A/N: Ponders Hm, either a certain British crowd will get mad at me for what happens in this chapter, or I've gotten some fact about the surroundings wrong. Let's find out which...who knows...maybe both at once!
Chapter 2
Somewhere outside London, Dragonelle was puttering around in a small cheery kitchen making tea. Even though her mimicry skills were, of course, perfect, she had still insisted on driving Psycho crazy "getting into character" over the last week.
Said cyborg, woken up by the clattering of china, ambled crankily into the area of their temporary base presently decorated to the style of their surroundings.
"Good morning," Dragonelle, who was now dressed as a matronly housekeeper, greeted him happily.
"Your accent's terrible," he lied as he crossed the kitchen and went over to stare at some blueprints on the wall that held important information concerning the day's activities.
"It's perfect and you know it," she replied smugly. Turning, he saw that she had shed the disguise and was back to her normal appearance. The housekeeper mask and body suit were somehow folded neatly into a briefcase on the table. He didn't know how she did it. He didn't really know how she did anything. It kind of pissed him off. Snatching the blueprints from the wall, he rolled them all neatly together and shoved them into a duffel bag already weighted down with plenty of C4, along with some choice pyrotechnics. It would be more of a publicity stunt than anything. Big city, but limited casualties. Today they would strike in their 20th country.
Berto sat in his usual place, although the door was blocked by lasers- his newest playthings of choice. Powerful and pretty to look at all at once, he thought, then blushed furiously as the more feminine part of Team Steel strode up to the bars.
"Find anything yet, Martinez?"
"Quizas," he said, "pero no voy a decirte nada."
"Oh come on," Kat whined. "It was one burger!"
Without a word, he swiveled in his chair to face his console again, refusing to smile and let her know he wasn't still mad. As of late, he had decided that the easiest way of punishing his teammates from their discretions was to make them regret skipping out of Spanish class.
"Oh fine," she grumbled as she picked up a backpack from the floor and withdrew from it a paper White Castle bag. Whistling to get his attention, unnecessarily, she tossed the bag between the lasers and tapped her foot expectantly.
Berto all but dove to save the sack of burgers from the indecency of hitting the floor. "No lanza las cosas preciosas!" He exclaimed furiously as he slid back across the floor, cradling the bag in his arms.
Kat looked skeptical. "You can't possibly love food that much."
In response, he shoved an entire burger in his mouth.
"There's a thing called chewing, ya know. And let's go- we're even now."
Berto pondered this fact, swallowed, and then hit a button to let her through the lasers. "Where's Max?" he asked suspiciously, knowing he wanted to know what was going on just as much as she did.
Kat said nothing, but instead watched over Berto's shoulder as a burger seemed to float out of the bag and then disappear into thin air.
"No fair!" Berto yelled, as Max shimmered into sight next to him.
"Come on, Bro, should have seen that coming."
Berto stared at him for a few seconds, then quickly snatched the bag closer to himself and typed something on his keyboard to bring up a black and white display. "This," he said slowly, "is what the computer at Psychonelle's lair is seeming to focus on."
Max made a face. "Psychonelle?"
Kat smirked. "He came up with it himself. Still thinks 'Biocon' was incredibly clever".
"What's wrong with 'Biocon'?!" Berto demanded defensively.
"Moving on..."
"Fine," he said, although he gave her a glance over his shoulder before clicking a file on the black and white display to make it bigger. It's name was two words long.
"Operation Eyeroll?" Kat asked, rolling her own eyes at the name.
Max kept his focus on the screen, then finally shifted it to Berto. "What does it mean, Bro?"
Berto shrugged. "From the looks of it, the file contains blueprints of a few major tourist attractions around London, and some angles and numbers that I'm still trying to work out."
Kat looked to the ceiling, as if it might hold a hint at the answer. "Eyeroll?"
Finally, a break after pretending to guard that creepy "call me Marco" guy. Blaine sighed as he collapsed onto the couch in the break room. All day he'd been starving, and now he smelled White Castle somewhere in the building. Probably some of Weird Guy's minions. They were always hoarding things. Lighting a cigarette, he leaned back and savored the smoke before turning on the TV. Seeing that the news was playing, he went to change the channel, but stopped at the last minute, catching a familiar logo. After staring at it for a moment, he walked to the window, leaned out and looked up at the side of the building. Yep, it was the same one all right. So what was it doing, he wondered, drawn in flames at the base of a humongous ferris wheel? Watching the story unfold, he snorted as fireworks went off, and the ferris wheel, called the London Eye, according to the newscaster, was blown off its base and rolled down the street for a ways before collapsing into the water.
As the story continued, some man with a really bad hairpiece began to read aloud a note left by the supposed terrorists concerning what they called "Operation Eyeroll". Eyeroll, ha. I get it. He chuckled as the station replayed the footage, starting with the fiery N-Tek logo, and slowly panning out to the smoking mess lying in the Thames.
