“Idiots,” said Lance simply.
Lance pulled out the smoke bomb he was carrying and threw it down in front of the Ouroboros. He picked up his goggles again then used them to find the confused Ouroboros in the heavy smoke. Running into the fray, he grabbed his shield and began to pummel each that met his path. As the smoke began to clear Lance doubled up on his attacks, his adrenaline-filled blood fueling the onslaught. He delivered one more shield bash, finishing off the last of the thugs around him.
A loud click sounded behind Lance as the smoke finally thinned to nothing. Lance looked over his shoulder to see Striker wielding a pistol, which was aimed right at him.
“You cheated,” stated Striker. “You said no weapons.”
“Because the daggers I spotted on your ‘non-grunt’ fighters had aren’t weapons?” retorted Lance.
“You don’t get it, kid,” continued Striker. “You may have beaten them, but we still win in the end, no matter what.”
Striker turned and grabbed Melody by the arm, then dragged her in front of him, Melody screaming and pleading all the way.
“LEAVE HER ALONE!” demanded Lance.
“You are in NO position to be demanding anything!” yelled Striker.
“I entertained your challenge, but that was a mistake! Not one that I will make with you again!”
“What do you even want?” asked Lance, trying to keep calm.
“This is just a university. We have nothing of value to a group like yours.”
A menacing smile flashed across the gang leader’s lips.
“Maybe not directly, but you know what they say about knowledge and power. It’s all a matter of finding the right kind and you’ll be unstoppable!”
“That doesn’t answer the question...” mumbled Lance.
Striker cocked his head slightly then jammed the barrel of his pistol into the back of Melody’s neck.
“What did you…?”
A faint hiss sounded and something zipped past Striker’s hand, interrupting his sentence and pulling the weapon away from Melody. Lance realized Adam had used the tether and seized the moment to charge at Striker. He grabbed the loose cable and used it to yank the now magnetized handgun from the hostile’s hand and release Melody from his hold. Lance tossed the weapon away, but just as he did Striker had retaliated with a powerful kick, knocking Lance over. Lance recovered with a quick tumble just in time to catch another kick before it landed. Not giving up, Striker shifted his weight and spun over to kick with his other foot, knocking Lance over once again.
“Not so easy without your tricks, is it, kid?” jested the enraged crime leader.
Lance pushed himself to get up and faced Striker.
“But it seems that you are a glutton for punishment, so I’ll indulge you,” added Striker before charging once again.
Lance braced himself, readying himself to try to grapple Striker, but moments before reaching him, Striker was suddenly jerked to the side as he was pegged on the side of his head with a flying object. Lance grabbed the destabilized Striker by the arm then flipped him over and slammed him down. Lance looked around and found the stray cable from the makeshift tether where he had tossed it before. Retrieving it, he used it to tie up the disoriented Striker. He finished and looked up to see Adam helping the now ex-hostages to get back on their feet.
Lance walked over to Melody, who was on the floor, sobbing and hiding her face, unaware that it was over.
“Hey…” Lance said gently, crouching and putting a calming hand on her shoulder. “It’s over now: it’s okay.”
She looked up timidly.
“Lance?”
“Yes. Everything is okay now,” he assured.
She wiped the tears from her face.
“You beat him? Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine: just a little sore from getting kicked around, but nothing I haven’t felt before,” he answered with half a smile.
She grabbed him around the neck, almost causing him to fall forwards in surprise.
“Woah!” he exclaimed.
Adam approached them, the PVC cannon over his shoulder, grinning at the sight. Lance stood, helping Melody up as well, one finger pointed at his jokester friend.
“Not a word, smart guy!” he demanded.
“But thanks for that last shot,” he added as he grabbed and shook his friend’s hand. “I don’t know if I would have handled that last bit otherwise.”
Adam’s expression changed quickly.
“Lance... I missed that shot...” he admitted.
“You missed…?” repeated Lance.
“Then if you didn’t hit him… who did?”
They both glanced in the general direction the shot would have come from, looking for the responsible party.
“Wait... how did the spotlights come on?” asked Adam.
“I don’t know,” said Lance. “Someone must have been up there and operated them as well: I remember now that someone moved them.”
“So... was there a traitor?” suggested Adam.
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