7.

Condolences

I knocked thrice, then stepped back and adjusted my tie.

Angela noticed. "You look fine."

I kept my eyes on the door. "You want me to say it back?"

"You’d never do this outfit justice.” Angela waved invitingly. "Though it never hurts to try."

I smirked. "You look nice, Angela."

“Mmm… six.” She didn’t look impressed.

I heard nearing footsteps as I replied. "So, passing grade?"

Our banter died as the door swung open. Angela always did what she could to maintain spirits,

but Susan Underwood's expression pulled them right back to earth.

Puffy red eyes, swollen cheeks and chappy lips suggested she hadn't stopped crying for weeks. Her

clothes were wrinkled and stained, and she supported herself uneasily against the doorframe. The

exhaustion on her face was... uncomfortable.

She looked broken.

"I'm sorry to intrude," I opened sombrely. "This is my assistant, Angela. I understand this is a very

difficult time for you, which is why I'd be happy to come along at a later--"

"No," she interrupted, with a quick, certain headshake. "No, come in. I'm sorry, I look terrible. It's

just been..."

"Nonsense," I jumped in as she trailed off. "An associate of mine recently lost a child as well. I have

no reference to what that's like, but it can't be easy. You being on your feet shows incredible strength."
 Her laugh was hollow. "Thanks."

Angela and I peeled off our shoes to follow her into the living room. A ring of couches sat around

a small television overlooking a carpet covered in action figures. Several were Heroes we allowed

companies (through costly licensing deals) to replicate.

However, as using Rogue activity for entertainment profit was illegal, the ‘villains’ interspersed

among them weren’t real.

I almost let my lip curl at the sight of Elise's model.

"Oh goodness," gasped Susan, scrambling to pick them up. "Just let me…"

"No worries," I replied, settling into an armchair.

Angela, on the other hand, bent over to help her while shooting me the evil eye.

"Hon?" barked a gruff voice from the top of the staircase. Tyler Underwood, its owner, registered

the scene and hurried down.

"Mr. Skies, I hadn’t realized you’d arrived.” He winced. “Sorry for the mess."

"As I told your wife, there’s no issue. I understand this is a difficult time for your family."

As Susan cleared the toys, Tyler summoned their two boys from upstairs. One was too young to

look anything but clueless. The other looked angry.

Driven.

That one intrigued me.

"Are you the Alpha Boss?" he asked as he climbed to the couch, then made an expression of

distaste at his brother settling in his mother’s lap.

 I made a so-so motion. "Depends on who you ask. Jasper, yes?"

He nodded. "I'm an Alpha. Can you hire me?"

"Jasper, now is not the time," growled his mother.

A smile tugged at my lips. "You look strong, but not yet."

"Are you going to catch the people who killed Sarah?"

"We’re going to try," I told him honestly. “That's why I'm here. Maybe by learning about Sarah, I

can learn why she was attacked."

"You think it was targeted?" interjected Tyler.

It was never pleasant to explain to a grieving couple that their daughter’s murder was

premeditated, but I figured a lie would do more harm. "Yes. The associate I mentioned earlier had a son

killed in the exact same way. We're still trying to understand the why."

"What do you have so far?" he asked.

"Roots," I explained, "but you only get fruit from a whole tree. The killer and accomplice have

partial IDs, but not much else.”

Jasper narrowed his eyes. "I want to kill him."

"Jasper!" snapped his mother.

I decided to let the parents handle that piece of errand thinking. Switching the focus back to

Sarah, I decided to start small. "What was she like?"

Susan went still, so Tyler piped up. "Kind. So kind. Too kind, really. She always wanted to help. I,

eh, was hosing the plants once, and a frog got caught in the spray. She refused to release it until I'd
apologized and spent the weekend nursing it back to health."

"She'd often miss the afternoon bus," Susan continued. "It was always something. Raising banners

for the book fair. Helping a classmate find a ribbon. Even staying with one of the boys in the infirmary

because he hurt his knee." Her voice broke. "Everyone loved her. They said one of the older students

tried teasing her. The entire class came after him. I just d-don't understand w-w-why they'd..."

Tyler placed a reassuring hand on her thigh while Jasper's eyes darkened. Skin hardened to

diamond across the back of his hand, filling the room with a crinkling noise.

"That's a fascinating power," I complimented.

Jasper snapped out of his reverie and attempted to scrape them away. Unfortunately, as skin

wasn't in the habit of just peeling off, he failed. "I'm sorry, I'm usually better. Sarah used..." He cleared

his throat. "She was better than me at it. She used to teach me."

"And what could Sarah do?"

"Granite, steel, agate," he recited. "She was faster, but I'm tougher. Sarah said it was because I’m

thickheaded."

