by H. L. Burke
I can’t obsess about this. It’ll just drive me crazy, and I promised Fade I would trust the team. I have a good team. They can handle this. They’ll let me know when they know something.
Prism wandered into the break room kitchen and put in a pod of decaf coffee, this time the cinnamon dulce variety. She sat at the table to listen to it hiss and gurgle as it started to brew.
The door opened, and Wildfyre strode in. While he still wore his usual black, flame retardant shirt and pants, he’d gone without his red jacket today.
“I ran into Tanvi upstairs,” he said. “She said you gave her the assignment of looking into the Aiden thing.”
Prism nodded. “She’s good at that sort of project, and Fade’s right. I’m too close to the matter to see straight.”
“I guess. She’ll keep us all informed, though?” He opened the door where the single-serve coffee pods were kept and started browsing them. “I’ll admit, I want to find out what’s going on, too.”
“We’ll keep the team apprised.” Prism claimed her coffee. “Are you looking for anything in particular in there?”
“Something not coffee or black tea. Ah!” He pulled out a pale green pod. “Peppermint tea should do.”
“I’m glad you like that. I don’t, but the variety packs I buy always have at least one in there. Because I hate to just throw them out, I’ve gathered quite a collection of the dang things.”
He slipped the pod into place and refilled the reservoir.
Once he got his tea, they sat in silence for a little while, Prism sipping coffee, Wildfyre staring off into space.
Finally Prism cleared her throat. “You’ve been with us for a few months now, and that whole time you’ve been pretty much confined to HQ except for training.”
Wildfyre inhaled the steam rising off his drink. “I’m on probation, after all.”
“True but between your anklet and your good behavior so far, you deserve a little freedom. Maybe a chance to visit your family?” she said. “I know your father’s death was a motivating factor in your decision to leave the villain life, but from what I can tell, you haven’t made any attempt to get in contact with the rest of your family. I’m not sure DOSA would issue you a phone, but I could arrange a video call at the very least.”
His gaze dropped to the floor. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not sure I’m ready yet.”
Prism tapped her fingers against her coffee mug. It wasn’t doing much to help her wake up this morning, and with the lack of sleep the night before, she could’ve used the real deal. Maybe this far along a little caffeine wouldn’t hurt ... She pushed aside the thought and brushed her hand across her belly in apology. Motherhood was about sacrifice, right?
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, eyeing Wildfyre.
“I just don’t know how they’d deal with me popping up after years without contact, having missed my father’s death and funeral.” The wrinkles around his eyes deepened. “I have a lot to make up for. I want to prove that I can stick with this, that I can be a person they aren’t ashamed to be related to, before I go home.”
“I don’t know your family, but I know family in general,” Prism soothed. “You made mistakes, sure, but familial love shouldn’t be earned or deserved. It should just be.”
“I guess. I want to deserve it, though.” He stood up from the table. “So, about that training with me you agreed to?”
“I know I said I would, but now I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.” She stood. “I can’t even touch my toes. What sort of a challenge am I going to be to you?”
“I actually thought about that. I asked Keeper to help me set something up in the gym that might suit.” He motioned towards the door. “At least humor me and look it over.”
They made their way to the gym. A large section of it had been refitted with a dark, flame proof paneling so that Wildfyre could occasionally practice inside as well. They’d also disabled the fire alarms and sprinkler systems in that area—after the first of his indoor training session had ended with everyone soaking wet.
In the middle of the gym, Keeper waited, Yui sprawled across his shoulders. He stepped aside to reveal a watermelon sitting on top of a barstool.
Prism frowned. “What’s this for?”
“I was trying to think of exercises I could do with the team that didn’t involve me tossing fire in their general direction,” Wildfyre explained. “I brainstormed a little with Keeper. He suggested that maybe I should do exercises where I have to hit something that isn’t the team, and the team member can provide defensive obstacles. The watermelon was the best target I could find on short notice.”
