Bombshell - Toxic Riverside Pt. 01

[Author's Note: this story follows Bombshell: Riverside Origins.]

Chapter One

"Where's the rest, Buzzy?" Tuck demanded, examining the baggy full of white pills.

"That's all he gave me," the woman said with a shrug.

He eyed her suspiciously, then took a menacing step forward. "Why you always playin' wit' me?"

Even though Buzzy was a very muscular woman, Tuck must have outweighed her by almost two hundred pounds. He wasn't that much taller than her, but his physique was hulking, blocky and thick. As usual he was wearing an orange River City Iron hoodie and workout pants.

"Think I ain't been doin' this long enough to know when a bag's light?" he growled.

Buzzy ran a hand through her short, dark hair. "I ain't saying it ain't light, I'm saying I ain't take none."

She was wearing camo shorts that were cropped very short to show off her bulging thigh muscles. There was a switchblade in her back pocket, and Buzzy reached for it, trying to be nonchalant.

They were standing in the back parking lot of the gym where they were both trained as powerlifters, between a dumpster and the lifting stones. Tuck had recently recruited her to help with his side-hustle. They weren't heavy pushers, mostly dealing steroids and party drugs to the gym rats, and mostly just to fund their own steroid usage. Lately Tuck had been branching out and getting more ambitious, hence her starting to keep the switchblade on hand.

"So I guess, Dr. Kelvin tryna rip me off now?" Tuck took another menacing step forward. "After all this time doin' good business..."

"It's just a few," Buzzy shrank back, discretely slipping the switchblade out despite her admission. Keeping a wary eye on the big man, she dug five little white pills out of her pocket. "I was just gonna take 'em, not-"

Tuck lurched forward and swiped the pills out of her hand. Buzzy leapt backward, stumbling and falling over one of the heavy cement stones.

"You dumb bitch," Tuck laughed. "These ain't even good to take! They're roofies."

Buzzy scrambled to her feet, flipping out the blade and brandishing it defensively. Then she paused, "Roofies? Who're them for?"

"Who else? Them frat boys," he explained, counting the pills and dumping them back into the bag.

"I'm afraid the gentlemen of Sigma Omega Beta are going to have to cancel their order," said a voice from above.

Tuck and Buzzy looked up in confusion. "Who the fuck?"

A sleek female figure dropped out of the sky into the dim light of a parking lamp. She was an average sized woman with silky blonde hair, framing a face that was partially obscured by a blue mask. An electric blue leotard clung to the subtle curves of her figure, with purple and white stripes running down her hourglass sides. Matching elbow length gloves sheathed her arms. Her long slim legs were bare down to a pair of high heeled calf length boots.

Miranda straightened, staring down the two dealers despite being considerably smaller than either of them.

"However," she went on. "If you'd like to handover the merchandise, and give me the name of your supplier... I'll be happy to handle the return for you."

"Ooooh, it's that super girl," Buzzy gasped.

"Super girl?" Tuck grunted. "Ain't no super girl in Riverside."

Buzzy thrust her hands toward the dynamic blonde. "Wha'chu lookin' at then?"

"That's enough," Miranda held up a hand. "Let me be clear, I'm only here to get the name of your supplier...and make sure you trash those roofies."

"A'ight, good point," Tuck said to Buzzy, stuffing the bag of pills into his front pocket. "So what do they call you, superbitch?"

"That's not important," Miranda replied. "I want to know-"

"I ain't telling you shit," the dealer cut her off.

Buzzy sidled a little closer to him, making a not-too-subtle show of flicking out the switchblade.

Miranda scowled. "It won't be pretty if I have to make you talk."

"Make me talk?" he balked. "How you gonna make me do that, little girl?"

That is a fair question, Miranda thought, sizing up the burly powerlifter. Damn, this guy's not going to be scared or intimidated by me at all. She put her hands on her hips and spread her feet, trying to assume an imposing stance anyway.

"I have my ways," the heroine declared. Shit, I really need some ways...

"Tough talk for a skinny little cardio bunny," Tuck snorted, and reached down to give his crotch a squeeze. "Why don't you come on over here and we'll see if we can't find a better use for that mouth."

"Dream on, pig," Miranda said, emerald eyes rolling behind her blue mask.

"Dream 'bout them titties maybe," he said, blatantly ogling her chest. "What'chu think Buzzy?"

"Look fake to me," the woman sneered. "Too perfect."

"Don't listen to Buzzy," Tuck laughed. "She just mad cuz she the president of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee."

