[JimmyDimples]

Chapter 3:

Scott got the video of the cyber-taunt on the police car’s computer’s screen. Tom muttered, "I can understand making their data computer go offline, but why the whole car?"

"All run by computers," said Pierre. "Diagnostics, fuel economy control, air cond–"

"I KNOW that, kid!" snapped Tom. "I did a piece on auto thieves stealing chips from your car 4 months ago, you know! But there’s no satellite dish or modem on your engine block!"

"Did you see that green flash earlier?" said Scott. "Do you think that had might have had something to do with it?"

Officer Welsh looked with dread toward the vehicle. "So what the blazes ARE we dealing with, and what does it want?"

Before Scott could say he didn’t have a clue yet, he saw a tell-tale streak of orange and white shoot over the rooftops. "Hello!" he exclaimed, "It’s Dyna!"

"Looks like she’s headed for the athletic center," said Welsh.

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Tom barked. "Get in the truck, and let’s follow her! Neil, crank it up!"

"Hey," said Officer Welsh. "How about a ride? My car’s fried."

"No can do," said Tom, oblivious to Pierre sneaking into the back of the truck behind him. "We’re the press. Got objectivity to keep up."

"But someone’s life might be in danger!"

"Get another car! Punch it, Neil! Follow that flying rack!" And Tom slammed the shotgun seat’s door behind him.

Welsh flashed his badge. "As an officer of NVPD, I’m commandeering this –"

But the truck had already peeled out.

***

"One! Two! Three! GO!"

Clang! The guys slammed the 500 lb. barbell into the door as hard as they could. But it held. They tried again. "One! Two! Three! GO!" Clang! The improvised battering ram hurt only their ears.

Roy took a breath, his muscle T-shirt totally drenched. "What the frack did they build that door with?! Reinforced concrete?!"

Another exerciser let go. "This heat is killing me," he moaned woozily.

"Pick it up and keep ramming!" snapped Cheryl. "Or we WILL be dead!"

Roy was hating himself. He sure could have used Bob’s weight backing up on the ram. Why’d he have to injure his arms like that?

"All right, people, let’s try again," she said, rasping for breath as they all fixed their grip. "Ready? One… two…"

Wham! went something in the outside hall. "What was that?!" yelped Bob.

Wham! went another something on the hall’s other end. "Hello!" yelled a female voice. "Anyone here?!"

Everyone shouted at once. "Hey!" "Over here!" "We’re trapped!"

"Get away from the door!" shouted the woman. Dropping the barbell, everyone backpedalled quickly.

WHOOM! The door flew right off the hinges into the weight room and slammed into the back wall. Right in front of the doorway was Dyna, the Damsel Dynamo. She pulled back her extended fist. "Is anyone else in here?"

Roy started, "Just us in he–"

"Merl’s trapped in the basement!" blurted Bob.

"Which way?" Dyna demanded.

Cheryl pointed. "Second door on the left, and take the stairs!"

Dyna floated out of the way and thrusted a finger to the nearest exit. "Hurry on out of here! I’ll go down below and get him out!"

And as she rocketed that way, the gym patrons beat feat toward the outside.

"I didn’t think 260 lbs. of blubber could move that fast!" Roy huffed to Bob’s fleeing back.

"250! Shut up before I turn around and sit on you!" Bob snarled back.

***

Merl rapped on the hinges with a screwdriver and hammer. He was thankful he still had his tools with him. He hurried as best he could to get the second linchpin out in the middle. As the huge boiler beside him rumbled, shook, and creaked, he hoped and prayed he’d get the one on top in time…

Crack! Pop! Pfshhhhhhhhh! A steam pipe elbow joint cracked, blasting out steam, and throwing a chunk of metal right in his back, making him fumble the tools. Frantically, he pawed the floor for them, but the steam made it impossible to see.

Then the machinery trembled. He was sure he was dead.

"Incoming!" Whoomp! The door flew off the hinges. Some woman was coming through the steam? An angel?

"Run for it!" he screamed. "Save yourself! The whole thing’s gonna blow!"

But instead, this woman came right near him, covered his body with hers (dang, she was BIG), wrapped her huge, muscular arms around his back, and pulled his head to that surprisingly massive, plush chest of hers. She pushed him down to the floor.

