I might be struggling to release the next chapter of The Enhanced Series, but the great authors at The Pen and Cape Society have been hard-at-work putting together a new anthology. The Good Fight 3: Sidekicks is now available.

You can find The Good Fight 3: Sidekicks at Smashwords and Amazon. Check it out!

Congrats to Drew Hayes for his release of Corpies on Amazon. Titan is a flawed but worthy superhero that only wants to do good, if his employer and agent will let him do his job.

You can buy Corpies on Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Corpies-Super-Powereds-Spinoff-Book-ebook/dp/B01D9C21DE/

Drew is hosting a release event today (April 13, 2016) on Facebook from 11:00a – 3:00p EDT.

The increased number of shanties also meant an increased number of people and more importantly, mundane guards carrying various firearms . Most of the weapons appeared to be in poor condition, a result of prolonged combat and the lack of supplies to maintain the weapons. This was not an army with a supply officer waiting to fulfill any request, but a poorly organized militia using whatever supplies they had available or could steal.

The trio approached quietly to Fireball’s headquarters, the former Worthen Arena, a decrepit stadium that held Ball State basketball and volleyball games. Archangel hovered off the ground a few yards to Michael’s left to minimize any noise and maintain stealth. Michael reduced the mass his body exerted on the ground until each step was a light breeze across the concrete and earth. Maze immediately disappeared when they reached the first sentry, hiding beneath his invisibility cloak. Michael expected this tactic, it was Maze’s signature strategy that infuriated his partners, especially Orbital Strike who preferred a holistic team tactic to the lone-wolf.

Michael waved to Archangel to join him when he found a location out of sight of the immediate guards behind a K rail stacked up as a barrier around the arena.

“So, what’s the plan?” Michael asked as she glanced around. “I counted at least a dozen children playing nearby. If Fireball decides to go toe-to-toe with us, a lot of people are going to get hurt. A lot of mundanes are going to fight to protect him if he’s the only thing keeping the other Enhanced out.”

“We can’t just leave him here, but I don’t want all these mundanes hurt either. If we had a team like in Crawfordville, a quick assault on this arena would end it quick. Unless they have a death wish, most Enhanced give up at the first sight of a JTF Osprey.”

“So what do you suggest, Maze?” Michael asked looking over Archangel’s shoulder.

“What? Where?” Archangel asked startled as she turned around to see the old Enhanced appear out of thin air, his cloak hood pulled back from his graying hair.

“I was wondering if you could see me,” Maze said without any hint of surprise.

Michael nodded and smiled beneath the layer concern. “Once I thought about how the cloak worked, the light wrapping around you, I knew what to look for. It’s not much different from stars bending light due to their mass.”

“That’s what I thought. It also answers another riddle that has plagued me for some time,” Maze said with obvious reluctance.

“What is that?” Archangel said recovering from his sudden reemergence. “That you’re creepy and psychotic? We all know that.”

“I could live with those labels, Archangel, but I’m afraid this riddle is far more serious. I’m rapidly losing my abilities.”

Michael gasped. “You’re telling us this now? What the hell, Maze?”

Maze leaned back against the K rail, his face appearing to age in the flickering torchlight surrounding the arena. “My specialty is time. I can see patterns and I can use those patterns to determine the future with great accuracy, but with you, son, your power interrupts mine. You’re creating ripples that I cannot anticipate. And the closer I remain to you, the less I can reliably see when I can use my powers at all.” Maze thought of the vision of Michael destroying the city. Was that a ripple? No, it was still accurate; the ripples were not subtle and his eyes opened with a roaring headache afterwards.

It only took a moment for Michael to remember his physics class. “I can control mass, and thanks to Mister Einstein, we know space and time are intricately related. I manipulate the space of objects…”

“…and time is also changed,” Maze finished. “If this was a comic book, we’d be destined as mortal enemies.”

“You still have the cloak and you sword,” Archangel asked, “and you can still fight?”

“That I can, Archangel. My goals and resolve have not changed. But I’m afraid they may not be enough against Fireball. When I said he explodes into flame, I mean that literally.”

Archangel looked confused. “Like a human torch or something? It’s not an easy task, but nothing we haven’t trained for.”

“You don’t understand, he’s not a man on fire when he builds up to full power. He becomes fire and near impossible to stop unless you have another elementalist powerful enough to force him back into his human form.”

Alaina growled in anger. “You are well aware of my powers. I’m also an elementalist.”

