Chapter 9 : Red Tornado
February 2016 — DEO Desert Facility — Testing Range
The robot was beautiful.
I hated admitting it, but there was no denying the engineering. Red Tornado stood twelve feet tall, humanoid frame covered in crimson armor plating, wind-generation systems built into every joint. A perfect killing machine, designed for exactly one purpose.
"Behold." General Sam Lane swept his arm toward the creation like a ringmaster introducing his star attraction. "The future of planetary defense."
Against Kryptonians. He means defense against Kryptonians.
Kara stood rigid beside me, jaw clenched, watching the android that had been built specifically to murder people like her. The DEO command staff maintained professional neutrality, but I caught the glances exchanged behind Lane's back. No one here was happy about this.
"The Red Tornado utilizes advanced wind manipulation technology combined with predictive combat algorithms," Lane continued. "In simulations, it achieved a 94% success rate against targets with Kryptonian-level strength and speed."
"Simulations." Alex's voice was flat. "Not field tests."
"That's why we're here, Agent Danvers. To demonstrate the real thing." Lane's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Supergirl, if you'd be so kind?"
The test started badly and got worse.
Red Tornado was fast—faster than the specs suggested. Its wind generation created localized cyclones that threw Kara off balance. The predictive algorithms adapted to her fighting style in real-time, adjusting tactics mid-combat.
For three minutes, it looked like the robot might actually win.
Then something went wrong.
The control signals from Dr. Morrow's station cut out. Red Tornado's eyes—sensor arrays, really—flickered from operational blue to an angry red. Its attack patterns shifted from defensive demonstration to lethal intent.
"It's gone autonomous!" Morrow's voice cracked through the comms. "I've lost the kill switch!"
Lane screamed orders. Agents scrambled for weapons that wouldn't do anything useful. And Red Tornado turned its full attention to its primary target.
Supergirl.
Winn Schott
The robot's communications frequency burned against my senses.
I hadn't told anyone about this particular application of Lightning Logic—the ability to detect and interpret electromagnetic signals. It was still developing, unreliable, giving me splitting headaches every time I pushed it too far.
But right now, with Kara fighting for her life against a machine that should not exist, I didn't care about headaches.
I grabbed a spare terminal and started typing.
"Winn, what are you—"
"The kill switch isn't just disabled." My fingers flew across the keyboard, translating the patterns I could feel into something the DEO's systems could work with. "It's been actively blocked. Someone is controlling this thing remotely."
"Morrow?"
"Has to be. The signal's bouncing through multiple relay points, but the origin—" I mapped the trajectory, traced the frequency, found the source. "Industrial district. Abandoned research facility."
Alex was already moving. "I'll take a team."
"Go. I'll keep working on countermeasures from here."
She hesitated for half a second—be careful—then disappeared.
On the screens, Kara was taking hits. The tornado effects knocked her sideways, disrupted her flight patterns, slammed her into the ground hard enough to crater concrete. She was getting angry.
Which is exactly what Lane wants. Proof that Kryptonians are dangerous.
I opened a private comm channel.
"Kara. You need to calm down."
"Calm down?" Her voice came through ragged, furious. "This thing is trying to kill me!"
"I know. And it's winning because you're fighting angry. You're telegraphing your moves, overcommitting to attacks. The algorithm is learning your patterns."
"Then what do I do?"
I watched the fight, tracking Red Tornado's movements, looking for gaps in its programming. The predictive algorithms were impressive, but they weren't perfect. They relied on consistent behavior.
"Be inconsistent. Random. Do something it can't predict."
"Like what?"
"Stop fighting. Just... stop."
Silence on the comm. Then—
Kara dropped her guard. Landed. Stood perfectly still.
Red Tornado hesitated. Its algorithms churned, searching for context, trying to classify this new behavior. For three precious seconds, it did nothing.
"Now," I said. "Hit the center mass."
She moved faster than I could track. One punch, perfectly placed, right through the android's chest cavity. Her fist emerged clutching a tangle of wires and circuitry.
Red Tornado collapsed.
DEO Training Room — That Night
The punching bag exploded.
Kara stood amid the wreckage, breathing hard, knuckles raw despite her invulnerability. She'd been at this for hours—destroying equipment, venting rage, refusing to talk to anyone.
I found her because no one else wanted to try.
"You're going to run out of bags eventually."
She didn't turn around. "Get another one."
"Or." I leaned against the doorframe. "You could tell me what's really wrong."
Silence. The gym smelled like sweat and ozone—she'd been using heat vision on the heavier equipment. Scorch marks decorated the walls.
"Lane wanted me to fail." Her voice was quiet, raw. "He wanted that thing to beat me. To prove that I'm the real threat. That humans need protection from me."
"Probably."
"And everyone was watching. All those agents, all those soldiers. Waiting to see if I'd lose control."
"Some of them, maybe."
She finally faced me. Her eyes were red-rimmed, not from tears but from the heat building behind them.
"Do you think I'm dangerous, Winn?"
You could destroy this building with a thought. You could level the city if you wanted to. Of course you're dangerous.
"I think," I said carefully, "that being dangerous and being a danger are different things."
"That doesn't answer my question."
I walked into the room, stepping over demolished equipment. Stood close enough that she could break me in half with a sneeze, and didn't flinch.
"My father is the Toyman. You know that."
"Winn—"
"He built bombs that looked like Christmas presents. Killed seven people because a corporation stole his patents. And my whole life, everyone looked at me and wondered when I'd snap the same way."
Kara went still.
"But I didn't snap. Because we're not our fathers, Kara." I held her gaze. "We don't inherit their sins. We choose who we become. Every day, every decision. And everything I've seen you choose is good."
"You don't know—"
"I know you caught a plane full of strangers because your sister was on board. I know you've saved dozens of lives in two months. I know that right now, you're so terrified of becoming what Lane thinks you are that you're hiding in here, punishing yourself."
I reached out. Took her hand. Let her feel that I wasn't afraid.
"You're not a monster, Kara. You're my friend. And I'm not going anywhere."
Something broke behind her eyes. Not the dam of tears—something harder. The wall she'd built against the fear.
She pulled me into a hug. Crushing, but careful. Always so careful.
"Morrow set up the whole thing," she said into my shoulder. "Alex confirmed it. He wanted revenge on Lane for shutting down his projects."
"So Red Tornado wasn't about you at all."
"Collateral damage." Her laugh was bitter. "Story of my life."
I didn't have a response to that. So I just held on.
The next morning, Kara destroyed what remained of Red Tornado.
She stood on the testing range, faced the wreckage they'd reconstructed for this purpose, and unleashed heat vision until there was nothing left but molten slag. Catharsis through controlled demolition.
When it was over, she swayed. I caught her before she could fall.
"I've got you."
She smiled, exhausted but finally at peace.
"I know you do."
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