Well, thought Merl, if ya gotta go…

***

KA-BLAM!!!! The horrified escapees saw half of the New Vista University Athletic Center go up in a huge steam explosion. The debris that didn’t get blasted all over the campus came down into the basement. The smoke and steam slowly cleared.

Neil swereved to avoid a chunk of concrete rocketing past.

"Tell me you got that!" Tom shouted to Scott.

"I got it on the roof cam," was the answer.

And they bailed out of the van. But Scott tripped over Pierre’s foot.

"Pierre?!" he said. "What are YOU doing here!?"

"I thought I could…"

"You thought you were gonna get yourself hurt or killed?!" He sighed in disgust. "Stay in the van, and don’t touch anything!" And he dashed out with his camera.

"MERL!!!" shrieked Bob. He dashed to the rubble, not caring about his injured arms or any risk of fire or electric shock. He went to where the nearest corner was and started picking up and throwing stuff.

"Bob! Dude!" went Roy dashing after him.

"Keep staring, jock-itch-face! Maybe it’ll do a trick for you!" They all started to throw in and dig with their bare hands.

But though Bob’s spirit was willing, his flesh was weak. He dropped to his hands, arms aching. He started to cry.

Then with a rumble, the twisted metal and concrete fragments shifted and crumbled. Then like a Polaris missile, something blasted out and up, arched around and then came down right in front of the survivors. It was Dyna, with Merl in her arms.

"Bob!" Cheryl wailed with relief. "You all right?!"

Still tucked in against her chest, the maintenance man stuck out a hand doing the A-OK sign.

"All right," Dyna said. "Ride’s over, we’re stopped at the terminal. It’s safe to disembark." To the crowd, she called, "Everyone else OK?"

As the crowd affirmed it, Merl hopped down to his feet and looked up. "Lady," he said, "you need anything fixed, I’ll do it for free! Anytime!"

"Thanks," she said. "Right now, though, I gotta fix this hacker jerk, wherever he is."

And she flew back toward the quad, where the whole mess started. In flight, though, she wondered about her power of invulnerability. She knew that bullets couldn’t pierce her skin, and neither did the boiler’s blast or the gym’s debris. But somehow, her whole body wasn’t rock-hard all around when she protected the maintenance man. For one, she would have crushed him like a bug when she covered him. For two, she’d felt his cresent wrench against her hip.

At least she’d THOUGHT it was his cresent wrench…

And how or why did the bullets stick to her skin instead of simply dropping off?

She wondered how exactly her invulnerability worked, how much control over her solidity or density she had, if it were intuitive or autonomic, and what innovative ways she could use it in the fight against evil.

First things first. She had to get back and find someone who might find out what was going on. Maybe… that Pierre kid…

But as she got back to it, she didn’t see him anywhere.

***

"Y’know, for a computer ace, you sure showed a lousy substitute for brains just about now," Scott scolded as they rode back to the quad.

"I said I was sorry," Pierre whined.

"Where’s your mom, anyway?" Tom demanded.

"I took the bus here." Pierre answered. "I’m supposed to have an internet friend… DeenaMoe2004… show me around the campus. I want to see if I’ll want to go here."

"In what, 5 years?"

Exasperated, Pierre thrust out a news clipping. "Try next fall."

And it showed a small town paper photo, with him in a high school graduate’s uniform, and his diploma.

"Terrence Babbage, huh?" said Tom.

The student turned red as a beet. "TERRY Babbage," he said.

Scott cocked his head. "Head of your class?"

"Salutatorian."

"Well, all the same, if you’re gonna be smart, ya gotta act smart. We’d better drop you off and we can talk about more computer stuff from a safe spot."

Then the whole interior of the van glowed green. The video screens started scrambling. The feed from the studio went blank, and then the screen showed this:

#0// (4|| j00 +311 4 ||3+//0r|< 3×3(u+I /3 |z 1y|N9? #I5 1ip5 |/|0/3!!!11

Then right behind the letters, numbers and symbols, a figure appeared. It was a thin man’s black silhouette, with changing green ones and zeroes contouring his body. His digitized voice then sounded on the speakers.

"Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot I’m dealing with TV people here. Let me put it in plain 8th grade English for you."

The symbols then changed one by one, so the message now read:

How can you tell a network executive is lying? His lips move!

Pierre blinked. "Is that Mista Haxor?"

"Ding ding ding! Hey, hey, buddy!" went the mysterious figure, whose face then showed two cravats with an underscore between them like this: ^_^ "That’s right! You ARE the smartest one in this vehicle! And here’s your prize: You get to experience the beta of a new game! Something called… GTA New Vista!"

And then the screen went black, and then flashed "KILL FRENZY!"

SCREECH!!! The van then peeled out more rubber on the street and accelerated faster and faster.

"Neil!" Tom shouted. "What the frack are you doing?! Slow down, now!"

"It’s not me!" Neil yelped. "I’m not in control! This thing’s got a mind of its own!"

And the van barreled right onto the sidewalk, sending pedestrians running and screaming for cover.

**To Be Continued…**

[David C. Matthews]

Oooh, I’m lovin’ this…

So the kid’s name is now "Pierre"? "Pierre South, da Coder". Nice homage to… to… what was that show, Electric Company, had a character named "Fargo North, Decoder" on it?

(I think there are still a couple of spots where he’s still "Terry".)

Is "Pierre South" the kid’s real name, or just a screen name, a "hacker alias"? Is his real name still Terry?

[JimmyDimples]

Okay, I admit I jumped the gun when I hit the click. I wanted to share what I had, and get the kudos. Yeah, I’m bad that way… 😳 😉

I at first wanted to make his name Terry to make Deena think she was greeting someone female… But Pierre South was so cool, I couldn’t help myself.

And yes, that was a big-up/salute to The Electric Company. Back when kids’ Public TV was good.

I suppose I could make either Terry his nom de hack (TerryByte, anyone?) or his real name (Terry Boringnamehere)… or do the same for Pierre. I’m open to suggestions. I’ll also fix up the typos and errors a little later, okeh?

[David C. Matthews]

Okay, I admit I jumped the gun when I hit the click. I wanted to share what I had, and get the kudos. Yeah, I’m bad that way… 😳 😉

I at first wanted to make his name Terry to make Deena think she was greeting someone female… But Pierre South was so cool, I couldn’t help myself.

And yes, that was a big-up/salute to The Electric Company. Back when kids’ Public TV was good.

I suppose I could make either Terry his nom de hack (TerryByte, anyone?) or his real name (Terry Boringnamehere)… or do the same for Pierre. I’m open to suggestions. I’ll also fix up the typos and errors a little later, okeh?

"TerryByte" is cute; but I like "Pierre South da Coder". I’d like to see that be his "nom de hack", and Terry…

Hey, here’s a thought: his real name is Terrence Babbage. (Babbage after the inventor of the first calculating machine that was the forerunner of today’s computers, and also the inspiration for the name of the game/software store chain "Babbage’s".) He’s only "Terrence" to his mother; to everyone else he’s "Terry" (or "Pierre")… he doesn’t even tell other people his full first name.

[JimmyDimples]

Okay, I’ve deboogered the first three parts. And thanks for the advice, dcmatthews. I’ll have part 4 ready soon… and hopefully, I’ll take the action to the next level.

[JimmyDimples]

Chapter 4

"But Daaaaaad!" eight-year-old Gabrielle protested, "Magic Princess Mizuko comes on later!"

"You know the rules, young lady," he replied.  "No more cartoons after 9 A.M."

"Look, it's my favorite show!"

"Do you want to watch TV now, or go outside now."

Gabrielle started to fume… but then she counted to ten, like she was taught to do when she got mad.  Then she got an idea.  "Uh, look," she said more calmly.  "It comes on at 10:30.  If I go outside and play outside right now, and stay out there until it comes on, can I come in and watch it then?"

"What's the rule, Gabby?" her dad asked calmly.

She stamped her foot.  "That's not fair!"

"What's the rule?  It's no cartoons after 9.  So watch TV, or go outside, and if you say one more word back, go straight to your room without either."

"Can't we even TiVo it?"