“My apologies.” Maze sounded sincere. “But lightning will not do much to contain fire. If Orbital Strike was here to manipulate the fire, or even better, Valkyrie to pull it out, we could attack Fireball directly. But you are neither your father or your aunt. If we are going to take him down, it will need to be quick before he ignites his whole body. Once he does, he will incinerate everything in the area including all these people to kill us.”

“Then we’ll just make sure that won’t happen,” Archangel replied as a woman sure of herself. “But his guards and these mundanes are going to be a problem. They fear him more than they fear three rogue agents.”

Michael was not sure if she was putting up a front because she was confidant, or if the bravado was determination to finish what her father and the JTF failed to do. But what would they do about the mundanes still living here? How do they save them from the next Enhanced from terrorizing the population if they can eliminate Fireball?

“Alaina, you’re a genius,” Michael answered, “but you’re not going to like your answer to our little problem.”

Archangel frowned and Maze hinted a smile as they stared at him.

I’m trading the sweet serenity of the sweatpants every day dress code of my remote status for the sights and sounds of a skyscraper office. I’m not thrilled about the commute, but it will be nice (and healthy) to mingle with other coworkers after many years of hiding in my home office.

And what does that mean for Michael and the gang? I’ll see you on Friday with a new chapter.

…then I’m off to see Deadpool.

This is not my first time I’ve been kicked down, but it’s a shock every time. However, my family is too important to waddle in self-pity and I respect myself too much to become angry or bitter.

Thanks to everyone that has visits my website and enjoys my writing. If you’re the praying type, I can always use the extra help from above. If you’re not, just think happy thoughts for me.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Amira asked as Scott, hidden beneath dark sunglasses and a hat, hesitated at the front door.

Scott hated shopping. His mother employed public relations and marketing specialists that did the shopping for him and his father so they all would compliment each other in and out of uniform. After joining the JTF, when he needed more clothes, he traveled to the storage units that he rented and replaced them. He did not care what he wore as long as it fit. He adjusted the baseball hat he purchased from the teenage boy that lived next door to Amira after she pointed out that he stood out in a crowd.

“Sure,” he said not believing a word. “I promised to go with you and here I am. I’m just not used to doing normal things.”

Amira wrapped her body around his large right arm. Her hand slipped into his as she looked up and smiled. “I know this is hard for you after everything you told me about your childhood, but this is good for you and me. We can’t let fear rule us or those evil people out there win.”

The people trying to kill you or my mother? Scott wondered wisely remaining silent. “This is a therapeutic trip for both of us to move on with our lives.”

Amira glanced at the sidewalk, a hint of sadness creeping over her. Scott knew she was thinking about Jason. He did too almost every night when he woke up in a cold sweat from the nightmares about the knife that almost killed him, that did kill Cortex.

“We both do need this, Amira. C’mon,” Scott said as he opened the door for the smaller speedster.

“Such a gentleman,” she laughed walking in. Her eyes exploded as she stared at all the clothes and choices.

His phone buzzed in his pocket in a pattern he knew. The vibration was set as low as possible so no one but him could hear it. Scott did not want any interruptions so he ignored it..

“Are going to answer that?” Amira asked pointing to his pants pocket.

“Answer what?”

“Your phone that’s buzzing. That ringer is really annoying by the way.”

Scott looked surprised. “You can hear my phone?”

“Well, duh, I just asked about it,” teased Amira. “But either it’s broken or I need to check my hearing. It sounds strange.”

The phone continued to buzz as he ignored it. “No, that’s great. That means your body is starting to adapt to your abilities. Our senses, hearing, eye sight, touch, are much more sensitive than mundanes.” Scott nodded to the shoppers in the stores who blissfully ignored them. “For most of us, this acceptance happens when we first emerge, but you never pushed yourself and hid your talents. This is good progress and will help in training.”

“That’s great, Scott, but aren’t you going to answer your phone?”

Scott shook his head. “Nah, it’s just work.”

“What if it’s important?” Amira asked.

“It’s not. Thorton has Scimitar doing some demo for the visiting Marines. He wanted me there but I’m not interested in that crap. Enhanced criminals need to be handled by Enhanced agents. The military should worry about the Caliphate and leave the police business to the JTF.”

Waves of anxiety flooded over Amira’s face. “The Enhanced online are scared and angry. Some of them think the government wants to wipe us out. Many of them are joining the protestors or worse, they’re talking about forming Enhanced militias.”