I leaned forward, curious. "And what can you do?"

"Diamond, titanium and graphene."

"Graphene?" I whistled. "No wonder."

"It should've been me," he lamented frustratedly. "I could've taken the guy! She wasn't--"

"Jasper," I interrupted as metallic gray began to spread from his eyes. "Can I tell you a story?"

He hesitated, glancing at his mother for permission. "Okay."

 "I'm a blank. My parents, though, are very powerful Heroes. Do you know the Novas?"

His eyes widened. "Your dad is Prime Nova?!?"

"Yes."

"That must be awesome!"

I beat resentment down before it reached my face. "Sometimes. But other times, I felt... less. My

brother is special and strong, too. He was already Bishop-Class at sixteen. A few years before that,

though, he lost a fight. Badly. He was too confident and ambushed a Rogue that nearly killed him. Long

story short, he got out, but I had to make a four-hour drive to Connecticut to make sure he stayed out."

"Oh," said Jasper. "Was he okay?"

"Yes, thanks to the police officer who noticed how badly I was swerving and pulled us over. He got

us to the hospital in time. When my parents arrived, they ignored me. They praised him and said how

proud they were that he'd mustered the courage to go after a Rogue, even though I was the one who got

him to safety. I got... angry.

"My father asked the old boss of SWORD to have special soldiers watch Matthius, my brother,

while he and my mom finished their mission. I snuck into one of their vans and stole a few grenades,

then jumped back into my mother's car to finish the job. It went about as well as you'd expect. Tremor

beat me within inches of my life and was about to haul me away for ransom when my dad arrived and

saved me."

"Did you get in trouble?" Jasper asked, enraptured.

I laughed. "Not really, no. The beating I'd received was punishment enough. My dad wasn't really
even angry, just annoyed that I'd delayed him. He dropped me off at home, then didn't even bother

grounding me or anything. He just said if I got in trouble again, he'd leave me to my own devices."

"That's terrible," breathed Susan.

I shrugged. "Did the trick. Until I left home the next year. Point is that rushing into things is never

a good idea. I know the look in your eye because I've had it before. The frustration and helplessness. The

feeling that you could do something different if you were just given the opportunity. And you know

what? You might be right."

I leaned forward. "But more importantly, you're probably wrong. And if that's the case, you're not

going to be the only one who has to deal with it. Your mom and dad just lost their daughter. You're an

Alpha, Jasper. That means you have a responsibility to help people, just like your parents. And the best

way to do that now is to stay safe."

"Okay," he said quietly.

I paused to think, then waved him over.

"Try showing me diamond," I asked.

Jasper’s face scrunched up. A supernatural undulation rolled down from his head to his feet,

covering his body in transparent, crystalline stone.

"Very good," I applauded. "Titanium."

Three seconds later, the transparent, studded texture turned reflective, metal gray.

"And graphene?"

That took him twice as long, and he only managed to turn his forearms to the inky, slick black
surface before he deflated with exhaustion.

"Alright, that’s enough. Go lay down for a bit, then drink some water. Well done, Jasper."

Susan caught my eye and lifted the other boy off her lap. "Tim, go with him."

"What? But I wanna see the super man!"

"Tim," intoned his father gravely.

Tim scowled. "Fine!"

They scampered up the steps. I steepled my fingers as I waited for the sound of a door closing.

"Does Tim have powers?"

Tyler shook his head. "Sarah was a complete shock, let alone Jasper."

"I'll be frank," I told them. "Tim is in no danger. This killer seems intent on hunting young

Alphas. Unfortunately, though, that means Jasper still is. And based on the power level of this... hunter,

we can't protect him here."

"What are you saying?" growled Tyler.

"You have a choice. I understand separating from any of your children after what just happened is

the last thing you want to do, but he can't stay here. If they come back for him, we won't arrive in time."

"I am not giving my son to--"

"Quiet." I rose to my feet. Angela sensed my unease and did the same.

"Excuse me?" growled Tyler, rising as well. "I'm not sure who you think--"

"Is someone supposed to be on your roof?" I asked as I hit the panic button on my watch.

Tyler froze. "What?"

 "Didn't think so. Go."

Angela kicked off her shoes and raced up the stairs.

"She'll get your kids," I assured, motioning for them to follow me to the door. "But for now, we

need to get clear."

I double-tapped my earpiece, feeling stupid for having left the Droids in New York. "Gary, start

the car. We’ve got incoming and need evac."

The two followed me down the driveway to our Mercedes. I frowned. "Gary, do you read?"

No reply. That was strange. We were in the middle of the city, so the...

Fuck.

From my position in the driveway, I spotted Gary's head lolled back against his headrest, throat

slit. No wonder he couldn't answer the call.