"No.  Now–"

Just then, the screen got scrambled as Channel 5's station ID melted, revealing an old fashioned black and white bullseye test pattern.  But instead of the Indian chief's head was the black silhouette and green digits of Mista Haxor.

"Hi, kids!" his digitized voice announced.  "We interrupt our regularly scheduled government mandated boring educational pabulum to bring you some REAL entertainment!  It's time for Mista Haxor's Neighborhood!"

The picture then switched to a panorama of New Vista's skyline, courtesy of Channel 5's hijacked weather cam.  "It's a beautiful day in the neigbb– oop!  What's this?"  And the shot zoomed into the university campus… and the speeding, swerving TV news van.  "Oh my!  Looks like that truck driver's kinda new to the job, isn't he?"  And the van plowed through a nearby newsstand sending the vendor fleeing and papers and magazines flying.  Then it smashed through a Channel 11 signboard.  

"Hey!" Haxor scolded lightly.  "That's not very nice!  Sure, they're competitors, but still!"  The view then shot to one of the stalled patrol cars.  "Maybe the police should do something about this."  And with a flash of green, vroom!  Screech!  It jackrabbit started with sirens blaring and lights flashing.  But then it started going in circles, and swaying all over the street like the driver was drunk.  "Hey, who's driving that thing anyway?  Maybe we'd better send backup!"  And with that, he switched the view to a copter's skycam, and the green flash quickly jetted between two other dead prowl cars, which then zipped off aimlessly, terrorizing the walkers into runners.

Back at home, Gabriella's dad twiddled with his collar nervously.  "Uh, pumpkin," he offered with a nervous smile, "why don't you go outside and play now?  You can watch your magic princess show when it comes on.  10:30, right?"

Gabby looked back with a start.  "Are you kidding?!" she exclaimed.  "This is MUCH cooler!"

"No!  Outside, NOW!" Daddy grabbed her and was about to carry her outside.  Then a scream of a siren sounded, and one of the cars plowed right into the trash can and fire hydrant outside.  

"Never mind," he then whimpered.  "Let's watch TV."  He tried switching to another channel, but Haxor's mayhem was on every one.

***
"Neil!" Tom screamed.  "Where are we going!?"

"Looks like we're headed to the football stadium!" the driver yelled back.

"Can't you throw on the emergency brake or slap it in park or something?!"

"Already tried both!  Emergency brake's on already, and the auto-transmission must have an idiotproof chip setup in case someone shifts from forward to reverse so it doesn't strip its gears!"

"Haxor must've overridden it!" Scott yelled.  The van sideswiped a small hatchback and sent it into a phone pole, catapulting him against a bank of monitors.

Tom then stared at Terry, who was at a keyboard in the back.  "Kid!  What do you think you're doing?!  That's company property!"

"I'm trying to save our hides!" the boy yelled back.  "Gimme a username and password!"

"Username spratt, password is Deena!" Scott shouted.

"Name of your girlfriend who left for help?" Terry asked.  Scott nodded, to which the boy shook his head.  "Noob."

After some deft finger pecking by Terry and some coaching from a reluctant Tom and not nearly as reluctant Scott, the guys hustled to try to find a way to at least get the airwaves back.

***

After spotting a cop car rocketing through Restaurant Row and giving  a Donut Hut a drive-through window that wasn't there earlier, Dyna flew right behind it.  "Great," she muttered.  "This is like a farm in Georgia:  one cotton pickin' thing after another!"  Seeing no driver, but still wanting to control the damage, she picked up the police car effortlessly, flipped it upside down in her hands, and laid it with the roof on the pavement, crunching the emergency lights.  The engine roared and the wheels spun uselessly.  

"I gotta get a police scanner radio or walkie-talkies for Scott and me," she muttered.  Then she glanced at a pawn shop which had some TVs in the window.  She saw the show that was on every station.  And the overhead view showed the traffic mayhem.  

"Agh!" she groaned.  "This Haxor butthead's running me ragged!"

"Hey!" Scott's voice sounded over the TV's speakers.  "Dyna, if you can hear me!  I noticed there's a green flash every time this Mista Haxor takes over something!"

Just like with the cars, Dyna thought.  But cars aren't normally online, are they?

"That probably means he has to physically transport himself to anything that doesn't have some kinda digital connection!" Terry blurted quickly.