Scott squeezed Amira’s hand gently. Although they were both speedsters, he was also a tank and could crush every bone in her body. “That’s just Internet bullshit, Amira,” he lied. He heard reports of the same thing and in some areas in the South, Enhanced were already forming self-defense teams. It was one of the reasons the Marines were asked to get involved. “Things will blow over and eventually the mundanes will learn to accept us like everyone else in the world.”

“I hope so. I’ve already lost so much and I don’t want to lose you too.”

Her voice drifted off as she looked up at the man holding close to his well-muscled body. Amira leaned up to his face, her palms resting on the back of his neck and on his shoulder. Scott leaned forward and closed his eyes.

The phone buzzed again, this time in a rapid pulse. Scott knew it was an emergency contact. Amira pulled away.

“You should probably get that.”

“I told you, I want to spend time with you. The JTF can wait.”

“You can’t ignore the JTF, Scott. While you talk, I’ll go take a look around.”

Scott sighed as Amira walked away and pulled a shirt off the rack. She would not change her mind until he did what she asked. He pressing the answer button and angrily raised the phone to his ear.

“This better be important or I’m going to be pissed,” Scott yelled.

“Justice?” a soft voice asked in-between sniffles. The caller was obviously crying

“Yeah? Who is this?”

“I’m sorry,” the voice apologized. “I didn’t know who else to ask. I need help and command turned me away.”

The hint of familiarity hit Scott. “Trauma? Is that you? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“They are sending Khaleel off on a suicide mission.”

Scimitar knew the JTF engineers programmed the drone to mimic Archangel’s flying style from training footage of her battles with the other recruits and the mundane agents. She was calculating and decisive in her actions so the drone would be too. The drone started to move right again when Scimitar shifted his balance, but before he could put both feet back on the ground, a bolt of lightning erupted from the wall, struck the drone and clipped his shoulder before he could dodge out-of-the-way. Scimitar went airborne, the wind knocked out of him when he hit the asphalt twenty feet away and tumbled across the street.

“Stupid,” Scimitar yelled angry at himself. Alaina did the same move to Justice during one of the training matches with the same results, but Justice immediately jumped up and speed charged behind cover before the next bolt hurled at him. Scimitar did not have super speed and the drone was closing in with nowhere to hide. He knew that he could not avoid the next blast which would likely end the training session with him “dead” and embarrassed in front of all the guests.

The drone hovered just short and above the prone Scimitar. As the next bolt charged, the air sizzling as the generators spun up, Scimitar changed his arms into long metal spikes. He punched down as hard as possible, his spiked arms splitting the asphalt like an arrow shot in a haystack. A thin shield spread out like wings hiding him from the drones view.

The bolt struck Scimitar’s metal arms, the white-hot electricity flowing down the shafts harmlessly into the ground. The drone flew backwards, the computer logic confused by the lack of damage to the target. Scimitar stood up with a large grin as his shield reformed into arms..

“Didn’t expect me to ground myself, did you?” Khaleel said confidently and adding a laugh. “Let’s see what you have now when you can’t electrocute someone.”

The sound of crumpling sheet metal erupted behind Scimitar. He turned around to see Rumbler, a tank the team recently captured in Cincinnati and currently awaiting transport to Leavenworth.

“Hi there,” Scimitar said smiling. “I wondered when you’d show up.”

Rumbler did not say anything as the sound of the capacitor firing again filled the facility. Scimitar instinctively rolled to the right as the bolt of light gouged the asphalt. Rumbler dove out-of-the-way when the bolt neared him.

“Don’t like electricity either, big boy? C’mon, let’s get this show started.” Scimitar flattened the left pole into a shield.

Rumbler charged as Scimitar braced for impact. Just before Rumbler impacted, Scimitar jumped up, putting his knees on the back of the shield. Rumbler crashed head first into the shield and sent Scimitar airborne again.

This time, Khaleel did not tumble mid-air as he rotated his body 180 degrees and faced the rapidly approaching drone. The drone’s programming realized the danger and tried to gain altitude, but it was too slow. Scimitar’s right arm formed a hook as he wrapped it around the flying drone.

“Now I have you, sharmuta,” Scimitar cursed in his native Arabic to the drone’s sensors. He knew the machine would not respond or have any idea who he was talking to, but it felt good to say it anyways.

