FOUR

"You did a nice job," said Drake from the front passenger seat, as he looked at the interior of their van. He played with the pristine screen in the center of the dashboard, flipping through the radio. "You're getting better at this."

"Thanks," said Brielle blandly, her elbow on the windowsill with her chin resting in her hand. She was sitting in the back row with the other girls. "Wish we could keep it like this," she added under her breath.

"I know," said Zach, checking his mirrors. "But you did do a really good job, Bri. You always do. It's a shame we can't keep it like this."

He turned the ignition on and drove the van out of the school parking lot. Once further down the street, he opened the window and stuck the police siren on the top. It flared to life and Zach increased his speed.

The van was over eighteen years old and should've been dumped in a junkyard at least four years ago. Brielle's powers were all that kept it going in the first place. They took advantage of their missions to make it more comfortable, reverting it back afterwards. Otherwise, someone was bound to notice a high tech interior in an old, dilapidated van.

It was a risk they couldn't afford to take.

Drake was allowed to drive them to school since he was seventeen. Zach and Hikaru had driver's licenses as well, due to special permission their chief had obtained, but they could only drive during missions. The entire police force knew their identities; there wasn't any worry about being pulled over.

It was strange.

Here they were, driving to the place where a crime was being committed. It wasn't cool or exciting. They weren't swinging onto the scene like flashy comic book heroes. They had no quippy remarks or silly puns upon their arrival. There were no fireworks declaring their appearance. They were just driving. It felt lame. None of them could fly; though, Zach had heard about some of the other units containing a member with such a gift.

But for themselves, they drove.

Despite the gifts they each held, there was nothing special nor heroic here. There were no tricks. There were no super villains out to take over the world. There were just people committing crimes. As a unit, they were mainly called for bank robberies and the like – something that happened often enough within the large city of Templeton Hills. Sometimes, they were assigned to a kidnapping, but that was rare – none of them had tracking abilities. They weren't ever used for missing persons or homicides.

It was disappointing. Zach wished they could do more, be more – they could've been true heroes, like the ones he'd always admired in the movies. How sad it was; they didn't even have enough money to go see a movie. They weren't treated like the heroes they could've been. What did it mean to be a hero anyway? How were they different from anyone else? Was it their powers that made them unique? Was it the antagonists that made them heroes?

Or was it something more?

Zach sighed and switched on the police scanner.

"Unit Twelve reporting for duty," said Zach. Sweat accumulated within his gloves as he gripped the steering wheel. He bore it. He licked his lips, his stomach crawling with an unpleasant feeling. He had delayed too long.

"About time, One."

His stomach churned.

"During school hours, you know, sir," said Zach, attempting to maintain some respect. His efforts fell short.

"Remember who you're speaking to, One!" snapped the voice.

Zach inhaled and clenched his teeth. "Yes, sir," he said softly.

There was an aggravated huff.

"There's been an armed robbery. They haven't come out of the bank since we've surrounded it. They've taken hostages and are demanding safe exit. Your job is to rescue the hostages while securing the criminals. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now move it, Unit Twelve. There's no time to lose!"

Zach switched the police scanner off, refusing to answer to their title. Silence filled the car. "All right, guys," he whispered. As he said before every mission, without need: "Remember to say our code names out of sight. No need to ruffle the chief's feathers about protocol."

The group murmured their confirmations.

Go through the motions.

It's safe there.

Despite the rules, despite the labels, Zach refused to be a number. He wouldn't stand for that. They were more than that, more than mere numbers. A year into being a unit, they had come up with simple nicknames to address each other on a mission. They'd gotten better after that. They had become the team they were never supposed to be.

All one syllable codenames that identified their gifts.

Zach kept his name at the others' insistence. He appreciated why, but if the Chief of Police, Andrew Sullivan, heard the others calling Zach Chief, they would be in enormous trouble – much more than having the codenames in the first place. Zach's codename was a symbol of open rebellion and would be taken as such. It was a strong possibility their team would be disbanded for such a carnal sin.

But that was the one and only risk they were willing to take.

They were human beings – and deserved to be treated as such.

Unfortunately, such things were wishful thinking.

They reached the bank in ten minutes; Zach parked the van nearby. The usually busy main street had been blocked with numerous police cars. Zach frowned. Why are there so many? That's unusual. Some of the officers held back the crowd gathered to get a look at what was happening, while others were trying to calm the people who had family in the bank as hostages.