She blinked.  "Pie— er, Pete's sake!  What's a boy doing in the van?"

"Listen!"  Terry said.  "The patrol cars are in some sort of patter–"

"Heard that!" Mista Haxor said over the broadcast.  Then in the truck, the onboard computer's ground hideously, and Terry's screen read, "System Error:  Mic not found."

"Any more coaching from the peanut gallery, kid," growled Haxor, "and I'll make this system blow up in your face.  Literally!"

Dyna didn't waste any time.  She flew right into the pawnshop and stopped just short, chest to face, with the clerk.  "Need to borrow a battery-powered TV!"

"Uhhhh… okay," he uttered, stunned.

And with the set, zipping up to a higher level, Dyna surveyed the city blocks like the maze to a game of Pac-Man.  She spotted the patrol cars, and yes, while they were weaving around, they were following a pattern, just like the ghosts in that game.  With that, she nosedived to the second car, caught it, and flipped it over like a turtle on its back.  Then she pogoed up again, spotted the third, and did the same.

She then checked the TV.  Haxor's face turned into accented Os like this:  ò.ó  Glowering, his digits turned red.  "You?!  Can't a guy have a little bit of fun without some chixor getting in the way?!"

"That's Dyna to you, you little creep!" she spat.  "Now are you gonna cut the–"

"Aw, put a sock in it.  I can't hear you anyway.  No mic around."  But his digits slowly turned back to green.  "Ah, well.  All good.  Ah Might as well tune in to the big game!  Today, it's the NVU Doofusdorks versus the Detroit Rolling Metal!"

And right on the screen, she saw the university football field with the team suited up and doing a scrimmage.  "Hey, boys and girls!" Haxor said.  "Let's see if our football team can tackle a news van!"  And soon the news van tore onto the field, breaking up the formations hard, and chasing the running backs into the stands.  "How many points is a lineman worth?" he asked rhetorically.  

Hissing through her teeth, Dyna jetted toward the stadium.  But just as the saw the green of the grass, her heart sank.  "Oh no… Scott… not here…!"

Right under the scoreboard at the visitor's end of the field was a very-high tech looking Sparta Industries medium battle tank.

To Be Continued…

[David C. Matthews]

I am really enjoying this!!

[JimmyDimples]

Sorry I let this sit by the wayside for so long, but… I was working on writing more, and realized this thing's in the wrong spot.  Would someone be kind enough to put this in the Fan Fiction folder?

Thankew.

addendum:  GACK!  I spotted I'd missed on itty, bitty word in Chapter 1, tried to modify it, and it won't print past that last batch of leetspeak in the dialogue!  Tried deleting the intro passage at the beginning, and it STILL won't add in the rest!  😡 Could SOMEONE fix this, please?

[JimmyDimples]

Chapter 5:

From high above, Dyna eyed the sinister dark blue armored fighting machine.  Sprouting out the turret's vented main gun portal was a clear glass-like rod with crystal disks ringing around it.  "This must be Sparta's laser cannon tank Scott talked about earlier," she dreaded.

A hatch flipped up alongside the SPARTA logo on the front the tank's main body.   Loudspeakers popped out.  "Attention, you in the news vehicle!  This is Colonel Wyatt Washing," a nasal voice rang.  "We are authorized to use maximum force to demobilize your threat to the civilian populace.  You have 30 seconds to stop and abandon the vehicle.  If you have not done so, we will open fire."   

Gasping, Dyna nosedove like a bomb and whooshed to a midair stop straight in front of the laser cannon's line of sight, blocking the way. "NO!!! Don't shoot!" she screamed, waving her arms as she hovered.  "There are hostages inside!" 

"And there are innocent bystanders all over the campus, ma'am," the speakers droned.  "We've got to protect the larger public, before any more end up under their tire tread." 

And just then, BAM!  The van's radiator grill slammed into the back of Dyna's legs.  It knocked her forward a little since she was aloft and wasn't expecting it, but the radiator grill and hood paid the price, the former a mangled mess, the latter rearing up and blocking Neil's view. 

"That was an assault!" the speaker sounded.  "We are now authorized to use lethal force!  Energize laser cannon!"  And the glass shaft started to brighten with a yellow-white glow. 

