Chapter 3-5

I ran towards the office at a steady pace. While Vista probably didn't need my help, better she have it and not need it than the other way around. I didn't know how long Vista's space warping would delay them, which made hurrying up all the more important. Who knows how many troopers are cornering her right now. It's frustrating, not knowing exactly what you're up against.

Then again, that's probably what some of the PRT officers were thinking about me…

Another squad came my way. I quickly disappeared into another room like I did before and let the troopers pass. Wait, why was I even bothering? They already knew I'm here: if the Master/Stranger thing hadn't tipped them off, my broadcast certainly did. You know what, screw stealth, I have a brute rating. Bulldozing through them works just as well.

I opened the door and flew through. The last trooper saw me coming and opened fire. It didn't matter: the rubber bullets would bounce harmlessly off my shield. He tried shouting something as the distance between us shortened, but the sound never left his lips. Before he could tap his buddies on the back, I jumped towards him and pushed.

The first indication that the troopers had of my presence was their own comrades flying into them.

The second was a wave of containment foam, locking them all in place.

That was so much easier than picking them off one-by-one. Seriously, screw stealth, I'm in a hurry. Now, how do I get to the office again? Right here, left there…just a few more turns…ah, crap.

"Squad, breaching in 3…2…1…Breach!" I was too slow. The door cracked open and at least two squads worth of boots started moving. Dammit! I had to stop them. No one gets left behind and I'm certainly not letting my teammates get foamed on my first mission.

The boots came to a standstill in the middle of the room, forming a line facing the computer. Another set of shoes was audible too, much softer than the heavy footfalls of the troopers. Vista.

"Gentlemen," The heroine said in her best supervillain voice "I've been expecting you." She said it so calmly, it was unnerving. Vista was probably trying to bluff them. Make them think that ten PRT officers were nothing to her. Either that, or she was really that powerful.

A pair of boots stepped forward and I could hear the almost tell-tale sound of the sprayer. Then, without warning, the sound warped, for the lack of a better word. A string of muffled expletives followed.

"Hey, Jeff?"

"Yes, Adam?"

"I have a question for you. Do you remember the briefing we had about Vista? The whole Shaker 9 space-warping thing?" So that's what the sound was. Vista's power distorted sound too. That actually made a lot of sense. Probably should have figured that out myself.

"Umm, yes?"

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, she could use it to redirect things like, oh, I don't know, CONTAINMENT FOAM?!"

I finally got to the office, thanking my lucky star that those idiots were too busy talking. Ignoring the hate-filled glares of what could only be Squad 3 foamed against the walls, I took stock of what I was up against. Ten officers, spread out in a line across the room, with at least one of them disabled by Vista's power. A quick peek inside confirmed that they were all turned inwards, their weapons facing the heroine. On the one hand, this was good: I could run up to them and catch at least some of them by surprise. On the other, they were all facing Vista and I didn't know the limitations of her power. If they all were to open fire on her at the same time…

"Well, what was I supposed to do?"

"Think about the briefing before you shoot?"

Vista noticed me, standing in the hallway. She tilted her head slightly to the right and nodded. I nodded back. We came to an unspoken agreement. Or at least, I think we did. Between her visor and my lack of training, it's hard to tell.

"Okay, aside from that."

"Stand around and keep her from escaping?"

"Okay, that too. But hey, gimme a break here. It's a training mission. We're allowed to screw up."

I broke into a run, foam-gun in hand.

"Jeff, there's a difference between 'screwing up' and 'shitting the bed so hard that the entire state of Kansas has a year's worth of free manure'. We're never going to live this down. Ever."

"Hey, it could be worse…"

A stream of foam shot out of my gun, hitting three of the troopers and locking them in place. A fourth collided with me, throwing off my aim, but it didn't matter: the foam itself suddenly changed directions and hit another soldier. The tackler punched me in the face a few times, with little effect. Seriously, trying to take on a brute with your fists? I made my displeasure clear with the butt of my gun before foaming the bastard, emptying the canister.

Vista was seemingly everywhere, pseudo-teleporting around with her power. One moment, she was in front of a trooper, hitting him in the kneecaps with a baton. The next, she took a ten-foot step out of the path or a charging soldier before holding up her taser and pulling the trigger. A trooper on the other side of the room suddenly crumpled to the ground.

Her display was impressive, but it did make my ears hurt. The way it distorted sound was incredibly disorienting, as if each little noise was replayed a dozen times at different frequencies. I grabbed a trooper by the neck and tased him before feeling a milk-like liquid touch my skin. A liquid that turned into solid concrete in moments. My eyes widened when I realized what was happening. One of the troopers had caught me in containment foam. Fuck.

I turned towards the man, or at least, as much as my predicament let me, and glared at him. The son-of-a-bitch got me. Bet he was feeling real proud of his achievement. His victorious smirk didn't help either. Luckily, his grin didn't last long: the stream soon turned around and hit him in the face. The shocked expression was almost worth getting caught. Almost.

"Hey, Jeff?"

"Yes, Adam?"

"What did I tell you about jinxing things?"

"Hey, we caught one of them. That's gotta count for something."

I tried to move, but my strength wasn't enough. Figures. The stuff was designed by Dragon, the greatest Tinker in the world. Some unlucky schmuck like me wouldn't be able to pull herself out of it, not with brute force. I had other options, though. My equipment wouldn't do me any good, not when my hands were stuck in the foam too. Powers were a better alternative. I sent pulses of sound through the substance, hoping to find just the right frequency to…there…

The foam shook moments before it started to…well…melt, I guess. Pieces of the stuff just fell of me as my power flowed through it and a pool of whitish liquid formed at my feet. Twenty seconds later, I was free. Looking at the shocked faces of the troopers, I grinned. I couldn't help myself. I just beat the PRT's signature weapon, the one thing that catches more supervillains than anything else and the only thing in their arsenal that could probably stop me.