“Admittedly, I’m a wee bit curious what happens if we torch it.” Keeper smiled. “Never seen one of these explode before, but that’s my guess.”
Prism wagged a finger at him. “If it does, I’m not mopping up.”
“So, what do you think?” Wildfyre asked.
“I guess it could simulate a scenario where one of us has to protect a target—or where you have to take one down against counterfire,” Prism decided. “It’ll do. I am going to ask for one advantage that I think is fair considering I have to protect a stationary target. You leave the room while I reposition it slightly so that you don’t know where it’s standing.”
Wildfyre’s brow furrowed then understanding crossed his face. “And you’ll use your projection to obscure its true location. Makes sense.” He stepped out. “Whistle when you’re ready.”
Prism instructed Keeper to move the watermelon to the otherside of the gym. She then focused on it, causing it to disappear from its true location and appear several yards away.
“Ready,” she shouted.
Wildfyre clicked his tongue as he entered the room. “That wasn’t a whistle. So, shall we start?”
“Yep.”
He faced the watermelon. “Okay, I can assume that really isn’t it—though maybe that’s the trick and it is it.” He extended his hand and a burst of fire ripped through the watermelon’s projection. In response Prism jerked the image to another section of the gym.
Wildfyre laughed and let off a series of quick bursts in multiple directions. Prism’s mouth wrinkled as one shot a foot or two to the right of its intended target. Only a matter of time until he found it at this rate. Well, she had more than one skill.
As he aimed another shot, she dropped the projection and channeled her powers into a burst of light.
He staggered back, blinking dumbly. “Ugh, hate that.”
She put up the projection before his vision could recover. This time he angled away from her, keeping his back to her. She tried to move around him, but he turned with her.
“Not going to fall for that twice,” he said.
She glanced back at Keeper who was sitting on a bench at the far end of the gym, stroking Yui.
Even Fade had a hard time sparring against Wildfyre. What am I going to do? He can throw fire, and I can only bend light ... of course, fire produces light.
A thought crossed her mind. She’d once used her ability to manipulate lightning thrown by another sable. Could she do the same thing with fire?
She tensed, waiting as Wildfyre cocked back his arm, a great ball of fire swirling at his fingertips.
He let loose. She threw her hands towards him, sending a wave of light crashing into his fireball. The ball burst and splashed back towards Wildfyre. The fire dissipated harmlessly around the fireproof sable.
“What the heck?” He spun to face her. “Try that again.” He pushed both palms forward, and a wall of flame rushed towards her. She responded with her own blast of light. Again the fire broke apart and moved backwards. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Neither did I.” She coughed on the smoke-tainted air. “I’ve never faced a fire-powered sable before, though.”
“It’s a good move. I mean, I’m immune to fire, so against me, it’s primarily defensive, but if you could use against someone who wasn’t un-burnable
, it could do some damage.”
“Or I could redirect fire from other sources, like explosions and structure fires.” Her heart beat a little faster. “Dang, I didn’t expect to discover a new ability this late in my career.” She grinned. “Throw another at me!”
Wildfyre wound up like a pitcher on the mound.
“Hey, Pris, sorry to interrupt but—Yikes!” Tanvi entered the room just as the blast of heat and flame exploded from Wildfyre. Surprised, he angled towards her, sending the fire in her directions. She threw her hands in front of her face.
“Watch out!” Prism punched the air. A missile of light slammed into the wall of fire. The flames shot up and out, splashing around Tanvi but missing her completely.
Wide-eyed, Tanvi uncurled from her defensive position. “What the crap, Wildfyre?”
“Sorry! Sorry!” He held up his hands. “We were just practicing.”
“Also, Pris, what was that?” Tanvi’s eyebrows melted together. “Did you just redirect his fire attack?”
“Apparently I can do that.” Prism laughed. “Cool, huh?”