It was true the woman's hard squarish pecs left little room for mammaries. Unsure how to even respond, Miranda could only pout and cross her arms over her own plump boobs.

"Believe it or not, I don't care what either of you think of my body," the heroine huffed. "I came here for information."

"Why don't you turn around and let me get a look at that ass!"

Miranda pursed her lips, blew out a frustrated breath. "I'm trying to find some missing people," she said through grit teeth. "I'm sure you know women have been going missing all over the city."

"I don't know shit 'bout that."

"I'd imagine that giant bag of roofies in your front pocket would beg to differ."

Tuck grinned. "What bag?"

Miranda looked to Buzzy. "Don't you even care they're taking women off the streets? How do you know you won't be next?"

"Fuck them hookers," the woman brandished her switchblade and flexed a muscular arm. "Ain't no one takin' me."

"I'm sure you believe that," Miranda sighed. "Look I'm not trying to bust you guys or anything, I just need some info so I can stop whoever's doing this before it gets worse."

"And I just need a decent hummer," Tuck grumbled. "So, how about you bring them pearly whites over here and wrap them lips around my cock, maybe I'll think about telling you something."

Miranda scowled, uncrossing her arms like a wild west gunslinger. "Guess we'll just have to do this the hard way."

"Buzzy," Tuck growled. "Slice her."

The woman snarled and lunged forward, the gleaming blade leading the way.

"Big mistake," Miranda almost smirked, lifting one arm to block the attack.

The Nandex fibers of her suit generated a protective magnetic forcefield and the knife skipped off it harmlessly. Then Miranda thrust her other hand forward, the high-tech glove generating a repulsor burst that knocked the female weightlifter backwards off her feet.

"Ah shit!" Buzzy hit the ground with grunt.

Miranda stepped forward calmly and kicked the knife out of her hand.

Tuck lunged at her, throwing a beefy-armed punch. The heroine ducked it easily and caught him with a right-cross of her own. The nanofibers of her gloves also amplified the kinetic energy of her hand, reinforcing the blow and sending him sprawling onto the ground.

Buzzy was starting to get up.

"That's far enough," Miranda snapped, aiming a gloved hand at the woman.

Buzzy hesitated, propped up on her elbows, glaring up at the heroine.

"You might be able to protect yourself, but the women who'll be sucking on those roofies won't be able to," Miranda said. "Whether they're abductors or common date-rapists, how could you be helping them?"

"I ain't got no answers for you, superbitch," Buzzy growled. "You know what them reds'll do if they hear we been talking?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Tuck snapped, using the dumpster to pull himself to his feet.

"Reds? You mean Russians?" Miranda said. "So you do know who I'm looking for."

Buzzy winced. "I don't know shit."

"Do you know who the Hammer is?" she turned back towards Tuck, extending her other hand. "Where do I find your supplier? Tell me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"I'm not the cops, okay?" Miranda snarled, keeping her hand outstretched. "You can't plead the fifth and lying to me won't help your case."

"Cops or not, I ain't no snitch," Tuck said. "Definitely ain't saying nothin' to some slut in a cheap Halloween costume."

Miranda scowled, squaring up to the dealer and planting her fists on her hips. "This doesn't have to get any uglier, but unless you tell me what I need to know-"

The cocky heroine was interrupted again when Buzzy sprang to her feet and shoved her forward. Tuck reacted right away, lunging and grabbing Miranda in a bearhug. Her arms were pinned to her sides as his own beefy appendages coiled around her. Miranda squealed in surprise and alarm as he effortlessly scooped her off the ground.

"Put me down!" Miranda squirmed and wiggled but was simply and easily overpowered. Her slender body felt even smaller as his massive form engulfed her.

"Got ya now, bitch," Tuck growled, his breath hot and foul in her face.

She groaned wordlessly, trying to twist away as his clutch began to tighten around her. The magnetic forcefield protected against most forms of metal but offered no protection from either the powerlifter's meaty arms, or brute strength. Tuck squeezed and pain spiderwebbed out from ribs that were still tender from a previous injury.

Miranda cried out sharply.

"Oooh, but you were right though," Buzzy crowed behind her. "She does have a nice ass...well, for a skinny bitch anyway."

Miranda clenched her teeth as the other woman grabbed her backside with both hands. She jiggled the pert cheeks, laughing sardonically. Then Buzzy jerked Miranda's leotard into a deep wedgie, and spanked her exposed cheeks, one then the other.

