The Platinum Paladin #2

In the Case of Ray McGuffin

Rated E10+ Ten and Up

Where the heavens meet the ocean, a spire of light flashes for only a moment. A peach veiled sun sets on the shoreward horizon. The clouds part like the Red Sea as an orb plummets toward Earth at terminal velocity. Within the orb is an unconscious Burke. Striking the Atlantic, Burke’s protective barrier shatters into a thick, sparkling mist. She begins to sink. Suddenly, her dreams blend into memories.

“Jetta, please,” pleads another similarly armored woman. Her insignia is of the Roman numeral nine. “You don’t have to leave. I can speak with with the High Paladin—”

“Don’t waste your breath,” a younger, shinier Burke retorts. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

The Platinum Paladin awakens! She reacts in an instant, using her wings to help swim up to the surface. Her head pops up out of the water, and she inhales like she hasn’t breathed for days.

Burke looks around. No land in sight. She tries flapping her wings. Too heavy from being soaked. She retracts them, and they dissipate into glittering particles.

Burke detaches the shield from her breastplate. A small control panel sits on the backside of the disk. It’s fried.

“Ugh,” she grunts. Burke puts a hand to the temple of her helmet as she wades. On her visor’s heads up display, she can see herself on a map of the world. Three hundred and seventy-five miles off the coast of North Carolina. She tuts and taps her helmet to return to normal view. Then she whispers the prayer to redeploy her wings. Glancing back at them, she sighs and begins swimming towards the Carolina shore. Her wings flutter erect like twin dorsals to dry in the setting sun.

Burke’s mind drifts as she succumbs to the monotony of one front crawl after the other. Keeping most of her massive wings above the water, she paces herself lest she perish in a way unfit for one of her ilk. Burke remembers that day. The day she left the secret order of holy warriors known as the Paladin Nine.

Then known as Paladin X, Burke storms toward a titanic set of stone doors at the end of a column lined hall. Shafts of light reach from the arched windows to the marble floor. She holds her helmet to her waist, her brows furrowed as a gorge. Another similarly armored woman jogs to catch up with her. This one is clad in gold with a “IX” insignia on her breastplate.

“Jetta, please,” she pleads. “You don’t have to leave. I can speak with the High Paladin--” “Don’t waste your breath,” Burke retorts. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

The gold paladin reaches out and grabs Burke by the arm. They both stop.

“Just listen to me, Jetta,” the gold one asserts. “For once.”

Burke crosses her arms and raises a brow.

“I know you know we have rules for a reason,” the golden paladin says.

“And when they keep us from helping someone who needs us right then?” Burke argues. “Someone who may not be around later to fill out some form, or-or--”

“Let me finish! Please, just… I agree with you.”

Burke takes a deep breath.

“And we can change things," the golden paladin continues. "Now’s just not a good time. You know that.” She puts her hands on the side of Burke’s shoulders. “We just have to slowly--”

“No. I’m done waitin’ around. I love ya, Nine. But that kid’s blood is on my hands now ‘cause of the Paladin’s Code. That--”

Burke is interrupted by her own shuddering breath. Her chin bunches as she dips her head. Her sniffles cut short. Nine pulls her into her embrace. The platinum warrior weeps in the arms of her golden companion. Once they separate, Nine looks at Burke’s face. Though her eyes remain moist and red, there is now only rage. Righteous or not, Burke’s anger is apparent.

“That’s the last time,” she growls as she points at Nine. The memory fades as her younger self pushes open the giant double doors. Nine’s shoulders fall as she turns back down the hall. Back to the present.

Platinum Paladin swims faster. Her wings begin to flap. Burke roars as they hoist her from water, and she soars back to Washington D.C.

#

By the time Burke touches down on the Capitol lawn, night has truly fallen. However, only a few of the lights are on in the building. No spotlight on the dome. Burke makes her way back up the steps and into the House Chamber. The same chill runs down her spine, but this time it feels different. A certain reminiscence rushes over her. Absorbing the knowledge of qi from Hellmonk must’ve granted her a familiarity with the energy. She was right!

Alright, pal, Burke thinks. Let’s see where you’re hiding.

She kneels and puts a hand to the ground. The light of her visor begins to flicker. Her muscles tense up. The path is now clear.

In her mind, Burke stands on a dirt road surrounded in a black mist. The cloud crawls in and out of itself. It sounds like it’s breathing. Snakes rattle from beyond the darkness though none approach. The paladin inhales, steeling herself as she walks into the mist.

“Your word is a lamp to guide my feet,” she whispers. Suddenly, the cloud begins to retreat from where she steps. But the deeper she gets, the more she is engulfed by the darkness. Finally, only the glow of her visor is visible.

“And a light for my path.” Arcs of bright energy pulse outward like a radiant web. Then, the darkness compresses into a spherical singularity. It swirls in the palm of Burke’s hand as she is now surrounded by golden white clouds. In front of her stands a man dressed in black hooded robes resembling that of a Taoist monk. On his belt is a Yin Yang buckle, and his face is obscured by a full head mask. Only his sclera stare at the Platinum Paladin from beneath his square shaped hood.

