in no mood to speak with police and reporters. He had a lovely woman waiting for him. That was the only thought that brought him comfort.