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.

“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.

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.

“You know, I could just fly up ahead and find you two another car,” Alaina said without looking at Maze or Michael behind her. “We are in the middle of nowhere surrounded by junk heaps.” Alaina kicked the nearest car with a loud thump, but stopped before she struck again. In the back seat she noticed a rear-facing car seat with several baby toys strewn recklessly around. Whomever fled from this vehicle had a small child. Both were likely dead and dirt now.

Maze walked by Alaina still staring into the vehicle. “And when you fly over the wrong house or a JTF drone catches your unauthorized flight, what will you do when they descend on us like flies?”

Michael also passed silently around Alaina, his thoughts filled with memories of his own evacuation with his mother when Los Angeles was contaminated by Atomic Power’s destruction.

The red-headed Enhanced pulled her view away from the old car seat to follow Maze. “I thought you were some sort of super-psychic and could see the future. You would know if they see me.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Maze said as he pressed on, refusing to stop or look behind. “People are patterns. I can see those patterns and accurately predict the future, but only if I am involved. If you fly away, I will not be with you to see the new patterns you’ll create.”

“And that’s why you couldn’t predict Los Angeles,” Michael interrupted, but you knew what would happen in Detroit. You were there when Orbital Strike planned the mission.”

Maze sighed but his chest heaving was hidden beneath the thick cloak. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell my dad your powers? You could have prevented the whole thing if you just told him your little secret. He was supposed to be your teammate, Maze, not your enemy, and you screwed him over and the entire time to protect yourself.”

Michael and Alaina stopped and look at each other and stopped but Maze kept walking.

“Dammit, Maze, if I’m going to work with you, I need to know I can trust you. I’ve already thrown away my future and any chance my dad will ever have to redeem himself for your little crusade. Tell me why you didn’t stop them!”

Maze stopped moving but did not turn around. If Alaina and Michael had not been watching him before, he would have disappeared in the rising fog.

“Maze, are you okay?” Michael asked after several second elapsed and the old Enhanced did not respond.

“I wanted to stop him, Archangel, I honestly did, but I couldn’t. There are some powers out there even greater than the Enhanced.”

Alaina looked at Michael, a puzzled look on her face with an arching brow before turning back to Maze. “What do you mean? You can see the future. You can fix the mistakes before they even happen!”

The hooded cloak rocked back and forth in a fervent motion of displeasure. “It’s not what you think. God…fate…destiny, whatever you want to call it, does not care and does not make exceptions. I can glimpse a shadow here or there, but I am only a whisper in the great tragedy of this existence.” Maze looked at Michael as he remembered his vision of the boy destroying the city he loved. “I tried to force my will once on the future and it cost me everything I love. I will not do that again for anyone.”

Maze started walking again. Michael and Alaina raced up before he could disappear.

“That is why I did not stop Orbital Strike from making the biggest mistake of his life. The consequences of my actions would be a lot worse.” Maze suddenly stopped and turned around, his hot breath steaming out of the dark pits around his neck. “I have given up more than you will ever know, Archangel.”

Michael glanced at Alain and then Maze, his survival instincts sharpened by years of living with a violent drunk screaming that only a small spark was needed for a bloody fight to begin his two allies. He would not bet on either side coming out the victor. Both already carried deep scars.

“Everyone just calm down,” Michael said trying to imitate his mom’s first rehab counselor. “We are all on the same team and want the same thing, the truth. Maze, you carry a huge grudge against Alaina’s dad, I get that, but she’s not her father and she’s only trying to understand what happened. You heroes from the old times did a lot of wonderful things together, but your egos and differences need to be put aside. Remember, we’ve had no one but the JTF tell us, repeatedly, that we are only assets to serve the greater good, and expendable ones. All the secretive bullshit might have worked for you in the past, but right now, we need to know that we are your new A team.”

Maze grunted but did not immediately argue with Michael’s logic.

“And Alaina, you got dumped on because you are the daughter of the biggest Enhanced fuck up in history. You got labeled right along with him when everyone found out. I know that feeling all too well, even more now that I know my dad shot Atomic Power. It’s only a matter of time before my benevolent jailer releases that information to the public.”

Alaina unclenched her fists and leaned back, her aggressive posture fading away. “I just want to know what happened and the only person that will tell me the truth is him.”

“Which is why Maze is going to tell us more about his past and where he came from, not because he wants to, but because I am trusting your life to him. If he can’t, then Alaina and I will move on to anywhere but Indianapolis. Are we clear?”