Shrieking, Dyna spun around, veered to the truck's right, dived for the undercarriage, and hefted it up, up, and away!  And she whisked it right up to a nearby concession stand's roof, and laid it on its side so it couldn't roll.  The doors to the back quickly swung open, and the three men and young lad scampered out speedily.  It was all she could do to stop herself from hugging Scott to pieces.  "You guys okay?"

"Rattled, but fine," her secret sweetie said.

"I took a header against the wall, thanks to you," grumbled Tom.

"We're ALIVE, thanks to her!" snapped Neil. 

Terry simply stared right at Dyna dazedly.  She bent down to him.  "Hey, are you all right?" she asked. Silence.  "Hello?"  She brushed her fingers against his cheek, then waved them in front of his eyes.  "Are you there?"  She then appeared concerned.  "Is he in shock?"

"Wow," he said dreamily.  Then he snapped out of it.  "Yeah.  I mean no! No, I'm fine, I'm okay.  Thanks…" 

With a relieved sigh, she glared back at the tank. "I can't believe how gung ho some military types can be!" she growled. "Have I got some choice words for that Colonel Washing guy!"

"Colonel who?" asked Scott.

"Colonel Washing.  The guy with the Sparta tank."

Tom blinked.  "The guy we we were gonna interview's named Major Rick Steiner.  I never heard of this Washing-whosis."

Then the tank rumbled on the field below and the turret turned toward the city proper.  Its laser cannon glowed blindingly bright.

Colonel Washing's voice sounded on the loudspeakers.  "You, Dyna…" Then it digitally distorted:  "…are so easily punk'd!"

"Haxor!" she exclaimed. 

KHFREAAOW!!!  A searing blast of pure light surged right out of the laser cannon and right onto a construction site for a twin 30 story apartment tower complex.  It cut right through one tower's eighth floor's west side, leaving a gaping hole.  Unbalanced, it started to lean and crumble that way, with a mall right in its path.

"Attention shoppers!" sounded Haxor on Dyna's borrowed Watchman.  "Fall sale!"

"No!"  And jetting over there as fast as she could, Dyna caught the thing right at the 28th floor right in the middle of its fall, and pushed back hard.  Muscles contracted, veins popped up, and teeth chenched, Dyna struggled and strained to stop the toppling mass of concrete from crushing the screaming, fleeing shoppers and store staff. It pushed her down… down… down… and just 40 feet up, she finally stopped it, and started to push it back up. 

But just as she searched the grounds for a proper place to put it to rest…  KHFREAAOW!!!  Another blast slashed through the 7th floor of the other unfinished building!  It started crumbling and falling her way.

"Bah-hahahahaha!" went Haxor with glee. "Specia–(KFFFT)"  The falling tower had blocked  her TV's reception for a moment. "–eekend only, two for the price of one!" 

Faster than she could think about it, Dyna gave her caught building an extra shove, and pushed it the other way with enough momentum to start to topple toward the other tower. Then she darted between the two edifices and caught them, letting each one rest against a hand.  She grimaced under the pressure.

***

While the tank was blasting away, Terry looked at the overturned van.  Then looking back to Scott, Neil, and Tom, he put a finger to his lips, and crept back into the van.  The other three followed silently.

Since the computer keyboard and monitor were mounted on the side of the van facing up, Scott had to hold Terry up so he could peck away.  Tom resorted to a low-tech way of text communication… an old fashioned pen and pad.  "Gonna try to hack the station again?" he wrote.

Terry gave the thumbs down.  And he wrote with one hand while mousing and typing with the other:  "Hack the tank.  H4X0R pro'lly used TV sat. to enter it."

After pecking around, Terry gasped.  Scott cocked his head back, askingly. 

Terry wrote again.  "Found him!  He's using the truck's sat. system!  HE'S STILL IN HERE!"

Scott took the pen and paper next:  "Not for long, he ain't."

He whispered a little something to Neil, who nodded, and pulled out some wire clippers and tiptoed out of the truck.  Then after he got his own tools, and he traded off Terry to Tom, who hefted him up reluctantly, Scott got to work.

