Taylor let herself lean against the kitchen island while she tried to steady her breathing. She dragged the arm of her sweatshirt across her forehead and took a moment to appreciate the impressive sweat she had worked up; the front of her shirt was dark with sweat, and her skin had a distinctive sheen that was evidence of the effort she'd been exerting.
Alec sat next to Taylor, his brown curls sticking to his forehead. He wasn't nearly as exhausted as Taylor, and she was starting to realize that his aloof attitude carried into fighting as well as anything else. Alec fought like he acted: lazy; he'd weaved under Taylor's swings and tried to trip her whenever a chance presented itself—she suspected he even used his power to keep her off balance at times. Regardless, their win/loss ratio was fairly even; he'd trip her, she'd pin him, and they repeated that pattern for the last hour and a half.
Lisa leaned over the counter from the opposite side, two water bottles in hand. Alec silently took one, but Taylor was more inclined to acknowledge the gesture.
"Thanks." Taylor said as she took the water bottle in her hand, unscrewing the cap and savoring the refreshing taste on her lips. Lisa nodded and shot Taylor a smile. It had been two days since Taylor had met with Armsmaster at that little cafe on the Boardwalk—three since the robbery—and Lisa hadn't changed her tune in the slightest. If she knew that Taylor was working with Armsmaster to find the Undersiders' boss, then Lisa hadn't made it known. Taylor was starting to wonder if she'd overestimated Lisa's ability, but if Lisa did know... Taylor was resolved not to sleep at the Loft from then on; she couldn't be too careful.
"No problem."
Taylor's attention turned to Brian and Ollie, who were still sparring, and she idly stuck her hand into her pocket; her fingers closed around the communicator Armsmaster had given her, and she took solace in the fact that she could send a distress call to Armsmaster and Dragon if she needed to. To think, she carried pepper spray when she had two of the most powerful heroes on speed dial.
It was honestly pretty impressive to watch the two go at it. Brian towered over Ollie, and both of them possessed lean builds, though Brian's muscles were more defined. Their faces were stern and focused, and they circled one another, clashed briefly, and separated; from Taylor's perspective, it looked more like they were analyzing one another rather than outright fighting.
Brian threw his weight into a left jab, and Ollie expertly weaved under the punch. That's another thing Taylor picked up on watching them spar; where Brian blocked incoming blows, Ollie dodged. She knew he was using his power, but Ollie had made it clear beforehand that he couldn't turn it off if he wanted to, so he was exempt from the "no powers" rule Brian made when it came to exercises like this.
Brian threw a right, and Ollie spun on his heels, latching onto Brian's arm and heaving Brian over his shoulder. The forward momentum of the punch forced Brian to lose his footing, and, once his feet had left the ground, he was committed to the fall. Not to say it was easy for Ollie; his effort was more than evident as he grunted through gritted teeth. When Brian's back hit the hardwood floor, Taylor winced at the raspy gasp of someone who'd just had the wind knocked out of them.
"Breathe, Laborn." Ollie advised, kneeling beside Brian on the floor.
"Fuck you." Brian gasped.
A minute or two passed while Brian lay on his back, choking for air like a fish out of water, until a proper, loud inhale caused Taylor to jump in her seat. Ollie offered Brian his hand and lifted him onto his feet. Brian planted his free hand onto Ollie's shoulder, gently shaking Ollie's hand. For a moment, Taylor thought it was over. That is, until Brian released Ollie's hand and delivered a hard right hook into his jaw, holding Ollie in place with his other hand. Taylor was almost surprised at the cheap tactic, but it was about the only way to land a hit on Ollie—he couldn't dodge if he couldn't move.
Ollie reeled, cradling his jaw and hissing through his teeth.
"We even?" He asked.
"Yeah. We're even." Brian declared. A moment of tense silence followed, but it didn't last as Ollie let a quiet chuckle slip. Brian followed suit, a stupid grin tugging at his lips.
"Glad to see you can fight dirty."
"Not normally my style, but you do what you have to."
"You should try and change up your tactics more." Ollie said. "You're good, but you're too rigid; you're predictable."
"I'll keep it in mind."
Taylor found it strange how the two were so amicable—more so than they were before they sparred. She supposed she'd always assumed that men bonded like this, but she'd never thought she'd see it in action. It was surprisingly easy to watch; Ollie and Brian were almost picturesque, swapping tips and playfully jabbing at each other. The fluorescent light of the Loft gave their skin a subtle shine as it was reflected on the thin layer of sweat that they wore.
"Taylor." Ollie's voice pulled Taylor out of her thoughts, and her cheeks flushed at the realization that she'd been staring.
"Uh, ye—." Taylor coughed, fumbling for her words, "Yeah?"
"Have you seen Lindt?" Taylor furrowed her brow, unfamiliar with the name, and Ollie must've noticed since he added, "Rachel."
"Oh, uh, no. Sorry." Taylor had made a point to avoid Rachel wherever possible, and Rachel had been just as adverse to Taylor; they never spoke, and Rachel always gave Taylor a wide berth and a glare when they crossed paths in the Loft. She assumed Rachel held a grudge against her for their first meeting, where Taylor broke Rachel's nose.
"She went to check on the money earlier." Alec said, his voice even. He cocked an eyebrow at the silence that followed and looked between the rest of the Undersiders—all eyes were trained on him. "What?"