Alaina nodded. Michael looked at Maze, hoping the stubborn, old judge would not force his hand. Michael did not want to leave, but he would not betray Alaina either.

“Agreed,” the words muttered from the cloak.

“We might as well find a place to camp,” Alaina said swiveling her head back and forth. “The fog is getting thicker and I’m sure the JTF drones are watching for groups traveling at night.”

Michael scanned the area trying to find a sign or marker but only several rusty cars and concrete rubble surrounded him. “I just wish we had some idea where we were.”

“Fort Wayne,” Maze replied with confidence.

With a wave of his hand, the viewing monitor on the wall broke apart and reformed with the wall. It was a small display of his power, but none in the room doubted Herr Metall’s mastery of his element and his ability to inflict pain and suffering to any that opposed him.

Two large tanks walked in, one holding Hot Rod, the other leading Screaming Eagle into the center of the room under the bright lights. Althought both wrapped in chains, but they were not needed. Neither prisoner was suicidal enough to try to escape from the lord of the underworld.

“You failed,” Herr Metall said bluntly. “You were sent to retrieve Michael Larson but where is he? Where …”

“Sorry, Mister Metal,” Hot Rod said nervously, his body slightly blurred in the chains. “That science-geek Terrorvolt tried to grab the kid for himself.”

“Silence,” ordered Jury as she waved her hand. Hot Rod and Screaming Eagle screamed in pain as the mentalists activated every nociceptors around the brain, forcing both prisoners to their knees. “You will not use the enemy’s language to address our leader.”

“Of course, Herr Metall,” Screaming Eagle with every effort to move her beak.

“I’m sorry. Please…uh, Bitte?” muttered Hot Rod.

Herr Metall allowed the thought of satisfaction to reach Jury when she released her grip.

“Do not interrupt me again.” The words hung like a warning to everyone in the room as almost everyone took a step backwards deeper in the shadows. “You lost my equipment and you inconvenienced me with replacing my Untermenschen. You also allowed the traitor Terrorvolt to escape.” The room was silent for a few seconds. “You may speak.”

“That report is accurate,” Screaming Eagle said. “The boy, Michael, was far stronger than we anticipated and he had an ally help him escape. Terrorvolt’s betrayal only exacerbated the problem.”

“Yeah…what…what she said,” Hot Rod said stuttering. Screaming Eagle turned sharply at the speedster. If they were not chained, she would have ripped this idiot’s throat out.

“But we failed our primary mission and I am responsible.” Screaming Eagle knew she just doomed herself but she would not be remembered as a coward.

“You stupid bird, you just doomed yourself.” Hot Rod struggled against the chains for a few moments before the nearest guard grabbed him and forced him to be still.

“He is correct, Screaming Eagle. You were the team leader, the honor I bestowed upon you, and you should be punished.” Hot Rod looked over at the Screaming Eagle, disappointed her expression did not change to fear once Herr Metall condemned her. “But our progress in this war strengthens with each ally we secure in Washington. I am feeling generous today, but make no mistake, if you fail again, you will suffer a death worse than anything you witness today.”

“Thank you, Herr Metall,” Screaming Eagle said calmly as she bowed her head. “I will honor the faith you have placed in me and serve the cause until death.”

Hot Rod looked forward again, hiding his anger to the lack of punishment. If he was in charge, things would have been different. And he definitely owed Terrorvolt some pain. Hot Rod stopped daydreaming when he realized the room was silent and every eye he could actually see in the darkened areas of the room were looking at him.

“Thank you?” he said unsure what was going on.

“We will need loyal soldiers and leaders that know their place in our new Reich, but I cannot tolerate the incompetence and laziness that permeates our kind in this new generation. Your Enhanced gifts are possible from the work of my father and the sacrifices of my people, but now too many of you believe it should be wasted in petty theft or other Untermenschen activities that do not further the cause.”

Hot Rod barely listened to the words, focusing on Screaming Eagles sudden grin across her lips as she gazed at him. What the hell was she smiling at?

The speedster in the middle of the room did not get a chance at another thought. With a mental command, a simple thought from a metal elementalist, the chains around Hot Rod suddenly went taut, the links ripping through flesh and cracking bones, slicing him into several bloody pieces. The flamboyant speedster and lover of all things fast tried to shout but was permanently silenced when his head was severed from his shoulders and his windpipe was cut off from his lungs. The pulped body chunks fell sloppily over the floor with blood splattering and bathing the smiling Screaming Eagle and the expressionless tank guards. Hot Rod’s head bounced off the floor twice before rolling off to the side.

