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Test Subject 1102, code-named “Alpha”
Iridium looked down at Wrigley Field. The top deck was open to the air, unusual in a city bathed in smog and raining superpowered criminals from the sky.
Iridium had never seen a baseball game. Lester had told her sports were for simpletons. Lester had said a lot of things, like, Trust me, girl, everything will be fine. That had been as they’d walked out of Blackbird and into Gordon’s waiting arms.
Callie sighed. She loved her father, and she knew he was brilliant, unshakable, brave, and had a razor-sharp sense of justice. But he was also an idiot if he thought that he controlled the situation with Gordon. As if he could control it, with only rabids at his side. If they were going to put Corp down for good, they needed real help.
And that was why she’d stormed out of her own warehouse, looking for superheroes.
A chill stole over Iridium’s skin even though hot smoke from dozens of fires still singed the air. She snapped her head up and there was Jet, descending on a column of Shadow like a regular dark angel.
Iridium gave her a nod. “Nice entrance.”
Jet stiffened. “Thanks,” she said tightly. Her blond captive, wrapped in Shadow creepers, tumbled to the ground, as if Jet’s concentration had slipped. “What are you up to, Iridium?”
Iridium sniffed. “Thought I’d catch a ball game.”
Jet frowned at her as she reeled the prone figure, whom Iridium recognized as Bombshell—private name, “That crazy bitch, Bombshell”—back to her side. Jet said, “Really?”
Iridium smiled. “What, you’d rather I’d come to pick a fight?”
Jet’s frown deepened. “I don’t have time for this, Iridium. Enjoy your ball game.”
“Aw, aren’t you going to invite me to your secret clubhouse?” Iridium smiled when she saw Jet twitch.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Shadow power said stiffly.
“You, Steele, Firebug, Hornblower, Frostbite, and Ops. New Ops. Not freaky brainwashing Ops. You guys set up shop here.” Iridium took a step closer, risking a fight. If Jet knocked her on her ass, the mission was over and Iridium would have to deal with Gordon herself.
But Jet hesitated. She always did when things didn’t go according to plan.
Iridium laughed softly. “I still know you.”
Jet’s optiframes irised, as if she were blinking.
“Look, Jettikins, are you going to invite me in or not? It smells up here.”
“How do you know about Squadron HQ?”
Iridium crossed her arms and set grin to Smug. “Derek told me.”
Far from being the flustered mess Iridium had expected, Jet let creepers explode from every plane of her body before snapping them back just as quickly.
Jet pushed up her optiframes and glared at Iridium. She snarled, “Frostbite compromised us to criminals?”
“Okay, first, I’m not a criminal anymore, as there’s no Corp to have me convicted and the real law has bigger problems. And second, Derek and I are friends. We trust one another with basic information.”
Well, that had shut her up. Iridium looked her former partner in the eye, saw the deep blue rings underneath. Saw bones under Jet’s skinsuit and new lines around her mouth.
“How are you holding up, Joannie?”
“Do not use my name, Iridium. We are not friends.”
Iridium shrugged. “Just making small talk.”
Jet huffed, “I haven’t slept in days, the city is falling apart, it’s taking forever to rein in all the rabids, and to top things off, this silly wannabe—” she shook Bombshell—“firebombed the Everyman regional headquarters, and she won’t tell me who put her up to it.”
“Go to hell,” Bombshell sneered. “I know you won’t dirty your hands on me, Shadow Puppet.”
Iridium snapped her hand out and grabbed Bombshell by the front of her costume. Sweaty and sooty. Great.
Jet’s creepers retreated from the light-heat around her grip. Bombshell let out a yelp. “The hell! I have rights, yanno!”
“Not with me, you don’t.” Iridium used her superior height to walk the other woman backward, rapid time, until Bombshell’s back was pressed against the railing of the upper deck.
“I’m not a hero,” Iridium said. “I don’t know or care why you did what you did. But Jet wants to know.” She leaned close to Bombshell’s face. “You have one chance to tell her.”
“Iridium …” Jet said in a tone Iridium knew all too well. The Can it before we get into trouble tone.
“Fuck you, Snow White!” Bombshell spat. “I ain’t going to say shit! I ain’t—”
Iridium tipped her over the railing.
Bombshell let out a truly operatic shriek as she dangled, Iridium’s hand knotted in her cheap plastic skinsuit the only thing keeping her