I almost joined him. The knife trimmed the tips of my hair and continued, ramming into the side

of the Underwood’s Lexus. My attacker packed enough power to punch through the van's metal and

shove it into a small garden.

I ignored Susan's screaming to unholster the nine-millimetre resting in my jacket pocket and put

two rounds through the back of my assailant's knee. Alpha attackers were always tough, so I grabbed his

head and smashed it through the window.

Just to be sure.

He crumpled like cardboard in a crusher.

"You’ve gotta be shitting me!" Tyler moaned, gaping at the damage to his car.
 A shadow fell over us, so I shoved him back while rolling away from the aerial assault of a second

hostile. This one's fist went completely through the driveway.

Lovely.

My Scattato XC contained 20 rounds per mag. Four pinged off the Rogue's sleek pauldron.

Modified Kevlar, by the looks of it. Intimidating, until I noticed the gaps in the wrists, ankles, and neck.

No helmet, either.

Ballsy, I commended silently, reaching into my waistband.

His attack came far too fast to be anything but Alpha. Flat feet would've got me pulverized.

Good thing I could be shifty, too.

I slipped wide of the jab and stabbed my knife into his extended wrist. It didn't get through more

than a couple inches, but the shock stopped him cold. Long enough, in fact, for me to twist the handle,

activating a thermal pad in the metal.

I wasn’t surprised to hear the weapon hiss angrily. Heating to two thousand Kelvin had to be at

least a little uncomfortable.

Now uninhibited by superhuman toughness, I dragged my blade through his arm. I rotated

against the shoulder to wedge leverage on the joint and brought the elbow down hard on my knee.

His scream went up at least nine octaves as the bone snapped with a wet crunch. I dislodged my

knife, kicked him back and shot him seven times in the head, careful to avoid the eyes and nose. As

expected, the bullets cut through his skin but couldn't penetrate the skull. Not that I wanted to kill him.

I'd need them for questioning.

 He toppled over, eyes distant as he fought to retain consciousness. I rolled my eyes, then spent the

rest of the mag lulling him to sleep.

I used my right hand to switch comm channels and my left to reload. "Angela, sit-rep."

"One second," she replied, then the window above us shattered.

The Rogue flying through it glided over the driveway and crashed halfway across the street.

Angela glanced out to check he was still on his back, then waved to someone behind her.

The boys stampeded through the front door a minute later. Jasper was in full diamond, standing

protectively in front of his younger brother.

Tyler and Susan rushed to their children while two other bodies fell from the second floor,

splatting to the asphalt around me. Angela vaulted out afterwards, though she landed gracefully.

"You okay?" she asked, noticing my former aggressors.

I nodded. "They never expect competence. Recognize any?"

She shook her head. "Gear and spread smell military, but I haven’t got IDs to prove.”

"Great," I sighed. "Now we-- DOWN!"

An important lesson gleaned from law enforcement courses is that shouting an order at a civilian

crowd will result in one of two things. One, they listen. Two, they freeze as their brain processes it.

The Underwoods did the latter, though Jasper's heightened reflexes allowed him to recover

quickest. Regardless, I just wanted to be sure they stayed put as the first Rogue Angela’d thrown was on

his feet and crouched to charge.

My pistol tagged four separate areas of his head. It hurt, no doubt, and the Rogue probably
thought that was as bad as things could get.

Then Angela arrived.

His kick passed harmlessly through her intangible legs; then his head snapped violently backward

from her very tangible fist. Angela offered no reprieve as her foot stomped down on his chest, burying

him in the street and collapsing several ribs.

"Everyone alright?" I asked, glancing over at the family.

Tyler quickly looked over his children and nodded. "Yes. Yes, we're okay. Thank you. God, thank

you so--"

"Easy. Take a breath, Mr. Underwood." I holstered my weapons. "SWORD will cover the

damages. How about you two go back in the house while we give the surroundings a quick sweep?"

There was no need. My men and drones would already be combing the neighbourhood down,

but I wanted them out of the way. He nodded, waving his family back inside.

Before he could follow, though, I put a hand on his shoulder. "A word?"

Tyler kissed Susan reassuringly, then followed me over to a secluded corner near his totalled van.

"I don't know who those men were," I began. "We're not sure what they want, and you saw their

powers. I'm not trying to steal your kid, but his safety is both of our primary concerns." I produced a

contact card from my breast pocket. "Sleep on it?"

He looked down at the paper in my hand, gritting his teeth before finally relenting.

"You have to keep him safe. Please."

I nodded. "We have a training facility just an hour off base. He'll be okay."
 Tyler nodded tiredly. "I'll speak to Susan."