The drone tried to spin but the extra weight taxed the engines struggling to keep man and machine in the air. When the drone realized it could not shake the extra weight, it leveled again as the capacitor charged.

Scimitar glanced at the ground where Rumbler waited for him to fall and then looked up at the directional control for the lightning. He reached up with left arm, changing to clamp and locking himself on it. His right arm shifted to a large two-prong fork as metal from his arms bridged over his chest.

The bolt stuck the drone as the bridge pieces merged. The lightning roared down the metal arm and across the bridge. Scimitar strained his neck back as the heat assaulted the skin on his face. The electricity continued down his right arm pointed at Rumbler. The bolt struck the unaware tank in the chest sending him hurtling across the EUT. At Archangel’s power rating, few Enhanced could continue the fight. Rumbler was not one of them.

Scimitar did not wait to see if the tank reemerged. His right arm formed in a giant sledgehammer and he swung it at the drone. The first swing knocked the left side engine off the body, sending it screaming into the wall before exploding. The drone lost altitude and crashed but Scimitar wrapped himself in his steel egg before impacting the ground. He emerged from his protective shell wielding the sledgehammer and shattered the smoking drone into pieces with a single blow.

The “Cease Fire” buzzer sounded and the lights in the facility illuminated. Scimitar smiled as his arms shifted back to his flesh and bone arms. He did not hear the door to the observation booth fly ope or see the walking fury rapidly approaching.

“What the hell was that?” screamed Trauma.’

Scimitar put his hands up. “What? This was a demo for the Marines to see what we can do. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Bullshit,” Traum responded, her face glowing redder. “You are training to fight Archangel and Michael.”

Scimitar looked back as Rumbler shifted from a stocky, brown-haired Caucasian body to the more familiar Chinese Enhanced. He stood up slowly and favored his right arm but did not appear to be hurt too badly, nothing a trip to see Preacher could not fix.

“I should have known you were involved in all this, Wei,” Trauma said without hiding her sharp-tongue.

“Have I done something to offend you, Trauma?” Solid Copy asked confused while trying to move his limbs. “I am sorry.”

Trauma looked at Solid Copy and Scimitar. “Whenever the Director needs someone for some bullshit work, you always get involved. Why can’t you use that brain of yours and see what they are doing to us?”

“I am doing my duty,” Solid Copy said in the same calm voice as he always used. As Wei tried to dust himself off, the pain became intense and he stopped. “One of the provisions of my entry visa in to the United States is I obey and follow the orders of the JTF. And if I’m going to find my sister and return my family’s honor, I need to stay in this country.”

Trauma shook her head and tossed up her hands. “Yeah, whatever. If you want to be Thorton’s guinea pig, be my guest. But you.” Trauma poked at her boyfriend. “You are out of your damn mind if you think you can take down Alaina and Michael together.”

“You saw what I can do,” Scimitar said pointing to the hole in the concrete. “If I’m grounded, her lightning can’t hurt me. She’s exposed while flying so she has to come down or our armed drones will shoot her down.”

“And do you think that piece of shit Rumbler is anywhere near the power of that … thing inside Michael? If Vengeance comes out, he’ll tear you apart without batting an eye.”

“I wanted to use Justice,” Solid Copy said still slowly rubbing his shoulder, “but Scott has been absent for several days and my replication powers are not indefinite. I had to use our second option, something I did not enjoy if you must know.”

“Listen to yourselves! Alaina was…is our friend. She trained with us. She is one of us and Michael has no control over his powers.”

Scimitar clenched his muscles, his eye squinting and his teeth grinding tightly in his mouth. He leaned forward. “You need to remember which team we…”

“Excellent work,” shouted Director Thorton as he walked in the EUT surrounded by JTF staff and Marines. “Using the drone’s power against the tank was brilliant.”

Scimitar stepped away from Trauma, his anger and frustration pushed aside to fake a smile for the upper brass. “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you and these good men could see our progress in taking down two dangerous fugitives.”

“Indeed you have, Scimitar,” Thorton said putting his arm around Khaleel. Scimitar looked back but Trauma just frowned before walking away with Solid Copy. She would make sure the medics treated him well. “I just got a call from Secretary Lehrer. He’s working with Harris Industries on a new project and they think you’ll be a great candidate.”

Author’s Note: The next new chapter will be in two weeks.

Matthew 8:5-13

The Faith of the Centurion

⁵ When Jesus had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him, asking for help. ⁶ “Lord,” he said, “my servant lies at home paralyzed, suffering terribly.”