“No. Hot. Way too hot.” Tanvi pulled her phone out of the hip pocket of her yoga pants. “I ran into a bit of a dead end with the research.”
Prism’s heart sank followed quickly by frustration. “But you just started. Maybe we need to redirect and try something—”
“No, you don’t understand.” Tanvi passed Prism the phone. “The dead end is what I found. It’s the whole reason I’m here.”
Prism’s brow furrowed. “Okay,” she said slowly.
“The lab Aiden’s body was supposedly donated to doesn’t exist. I mean, they have an online presence—”
Prism peered at the device. A basic website with a general sciency missions statement and very little else took up the screen.
“But it doesn’t lead anywhere,” Tanvi continued “No physical locations. No way to get in contact with an actual person. I tried the phone number you called after Aiden’s death, but it’s been disconnected. Everything is set up to look real on the surface, but it takes very little probing to scratch down to basically nothing.” Her mouth crinkled. “My guess, it’s some sort of front. I looked into who owns the domain registries and who the phone number used to belong to, and it sent me running around to three different companies with similar non-existent existences. The one that pops up the most is an Amun-Ra Incorporated, but they don’t seem to have any physical holdings either.”
“So we’re looking at fronts or shell companies.” Prism’s stomach roiled. This sort of thing was above her team’s skill level. “We need someone who can get warrants to search deeper—or as much as I hate to say it, a hacker. I don’t know any hackers.”
“Yes, you do, lass.”
Prism turned to face Keeper who approached, petting Yui.
“Remember the guy who helped you when you were investigating the Cosmic/Mymic case? Bugs aren’t his only skillset.”
Prism wrinkled her nose. “Oh great—not him.”
Chapter Ten
“Thanks for coming with me, especially after—well, I did promise to stay away from this.” Prism glanced at Fade as they parked their car.
“You promised to stay away from anything dangerous,” Fade pointed out. “The biggest risk from Thorax is that he’ll skeeve you out. Wouldn’t make you face the little troll on your own.” He got out and did a slow turn to take in the abandoned strip mall. “I can’t decide if this is an upgrade or a downgrade from his last ‘safe house.’ Is he living in the Subway or at the back of that nail salon?”
“Neither.” Prism smirked. “Just wait and see.”
Towards the end of the line of small shops and businesses sat a storefront with a sign reading, “Not Just Four Legs.” Paintings of smiling spiders, centipedes, and crickets decorated the windows.
Fade paused with his hands in his jacket pockets. “Okay, this makes sense. Is there a pass code this time?”
“Of course, there is,” Prism replied. “Keeper hooked me up. Come on.”
The bell jangled as they walked into the store. Glass tanks filled the shelves, most lit with fluorescent lights, some having moss covered branches inside, others soil and rocks. Prism stopped at a display of massive Goliath beetles.
“Yeah, I can see how Cody would be right at home here.” Fade tapped on the nearest cage, dislodging a centipede from the glass.
“Don’t do that!” They spun to see a little old woman with pop bottle-glasses coming out of the back.
Fade shoved his hands into his pockets. “Sorry.”
“We are looking for a trilobite beetle,” Prism said.
The woman’s lips pursed. “Of course you are.” She walked to the door she’d just come out of, stuck her head through, and shouted in an ear-shattering voice, “Cody, you didn’t tell me you were having friends over. You better have cleaned up back there.”
“Mom!” an incensed male voice shot back. “How many times do I have to tell you not to shout at me from public areas? I’m trying to keep a low profile here!”
“Public areas? We haven’t had a customer all week. What about that advertising you said you were going to do for me? Why don’t we have more customers, Cody?” she continued to rant.
Fade waved Prism forward, and they slipped around Cody’s mom. In the backroom, behind more tanks of insects and a few file cabinets, was a desk with multiple monitors in front of which sat a greasy looking fellow in his early thirties. He winced when Fade and Prism entered.
“You two again?” he growled. “You know that mess you got me involved in last time made me have to move safehouses. Do you know how hard it is to find off the grid rentals with decent wifi?”