“Another thank you, Herr Metall,” Screaming Eagle said as the chains slipped off her body.

“That was not for your benefit, Fraulein, but you are welcome.” Screaming Eagle furrowed her face feathers. “I hope I made myself very clear, assassins.”

Part of the shadow escaped from the wall and moved into the light. As the shadow reformed into a black-cloaked figure, a white-cloaked man also emerged to stand on the other side of the suddenly confused Screaming Eagle.

“Cloak. Dagger. You failed to return my property before, but you will also meet the same fate as this imbecile if you do not fulfill our contract and your brothers will be powerless to protect you from my wrath. Nothing, even our understanding with our friends in Europe is more important than establishing a new Reich that will uplift the Enhanced to their rightful place above the homosapien vermin.”

“We will begin our search in this…Michigan, immediately, Herr Metall,” Cloak said. He focused his power on the thoughts he shared with Dagger.

“I’m sure someone still has an open contract on Orbital Strike,” Dagger added while spinning his blades.

“No, my contract supersedes all others and you will not bounty hunt until we our business is completed. And you would be too late. The target is travelling with an old friend. Maze will hide in plain sight of the JTF. You three will find the Junge and the Fraulein he cares so much about there.”

“Maze?” Screaming Eagle asked as her beak clicked nervously. “Do you wish him eliminated too?”

Herr Metall laughed, his bellowing voice shaking the very air in the room. “If it was that simple, I would have drown that rat myself a long ago for a multitude of crimes against me. Wouldn’t you agree, assassins? No.” Herr Metall paused. “Just find the boy.”

Dagger growled as he remembered his brief encounter with Maze, the fight was not even close. Maze knew every attack he would make and countered them perfectly. Dagger fled before the old hero could impale him.

Our mission has not changed, brother. Dagger nodded.

“As you wish, mein Herr,” Cloak replied. All three turned to the door. Screaming Eagle, still soaked in bloody, continued to smile.

“And Fraulein,” Herr Metall said unexpectedly. Screaming Eagle turned around. “When you see Terrorvolt again, kill him.”

“My pleasure.”

“You know who this is?” Alaina asked surprised. Scott did not take offense. He was not the most studious of agents.

“Of course, I do. He’s the bastard that was my dad’s best friend and partner before he decided to go vigilante and betray him. Am I close, Maze?”

With a push of a button, the Nanoblade retracted back into the hilt before Maze slid it back in the holster hidden on his belt. “No, I think you got most of it right.”

“And you’re running with him now?” Justice asked as he stared disbelieving at his former girlfriend.

“But you did get one thing wrong,” interrupted Maze. “I was killing scumbags before I even met Justice and continued while we worked together. He understood that some criminals were incapable of rehabilitation and just needed to be planted in the ground.”

“I doubt my dad was okay with you behaving as an executioner.”

“Drones, black-ops, Enhanced assassins, the people in charge have been working outside the law long before I showed up. At first Judge didn’t like it, but then I showed him where things were heading and he experienced some it himself. But your mom had other ideas.”

Justice laughed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but she’s right.”

“Son, I’ve lived in this world far longer than I should rightly expect to, but there are some memories that will never leave a man, no matter how old he lives. Some people are just evil creatures that will do ungodly things to others in the name of science, religion, government, take your pick. If you try to save everyone, you will only get more innocent people killed.”

“Easy to say when you’re holding the gun,” Justice responded.

I didn’t always, Maze thought as he felt the invisible straps around his wrists. He could almost hear the sounds of the daily bombings overhead and the plaster landing on his forehead.

“And he came here with Michael,” Alaina said helping up the fugitive and hugging him. “But I’m going to help them, Scott. I’m going to make sure the JTF never gets a chance to use him against our kind. It will never stop once the genie is let out of the bottle.”

Justice shook his head in disbelief. “Even with all the shit I did, it doesn’t even come close to the carnage these two have and will do. You’re out of your mind, Archangel.”

Justice did not wait for a response. He turned his back to the trio and ran off towards the black smoke.

* * *

“Leave her alone!” screamed Trauma as she pushed one of the Bravo team agents away. She stepped over the unconscious Valkyrie laying on the ground to prevent the agent from hitting the handcuffed prisoner again. Scimitar, standing next to her, formed a shield around Trauma’s back to prevent any hits from behind.

“Dammit, Kim. Stop this or you’ll get us both suspended or worse!” Scimitar said scowling at his girlfriend

Trauma ignored him. “Director Thorton, you will order your men to step back or those men back at the wreckage can forget any help from me. And unless Preacher suddenly became a field agent, you don’t have another Enhanced medic in the area.”