⁷ Jesus said to him, “Shall I come and heal him?”

⁸ The centurion replied, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. ⁹ For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

¹⁰ When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him,“Truly I tell you, I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith. ¹¹ I say to you that many will come from the east and the west, and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven.¹² But the subjects of the kingdom will be thrown outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

¹³ Then Jesus said to the centurion, “Go! Let it be done just as you believed it would.” And his servant was healed at that moment.

As she walked in, a familiar face turned away surrounded by the members of Bravo company and others wearing battle dress uniforms with digital patterns.

“Ah, Trauma, at least you made it,” Gil Thorton said emphasizing the you, “unlike Mister Jurgens.”

“Sir?” Trauma asked confused. She had no idea the Director would be here or all these mundanes. “I received a message an hour ago from Scimitar to meet him here, but he didn’tt say what this was all about.”

Thorton smiled, his white teeth reminding Trauma more of the silly Chesire cat than a formidable warrior. “We want to show these Marines that are augmenting the JTF what they are facing. Scimitar volunteered to run through a new training scenario to help us out.”

“I’m sure he did,” Trauma said looking around at the Marines. She felt a cold chill creep through her. “Is Khaleel here? Can I see him?”

“Yes, but after the show,” Thorton said as he clapped his hands. “Agents, Marines, please follow me up to the observation booth and we’ll get started.”

The sounds of several dozen feet stomping on the metal steps up to the second level of Hinkle echoed in the narrow stairway, but Trauma heard none of it. She allowed all the mundanes to pass her up the stairs as she looked at each one. The new direction of the Bravo company was already troublesome, but the inclusion of military assets was clearly an escalation in the battle against illegal Enhanced. The Enhanced-rights groups, already protesting in several streets around the United States, would only fight that much harder now.

As she walked in the observation booth, Trauma glanced down to see Scimitar stretching in the EUT. He appeared to be in full combat gear which meant this scenario would be without any training equipment and more dangerous. Trauma leaned closer as her brain tried to process this new information..

What are you trying to prove, Khaleel? she asked silently. She was the only one watching Scimitar as Thorton gave the Marines the quick tour of the booth.

The new Hinkle looked somewhat different from the last time she trained in it, which was also before Jury and Justice wrecked most of the building. The official JTF explanation was the need for an updated facility to face the new Enhanced threats and a generous donation by the Jurgen Foundation to fund it without additional taxpayer expense, but according to Net after a some intel-gathering, the U.S. government was furious with Jury and Justice and wanted to imprison them for destroying government property. Only an endorsement letter by Secretary Lehrer to the chairman of the Senate Appropriations Defense Subcommittee kept the Jurgens out of handcuffs. The Jurgens agreed to reimburse the government for the damages and promised never to use the facility again.

“Now, gentlemen,” Thorton said over the general chatter in the observation room, “you’ll see our volunteer, Agent Khaleel Mahmoud, callsign Scimitar, in our Exterior Urban Training simulator. Scimitar is a category three morpher with the ability to transform his upper extremities into metal objects, primarily weapons and shields, and was instrumental in holding off the Enhanced terrorists until JTF reinforcements could arrive and stabilize the situation.”

The battle you wanted to run away from, Trauma thought without turning around. Michael and Jason killed or incapacitated the ringleaders while the other Enhanced mopped up the rest of the gang. By the time the JTF showed up, only a few of the stragglers were remaining. The only thing Thorton did was transport an unconscious Michael to jail.

“The military trained you fine men to face the Caliphate and it’s Enhanced fighters, but here in the United States, we have an even bigger threat. We have more Enhanced than any other nation and our Enhanced are on average rated higher on the Enhanced Damage Capability Category Scale. That means we have to be ready to face that threat with greater force. And that’s why you are here, to be our greater force.”

Several Marines shouted “oorah”and hollered as Thorton just smiled. Trauma wanted to punch him for his Enhanced bigotry, but jail time did not appeal to her. She just turned back around and watched Khaleel give the thumbs up to Thorton.

“Now that we are ready,” the Director said giddy. “We can get this demonstration started.”

Trauma frowned as the lights in the booth darkened, the only illumination coming from the red LEDs strategically placed to reduce glare and distraction from the training personnel inside. The streetlights turned on in the EUT with the other typical outside lights as the roof spotlights dimmed. In a matter of a minute, the EUT transformed into one of the main city blocks in Indianapolis. During the entire time, Scimitar did not move.

