enough to drive anyone insane.
“Fuck it,” I whispered to the empty air around me. “I’m doing this for me.”
I tilted my head back and looked at the top of the Paulus Building, rising up higher than the surrounding structures. The late afternoon sunlight gleamed off the Double G affixed to one corner of the roof, illuminating the team’s symbol for all to see. There were people in that building that would be perfectly happy to send me back to prison and plasma-weld my cell door closed. But there were also people who thought that I could be more than the muscle for a demented super-criminal.
One of whom was far too excited about being my dorm neighbor.
When I got back to the lobby, the place was empty and quiet. Joelle worked behind her desk, writing with three hands and rubbing the back of her neck with a fourth. The dent Mechanix had put in the wall (with my assistance) was still there, but the receptionist’s desk had been repaired to its previous luster.
The brunette peered at me over the tops of her glasses, this time with a look that was less accusatory and more … accepting. “Good afternoon, Miss Hashimoto. I have some things for you.”
I detoured from my path to the elevators and headed to the desk. Joelle placed a small manila envelope on top and a clipboard beside it. The document it held seemed to be several dozen pages in length.
“What’s this,” I asked as I picked up the envelope.
“A temporary key card that will get you into the building after-hours and operates the team elevator up to headquarters. You won’t need it once Daniel puts your biometrics into the system. The contract is the standard hero by-laws as established by EAPF Regulations 17.1.Alpha.3 and 17.1.Alpha.5.”
I arched a brow, flipping through the pages of legalese. “Sorry, I don’t think I’m familiar with those rules.”
She smiled at me the way you’d smile at an idiot who hasn’t mastered the complex intricacies of doorknob operation. “Basically, Alpha.3 says that registered heroes are responsible for ensuring the public good at all times, regardless of any team-established duty hours. Alpha.5 says that the penalties for registered heroes who commit a crime are to be doubled in severity.” That condescending grin widened. “So I’d keep my nose clean if I were you, Miss Hashimoto.” One slender finger tapped on the clipboard. “If you would be so kind as to sign the last page, I can get this processed and go home.”
I picked up the pen and placed it on the line. Before I could scribble my name, however, the girl cleared her throat. “Your legal name, if you please, Miss Hashimoto.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “We’re not going to be friends, are we, Joelle?” I signed my birth name to the document and slid the clipboard back to her.
“Considering that your former boss is responsible for the death of a friend of mine, probably not.” She steepled six sets of fingers beneath her chin and regarded me coolly. “Though, I might be willing to buy you lunch if you’ll drag his ass to the Max and leave him there to rot.”
I scooped up the envelope and shook out the hard plastic card within. “He’d be out in less than an hour, Joelle, and pissed-off beyond belief.”
“Let him be pissed. Is that really such a bad thing?” The amusement in her voice told me that despite her occupation, she had no idea what kind of a person Martin really was.
“No, it’s not a bad thing. It’s the worst thing.” I turned and walked to the elevator. Expecting a parting shot, I was surprised when I climbed into the car without another word from her. The doors slid closed and I zoomed up to meet with my new teammates.
Since Alexis had been the most excited about my recruitment, I half-expected her to be waiting by the elevator when the doors opened. Instead, Rocket stood there with his arms across his chest and a scowl plastered on his face. For a second, I thought I was going to have to push past him.
“Fuck it,” I whispered to the empty air around me. “I’m doing this for me.”
I tilted my head back and looked at the top of the Paulus Building, rising up higher than the surrounding structures. The late afternoon sunlight gleamed off the Double G affixed to one corner of the roof, illuminating the team’s symbol for all to see. There were people in that building that would be perfectly happy to send me back to prison and plasma-weld my cell door closed. But there were also people who thought that I could be more than the muscle for a demented super-criminal.
One of whom was far too excited about being my dorm neighbor.
When I got back to the lobby, the place was empty and quiet. Joelle worked behind her desk, writing with three hands and rubbing the back of her neck with a fourth. The dent Mechanix had put in the wall (with my assistance) was still there, but the receptionist’s desk had been repaired to its previous luster.
The brunette peered at me over the tops of her glasses, this time with a look that was less accusatory and more … accepting. “Good afternoon, Miss Hashimoto. I have some things for you.”
I detoured from my path to the elevators and headed to the desk. Joelle placed a small manila envelope on top and a clipboard beside it. The document it held seemed to be several dozen pages in length.
“What’s this,” I asked as I picked up the envelope.
“A temporary key card that will get you into the building after-hours and operates the team elevator up to headquarters. You won’t need it once Daniel puts your biometrics into the system. The contract is the standard hero by-laws as established by EAPF Regulations 17.1.Alpha.3 and 17.1.Alpha.5.”
I arched a brow, flipping through the pages of legalese. “Sorry, I don’t think I’m familiar with those rules.”
She smiled at me the way you’d smile at an idiot who hasn’t mastered the complex intricacies of doorknob operation. “Basically, Alpha.3 says that registered heroes are responsible for ensuring the public good at all times, regardless of any team-established duty hours. Alpha.5 says that the penalties for registered heroes who commit a crime are to be doubled in severity.” That condescending grin widened. “So I’d keep my nose clean if I were you, Miss Hashimoto.” One slender finger tapped on the clipboard. “If you would be so kind as to sign the last page, I can get this processed and go home.”
I picked up the pen and placed it on the line. Before I could scribble my name, however, the girl cleared her throat. “Your legal name, if you please, Miss Hashimoto.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “We’re not going to be friends, are we, Joelle?” I signed my birth name to the document and slid the clipboard back to her.
“Considering that your former boss is responsible for the death of a friend of mine, probably not.” She steepled six sets of fingers beneath her chin and regarded me coolly. “Though, I might be willing to buy you lunch if you’ll drag his ass to the Max and leave him there to rot.”
I scooped up the envelope and shook out the hard plastic card within. “He’d be out in less than an hour, Joelle, and pissed-off beyond belief.”
“Let him be pissed. Is that really such a bad thing?” The amusement in her voice told me that despite her occupation, she had no idea what kind of a person Martin really was.
“No, it’s not a bad thing. It’s the worst thing.” I turned and walked to the elevator. Expecting a parting shot, I was surprised when I climbed into the car without another word from her. The doors slid closed and I zoomed up to meet with my new teammates.
Since Alexis had been the most excited about my recruitment, I half-expected her to be waiting by the elevator when the doors opened. Instead, Rocket stood there with his arms across his chest and a scowl plastered on his face. For a second, I thought I was going to have to push past him.
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