Thorton turned red with anger as his subordinate threatened the life of his men. “Listen here you stupid girl, you will back down and do what you are fucking told! Do you understand me? Or I’ll arrest you so fast your head will spin. You’ll…”

“Please do,” Trauma responded cutting him off. “Let’s go to court and my lawyer will be happy to subpoena the video footage from your body cams.” Trauma pointed to the camera of the agent she just pushed away. “I’m sure the American people will love to watch Federal agents beating the shit out of suspects. The all-day news shows will personally thank you for the ratings.”

“Stop!” growled an inhuman voice from the shadows. The deep bass of the man’s and the sound of metal vibrating reverberated throughout the chamber. The image of Trauma pointing to the camera froze on the large flat screen monitor of the wall.

“That one will interfere with our plans, Herr Metall,” the blond beauty said stepping into the light flooding the middle of the room. Jury knew all eyes were on here, some in lustful fantasies, others afraid of her connection to the powerful Enhanced criminal leader, Herr Metall, sitting in the shadows along the wall with a perfect view of the screen. Jury fed from both strong emotions.

“She is but an insignificant insect. The Fräulein will either join the cause or be swept away with the others that oppose me.”

“As you wish, Herr Metall,” Jury acknowledged with a bow of her head, her hair whipping down across her exposed cleavage and back over her shoulders for the entertainment of her admirers. “But this other one, I believe he might be useful.” As she spoke, the image darkened except for the outline of Trauma’s protector, his round shields surrounding the pair but his face looking directly at the camera.

“The metal shifter?” the voice from the shadows asked.

Jury nodded again. “Yes. He mentally meets the criteria our team is looking for and we believe his physical abilities will make his evolution blend well with our other projects.” Although Herr Metall did not move, Jury knew her speech was unnecessary and mostly for show. Herr Metall favored any Enhanced with metal abilities, believing they were from his bloodline, his children, and Khaleel Mahmoud would be an excellent candidate for the project. He did not associate with the other members of the team except Trauma and he followed orders to the letter. The girl would be extra security to prevent any non-compliant behavior from the test subject.

“You may proceed as planned,” Herr Metall responded.

“Danke, Herr Metall,” Jury said bowing again and stepping out of the light and returning next to the shadows.

But now he had a job to do. Michael was fast, faster than most speedsters in the JTF, but he was also inexperienced and unable or unwilling to use his other powers at the same time. Michael had super strength as Justice also learned last year when he broke his hand, but Michael avoided obstacles, running around them, and not through them, like Justice did. Every time Justice bulldozed straight through a tree, fence, or even an abandoned structure, well, Justice hoped it was vacant, he closed the gap even more and made the capture even more inevitable. Michael was also unfamiliar with the terrain and did not stray too far away from the Grayson home. Justice used to run these woods when he and Alaina were kids and remembered them fondly.

“Stop running, Michael,” he shouted as hard as he could. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

Michael turned around to look at Justice and suddenly stopped. The world in front of him warped, stretching like a giant water droplet, before snapping back to the center and reforming with the Enhanced fugitive standing in the middle and now facing him. In the blink of an eye, Justice stopped and kept his distance.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Michael said in an almost robotic voice. Michael’s eyes appeared to almost look through him.

At first, Justice was not sure that voice actually came from his former rival. Michael was the class clown and, at first, a joke to think he belonged in the JTF, but he proved to be a formidable soldier. He was creative in the use of his powers, but that made him dangerous now. But it was the monster inside him, the neurological disorder that took over the brain’s rational functions that frightened Justice the most and pushed him to send the fugitive back to jail. His former rival needed help to keep everyone safe. He knew the destruction the creature Vengeance was capable of causing. The city of Indianapolis still bore the scars of his rampage six months ago. Now that Alaina was involved, it was even more important for Michael to be locked away.

“Just come back with me and I’ll use my contacts to make sure Alaina doesn’t get charged.”

Michael laughed, his voice deep and echoing. “I’m not going back, Justice. They have no intention of helping me. They want to use me as a weapon. No, they want to use Vengeance as a weapon. They think they can control his rage and unleash it on the Enhanced that fight back here and in Europe.”

Justice raised his arms with open palms in disbelief. “Against the Caliphate? That’s illegal. They promised us you were being treated by the best Enhanced neurologists in the country. They promised…”

“They are trying to condition me, Scott,” Michael shouted. He was angry, Justice noted, angry and afraid. That made him even more dangerous and the field around them rumbled sharply with his rage.