"Kinda soft though," Buzzy said. "You need to do some squats, girl!"

Miranda tried to kick back at the woman, grunting, "stahhp..." The protest died in her throat as Tuck continued crushing the breath out of her.

The heroine's situation was quickly turning desperate. As the bearhug constricted, the pain intensified, not just her ribs now. Miranda felt fragile. Trapped against Tuck's bulging muscles, she feared they could break her at any moment. Her heart was racing, each gasp coming shallower and shorter.

Buzzy was still playing with her ass.

With her strength draining away, Miranda fought back panic. Tuck's square face was inches from her own, glowering and grinning triumphantly.

"Gimme a kiss and I'll think about letting you go," he chortled. "Then we'll talk about that hummer..."

Refusing to give in, Miranda locked eyes with him, and then slammed her forehead into the bridge of his nose!

Tuck recoiled, cursing in surprise and pain, and when he did his grip slipped. The heroine immediately shoved both hands forward, unleashing a double-barreled repuslor burst. The powerlifter launched back, slamming into the dumpster with enough force to knock it aside.

"Fuck!" Buzzy blurted as he slumped to the ground.

Miranda landed, weak kneed and wobbling on her heels. She barely dragged in two full breaths before the other woman tackled her.

"You bitch!" Buzzy howled, scrambling on top of the blonde heroine.

Miranda whimpered in frustration as she was pinned down and slapped across the face. The weightlifter's power would have been overwhelming even if Miranda hadn't still been weak from the bearhug.

Luckily, Buzzy wasn't a trained fighter. She slapped at Miranda again and again. The heroine kept her head, getting her arms up to defend against the barrage. Vicious as the other woman was, she was erratic, and losing steam already.

Miranda found an opening, then lurched and rolled to the side, driving an elbow into Buzzy's ribs. The woman pitched sideways and off. Miranda forced herself to stand, already cocking back for her next punch. The weightlifter had barely staggered to her feet when the heroine's reinforced glove crashed into her jaw.

Buzzy sprawled onto the asphalt.

"Stay down," the heroine warned, wiggling her curvy hips as she reached back to pull out the wedgie. "Or you will not get up next time."

Clutching her face, Buzzy said nothing and rolled onto her back to glare up at the heroine. She did not try to get up.

Miranda went over to the barely conscious Tuck and dug the bag of roofies out of his orange hoodie.

"Alright, Buzzy," she said, examining the bag. "What do you know about Russians?"

"Nothin' I swear," she grunted.

"Then tell me where these came from," Miranda pressed, shaking the bag of pills at her. "I'm betting your source knows something I can use."

Tuck was struggling to his feet. "Don't you tell her shit you stupid fuckin' bit-"

Without looking back, Miranda threw out her hand and blasted him into the wall. He slumped back to the ground, this time silent and still.

The heroine glowered down at the female lifter. "Time to decide if you're more scared of what those 'reds' might do to you... or what I will do to you."

"Shit! Shit. Shit," Buzzy blurted, the options tumbling through her brain.

"Help me stop them," Miranda said calmly. "And you won't have anything to fear from either of us."

Buzzy eyed her, doubtful but understanding. "Fine. His name is Dr. Kelvin, that's what they call him."

"And the 'reds'?"

"Don't know, honest," she said quickly. "I know they're out there, I know he works with them, but I don't know shit 'bout 'em."

Ripping open the bag, Miranda stepped to the curb and dumped the small white pills into the sewer drain. Then she approached Buzzy, squatting down to look the woman in the eyes.

"Fine. So where can I find this Dr. Kelvin?"

Chapter Two

"Dr. Kelvin Winder? OBGYN?"

"I somehow doubt it."

"Dr. Kelvin Moses?" Luna suggested, her voice buzzing through Miranda's earpiece.

"Is he a drug dealer?"

"Well, he has his own practice, so I assume he's pushing drugs on quite a few of his patients."

"Not quite what I meant," Miranda sighed.

She was soaring through a clear night sky. The moon hung big and bright overhead. Up here the air was crisp despite being in the midst of the humid summer months.

"Oh!" Luna went on. "Dr. Kelvin Lee Amada has been the superintendent of schools since-"

"Okay, I get it," Miranda cut her off. "I just thought there might be something to give me an idea what I'm walking into."

"I know I'm the tech girl," Luna said. "But I need more time to really rundown information on these criminals. I'm new at this."

"Well, what about the address? I'm almost there now."