"Lisa, did you know about this?" Brian turned his attention to Lisa.
"Not a clue."
"You didn't?" Alec asked Brian.
"How long ago was 'earlier?'" Brian ignored Alec's question in favor of asking one of his own.
"A few hours?"
Silence fell over the Loft again. Taylor briefly scanned the rest of the Undersiders' expressions and found that all but Alec wore a concerned face—Alec himself was more confused than anything. Taylor felt anxiety build in the pit of her stomach, and she broke the silence, hoping to relieve the tension hanging over them.
"Should we check on her?"
"Good plan." Brain said, already marching to the stairs—his back to them. "Masks on, guys."
————————————————————————
One of the first things Taylor noticed when they reached the maze of self-storage units was the offensive smell; the scent of wet garbage and unwashed bodies hung in the air like an invisible, overbearing fog. Even with her mask, the foul smell managed to reach her nose. The second thing Taylor noticed was the sheer number of insects that called the monotonous labyrinth home: spiders, roaches, ants, flies, wasps, and more.
She reached out with her power to get a feel for the environment. The storage units were largely abandoned, but a handful did have warm bodies inside—likely transients or junkies. Taylor didn't give it much thought, but placed bugs on them just to be safe.
Taylor had brought up the rest of the group and nearly walked into Alec when he came to an abrupt stop; she walked around him to get a look at what brought them to a halt. Brian was unlocking a storage unit, and Ollie was glaring down the empty path with his rifle shouldered.
"Moment of truth." Lisa quipped as Brian pulled the shutter door up, and Taylor held her breath.
"It's empty." Brian declared. Taylor quietly sighed; she'd hoped that Rachel hadn't betrayed them, but she can't say she was surprised. She'd never been happy to accept new members into the Undersiders, according to the rest of them, and they'd gotten two new members in quick succession—without Rachel's knowledge, either. Was this going to complicate things?
"I vote we kill her." Alec said his delivery was even and cold.
"Seconded." Ollie added.
Taylor should've jumped to Rachel's defense at the suggestion of murdering her, but she found she didn't really want to. Despite keeping her cover, Taylor didn't exactly have the most generous opinion of Rachel; where Taylor could forget that the rest of the Undersiders were criminals, Rachel struck her as a stereotypical violent criminal—hostile, aggressive, and none too bright.
Well, there was Ollie, but he was a different flavor of criminal. Regardless, Taylor had to wrestle with the words just to prepare to speak, but as she opened her mouth to protest, Lisa beat Taylor to the punch.
"Rachel didn't take the money." Lisa declared as she walked into the storage unit and fetched a discarded roll of duct tape from the concrete floor.
"Then what happened?" Alec asked.
Lisa didn't get a chance to answer. A metal ball—a sphere the size of a billiard ball with a reflective blue shell—clattered to the concrete in the middle of their loose huddle; a circular LED where the number should've been blinked a bright blue, and the flashes were getting faster.
"Scatter!" Brian shouted. Taylor didn't waste any time, running down the row of storage units and ducking into an open one. After a moment, the sound of an explosion rang in Taylor's ears, and a rush of wind whistled down the alley. Carefully, Taylor peeked out of the storage unit. The rest of the Undersiders were filing back into the open, and the echo of mechanized laughter caught Taylor's attention.
"Good evening, Undersiders." Taylor looked to the source of the voice: a feminine figure walking along the roof of the row of storage units on Taylor's left. I'm the dark; Taylor could only see the ominous glow of the woman's eye lenses, but as the woman leapt to the ground, Taylor found that their evening had become anything but good.
Bakuda, a Tinker with the ABB, stood in the dim light that was cast into the alley by the fluorescent sconces above each storage unit's shutter door. The alley was silent save for the tap-clack of Bakuda's steel-toe boots on concrete, and Taylor took the chance to appreciate how Bakuda lived up to the grease monkey aesthetic most expected from Tinkers.
She wore black flared cargo pants—the legs were too long, and Taylor could see the bottoms were fraying from their constant contact with the ground—and a white wife beater stained beyond recovery. Her face was obscured by a pair of welding goggles and a respirator that covered her mouth and nose; Bakuda's straight black hair fell wherever it pleased, and half her face was almost completely curtained by it.
Then, the centerpiece of Bakuda's ensemble: a rotary grenade launcher hanging from a strap thrown over her shoulder, bumping against her hip with every step; and a grenade bandolier on the opposite shoulder.
"I've been expecting you." Bakuda said, her automated voice bereft of any emotion. Despite being unable to read Bakuda's expression either, Taylor could tell from Bakuda's body language that she was more than confident.
The Tinker snapped her fingers, and half a dozen men and women filed into either side of the alley, blocking the Undersiders' exits—many of them being people she'd placed bugs on, assuming they were just homeless. Taylor shuddered, noticing that some were armed with bats, knives, and even handguns. The sound of a gun being chambered caused her to jump, and she spun around to see Ollie aiming at Bakuda.
"Ah." She chastised, wagging a finger at Ollie's threat like he was a spoiled child. A man in ABB colors shoved through the crowd, dragging a writhing body behind him, and, when he reached Bakuda, he tossed it to the concrete next to her. It was Rachel, mummified in duct tape, and speaking clearly enough through the tape gag that Taylor understood it as cursing and threats. "We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to your friend, yeah?"