“This is not what Alaina would want,” Justice countered. “I’ll call my dad. I’ll call Judge and he’ll make sure you are taken care of. He looks after our own, Michael, and he’ll make sure they don’t get what they want.”

“You don’t get it. Everyone has their own ideas on the perfect solution to the Enhanced problem, Judge and Jury included. I will not be a pawn or a puppet for either side. Please, this wasn’t Alaina’s fault. I came here on my own. Don’t let them hurt her.”

Justice stepped forward as he stretched out a hand pleadingly. “You can’t escape and you’ll just make it worse for yourself and Alaina.”

“Goodbye, Scott,” Michael said as turned and formed a portal. Justice could not see where the exit was located. If Michael and Vengeance stepped through the wormhole, he would never find them again.

Michael stepped in the portal, but felt an iron grip around his wrist before he could enter completely.

“Sorry, bud, but I’m doing this for your own good.”

Michael spun around and the fear drained from his face, replaced only with rage. He swung hard with a left hook, but Justice speed dodged it and countered. Scott punched twice to the body and followed with an elbow strike to the cheek, forcing Michael to retreat back.

“While you’ve been sitting in jail, I’ve been training.” Justice thought of Amira. She focused him on training and not partying or chasing the cameras. He would never let those two assassins, or anyone, even the JTF, hurt her again. “My overconfidence beat me last time, but I won’t make that mistake twice. You’re going to have to fight or let me escort you back to the bird. I would prefer the peaceful way”

“You’re not as dumb as you look then” Michael said as he tried to clear his vision, “but my answer has not changed.” In a redshift blur, Michael charged Justice and smashed his shoulder into the poster boy for the JTF.

The larger Enhanced went airborne. Justice’s instincts took over as he spun his body to land on his feet. His size 13 boots dug deep holes in the soft forest dirt to stop his momentum and provided a platform to hurl himself back at the fugitive. Justice raised his fist to strike, but he instead hooked his arm under Michael’s armpit and flipped him over his hip. Michael tried to compensate by shifting his mass to his legs to prevent the throw, but Justice was too fast. The increased mass only whipped Michael’s legs around faster.

Michael landed hard, the extra mass in his body forcing the air from his lungs. Justice did not hesitate as he rotated his body and locked his powerful legs around Michael’s neck and forcing Michael into an armbar.

“I might not be able to punch you, but I will drag your unconscious butt back to the Osprey if I have to,” Justice said in short breaths. Michael was strong, and getting stronger as he got angrier, and it was taking all his strength to hold him down. Justice was certain that Michael’s eyes were also starting to glow.

The noise of a weapon unsheathing forced Justice’s attention away from Michael. He did not hear the pair approach, but once he noticed Alaina, electricity crackling down her body, with the large man completely cloaked and holding a large bladed weapon now pointed at his neck, Justice guessed they took the scenic route and flew in from the Grayson home.

“Enough of that, son,” said the cloaked man. “The boy is coming with us.”

Like everyone else, Scimitar leaned towards one of the external camera monitors as it swiveled forward and tracked dust cloud from Justice and Solid Copy. The aircraft was in a gradual right turn to bleed off speed so the task of looking at the monitors was a littler more difficult than usual. He noted mentally that an elementalist Enhanced must have created that barrier of ice. Khaleel could barely make out Solid Copy’s unmoving body in one of the other camera images at the base of the ice wall.

“There,” said Gil Thorton standing next to Scimitar and pointing to the screen they shared. “That woman, that’s Valkyrie. She did it.”

“We’ll arrest her, sir,” Scimitar said nodding towards the Director. Thorton did not see him or ignored him as the Bravo commander leaned over to one of the aircraft crewmembers, a short, brown-haired mundane that Khaleel had passed a few times in the halls.

“Target that woman and open fire. Don’t stop firing until she’s down or we’re out of bullets,” Thorton commanded calmly. The aircrew gunner’s eyes opened as he realized what he was just told to do.

“Sir?” the aircrew gunner asked.

“Are you hard of hearing, mister?” The Director got louder with each word. “She just attacked one of our agents to protect a fleeing felon. She’s a dangerous criminal and must be neutralized. Fire!”

“Yes, sir,” the gunner said as he flipped pushed the joystick to turn the gun camera around. Once Valkyrie was in the crosshairs, the gunner pushed a button locking her in and the gatling gun starting firing. Khaleel could feel weapon’s electric motor pulsating underneath his feet.