"Okay, that's just not fucking fair!"

"Jeff…"

"You were playing with us, weren't you?!" Jeff said, glaring at me. "You let us catch you, just so you could show off your bullshit melt power. That's just evil, you know; giving us hope and then snatching it away!"

"Just ignore him." Adam reassured me. "He's sour about losing. You know how it is."

I did. I spent the last two years losing things: friends, stuff, dignity… Had I always been this vindictive? Was this my subconscious getting revenge by proxy? Was I taking my frustrations out on those poor bastards?

God help me, I seriously need a shrink.

Vista pulled the flash drive out of the computer and walked me out the door. "Gallant, Kid Win, I'm with Banshee. Program's complete, we're walking out with the flash drive now."

"Good job." Gallant responded. "Meet us at the front entrance. We'll cover you."

"Roger that." She said before turning to me. "Sorry, by the way."

"About what?"

"You getting foamed. I should have seen it coming, but having lots of people around screws up my power. If you didn't have that shaky thing, I'd have to leave you behind." Under most circumstances, I'd have taken that badly, but looking at the face she pulled while saying that last part…

I smiled. It was kind of sweet, the way she genuinely seemed to care. "It's okay. Apparently containment foam isn't soundproof. At least, not until Dragon sees the videos and throws a fit over someone beating her toys."

Vista nodded. "So it was just sound, what you were doing? I saw you knock over an entire squad in one go."

"Just sound." I replied. "And thanks…"

"What for?"

"For caring." The look Vista gave me when I said that…I should probably get myself checked for diabetes when this is over.

"You're my teammate. It's what we do."

Okay, that's enough touchy-feely. I'm crap at that sort of thing anyway. Back to business. "So, what're we going to do now? Can't imagine the PRT's just going to let us walk out the front door."

"You're assuming they have a choice…"

"They'll have a squad of two blocking the way and we won't be able to surprise them." I said while loading a fresh cartridge in my foam-gun. No idea how my equipment managed to stay intact, but I'm glad it did.

"Three, actually. I looked at the cameras before we left. Besides, you're forgetting the most important part: they won't be able to surprise us, either. Trust me." The cheeky grin that formed Vista's face was more than a little creepy. She was seriously enjoying herself. Then again, we'd just been given a blank check to beat up men twice our size and three times our age. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying myself too.

We walked into the lobby and sure enough, three squads of troopers came out of the woodwork pointing guns and loudly shouting orders at us. Normally, I would have been intimidated by fifteen armed men in heavy armor. In fact, I still was, if only a little. Vista, however, just smiled. She wasn't worried about anything, so why should I be?

Yes, why should I be? I've personally knocked out over a dozen men today. These guys, we can handle them. I let my power flow into my hands, ready to strike, but Vista stepped forward and started talking.

"Tell me, gentlemen, do you feel lucky, punk?" That was a movie quote, wasn't it? Why would she even…wait, are there actual villains that drop cheesy one-liners? Ah, never mind.

"Really, girl?" A soldier replied.

"You probably think you can take us, don't you? Just a bunch of teenagers. That's what all your buddies thought, anyway. Where are they, now?"

The soldiers started looking at each other, uncertainly. I could hear some of them gulp and swear under their breaths. They were afraid of us. Grown men, certified badasses…and they were afraid. Of us.

"There're three ways this is going to end." Vista continued. "A. You let us go and no one gets hurt. B. I'll leave you screaming in a two-inch bottomless pit or C. Banshee gets angry and does her thing. Trust me, you don't want that to happen."

Wait, what? Me getting angry is the scariest thing that can happen to them? Seriously?

On reflection, that actually made a lot of sense. The troopers didn't know the full extent of my powers. For all they know, I could have the power to obliterate them all with a thought. I wouldn't, even if I could, but they didn't need to know that.

One of the troopers gave the others a signal. I tensed. Just when I thought things were going to get violent, the officers slowly backed up. Eventually, there was enough room for us to fit while still maintaining a respectful distance. We walked on through and left the building without so much of a hitch.

"I can't believe that actually worked." I said, making sure that Vista was the only one who could hear me. "You're terrifying, you know. Parahumans Online didn't say anything about this."

"Says the girl who makes big burly men think they're in a horror movie." Vista replied. "Look, I hate it when people treat me like a kid. I mean, I'm the most senior Ward in the city! So I borrow lines from Aegis, Triumph, and the other guys, every now and then. They always know what to say, so… Yeah."

Gallant and Kid Win landed behind us, squabbling about something. "Seriously, I nailed that guy on the roof." Kid Win boasted. "That's like, what, seven kills to your five?"

Boys…

"First of all, if you had any actual 'kills', I'd be arresting you. Secondly, it's not a competition." Gallant replied. "We completed our mission as a team. The only thing that mattered is the magic flash drive. One of you got it, right?" Vista all but hopped towards him and handed it over. "Thank you."

Kid Win scoffed. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'd say if I were losing. How about you, Banshee? How many did you get?" A PRT van pulled over and we stepped in.

"Not sure." I replied. "I lost count after the second squad." There were the original guards, of course, and then…oh God, that came out completely wrong.

The look on Kid Win's face was priceless, though, and Gallant didn't stop laughing until we got back to the Rig.

It was good to have friends.