“Nowhere to hide now, bud,” Burke says.

“Right on time,” the monk responds calmly.

The paladin slightly tilts her head.

“Surprised?” he asks. “You may have acquired that wretch’s knowledge, but you have yet to master it.”

“Look, I don’t like playing games,” Burke says. “If you wanted me to find you, why make it this hard?”

“I wasn’t sure you could actually do this. Being able to absorb the understanding of magical and dark energy signatures isn’t part of Paladin Nine’s discipline as far as I know.”

“I don’t like how much you know about me.”

“I honestly don’t care how or why you have this power. I just had to make sure you had it.”

“Please don’t tell me you need my help.”

“I do.”

“What made you think they wouldn’t just call in Kildark to come get you? That wouldn’t have been such a nice conversation.”

“Kildark is a hunter. You are a problem solver. I counted on your employer to choose the right person for the job.”

“So what don’t you know, ying yang?”

“My name is Dual. And frankly, the true mystery is this country’s fate.”

Burke scoffs.

“The man who was sworn in as Speaker of the House--the man I killed--was no man,” Dual explains. “He was a demon in disguise. Who knows how many of the political elite are not what they seem.”

“Conspiracies are above my paygrade, pal,” Burke dismisses.

“But not above your moral obligation.”

The paladin remains silent.

“I know you have a job to do,” Dual says. “But you also have a choice. Come find me.”

Dual then disappears into the heavenly clouds. Platinum Paladin looks down at the singularity of darkness floating in her hand. She sighs and crushes the sphere of energy. Black mist shoots out from within her fist. The atmosphere pops with a flash of light. Burke’s consciousness returns to her body. Back in the House Chamber. She stands and cracks her neck.

“Oo!” cringes a man from behind her. Burke spins around, aiming her Spirit Blaster at who she now sees is a familiar face. Ray “McGuffin” Winnfield. Another contract hero from the Wall Hangers club.

McGuffin stands with his hands up, shirtless underneath his black suit and tie. In his right hand is a matching briefcase. On his head sits a bulbous helmet sporting a large “M” on the front. His sly smile doesn’t reach his chocolate chip eyes. The dimples on his dark skin sit just beside his thin mustache.

“I was gonna say you sound like you need a massage, but…” McGuffin says. “I mean I’m still offering.”

“Lemme guess,” Burke says, still aiming her weapon at McGuffin. “Lockzone hired you to take me in?”

“Word is you helped Hellmonk escape.” He unclicks one of the locks on his briefcase.

“Word’s wrong.”

“I thought you were all about that Biblical stuff.”

“You know what I mean, Ray. I don't wanna fight you.”

“Look, I’m just doing a job.” He reaches with his right pinky for the other lock.

“Ray, you know I wouldn’t do that. Hellmonk escaped through my mind somehow.”

“Alright, alright. I gotchu. And you can tell that to Lockzone once I bring you back up there.”

“Job’s not finished.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jet.” The last lock clicks!

Burke flips back towards the chamber podium. McGuffin’s briefcase flies open. A golden glow emanates from within. Out of it pops a black submachine gun with yellow plating on it.

“Damn,” McGuffin exclaims. “A little overkill, but hey. The case always knows.”

McGuffin aims the SMG at Burke. He fires! Platinum Paladin flips and dips. Twenty rounds of taser bolts riddle the marble wall. Forty. Sixty in three seconds. Paladin tic tacs up to the balcony. Takes cover behind the wooden ledge guard. McGuffin fires a couple more rounds. He moans, throwing the gun back into the briefcase. Out pops a stun grenade.

“Here we go,” he mumbles.

Burke holds still. Listening closely. She hears the ping of McGuffin pulling a pin. Pulls herself up over the ledge guard. With a flip, she kicks the airborne flashbang back at McGuffin.

“Oh sh--” he starts before a pitch black visor zips over his face. The grenade flashes. It doesn’t blind him, but he’s stunned for a second. Burke’s already closed in.

She leaps. Two straight kicks. McGuffin blocks the high. Strikes away the low. She spins to hit him with the Spirit Blaster. A katana pops out of the briefcase. McGuffin blocks the blaster with his blade!

Burke pushes the sword down. Goes up for a rising knee. McGuffin dodges. He capitalizes for a three hit combo. The last one gets her. She stumbles back. McGuffin comes in to swipe at her legs. Burke dodges in, using his shoulders to spring forward. With a sweeping kick she grounds McGuffin. Then she plants a platinum boot on his briefcase.

McGuffin doesn’t let go. He drops the katana and reaches over to try and push her foot off with his other hand. No dice.

“Still a little too attached, I see,” Burke taunts, aiming her Spirit Blaster at her opponent.

“They’ll kick you outta the club for this,” McGuffin grumbles.

Burke grimaces. Her blaster powers up. She fires a weak shock blast. McGuffin flails for a second before passing out.

“Forgive me, Ray,” Burke says, turning to exit the House Chamber. “But I’ve still got work to do.”

TO BE CONTINUED