Chief Sullivan stood in the center, barking orders at anyone who ran by. At the same time, he was shouting into a cell phone at his ear. His presence among his subordinates was dominant, his height seeming to tower above the rest – though, he wasn't taller than the average man. He was older, his brown hair greying at the edges.

Zach's hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Just bear it. Just get through this. Do the job. Get out. Go home.

Simple.

He didn't get out of the van. The others didn't move, either. Stalling, Zach turned in his seat to look at them. Jacob was sitting in the middle row by himself with his hands clasped in his lap. In the back, Hikaru was in the middle, while Brielle was on the side closest to the van door. Sevati was boxed in at the other side, looking out her window.

No one wanted to do this.

"Are you guys ready?" asked Zach, his voice quiet.

Brielle shook her head. "Let's not and say we did," she said, pushing her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. "I wanna go home."

Best suggestion I've heard all day.

Zach tried to smile, but it was tense and fake. "Come on."

There were exasperated sighs. Jacob pulled the handle and the side door slid open. The noise of chaos flooded their ears. Zach winced. As they piled out of the car, a heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder. It wasn't gentle.

"About time you got here," said a stern voice. Zach turned around. Sullivan stood in front of him. Zach pressed against the wall of the van, keeping his back straight.

"Sorry, sir," said Zach, holding back the list of excuses and retorts he wanted to say. This man was a no nonsense type. He'd gotten into trouble for retorts before and he had no inclination to repeat those experiences.

Keep your mouth shut. Don't piss him off today.

"Come, all of you. We need to talk," said Sullivan, pulling him away with a firm hand. Zach gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to pull out of the man's grip. The touch made his skin crawl beneath his suit.

The chaos level toned down a bit at their arrival. Cheers burst from the crowd of people at the sight of them, intermingled with irritated shouts. Some of the children waved to them. Jacob smiled softly at some of the onlookers. Drake was the biggest attention grabber: he waved his hand at them and the crowd crowed happily even more.

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The boos overshadowed the cheers.

As they turned the corner, Zach gave a quick glance into the crowd. Faces blended together, heights erratic with different ages – yet just as he turned away, something in the crowd caught his gaze. A man…? He wouldn't have noticed anything if it hadn't been for those piercing crystal blue eyes.

But he was around the corner before he could get another look.

They entered a slender alleyway, shadowed by the large bank and the other nearby buildings. Sullivan turned around to look at the group, folding his arms in front of his chest. Zach rolled his shoulder. The man's eyebrows creased with narrowed grey eyes; his mouth edged downward in a perpetual scowl.

"You can't screw this up, you got that?" said Sullivan, his tone sharp. Lovely, that'll raise morale, now won't it, sir? thought Zach dryly. "There're lives at stake here. You're to obey my orders should I give further instructions. Your only job is to restrain these criminals and to get the hostages out alive. I want perfection. No injuries. No failure. Am I understood?"

A chorus of 'Yes, sir' flooded the air. The man nodded with a small flash of approval. It was fleeting, however; he directed his gaze at Zach.

"No mistakes like last time."

Zach nodded; his jaw tightened. "Yes, sir. We've got this."

"Get to work, then."

Zach waited for the man to leave the alleyway, before he turned to his friends. He could see it in their eyes: they were in the zone now. Determination burned. No longer were they the vulnerable, easily bullied orphans in their school. Here, the enemy didn't know who they were. They could hide behind the mask and take out any criminal who opposed them. They were powerful against their enemies.

This was what kept a roof over their heads and what kept food on the table, no matter how limited it was.

Zach motioned to the group and they huddled around him. "You ready?" he whispered, looking at each of them. They all nodded. "Then, let's do this."

It'll be all right.

We've succeeded so many times before. We've helped so many people before. We'll save them and we'll stop these criminals.

A few mistakes don't define us.

They walked to the end of the alleyway. After a few minutes of searching, they found a heating duct. Jacob knelt down in front of it and withdrew a metal rod from his belt. He positioned it in front of his mouth, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Flames burst from his mouth, amber lighting up the darkened alleyway. The blaze poured into an opening on the rod, forming into a small line that came out of the back.

Jacob burned a hole into each corner of the heating duct, melting the screws completely. Jacob wiped the sweat from his forehead, pulling away from the vent. Drake took his place. The older boy grabbed the edges of the metal opening and pulled, ripping it off.