“This place seems like a bit of an upgrade from the Bubble Tea place. More your style.” Prism gave him her best smile.
“It would be if it wasn’t for her,” Cody grunted.
“I heard that! Don’t you go complaining about your life. Not when you aren’t paying a cent for room and board.”
He shoved back his chair and stomped to the doorway. “No, but I set up multiple ad campaigns and got you started as an online seller. We’ve done more web orders this month than you had for in person sales in a year, and that’s me! All me! I’ve more than earned my keep, so get off my back.” He slammed the door shut in her face then walked over to the nearest computer and hit a button. A moment later The Magic Flute blared from the speakers.
Fade chuckled. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for an opera fan.”
“I’m cultured,” Cody mumbled, spinning to face his screens again. “Besides, the bugs like it.”
“Keeper thought you could help us with an investigation we’ve hit a dead end on,” Prism said.
“I don’t squeal on villains. Well, not unless there’s an immediate threat to civilian lives. I’m not a monster, after all.” He pulled up a Sudoku site and started to fill in numbers.
“You helped us with the Cosmic problem,” Prism pointed out.
“Point A, as a member of DOSA, Cosmic was technically not a villain. Point B, the stuff she’d done and looked poised to do qualified her for the ‘threat to civilians’ exception.” He stopped and tilted his head at the screen.
“Third box, middle, three,” Prism said.
“I was just taking a breather,” he said quickly. “I’m assuming if there was a threat to life, you would’ve mentioned it already, so I can’t help you.”
“There might be.” Honestly, though, that wasn’t her concern here. She almost didn’t care about stopping this team. She’d let them all get away if it meant getting Aiden back.
Have I really lost that much focus?
“We’re looking into the villain team that recently tried to blow up a DOSA gathering,” Fade put in.
“Cry me a river. You DOSA sables should know your work puts a target on your backs. You’re fair game as far as the villains are concerned, and I don’t take sides.” Cody turned up his music. “Look, I like you two, I mean, as
much as I can like any DOSA cronies. Also, I owe Keeper a solid, but you’re going to have to do better than that if you want—”
“My brother was one of the team members who attacked the banquet hall,” Prism burst out.
Cody’s chair squeaked as he rotated to face them again. “Your dead brother?”
Prism nodded, her teeth clamping down on her lower lip.
“Interesting.” He tapped the arm of his chair. “I’ll admit, I’m intrigued. You thinking the guy faked his death? Maybe went into hiding?”
“No, we’re pretty sure he actually died.” Prism pushed aside memories of the attack that had cost Aiden his life.
“Shapeshifter?” Cody pressed.
“We considered that, but whoever it is also exhibits a more extreme version of Aiden’s power set,” Fade said. “His was pretty rare. The chance of someone having his powers but also the ability to shift, not particularly likely.”
“Also, at least one other member of this villain team is also reportedly dead,” Prism added. “If it were just Aiden, maybe one of those other solutions would make sense, but two dead guys on the same team?”
“Are you thinking some sort of reanimation? Like someone robbed your brother’s grave and brought him back to life Frankenstien style?”
“He was never buried. His body was donated to science. Tanvi, that’s Forte, researched it for me. She found the name of a front company, but that’s where our trail goes cold.”
Cody sat up straighter in his chair, eyes aglow. “You’re dealing with Brink.”
Prism’s chest tightened. She knew that name.
Fade placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “Professor Brink? The evil super genius behind the power-swapping glove Cosmic used in her Mymic guise?”
“Rez tech was his white whale,” Cody explained. “The guy spent almost a decade on it, never quite getting there, before DOSA pulled the plug. Still, the rumor was he continued to work on it, off the books, right up until his stroke.”
“It can’t be Brink, though,” Prism protested. “We saw him back when we were dealing with the Cosmic incident. He was in no shape to plot anything.”
