Kryptonite, Part Seven
The team, along with Chad, gathered around the conference table at the local SEA base. On the far wall, Jason and Oliver appeared on a large television. “Alright, teleconference is set up,” Jason reported. “Let’s get started. First off, the good news. Based on everything you got from Sunderstorm and Turbine, we’ve got a ping on that mirror. Apparently it’s known as the Frost Of Aideen.”
“Sounds ominous,” Roland said, leaning back in his seat. He looked around at the team. “How bad is it?”
“Pretty bad. You’re looking at a high-tier magical artifact, Roland. It was forged in Scotland during the Atlantean invasions of the 2600s BCE. Aideen was some sort of priestess, probably a shamaness, and she devised the mirror to encourage the occupying Atlantean forces to leave her people alone. Worked like a charm.”
Kryptonite, Part Six
“Alright, here’s the plan,” Chad murmured to Roland, glancing around the room. “I’ll lay down a wall of covering fire. You leap through it, grab Yousef, and jump out the window. It’s only the second floor, so if you shield him, he should be fine. Then get help.”
“No way, man,” Roland said, shaking his head. “We never leave a man behind.”
“For heaven’s sake, I just asked if your friends wanted to go to the opera with us,” Turbine said, crossing her arms.
Kryptonite, Part Five
Catherine around the lobby of the small office building, raising an eyebrow. She glanced at the directory again for confirmation. “Third floor,” she murmured. “Sunderstorm Enterprises.”
“Not very imposing for the city’s best supervillain,” Blossom said. “I thought he’d have a big mountain lair, or a gleaming skyscraper, or something.”
“Well, I guess not.” Catherine said. “Maybe crime doesn’t pay after all.”
Kryptonite, Part Four
“Okay, serious brainstorming time,” Roland said, looking around the table. “We have a crisis on our hands. Thanks, Tim.”
Tim mumbled something under his breath and stared down at the table. He and Agent Cinderstorm had joined the Magisters to discuss the team’s sudden discovery. Once they’d realized that Catherine’s flute was really gone, Yousef had excused himself to put together a pseuodechnological device. Once he’d determined that his own powers remained intact, he’d rejoined the others to discuss what to do next.
Kryptonite, Part Three
Agent Chad led the way into the SEA building, nodding to the desk sergeant. “Afternoon, Tim. Anything new?”
“Turbine called. Wanted to speak with you.” Tim gave Chad a thumbs-up, which the agent quickly waved away as Catherine's face began to cloud over again. Seeing the other agents, Tim quickly shifted into a more professional demeanor. “I mean, uh, good afternoon, agents. You're the Magisters, right?”
“Yes,” Catherine said, after taking a deep breath. “We're here to look at secure storage.”
“Of course, of course. I'll take you right down.” Tim scrambled out of his chair, all but running for the downstairs door. “It's just down here. We've all taken a look at it, tried to see what made it tick, but I don't think there's anything actually magical about it. Sunder probably just goofed up.”
Kryptonite, Part Two
Agent Cinderstorm was a tall man, lanky and fit, with short black hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. He smiled wryly as the Magisters stepped off their plane, stepping forwards to shake hands. “Welcome to Detroit, everyone. I wish Danger Ace hadn’t sent you, though. There’s really nothing here worth your time.”
“Probably not, but we’ll take a look around anyway,” Catherine said after a moment. “Where are Turbine and Shatterdrive?”
Hello again
Welcome back, as 2012 starts off with a bang.
Apparently, part of the bang in question is in my archives, whose chapters are no longer in order. I'm working on it, and will hopefully have things back under control soon (?). In the mean time, well, there's only ten chapters, and they're numbered, so hopefully not a big problem. If anyone is super-savvy with WordPress, feel free to shoot me suggestions.
Kryptonite, Part One
“Good morning, Katy. How are things going? I haven't heard from you since before New Year's,” Oliver said, leaning back in his chair and spinning a pen around his free hand as he held his phone in the other. “How was yours, by the way?”
“You know damn well that human supremacists tried to assassinate the Lissann ambassador,” Director-General Lee said on the other end of the line. “I wound up in a chase across the Golden Gate Bridge, fought seventeen men, and called in an airstrike.”
“So, good night, then.”
“Yeah,” She chuckled, and then paused. “I have bad news, Oliver.”
Oliver sat up straighter. “They haven't made the decision in Jack's case already, have they?”
“No. That's still in the air. This is about Sam Redfern.”