"Now that's a squeeze play, ladies and gentlemen," Haxor crowed over the airwaves and tank loudspeaker.  "And you newsmobile schmoes."  The tank turned around and headed toward the campus.  "I love this new toy!  Hmm, decisions, decisions.  Should we go cruising around NVU and show it off?  Or guide Dyna into the light?"

***

"Just like Samson in the Philistine temple," our heroine grunted.  But this time she had to save thousands of lives, not kill them.  Well, except for Haxor, when she got her hands on him.  She groaned.  One high-rise by itself was enough of a strain.  Two, though, was unendurable.

At her current strengh, anyhow.

"Please," she prayed, "let me do this right…"

She quickly turned over in midair, and caught the west tower with her feet, and let the east tower bear down on her massive shoulders.   As her thigh muscles swelled and back ached as she pushed back, she reached over for her belt buckle, and twisted it for one quarter turn.  What happened next, she didn't enjoy as much this time.  Sure, she felt the glow again, just like when she'd first transformed.  She felt the power filling her again, pushing outward like a warm wind filling a balloon.  She felt the shoulders widening, the chest broadening, the biceps, triceps, thighs, calves, and yes, her bosom inflating with power.  She felt her whole self stretch from well over an impressive 6 feet tall head to toe to a hand over 7 feet.  And while she felt the full weight of the crushing tenaments, she didn't feel the strain as much.

She would have enjoyed it thoroughly, of course, if thousands of New Vista citizens weren't in the danger zone.

Finally the glow faded out.  As she caught her breath, the first assaulted building gave way at the bottom..  After the laser shot on one side and the strain of being pushed back, it started to collapse.  With a feel for it, Dyna gave just enough push back so the ruined tower caved in straight down on the foundation in one massive pile.  Then once she steadied the one leaning on her back, she worked her way down to the ground and held it steady.  Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a cement mixer.

That, the concrete, and the earler fuzzy reception from the TV gave her an idea. 

Since she could tell the other tower was a loss also, she zipped up to the top story, holding the building steady as she ascended.  And with one punch on each corner she broke off the top story's wall and ceiling from the floor itself.  Then sliding down, she smashed the last surviving corners at the bottom, and let the ruin cave in straight down.

But at the last second she caught the top story's walls and roof, and lifted it up in the middle with one hand, balancing it overhead like a fancy waiter's tray.  Then she snagged the cement mixer, scooped some rubble into it, and took off back to the stadium and the tank.

***

Scott held up three fingers to Neil.  Then two… one…

Snip! Rip!  Neil cut the truck's battery cable, and Scott tore out the wiring to any battery backups to the truck's electronics.  All the equipment shut down and the screens winked out.

"Ha!" Scott shouted.  "You're unplugged, Haxor!"   

Then out of the truck surged that poison grean streak, which then entered the tank.

"Wrongo, Scott!" Haxor taunted.  "You can't touch me!  I'm pure electronic data!  The whole digital world is my backup system!"  The turrett then turned toward the concession stand and the barrel shimmered harshly as it powered up.  Fortunately that gave the guys time to clear the vehicle.  "Prepare to be fragged, foolio!"

FZAAM!!!  The guys leapt off the snack stand's roof in different directions as the energy blast slammed through the truck.  The gas tank blew apart some of it, but the rest was one melted pile of slag.

"Mreh. So many targets, so little time," Haxor fumed.  "Hey, wait a sec… this things got a link-up to the military base!  Sweet!  Let's call in a few more tanks, some Apache helicopters, and hey!  Is that B-1 bomber nuke capable?!  Fraggin' A!"

He was totally oblivious to the widening square shadow over him.

Whoom!  Four grey walls and a ceiling crashed down around him.  "IF you can get a connection!" Dyna thundered.  "You can't get a signal through concrete!"

"Through an open window, I can," said Haxor.  And the room brightened.

"Oh, NO, you don't!"  And Dyna twisted and snapped the laser cannon right off its mounting.

"Okay, I'll take the garage door!"  And he rolled forward.  But Dyna stopped him cold with one hand.  After the tank strained and just before it stripped its gears, it shifted in reverse.