Angela waited for him to rejoin his family before coming up on my right. "They weren't here for

the kid."

I looked at her. "What?"

"I got there too late. The three from the roof slipped in through windows. One of them led to

Jasper's room. The Rogue looked him dead in the eye and walked right past, which is where we met."

This time, my eyes were wide. "Then..."

"They killed our driver. Fought me in retreat, like I was in the way. Then they ignore both

Underwoods to specifically try to come for you. All lethal advances."

"They wanted me?"

My statement came out in a disbelieving laugh. With everything going on right now, my own

safety was barely an afterthought. Internally, I knew my position as Director made me a target, but the

idea that someone would actively send Rogues to assassinate me in broad daylight was, well, laughably

absurd.

"We need to get you back to the Sheath." She turned to make for the house. "I'll tell the

Underwoods."

"No."

Angela frowned. "Boss, if they're coming after you, Jasper doesn't--"

"Stand down."

Anger replaced her confusion. "You can't be serious. After all this, you're going to lie--"
 "Jasper is still in danger. We don't know who these men are, and we don't have the means to keep

Jasper alive if he's in Pennsylvania. I didn't lie."

Angela's posture squared. The definition in her skin and eyes sharpened, a sign she'd increased her

atomic density.

"You better know what you're doing," she snarled before spinning and stalking away.

I turned back to the house. Jasper skipped out of it, sporting a fashionable Lightning McQueen

backpack. Tyler followed, lugging a travelling bag down the porch steps. Susan had Tim in her arms,

shaking with the effort of holding back tears.

"So do I," I muttered. "So do I, Angela."

***

Travis did not want to interrupt. He wanted to stay as far from that godforsaken room as he could

get, but of course, it wasn’t up to him.

If he found out that information was withheld from him, Travis would suffer a far worse fate.

Three knocks, he told himself. If no one answers in three knocks, I'll leave.

Travis hadn’t even reached the door before a booming voice barked, "What?"

Dammit! "News came in, sir. Thought, uh--" Travis cleared his throat. "Thought you might want

to hear it."

"Come in."

Travis obeyed.
 Floodgates, still recovering from his altercation with Blacklight, sat in the back of the room,

picking at the cast on his arm. A few other Rogues Travis knew by heart but didn't dare meet in the eye

populated the office.

All stared right at the floor.

Even Plague, one of the strongest Alphas on the planet.

All because of the monster behind the desk.

"You had something to say?"

"Yes, sir. We got word from our men on the mainland. Skies survived."

He could taste the fear from the crowd around him. Failure, open and admitted, was grounds for

execution. And given the breadth of power he commanded; others could get caught in the crossfire.

Would, actually, if Travis tried to run.

"Is he injured?" rumbled the Boss.

Travis shook his head. "They don't think so. He fought off two while his bodyguard took three.

Four survived and will be taken into questioning."

"We can't have that," sighed the Boss. "What do you suggest, Trevor?"

Travis hesitated. "I defer to your better judgment, sir."

"And my judgment requires your opinion. Talk."

Travis swallowed. "We need to clam them up. We can't afford to be seen now, especially if

SWORD catches wind."

"Why is that?" chuckled the Boss.

 Travis licked his lips. "We're not ready. For the final stages yet. We still need--"

"Are you suggesting, Thomas, that we're not powerful enough to survive SWORD, led, for your

information, by a blank?"

"N-no, sir, of course not. Strength isn't the issue. No one is as strong as you."

"Obviously, so why?"

"Positioning. We still have a few more loose ends to tie up before the final act."

The Boss nodded sombrely. "LA isn't the final act. It's only the beginning."

Travis lowered his head subserviently. "Too right, sir. As I said, your reasoning is flawless."

"You excel at bootlicking, Tristan, but apparently not plan-making."

The laughs were muffled enough for Travis to ignore his embarrassment. Everyone was too afraid

to stand out. He continued unperturbed.

"Either we extract or execute. But time is running out, so execution is likely our best bet."

"And how would you go about that?"

"We have contacts," said Travis. "Part of the system is compromised from the Denver purge, but

New York remains operational."

"Who would you call?"

Travis frowned pensively. "Dead Cell is on standby after Blacklight caught Floodgates. We could

use him."

Floodgates grimaced as the Boss shot him a mocking look.

"Make the arrangements."

 Travis nodded and turned to flee.

"Oh, and Travis?"

He stilled, feeling his body go cold. "Sir?"

"You're an Alpha. Act like one. Twitching like an insect every time you speak to me is

unbecoming. More importantly, it fucking annoys me. Gain confidence, or I will kill you."

Travis tried and failed miserably to swallow the lump in his throat. "Of course, sir."

Then he ran.