The neighborhoods were beginning to spread out below her. Bigger houses on bigger plots, some even separated by sprawling farmlands, corn fields mostly.

"Nothing much," Luna said. "A listing that's a few years old, an article about zoning changes out that way, that's about it."

"Got it," Miranda sighed. "Well, keep checking for Kelvin. Buzzy said this place is where she meets him for pickups, I don't know if he'll still be here though."

"Yeah, sure," Luna replied. "Be careful out there, okay? Your power's going to be low after those couple of fights and a long flight like that."

It was true, the LEDs on her powerbelt were already turning orange. Red meant low power.

"Of course," Miranda said. "Over and out."

She could see the house now, a shadowy husk in amongst a copse of trees. It was set back from the main road by a long gravel drive.

Miranda circled it once, high up so no one would see her. There didn't seem to be any lookouts, or lights, or much activity at all. She swooped down, dropping lightly onto the roof. The air smelled like old dirt and corn dust.

There was a maroon sedan parked around the back of the house. It had been pulled into the yard and tucked into the shadows of the structure. The tracks looked fresh.

Looks like somebody might be home after all, Miranda thought, even though she still couldn't detect any signs of activity.

Stepping off the roof, she floated down to ground level, careful to stay at an angle that kept her out of sight from any of the windows.

"L, I think someone's here," Miranda whispered activating the earpiece again. "I've got some license plates for you to run."

There was a slight warble in her ear but no reply.

"L? Luna?"

Nothing.

Could there be something jamming our communicator out here? Miranda glanced around.

She realized the windows on the bottom level were all blacked out and covered over. She'd have no idea if there were lights on inside. Then she noticed a little cluster of cameras stuck to the side of the house. One aimed directly at the car; at her.

Shit. Her nerves tingled. Well, if someone is here, now they know I am too. So much for the sneaky approach.

Miranda headed straight for the back door. There was a porch wrapping around the back of the big country house. The old wood creaked under her heels, the sound sending another flash of nerves through her. The back door was brand new. It was a heavy metal security door with a slit at about eye level and a pass-through in the middle.

Miranda smirked. The field generated by her suit gave her an ability that her late-husband Warren had called Tactile Magnesis; it allowed her to control any metal she touched. She gripped the handle and ripped the entire door and its frame out of the wall.

She marveled a little bit, holding the heavy door with one hand, then tossed it into the yard, out of the way.

Inside was an empty kitchen, no table or chairs. There was a filthy looking sink, which seemed to have been scarred by having chemicals poured down it. Across from that was an old gas stove that looked like it hadn't been fired up in a hundred years. The fridge was the only appliance that looked new and it, like the door, was brand new.

Miranda opened the fridge as she passed it. No food, instead it was filled with bags of pills, half-filled beakers and trays of vials containing toxic looking substances.

Jackpot! She thought. Whatever this is, it's definitely more than just a meeting place. Now to find whoever owns that car out back...

She crept out of the kitchen, her heels thumping on the splintered hardwood floors. Across from her was an old parlor. It was dark, but she could see silhouettes of dusty old furniture. There was a light on in the other direction, so she headed towards that.

Miranda paused, passing another heavy-duty security door. These are an awful lot like the door to Shorty Suites's dungeon...doesn't seem like a coincidence.

This doorway looked like it would lead down to the basement. She was just reaching for the handle, when movement caught her eye. She turned back towards the room at the end of the hall.

"Hello?" Miranda called. "It's just your friendly neighborhood superheroine...?"

She was surprised to get a reply.

"Eh? What's that? Who's there?" It was the feeble warble of an elderly man.

With a hesitant glance at the door, Miranda headed towards the lighted room. She powered up her gloves for a repulsor burst if needed.

The room at the end of the hall was arranged like an office. There was a desk against one wall, and a comfy looking old chair under a reading lamp across from it. Instead of an end-table there was an ancient looking safe. The kind of thing that would have frustrated an old-timey crook like Babyface Nelson. She noticed what looked to be a white lab coat draped over the back of the desk's chair.

"Who are you?" croaked the voice again.

The old man was at the far end of the desk, leaning heavily on a derby handled cane. He was wearing a yellow plaid shirt, and gray slacks. He was hunched over, with short silver bristles covering his head. One eye seemed milky and unfocused; the other wasn't quite looking directly at her either.

"I'm..." Miranda hesitated. I really need to come up with a heroine moniker. "I'm looking for someone called Dr. Kelvin?"