TEN

"What do you think 'emergency' means, One? A stroll in the park?! We aren't setting up play dates!"

"No, sir."

"I sent the address. Now move it!"

"Yes, sir," said Zach, ending the call. He slipped the phone into his pocket. "Let's go," he said, deep tiredness in his tone.

They collected their suits and were out the door in minutes. Once in the van, Brielle changed the interior, giving them space to change into their uniforms. Windows were shaded and a divider erected.

Zach finished first; he got into the driver's seat. "Hang on, guys," he said.

There were muffled grunts as the van pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Brielle altered the interior when they had finished changing. The van became silent. With masks in place, tension was high. Zach didn't have the heart to break the silence. They needed to make a plan. He needed to encourage them. He needed to give them hope.

But trite words weren't going to help them.

Instead, Zach thought over plans, ideas, and scenarios for the upcoming fight. He discarded them one by one. They all seemed doomed to fail. However, one idea stood out in Zach's mind: a group attack. A simple plan, but if this were Falcon, it'd be anything but easy.

If only he had more data. How had the other units' fights gone down? The more he thought about it, the more something felt off. How had Falcon – one man – managed to defeat six trained fighters with special powers?

It didn't make sense.

Something was missing here. True information about Falcon was limited, despite his infamous nature. Much of what Zach had gathered from Internet searches was a mixture of urban folklore and fake police reports. Falcon was an adult male and struck random specialized hospitals. The death toll had reached over five hundred now. Tales were told about him, the areas of where he struck were known, but there was nothing on the man's appearance.

Well, there were no 'official' reports, not even from the police department. There were random blog posts and plenty of videos about supposal sightings. Obviously, there were grains of truth in those articles, but they were too difficult to pinpoint. But one thing for certain: there was no possible way the government and the police had zero information.

Zach gritted his teeth.

That meant Sullivan was holding out on them.

There was confidential information somewhere, yet – for whatever reason – Sullivan had chosen to withhold it from them. How were they supposed to protect this city? How were they supposed to succeed at stopping Falcon? Why let them go into this blind?

Zach huffed to himself. He tried to focus on driving, but his mind kept wandering to one fact.

Why was it every time this man entered a city, Falcon managed to kill hundreds of people? Why didn't they evacuate all the hospitals? Why did they allow the man to succeed in his attacks? He was one man. Why couldn't they stop him?

It didn't make any sense.

The missing pieces of the puzzle frightened Zach. The shadowed unknown illuminated one thing: either Falcon was that skilled or someone was pushing the information down.

Neither sounded good.

As Zach pulled up to the location, he had to pause at the roadblock. Once he cleared inspection, he drove through the street, passing by numerous police cars. The red and blue lights flashed, blinding the evening with their bright colors. Zach pulled the van over to an empty spot and turned it off. He twisted in his seat, looking back at the others. In the sea of black suits, he could see their eyes.

"Keep our nicknames to ourselves," said Zach. "It's going to be all right. We'll stop him."

No one moved. No one answered. He knew: they all expected this to go south. Zach shook his head. He got out of the van, shutting the door behind himself. The others followed.

"There you are!" shouted Sullivan. "What took you so long?" The man strode towards them, irritated as ever.

Zach straightened and made eye contact, lifting his chin. He better have some information for me.

"Come here," said Sullivan, motioning with a finger. Zach obeyed. When he got close, Sullivan clamped a hand onto the back of his neck. Zach stiffened. He was forcibly led away from his team.

He hated when the man touched him – it was always harsh and impersonal, despite the veneer of a casual, personal touch.

"Listen to me," said Sullivan in a low whisper. "Based on our intelligence, Falcon is going to strike one of three hospitals in this area—"

"So, it is Falcon, then."

Sullivan gave him a sharp look; the hand on Zach's neck squeezed harder. "Of course, it's Falcon," he snapped. "What were you expecting? A picnic? Haven't you been keeping up with the news? Don't interrupt me again."

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Zach nodded; his hands curled into fists. "Yes, sir."

"The potential targets have been evacuated to the nearest available locations. I want Unit Twelve on the rooftops to survey the area. Falcon is known to engage units in a fight. Your job—"

"Wait a minute," began Zach. Sullivan's lips thinned in heated disapproval. "Why haven't the other hos—"

"You interrupted me again," said Sullivan in a low hiss, his grey eyes widening furiously. "What did I just say about that?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but—"

"Shut up and listen to your orders."

"But, sir, why aren't they evacuating all of the hospitals?" asked Zach, plowing forward with his question, despite the glare. "Shouldn't we be evacuating all the hospitals in the entire city? Wouldn't it be safer to remove everyone from the locations until Falcon leaves?"

The hand on Zach's neck tightened to an unbearable pressure.

"They can't shut down every hospital in the city," snapped Sullivan, the condescension dripping through his tone. Zach clenched his jaw, tightening his lips in the effort to remain quiet. "People need those facilities. We can't shut everything down just because one psychopath goes on a terrorist spree."

Sullivan shook him by the neck and pulled him closer, bending over his ear. Zach tried not to pull away; the mask protected him from the whispered breath over his skin. It still sent shivers down his spine.

"Pay attention, will you?" whispered Sullivan, his tone turning darker. "We don't have all night for your idiotic questions. Your job is to bring Falcon down. I don't care about any stories you might've heard. Bring him down. I want him in a cell tonight. Do not let him get away, understood?"