She grabbed the tank.  "Sorry, Haxor," she said.  "This service is currently unavailable!"  And she thrust a chunk of concrete between the right tread track and its wheel so it couldn't move.  Then she wrenched off the turret, pushed it back, reached into
the cockpit, and wrenched out the electronics.  Finding the main black box, she then yanked it out, tossed it into the cement mixer she'd brought, and slammed the lid shut. 

Scott, Tom, Terry, and Neil crept up cautiously toward the improvised prison.  Then suddenly, one wall flopped over with a thud, and marching right out with the mixer in her hands was Dyna.

"Dyna?" asked Scott.

"Is it safe?" peeped Tom.

"Dude," whispered Terry.  "Did she just get… bigger?"

She looked Terry's way.  "Sorry, never caught your name."

"Oh."  Terry blushed.  "It's Terry.  Terry Babbage."

"Well, Terry, as I believe you'd say," Dyna grinned with a thumbs up, "we ownz'ed him."

***

"I'm terribly sorry I bolted on you like that, Terry," Deena said, sipping her mocha at the net cafe.  "I hope your day here hasn't scared you off.  The university should get everything fixed hopefully by the time your classes start… if you're still coming."

Terry grinned like a Cheshire cat.  "You kidding me?!  I wanna register RIGHT NOW! I met Dyna face to face!  I'm gonna be on the news!  The guys back at school are gonna be so jealous!  This day ROCKED!"

"Dude!" someone said.  "You met Dyna, too?" 

Terry spun around.  "Whoa!  That you, BuffaloButtBob?"

"That you, PierreSouthDaCoder?" Bob from the gym asked back.

"Hey, you know each other?" Deena asked cheerily.

"Yeah!" Terry said.  "Internet buds for about four years now.  You met Dyna, too, Bob?"

"Uh huh.  I was in the fitness center when that Haxor thing locked it down.  Dyna got us out, and rescued the maintenance guy when it blew."

"So what happened to Haxor anyway?  Where'd they take him?"

"Scott said the police have him in special confinement until they can find a way to get him out without hitting any electronics to escape," Deena said.  "They're sending for a specialist."

"Man," Terry muttered.  "What crawled up his butt and died?"

"Yeah," Bob said.  "I thought some of the gym rats were buttheads.  But this guy makes the typical troll or spammer look like Mother Teresa!"

"Well, I'm just glad you guys aren't like that," Deena said.

"Thanks," said Terry.  "I faced my share of… erm… cranial-rectal inverts on the web before.  I want to make sure I'm never like that."

"We stand together!" Bob said. 

They all chuckled.  "Hey, Bob, what's that?" Deena said, pointing at his monitor.

"It's some footage we got from a Blipmart.  Says Dyna was there stopping a robbery there.  Probably faked."

"Faked?!"

"Yeah.  Look here."  Bob pointed at the monitor.  "See when the thug fires his gun?  The bullets fly and hit her face, and stay put 'til she wipes them off."

"So?"

"So?!  How do they stay up on her skin? Krazy Glue?"

"Look, Bob," Terry went, "it's not that tough.  They're squash heads.  Hollow points and all.  When they hit her, they spread out all over to hit more surface area.  Against regular flesh, that'd have more killing power.  Against Diana, though, it just makes like Play-Doh, dissipates, and doesn't ricochet off."

"Yeah, but she's a hard-bod-ee," Bob said, deliberately slowing his speech.  "The bullets are slow-er, and lose their im-pact speed to booooot.  They should fall off onto the lin-o-le-um."

Terry got irritated.  "Well, you're a soft-bod-ee," he mocked.  "And I've seen her face to faaaaace.  That vid-ee-oh looks just like her.  I knoooooow it's Dy-nah."

"Like SHE'D talk to you! You met her once!" Bob growled.  "And she probably wiped your tears away and offered to take you home to Mommy."

"YOUR mommy!  Like YOU'D ever have a chance with her,  Mr. Extra Bandwidth Floppy Drive!!"

And the meatspace flame war raged on.  Rolling her eyes, Deena quietly sipped her mocha and let the fanboys go at it.  So much for geek solidarity.

Until next issue… L8R, GTG! 😉

[Fonk]

That was a really fantastic story. Great work, man! 😀

[Author]

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