Clark’s excitement was exceeded by his sense of urgency. The suit had to be flight-tested and packed away before he departed in the morning. The plane ticket sat on the bathroom counter, his work clothes laid in a mound next to the shower, and Clark stood facing himself in the mirror contemplating what could transpire over the next few days. His upbringing in the church made him consider whether or not he was doing the right thing, but that thought was soon outmatched by the vision of Elaine’s grimace only seconds before she was shot. Clark blinked hard and wiped sweat from under his chin with the back of his hand. Finishing the last shoulder clasp on the suit, he turned to exit the bathroom. Suddenly, the pounding came at the apartment door just as it had that morning.
Clark jumped, startled, and looked around for something to put on over the suit. His coat was in the closet, but surely they would have seen the boots. After a second thumping at the door and a subsequent protest from the downstairs neighbor, Clark franticly decided to throw a blanket around himself and act sick. He wrestled with the bed sheets and finally, as he threw them over his shoulders, said “Hang on a minute, I’m not feeling well. I’ll be right there!”
“Come on Clark!” came a voice accompanied by another knock.
“I hear you. Give me a second!” he replied as he shuffled to the door, making sure his feet did not peek out from beneath the draped bed sheet.
“Clark! Open up, man,” came the second request, only this time with less tension and a little bit of frustration.
As the voice became recognizable, Clark let the blanket sag off his shoulders, turned open the locks, and threw open the door. “You scared the shit out of me James. Get in here.”
James entered and went immediately for the pizza. He took a piece and with a mouthful said, “The way I figure it, they’re gonna find out about me anyways. Hell, they probably already know. Might as well see you get this thing off the ground.”
“I’m glad you changed your mind, James.”
“Me too, man. Besides,” he took another huge bite, “Daths whu frenths ah fohr!” James smiled as pizza sauce dripped off his chin onto his shirt. “Ah thhit.”
For the next two hours Clark and James reviewed the launch and land commands. Then Clark went through the head motions in the training manual to refresh himself on what he’d learned about banking, ascent, and descent. Within the period of 120 minutes, he had the helmet on and off seven times, trying to figure out how to fit his glasses underneath the visor. He had hovered in the apartment days ago without any vision correction at all, but he knew full flight would require his prescription lenses. Eventually, he settled on using an old set of contacts he kept put away in case of emergencies. Clark had pulled on black running pants and a sweat shirt over the combat suit and was standing at the window.
With the blinds pried open with two fingers, he watched as the sun’s residual glow diminished against the bricks of the building across the alley. The usually violent man in the adjacent building was dancing in the kitchen with his wife. Their motions were playful at first: quick and jumpy; then slower and more intimate as they moved into each others arms. Clark’s heart ached as he watched them sway. He let the blinds shut quietly as he turned to see James intensely focused on the training manual.
The dead air in the room caught James’ attention. He did not move his head, but looked up with only his eyes, his finger still resting on the last word he’d read. Clark was standing perfectly still.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
___
It was 9:38 p.m. on the roof of Clark’s apartment building. He had removed his baggy disguise. The power-up and hover commands went as planned and Clark was now three feet above the gravel roof deck. His menacing black form hung silently for a few minutes as he gained his confidence. He looked directly into James’ eyes momentarily, then tilted back his head and gave the launch command. With no sound other than a gush of wind, Clark was gone into the night sky. He left no trace, no trail, or no warped cloud of dust; he was simply gone. James fell to his knees in astonishment. The first flight was underway.
New York City after dark was something Clark missed. He had spent so many hours in the bottom of liquor or pill bottles that he hardly remembered any nights, at all. But, that night he was seeing the city through clean eyes from a thousand feet above the ground. No one had ever viewed New York that way. The skyline was beautiful and the horizon was endless. More than once, Clark had to tell himself to stop sightseeing and fly.
Clark found that flight was more difficult if he tensed his muscles. If he relaxed and sensed the wind current around him things went much more smoothly. Only fifteen minutes into the test run and he was banking hard left, hard right, rapidly ascending, descending, accelerating, slowing. With each motion and command the he and the suit felt more as if they were one. He felt pockets of air bounce around him as the air temperature cooled, then warmed with each change in altitude. Clark could smell the electricity all around him. Satisfied with his exercises, he hovered one last time at 800 feet to take in the view of World Trade Centers One and Two, with the Empire State Building glowing at their sides. Despite the awe inspiring sights, Clark’s mind drifted once again to Elaine. It was time to head back.
“Contact zero.” The soles of Clark’s boots met the apartment roof with a crunch of the gravel. James was still on his knees. He looked overcome with emotion. Clark felt concern for his fiercely loyal friend as he gave the command, “Power down.”
“You alright?” asked James.
“Am I alright? You’re the one on your knees.” With that suggestion, James scurried onto his feet and approached Clark.
“How was it?”
“We need to get off this roof, James. I need to pack.” Clark peeled back the helmet as the two headed for the service door on the south end of the roof.
“C’mon man. How was it? It had to be the most incredible feeling of your life, right?” James wasn’t striding, but rather bouncing on his toes and he asked his questions like a curious child.
“No. It wasn’t the most incredible feeling of my life.” Clark responded as he opened the door for his excited friend, “but it was pretty damn close. Ask me again in a few days, after I’ve used this thing for more than just a joy ride. The answer may change.”
The service door to the apartment roof closed behind him and he put the black sweat clothes back on over the suit. Clark looked at his watch. It was almost 11:00 p.m. His flight would be leaving the next morning at 6:00. Retribution was close.
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