"So easy," said Drake with a cocky drawl. He set it aside quietly and patted Jacob on the back. "Good work, Blaze."

"For you, it is," said Sevati, rolling her eyes. Drake gave her a confident smile, coming to stand next to her.

Brielle knelt down in front of the opening. She rubbed her hands together and placed one onto the metal surface. "Doesn't seem like anyone is guarding the emergency door," she said, after a moment. "I can't sense any weapons. But they did put a high tech lock on the door."

"Can you get through it?" asked Zach. "What about the bank alarm?"

Brielle intertwined her hands together and cracked her fingers. "Of course. Easy stuff. Be ready for me."

She crawled into the heating duct. The sounds echoed lightly as she disappeared. The rest of them waited by the nearby emergency exit door. Drake could've easily torn the door off its hinges, but that would've alerted the criminals.

No swinging heroes here.

A few minutes passed in silence. Clink. A sound came from behind the door; it swung open to reveal a smirking Brielle. The special lock floated in pieces in the air above her upturned palm.

"You guys sure are slow," said Brielle, her tone playful. The pieces lowered to the ground without a sound. "I thought I was gonna have to beat up the bad guys all by myself."

"You wish," said Drake.

They closed the door behind themselves. Tall windows let in the sunlight, which streamed into the long hallway and shadowed part of the path. At the end of the hallway were a pair of restrooms. Drake stepped towards the men's room.

"Whoa, excuse you," whispered Brielle, looking at the men's bathroom door with disgust in her eyes. "I am not going into the guy's bathroom."

"Uh, Spark…" began Hikaru. She never got a chance to finish her thought.

"Does it matter?" asked Sevati with a sigh.

"But I've never been in the girl's room," said Drake, horrified.

Zach put a hand to his forehead, sighing deeply. Really? We're really having this argument right now? Again?

"No, we were in the guy's bathroom last time," hissed Brielle. "You make the sacrifice this time."

"We're wasting time," said Sevati lightly.

"Come on, Bri, what's wrong with the guy's bathroom?"

"It's dirty!"

"Aren't all public bathrooms dirty?" whispered Jacob.

"No, it's not—"

"Uh, hello?" said Zach, stepping in between them, lifting his hands into the air. "The bank robbers are probably guys—" Hikaru and Sevati both opened their mouths, about to protest. "—not that girls can't rob banks and threaten hostages, too," he quickly amended. I can't believe I have to say that. "But… Let's just say they're men. All right? We're going into the men's room."

Some things just never change.

Brielle folded her arms, her mouth slanting in annoyance. As they walked inside, she grimaced at the unique, functional side of the male bathroom. Hikaru stared at the ceiling, avoiding all eye contact with the porcelain objects.

"We need to figure out what's going on," said Zach, looking at Hikaru. She nodded. With a shimmer, she disappeared, turning invisible. Her footsteps were soft as she walked out of the bathroom.

"All right, depending on how many there are—" Since Sullivan didn't bother to tell us anything. Thank you for the nonexistent help. It's like he wants to sabotage us. "—let's just go with our usual method: the bathroom plan."

"Cloak isn't going to like that," said Sevati.

"But it's the easiest plan," whispered Jacob. "I mean… there's less fighting, so less risk, right?"

Possibly.

The plan relied on stealth, forcing them to take things slowly. It was better this way for most of their missions. After all, if they came into the bank, fighting wildly, someone could get hurt – especially one of the hostages. The girls were best at slipping in and disabling the enemies. Brielle would dismantle the weapons, while invisible Hikaru would lure the criminals away and cause confusion among them. After Drake knocked them out, Sevati would tie them up.

They rarely had an all out battle with criminals. Stealth was the safer, smarter way of bringing them down. There was no reason to burst onto the scene like a bunch of hotheads, when luring them out one by one had the same effect.

The bathroom door opened. Hikaru became visible again. "There's five men, each carrying small semi automatics," she said. "And there're seven hostages." The light in her eyes dimmed; her lips thinned briefly. "Chief," she whispered. Fear bled through her dark eyes. "There's a child, a little girl. What if—"

Zach placed a hand onto her shoulder. Her gaze lifted, connecting with his – her terror penetrated his heart.