“Starting the clocks. Beginning scenario one one x-ray,” said one of the technicians at the control panel. Trauma tried to remember which scenario they planned for her boyfriend, but had no idea what the x-ray variant could be. Scenario eleven was an ambush, a typical event in their line of work, but usually the scenarios had an alpha to echo suffix based on different variations of those scenarios. The x-ray variant was completely new.

“The Caliphate lacks the dangerous types of Enhanced,” Thorton continued, “most of their soldiers are tanks, category ones and a few twos.” He tapped the technician on the shoulder.

“Releasing the swarmbots,” the technician acknowledged.

Several hidden panels opened up on the training floor and remotely piloted robots emerged. These were basic wheeled or tracked robots, similar to the fighting bots shown on T.V., with a steel frame representing the enemy skeleton and powerful pneumatic actuators for the fists. They represented low-level tanks during Enhanced training and usually did not present much of a challenge.

During his first session, the only time he was allowed to train with them, Net immediately reprogrammed the robots to perform sex acts on each other instead of attacking the trainees. The technicians spent weeks wiping the hardware to remove Net’s new code.

When the JTF mundanes in power armor faced them, the results were not so decisive.

Twelve bots attacked Scimitar at different angles, but the morpher spun around and dodged the closest robot’s attack. In the blink of an eye, his right arm changed into a sledgehammer as he rolled back up to his feet. Using his body’s momentum, Scimitar slammed the hamme down, smashing the robot into the floor. Trauma winced at the damage. The technicians would be pissed that he destroyed it. Thorton’s enthusiasm said otherwise.

“Scimitar is a soldier – dedicated, focused, and he takes orders unlike some of the other of his kind. Our trained Enhanced like him, and Trauma over there, are more powerful than any of those religious fanatics.”

Trauma turned as the Director mentioned her name, but another robot slamming against the wall just below the observation booth refocused her attention back on Khaleel. With each body movement another shower of sparks filled the room. Scimitar continued to slash, bash, or impale each robot until he was the only one standing. And he was smiling.

He’s having fun, Trauma said shaking her head. This was a dog and pony show for the Director. He just wanted to demonstrate to the servicemen how his trained Enhanced would do stupid pet tricks on command.

“But we also must be train to face our enemies, foreign and domestic, including Enhanced that have chosen to ignore our laws and put mundane lives at risk. Begin phase two.”

“Phase two, yes sir,” the technician said as he pressed several more buttons. Immediately, Trauma could hear the sound of jet engines starting.

Thorton did not let the loud noise stop his speech. “Some Enhanced have the gift of flight and some of those can even control the most deadly elements known. We must be ready to defeat these enemies and their allies.”

Trauma jumped as a drone roared across the observation window, the glass vibrating violently by the twin engines pushing the drone horizontally while providing vertical thrust and stabilization.

“Fire,” Thorton ordered.

Trauma felt the ionization and narrowed her eyes as the first bolt arced from a port just above the observation glass to the drone. The light filled the entire training facility and several Marines and agents put up an arm to shield their eyes. The bolt hit the drone who redirected it towards Scimitar. The morpher rolled left as the lightning bolt strafed across the ground leaving a smoking charred mark.

Trauma looked at the entranced Thorton who followed his drone as it moved to a new position. The man glowed with self-righteousness.

You’re not training Khaleel to catch criminals, Trauma screamed frantically in her mind, you’re training him to battle Archangel!

“Yeah, I do,” Net replied sharply. His usual aura of nonchalant faded a week ago when he was accused of and interrogated for Michael Larson’s escape, even forcibly mind-scanned by Nightmare, the woman who a minute ago barged in his room, no doubt sensing the waves of anger emanating from him.

Nightmare stomped her foot in frustration. She knew that Net’s current emotional and mental state were a direct result of what the JTF Director commanded her to do to Net. “You were cleared by the Board of Inquiry and released to active duty. Thorton can go screw himself now.”

Net ignored her as he reached around the mentalist from the training class ahead of his to pull out a dozen pair of underwear. “Don’t want to forget these,” he said waving his tighty-whities in Nightmare’s face.

“Dammit, Terrence!” Nightmare shouted. “Don’t let them win. If you run away now, they know that they can do whatever they want to us. They locked up Michael. They ran off Alaina and Mariposa after they saved all these damn mundanes. And now they are making you take some time off.”

