Training was cancelled because of all the excitement earlier that day, and both Kat and Gene were thankful for that. After filling out paperwork for the better part of an hour, the three pros let them tag along to an event at the Smithsonian Museum of American Heroics. An informal mixer welcoming superheroes from many countries around the world, leading up to a week of conferences and events for them, was open throughout the day to all official heroes. Yokozuna, Vivaman, and Dynamo were able to use their influence to get Kat and Gene in as guests for a couple hours, and they were able to meet many of the attending heroes, local and international.

Wildcat, the mystical ‘Living Sandstorm’ of the Central American deserts, was there, as was the solitary Totem, who was trying to figure out how to drink a cup of punch without removing one of her carved Tiki masks. Flyboy was talking to The Bullet about his Air Force adventures. To the surprise of the two unofficial guests, many of the present heroes had heard of them, if only from the fight earlier that day.

After the security guards started to get suspicious, Dynamo took them aside and thanked them again for their help. “I’ve got an idea that you two might like- you’ll get some information soon. But, in the meanwhile, feel free to reach out to any of us if you run into anything too big for you to handle.”

She handed Gene a USB drive with the symbol of the Department of Superpowered Affairs emblazoned on it. “Don’t tell anybody.” She winked conspiratorially and pushed them out of a side door.

With the flash drive in hand, the two of them dashed out of the restricted area they found themselves in, and took a bus back to Veracruz University.

* * *

That night, Laura Teller put her feet up after a long day of being Dynamo. Today was especially tiring, having included more giant robots, paperwork, formal events, and tag-along kids than she usually preferred. But she was happy as long as she could sit back and enjoy a cigarette and some mindless television, which she planned to start doing right that moment. She pointed a finger at the TV on her apartment wall and an arc of electricity connected it with her power. The TV came to life, and Laura pulled a cigarette out of the pack on her coffee table. She pinched an end between her still-cracking fingers and lit it with the electrical heat.

Just as she was ready to enjoy a much-deserved night in, Laura’s phone buzzed next to the near-empty pack of cigarettes. She groaned and leaned forward to see who would decide to do something as dangerous to them as calling her on a Saturday night. Her eyes widened when she saw the screen. The number wasn’t saved in her phone, but she recognized it anyway. She scrambled to pick up, and extinguished the burning cigarette on the stained table.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Hey, did you… need something?” she asked, nervous even before she heard the voice at the other end of the line. “You don’t usually call out of nowhere like this, is all.”

There were a few seconds of silence from the phone’s speaker, until a low male voice with a heavy Mexican accent said, “I didn’t need anything. You know that I only call to make sure that you have everything that you need.”

Dynamo gulped, but tried to make her voice sound confident. “Well, yeah, of course. I… I just figured that if you… nevermind. No, I don’t need anything right now.”

More silence from the phone. The voice suddenly boomed, leaving no trace of it’s gentle softness from before, “Then what happened today? How can you explain that display downtown? You know that I’ll keep you supplied with what you need, but you have to keep up your end of the bargain!”

Laura winced, placing a hand over the phone’s speaker. She hated when he did that. He was a pain to deal with, but she needed what his business supplied, so she had to put up with him.

“Look, I’m sorry, those kids, they got in the way. I’ll take a hit every now and then, but I can’t help what other people do! It was just a wild happenstance, and besides,” she said, looking at her computer monitor on the sofa, “I’m keeping an eye on them now.”

“Good.” The voice coming from the phone was back, seamlessly, to its original composition. “Make sure that something like that doesn’t happen again.”

She opened her mouth to speak again, but the caller hung up before she had the chance. “I will,” she said, and sat back down. But now, she was unable to relax at all.

* * *

Later that same night, an official-looking man with both arms full of loose papers and folders frantically burst into a room far below the surface of the city. A group of other well-dressed officials looked sharply at him, and he quickly composed himself and took his seat, the only one left empty. Everyone turned their attention back to the person at the head of the table as the latecomer tried to quietly arrange his papers on the long table in front of him.

“Well, now that we’re all here,” said the stern figure standing at the head of the table pointedly, “we can proceed with the meeting. Mr. Palmer, would you please present your research to the Board?”

The latecomer, Terrence Palmer, stood quickly and gathered a handful of the folders he had brought with him. “Of course, Mr. Burroughs. I’m sure that all of us know what we’re here to discuss tonight.” His confidence grew as he fell into the familiar words of his presentation. He had been waiting to present his information to the Board for months, and he wasn’t going to let mere nerves ruin his chance.

“We all want to know one thing- just what is the Bannister Line?”