better served in NYC or LA. Personally, I think she just wants to go somewhere with more paparazzi, because it’s not like Chicago doesn’t have water. In fact, if what Teddy said is true, her powers could’ve helped save those people pulled out of the river; instead, she was helping the Warriors rescue Bridgette and me. If this Anti-Hero siege continues attacking in multiple places at the same time, it will be harder for the heroes to be effective, forcing them to split up, which ultimately makes them weaker. “We always save the day; I’m not worried.”
Millie continues. “Our team found some want ads plastered in various youth-oriented establishments, looking to assemble those desperate to use their abilities. A lot of these hopefuls don’t have a great grasp on how to control their powers, and rather than having their night vision or telepathy go to waste, they are joining the siege.”
I look over at Joy, who’s stayed silent throughout. She’s pale as a ghost, and her big blue eyes barely blink, hands balled into fists on the table.
“How many do you think there are?” Earthquake asks.
“Unclear at this time. But we’re bringing in backup security surveillance to start monitoring for patterns and clues.” Millie takes a beat, looking down at the podium. Her normally perfect gray bob is slightly disheveled, her pantsuit in need of a good ironing. “The press is already having a field day with these bodies in the river. We are getting slammed for not having any hero presence at the scene.” She grits her teeth, white knuckles clenching the edge of the podium. “If you are approached by the media, the official Warrior Nation position is that we are aware of the siege and have already successfully thwarted at least one attack. In fact, Claire, Bridgette: I’d be happy to schedule a press conference so the two of you can share any personal positive anecdotes about the strength and determination of our heroes.”
“Pass,” Bridgette says under her breath.
“Um, no thanks,” I add, not particularly interested in sharing my trauma on television. “But there was something I wanted to note, since we’re all here. Did anyone get a good look at that guy wearing the black helmet? He seemed like maybe he was in charge of the other villains.”
Millie’s face hardens, as Teddy bristles at her side. This whole time he’s been furiously taking notes, but now he’s frozen, glaring at me with his beady little eyes.
“We have no reason to believe the Anti-Heroes have a leader at this point,” she says. “All their crimes have been completely random without any connecting factors.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, shifting uncomfortably under Teddy’s stare. Ugh, what is his problem? I feel like anytime I say anything to Millie he takes it as a personal offense, like we’re competing to be the favorite child. It’s so stupid. “He just seemed different from the others. He specifically said not to hurt us.”
Teddy pulls at his shirt collar and clears his throat, excusing himself from the room. I’ve never—ever—seen him leave a meeting early; he’s usually the first one in and last one out. Millie watches him with a close eye before continuing. “Noted. Anyone else have anything to add? Mr. Rodriguez, you’ve been uncharacteristically quiet.”
All eyes turn to Vaporizer, who has been fixated on Bridgette the entire time. “Huh? Oh, nothing.”
“Fine. Good work today. You’re excused.”
As everyone stands and starts to leave, Roy Masterson suddenly bursts into the room, looking completely bewildered, like he’s been lost in a hedge maze for hours. “Oh, apologies, all!” he blusters, smoothing down the front of his rumpled tie. “What did I miss? Is everyone okay?”
I catch a glimpse of Millie, working hard to keep her facial features in check, although she’s clearly a step away from steam coming out of her ears. “It’s fine, Mr. Masterson. I handled the debriefing. I’ll get you caught up.”
“Wonderful, Millie; you’re a real peach!” Roy beams, hands on his hips. “And thanks to you all for another rousing success at keeping this beautiful city safe!” While he clearly missed the memo on what went down last night, his positivity is helpful, even if slightly misplaced. Mr. Know-It-All eagerly shakes hands with everyone leaving the room, and I try to get to Bridgette, hoping to thank her for keeping me calm while we were tied to that chair, and to make sure she’s okay. Clearly she’s been through this before, and I can’t tell if that debriefing was truly unsettling