“Thorton CAN go fuck himself,” Terrence said thinking about how the JTF Director will find his credit score a missing a few hundred points and his phone number added to several hundred robocall databases, “but I need to do this. Ever since the Battle of Indianapolis, this thing has been gnawing at me, pushing me to do something I just wanted to forget.”

“You were thinking about your mom, what’s so bad about that?” Nightmare asked confused. As a mentalist Net had a highly organized thought pattern that made it easier for her to read his thoughts, but as a computer empathy specialist, his thoughts were quick and often represented by numbers and letters. They did not make any sense to someone not a computer.

“First, stay out of here, babe,” Net said smiling while pointing his head. “Last time the foreplay was a little rough and frankly, I’m not into that freaky kind of shit. Nothing personal.” Nightmare felt a wave of shame and hurt rise up inside. She was not angry at Terrence for the comment, but at Thorton for forcing her to hurt him. “And I’m going to catch a hop out to see my mom, but afterwards, I’m going to fulfill a promise I made and go see my dad.”

“You’re going to Leavenworth?” Nightmare asked shocked. Enhanced did not visit Leavenworth, even for family or friends. Most of the criminals locked up at the old military base had no friends or family that would claim them and no Enhanced wanted a reminder of what waited for them if they illegally used their powers.

“Yes. I made a promise to Judge Thompson when he suggested I go see my dad. At first, I just blew it off thinking the judge just felt guilty, but after they found his wrecked car, I started thinking. He’s the one mundane even hardened Enhanced criminals feared and he gets killed by a damn building falling on him. What a way to go.”

“Why would he feel guilty about you? What does he care if you visit your old man?

Net paused as he remember the worst day of his life. “Because he sentenced my dad to Leavenworth,” he said with a huge sigh as he remembered his dad’s look of sadness as the JTF agents hauled him away in chains. “When my dad asked that I be tested for the JTF, Judge Thompson agreed and always kept an eye on me. He would stop by every few months to make sure mom was doing okay and I was staying out of trouble.”

Nightmare could feel the hurt coming from Net. Like happiness or anger, sadness was very powerful and hard to ignore for a trained mentalist. She smiled hoping her empathy would help. “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, it was. For a few years, I thought he was sleeping with my mom.”

“And I’m guessing they weren’t?” Nightmare asked noticing the lack of anger or disappointment flowing from Net at Judge Thompson.

“No. When I confronted her about it, mom just said my dad and Judge Thompson were old acquaintances. The judge used to be a Indianapolis cop and my dad helped out a lot of the area  departments when it involved cyber crimes. They knew each other back in the day.”

Nightmare nodded in satisfaction. “At least one mundane appreciated all the help the Enhanced have done for this country, even if he was the guy that sent us to Leavenworth.”

“He wasn’t a bad guy, just intense and very private. He told me a little about his days as a cop, but only if I asked. I think chasing bad guys was bad enough for him, but Enhanced criminals really made him lose hope. I’m sure he’s seen many horrible things as a result of our kind.”

“But he’s also seen the best from us. That sacrifice that he was prepared to make for public safety, Enhanced like Minotaur, The Great Wall, Photon, and others did make. At one time, we were all on the same team fighting these scumbags and it didn’t matter if you wore a badge or had permission from some politician. We all want the same thing – to live free without violence from criminals that carry a gun or have superpowers.”

Net stuffed several pair of socks into his bag quickly and picked up his bag. “It doesn’t matter anyways. Judge Thompson is dead and I need to go see my dad to get this off my back. Our little chat last week reminded me that I had better things to do than be here.”

Nightmare turned around as Net walked to the door. If he could read emotions like her, he would feel the nervousness and fear free-flowing everywhere from her body. “Are you sure about this?”

“I gotta do it, Amy. My old man needs to explain why he did it. He needs to tell me why he ruined his family.”

Nightmare knew what she had to do. “Hold on. You’re not going alone. I just need to get my go-bag.”

Net shook his head. “I don’t have time. The shuttle leaves in five minutes.”

“Are you kidding?” laughed Nightmare as she walked to the door. “I would have been long gone by the time you finished packing all your nasty underwear. Lehrer hates me and so does Thorton. That little weasel will be happy to hear that I’m using some of my leave. My bags are always packed. Things can change and you never know when you’ll need to run. I just need to grab it and send the leave-request email.”

“Already sent. And it was approved several days ago with mine,” Net said smiling.