"Bored," Percy sighed, laying back across the arm of the reclining chair. He was so bored he could hardly focus on anything. Five hours, he had been awake for five hours and nothing was happening.
"Bored," came the tired response of his newest friend, who was stretched out on the couch. Listless eyes staring blankly at the television, "so bored."
Percy rolled his head around so he could look at Jason. They should go do something, but what? What was there really left to do? Fight monsters; they had done that. Save the world; done that multiple times. Watch television; it was amazing how quickly that becomes unappealing. What else was there for two highly trained demigods to do?
"Bored," Percy sighed again, his eyes returning to the ceiling as his head fell back on the arm. "So bored," he fought not to yawn. He was bored, not tired.
"So bored," Jason agreed with a heavy sigh.
The telephone rang on the table between them. "Mom," they yelled, "Phone!" Neither made a move to answer.
"Percy, can you get that," his mother yelled from the kitchen. "I'm in the middle of something."
Percy leaned forward to reach the phone, stretching to wrap his fingers around the cordless on the coffee table. He fell back in the recliner, accepting the call, and listened to the voice on the other end. He sat silently, his eyes glazed over from the boredom only half listening to the drone of a telemarketer. A minute later, when Percy still had not responded, the woman calling hung up.
Percy dropped the cordless on the floor, sitting up and spinning around the chair to firmly plant his feet on the floor. Lacing his fingers together, he prepared his story. "That was headquarters," he started. "They want me to go to Camp at once, and meet up with a trainer named Chiron. He'll have all the details. All I have to do is get there."
Jason did not respond immediately. His mind processing what Percy had said to him, determining what was happening based on those words. Suddenly he jumped up off the couch, "Gods," he cried out, turning wide excited eyes to Percy. "I think I see the pattern. Sounds like trouble."
Percy nodded, "It always is."
"You're going to need plenty of advice on this one." Jason came to his feet, pacing around the coffee table. "First bit, we're going to need backup. I suggest that blond with the storm in her eyes."
Percy turned to face him, "What for?"
"She's good, we'll need her for the permanent record," Jason responded. "Then we'll have to get out of Manhattan for a few days, clear the air. Blows my whole week," Percy raised his brow in question. "Naturally I'll have to go with you, we'll have to be armed, to the teeth."
"Why not?" Percy came to his feet, leading the charge from the apartment. "If a thing as righteous as this is worth doing, it's worth doing right." He wrapped his hand around the knob, ready to throw open the door.
"Percy," his mother appeared in the kitchen door, wiping her hands dry with a towel. "Where are you going?" Percy did not pause, Jason hot on his heels, they never broke pace.
"Call Dr. Chase, have him call Annabeth. Tell him to tell her," Percy shouted over his shoulder exiting the apartment, passing his step-father in the hall.
"Tell who what," Paul asked, turning to watch the boys boarding the elevator. "Sally, what are they doing?"
"Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient, come anyway. And don't blink!"
"The game is on!" Jason shouted in continuation as the doors to the elevator closed behind them.
"Ground floor," Percy commanded. "We'll have to gather the supplies."
"Can we find them in Manhattan?"
"That's the problem with you Romans," Percy scoffed, watching the floors pass on the digital screen in the elevator. "No faith in the Greek hero's culture."
In the lobby they crossed paths with a child of Nike. The boy looked at them curiously, most likely surprised that out of all the apartment buildings in Manhattan he happened to live in the same one as Percy Jackson and/or Jason Grace. Percy saw the boy and grabbed him in a head lock, dragging him to a janitor's closet.
"I feel like you need the facts." Percy whispered quickly, still holding the boy in the head lock. "The man at my side is a friend, not some stranger I picked up in the elevator. He's a foreigner, Roman I think, but this man is very important to me."
The boy looked at Jason, then tried to look back at Percy. "I know," he gasped. He had been at camp with both of them over the summer.
"We're your friends," Jason smiled leaning in. "We're not like the others."
"Others?" the boy asked, confused. "What others?"
"I said you need the facts," Percy shouted, shooting a very displeased look at his advisor. "We're on a very ominous mission, filled with vibrant tones of excessive personal danger."
"It always is," the boy gasped. "We're demigods. It's in our job descriptions."
Percy glared down at the boy, perhaps this boy was not a friend. Perhaps he was a spy, part of the excessive dangers. The boy could not be trusted, and he already knew too much.
"The game is on," Percy shouted suddenly, dropping the son of Nike and throwing the door open, pulling Jason out behind him.
"We couldn't trust him," Percy explained rushing across the lobby and out onto the street. "He would report this to some kind of outback Olympian law enforcement agency. Our quest must be kept on the down low. If too many people know it will jeopardize the integrity of our situation."
"We haven't got the quest yet," Percy turned a suspicious eye on Jason.
"Getting the quest might be the most defining moment of the year," Percy commented. "The game has started, and we are without backup."
"They called our back up," Jason spoke seriously, his brow furrowing as part of the expression. "The message was clear."
"Maybe too clear," Percy narrowed his eyes, stroking his chin like a cliché villain from the classic movies. "She might take it for a warning, that we've been taken. She might go on without us."
"Outback Olympic law enforcement," Jason confirmed Percy's suspicions, pointing out a pair of teenagers standing on the other side of the street.
They wore orange shirts, backpacks slung over their shoulders and each had a sword belted at their waists. Between the orange shirted teenagers stood the boys backup Annabeth. She had a backpack on her shoulder, like she was with them. But the boys knew better, she was in need of backup.
"The game is on!"