"No one is gonna get hurt, all right?" whispered Zach. The light in her eyes didn't brighten. "Look, it's going to work out," he said. "No one's going to die or get hurt. We got this – we've done this before. We take down the bad guys and save the hostages. We're—we can do this."

He had almost said, 'We're the heroes.' Thankfully, he had caught himself before it slipped out. She gazed at him. The only window Zach had into her emotions were her eyes and lips. She nodded, the light in her eyes softening.

"We're counting on you, then, Cloak," said Zach, giving her a smile and a pat on the arm. The flesh around one of her eyes moved, giving the indication that she was raising an eyebrow; there was a hint of confusion.

Then, recognition dawned.

"Oh, no—no, we're not doing that plan," said Hikaru. There was a pause; Zach didn't budge. Desperation entered her tone. "Can't we do something else?"

"Oh, come on, you have the fun job," said Drake brightly. "I wish I could do it. It's hilarious."

"But I hate this plan. Why do I always have to be the one to lure them out? And in such an embarrassing way!"

"I know! It's amazing!" exclaimed Drake. His mouth twisted in disappointment. "I wish it were me," he said. The evidence of him wriggling his eyebrows showed. "I guess I just don't have that perfect, alluring nature to my voice."

"I have a fantastic idea, Smash: let's trade. I much rather be punching them out."

Drake laughed. Hikaru dropped her face into her hands. She sighed, resigned to her fate. She went invisible. Three of her steps were heard before they went silent with her stealth. The door to the bathroom opened and closed.

Silence reigned as they waited. Drake took his position near the door, his body tense. Sevati stood at the other side, while Jacob and Brielle hung back with Zach. The waiting was always difficult, but it was the silence that killed him. He couldn't help but worry about her, wonder what was going on. Perhaps it came with being the leader, this nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. It had nothing to do with her skill; she could do this without getting caught.

But his stomach still churned in her absence.

The sound of footsteps signaled her first success, the first victim to the you-have-to-go-to-the-bathroom trick – all beautifully whispered in the ear.

The masked robber barely had a moment to open the bathroom door when he was met by Drake. The boy gave him a smile and a lift of the hand in greeting.

"Yo."

That same hand turned into a fist and smashed into the man's face, knocking the man out immediately. With the flick of her hand, Sevati released a small seed into the air from a pouch around her wrist. The seed hovered in the air briefly, before it expanded, vines bursting forth. By the time Drake dragged the robber into the bathroom, Sevati had strong vines around the man's arms, wrists, and ankles.

Drake took the man's gun and tossed it to Brielle. It paused in midair a few inches away from her outstretched hands. Her hands moved in a circular motion; the gun came apart, the pieces separating altogether. She lowered them to the ground and they clinked against the floor.

"Good job, guys. Peach, you might be crushing the guy's wrists with those vines."

Sevati rolled her eyes. "He's fine; he'll live," she said; the vines loosened barely.

Zach stepped to the door and peeked into the empty hallway. "Cloak, you there?" he asked. There was a soft sigh and Hikaru's form appeared with a light shimmer. Zach smiled. "Good work. One down, four to go."

"Hey, you think this batch is dumb enough to all need to go to the bathroom at the same time?" asked Drake with a grin, poking his head out from behind Zach.

Hikaru chuckled. "We'll see, won't we? Men can sometimes be a bit slow on the uptake, hm?" The hallway became empty again. There was a soft laugh; then, silence.

Drake looked at Zach. "I set myself up for that one, didn't I?"

Zach snorted. The group fell into silence once again, as they waited for the next sucker of a criminal who would fall victim to Hikaru's invisible attack.

She didn't disappoint.

The second robber was knocked out, gun removed, and tied up with the first. That leaves three. Time to give her some backup. Bank robbers weren't exactly stupid, after all. They were bound to figure out that something was up by now – or at least be somewhat suspicious.

"I'm going with her," said Zach, stepping out of the bathroom. "You know what to do."

He walked softly through the long hallway, staying alert. The vaulted ceiling dwarfed him, the modern architecture giving it a clean, white look, even in the darkness of the limited light. Zach reached the end of the hallway. He crouched low, staying close to the wall, remaining hidden within the shadows. An invisible touch lightly brushed against his arm. Zach crept forward. He kept his head down, keeping his gloved hand over the lower half of his face to shield the exposed skin.

Once around the corner, he could see them: the last three criminals and the seven hostages.

Dread filled his chest.