“She has a another shield up. Keep firing!” The Director did not take his eyes off the gunner’s camera as the rounds chipped away the hastily constructed ice shield.

“No!” screamed Trauma as she charged up from the back of the Osprey. Khaleel grabbed his girlfriend, the woman of his dreams, and spun his body between her and the Director. “Please, Khaleel, that’s Alaina’s family down there. Valkyrie is her aunt.” Khaleel could see the tears forming in Trauma’s eyes, but they had a job to do.

“Don’t,” Scimitar warned as he looked directly at Trauma. “There is nothing we can do for them. They all made their own…”

The aircraft suddenly darkened and violently rocked back and forth. Bolts of electricity snaked down the metal frame along the left side. There was only one person who could do that. When the left engine failed and the aircraft lurched over, Scimitar transformed his left arm into a clamp and snapped on the support frame. Before he could wrap his hand under Trauma, she tumbled helplessly out of reach to the back of the doomed Osprey.

* * *

Khaleel groaned as he moved a piece of the broken aircraft off his legs. He was sore and probably had several deep laceration but it was nothing his Enhanced body could not repair in a few minutes. Since joining the JTF, his transformation powers and his recovery time had strengthened. Through the smoke, he could make out the silhouettes of power armor moving around him. The members of Bravo company and Thorton wore protected in their armor, but Scimitar could see one of the Bravo members, the mundane medic, working on two people, likely the pilots. He looked around several times but he still could not find Trauma.

“Trauma!” he yelled in various directions. “Kim! Talk to me, where are you?” Only the moans of the injured and the sounds of the JTF armor responded. “Director Thorton?”

“I’m here,” said the Director nearby. Through the hazy smoke from the nearby grass fires, the Director was kneeling and tossing pieces of the aircraft to the side looking for something. When he stood up, Director Thorton was holding his M4 in the ready position. From his vest, he pulled out a glowing-green magazine of Equalizers and slammed it in the rifle. “Glad you made it.”

“Have you seen Trauma?”

Thorton shook his head. “No, and right now we need to move. Stay here and tell Trauma to help the injured.”

Khaleel started to worry and did not even watch Thorton as he led the uninjured members of Bravo through the smoke towards the Grayson home.

“Kim, dammit, answer me. Where are you?” Scimitar screamed. The wreckage was spread out and she could be anywhere, hurt or worse. “Trauma!”

A soft moan and the smallest movement of debris caught Sciimitar’s attention. He raced to the location and found Kim barely visible under the debris. She was pinned under a large piece of the tail assembly.

“Hang on, baby,” Khaleel said leaning down to wipe the hair from Kim’s face and reassure her and himself. Kim moaned as she looked at him. He knew she was in serious pain.

His arms were as strong as any tank, but his lower body was the same as any other non-tank. He would never be as strong or fast as Justice, as powerful as Archangel, or even as multitalented as Trauma, and it bothered him. He might be the Enhanced team leader, but the mundances do not care. They were only interested in the heroes with the largest EDCCS rankings.

Scimitar tried to push the debris off Trauma, but it was too heavy and barely moved. He willed his arms into razor-thin blades and forced them along Trauma’s body on the ground. The arms transformed again into a giant scissor jack and the tail section fell to the side and off Trauma. Khaleel quickly changed his arms back to flesh as he kneeled down.

“I’m not going to lie,” he said looking up and down his girlfriend, “you’re still hot but your body look like shit.”

Kim screamed and fell back to ground as she tried sit up, but the pain was too much. “Damn, that hurts.”

“Keep still.” Scimitar said as he cradled her neck.

“Screw that,” Trauma answered as she slowly moved her weakened arms to her legs. She closed her eyes and focused her power, tapping whatever reserves she had stored to force the healing process. She clenched her teeth as her nervous system returned to her feet and legs and the pain of her crushed limbs surged through her body.

“You might be a healer, but take slow down. You don’t have to rush.”

“Yes, I do, Khaleel. We need to calm the situation down before this gets any worse.”

“We just got shot down, Kim. It can’t get much worse than that.”

Trauma flexed her newly repaired arms and legs before slowly standing up. “Yes, it can. These JTF guys are going to want some payback.”

“Good. I’ll kill that bitch myself for hurting you.”

“Khaleel! She is only trying to protect her family. I’m sure Wei is fine, but we need to go find him and stop the JTF from doing something to Valkyrie. Let’s go.” Before he could protest, Trauma ran after Bravo company.

“I’m not talking about Valkyrie,” Scimitar said before following.