"Yes, sir," said Zach. Questions were on the tip of his tongue, but he held them back. The man wouldn't answer them, anyway. The hand disappeared from his neck. Sullivan turned and waved in dismissal.

"Get your team together. Do not fail, One."

Zach slowly unclenched his hands and took a deep breath. He forced himself to look away; his gaze sought his team.

He really hated that name.

Zach walked to his friends, who were standing together in silence. Their attention rested on the flurry of activity of the police; each were tense, readied for the attack. He motioned to them and they quickly came to him. He took a deep breath.

"It's Falcon."

Their reaction was grim. Every shoulder slumped; each pair of eyes glistened with fear.

"Sullivan says Falcon is going to hit one of the surrounding hospitals," continued Zach, keeping his tone business-like. "How he knows this, I don't know. He's not being forthcoming with information. But it doesn't matter. We're going to stop Falcon."

"But…" began Jacob tentatively. "Can we?"

"Sullivan expects us to," said Zach, unable to keep the bitterness out of his tone. Drake's expression darkened, while Hikaru closed her eyes briefly. "Look, it doesn't matter. We can do this," he said, trying to put strength and confidence into his tone. "I know we can."

We have to – we have no choice.

"But I don't understand," said Drake, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Why these specific hospitals? What's so special about them? And what makes them think he'll hit one of these?"

"I don't know," said Zach, shaking his head. "Sullivan wasn't in the mood for questions."

"Hey… something doesn't feel right," said Brielle, leaning in closer.

"Do you feel something?" asked Zach; his breath caught in his chest. "Do you think you could find the bombs from this distance?"

Brielle looked around; her head lifted into the air and glanced at the sky. She bit her lower lip. After a moment, she looked back at him. "No… I can't sense them. I just… Something doesn't feel right."

It would be too dangerous to search for them now, too.

"Bri's right," said Sevati. "The earth beneath my feet… It feels somewhat… restless, I guess is what I'm going for – it just doesn't feel normal."

Zach sighed.

Five pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly. Zach knew what it meant: they would do whatever he said, even going against orders. Sullivan would brush off any tip that came from them. He wouldn't move the entire operation based on a gut feeling from the girls.

Their voices would not be heard.

"All right, then," whispered Zach, breathing out slowly. "Keep an eye out for anything strange. You all have your ear pieces, right?" Heads nodded. "Grappling hooks?" Hands touched a black pouch at each hip. "Okay, we're on the rooftops tonight. If you see Falcon, alert everyone."

"What if he sees one of us?" asked Jacob.

"He'll fight you," said Zach without hesitating a beat. "But if that happens, you let the rest of us know. Survive and keep him busy. We'll get to each other. Don't you dare try to bring him down by yourself."

Emotion stirred in every eye. It was going to be a long night.

"Okay, split up," said Zach, clapping his hands. The others nodded and pulled out grappling hooks. The mechanism activated with a soft click. Four hooks were pointed upward. As four of his team members ascended into the rooftops, a hand touched Zach's shoulder. He turned.

"Everything will be all right," said Zach, wishing he had the power to fulfill that promise. A soft smile tugged at exposed lips. Hikaru nodded. With a steadying breath, she prepared her grappling hook and followed the others to the rooftops.

Zach took a deep breath, meditating for a minute. Confidence flowed through his soul. Fortified, he removed his grappling hook and pointed it towards a different roof, shooting it into the air. It connected. He attached the cord to his suit belt. When everything was secure, he released the mechanism.

A swooping sensation fell into Zach's stomach. He didn't always enjoy this weightless feeling, where there was no solid ground beneath his feet. Yet, there was something freeing about it, as if there wasn't anything else in the world but himself. The fear that had plagued his heart slipped away with the ground. Zach took deep breaths as he came closer to the rooftop.

I've got to stay focused. No time to be afraid.

Once at the top, Zach stood a foot away from the edge and looked out at the horizon. The scenery on the rooftop always took his breath away. Bright lights illuminated the night sky. The city sparkled, tiny glowing dots brightening the heavens as far as the eye could see. Planes flew overhead, to and from the city's airport. In the distance, the last of the daylight waned to the blue dusk of the evening. The city was filled with life. The sounds melded together, a clash of noise and chaos with a blend of peace and tranquility.

Zach tore his gaze away from the horizon. He found a vantage point on the flat rooftop and knelt down. He blended within the shadows. He looked around, his eyes searching the other rooftops. Though the night was nearly upon them, he could catch a glimpse of movement.

"Everyone in position?" whispered Zach.

He received five affirmative answers.

"Good. Be alert."

Now came the hard part: staying there for hours. And on little sleep, yay us. Without a doubt, it was dull work, crouched in position for hours at a time. It was easy to lose one's mind during these moments of endless waiting – waiting for something bad to happen.

Zach wasn't sure how much time passed. He watched the darkness of the night, looking for anything out of the ordinary. His mind was clear of thoughts, his breathing slow. In this moment, he became what they wanted him and his team to be.

An emotionless, mindless soldier.

In the stillness of the night, it seemed nothing could happen. It was so quiet, despite the city life. It was so normal, despite six teenagers in black on the rooftops. It was so calm, despite the many police officers down below.

But it wasn't quiet. It wasn't normal. It wasn't calm.

An explosion shattered the night.