The OK Team 2 by Nick Place

yeah,’ says Torch, looking uncomfortable. ‘It’s a very cool design of my finger shooting flame. Unfortunately I’m wearing sleeves today or I’d show it to you.’
    â€˜I’ve heard it’s quite something,’ says Southern Cross, straight-faced, and then he strides away.
    â€˜I really need help with the Hero media on this one, but Kyle won’t return my calls,’ says Cannonball.
    â€˜You’ll be right, Popgun,’ says Torch, putting an arm around Cannonball’s slumped shoulders. ‘An inquiry will just be for appearance’s sake. As a gesture for the head honchos in Gotham and for Channel 78737 to beam out, showing the incident has been dealt with. It will blow over.’
    Blow over. I can’t help myself and glance over at Cyclone Tracy’s table. She’s looking straight at me, and smiling. Poom! I involuntarily turn into a cloud as the others stand up.
    â€˜Oops,’ says Logi-Gal, lurching backwards as though she’s stepped in something icky. ‘Sorry Pancake Pete. I didn’t see you down there.’



CHAPTER 12
A DEATH IN THE FAMILY
    T he Northland Shopping Centre, long after closing time.
    The OK Team approaches the multi-level car park.
    â€˜What’s the G.O.?’ asks Torch, strutting.
    â€˜The what?’
    â€˜The G.O.’
    â€˜Game Operation?’ asks Cannonball.
    â€˜Gold Orders?’ asks Logi-Gal.
    â€˜Good Oil?’ I ask.
    â€˜Game On?’ suggests The Gamer.
    Torch looks uncomfortable. ‘Actually, I just meant “What’s the go?”’
    â€˜Then say that, Candle Head,’ says Cannonball. ‘Geez, where are you from? Los Angeles?’
    â€˜If that’s half a world from you, then I wish I was,’ snarls Torch.
    â€˜Ah the bickering begins – things have certainly returned to normal around here,’ says Logi-Gal.
    â€˜Children,’ I say, to break the tension. ‘There are bad guys up ahead. Any chance we could tune in?’
    â€˜Sure, what’s the G.O.?’ Torch gives Cannonball a defiant stare as he says it.
    â€˜I have N.O. idea,’ Cannonball sneers right back at him.
    â€˜Logi-Gal, give us an update,’ I say.
    â€˜The go is that we’re up against some familiar faces,’ Logi-Gal says. ‘Our friend, Bushranger and his team. All still claiming to be Category 1 or 2 so we should be more than equipped to handle them. In fact, Torch, you can’t use open flame on them and Cannonball, watch your strength.’
    â€˜I’m not hitting anybody,’ Cannonball says.
    â€˜Hang on a second,’ I say. ‘We’ve discussed this. Bushranger was too strong last time. His gang members were so-so, but Bushranger was dangerous beyond Catergory 2.’
    Torch shrugs. ‘Not in the middle of a shopping centre car park. What’s he going to attack us with? Pot plants?’
    â€˜Good point, Torch,’ I say. ‘Even so, they did get the better of us last time, so be on your game. Let’s make sure we nail these losers, and fast. Let’s be sharp and dazzle them with the OK Team’s collective might.’
    The others stare at me, except Cannonball who is looking at the sky. ‘Or we could sit back and just watch as he takes them out,’ he says, pointing as Southern Cross soars into the car park and lands Heroically on the far side of the parking bays.
    â€˜He might need help,’ I say weakly, wondering why we even bother. I put out my silver glove. ‘I’m okay!’
    Hands and gloves meet mine. ‘You’re okay!’ they reply.
    â€˜WE’RE OKAY!’
    Cannonball says, ‘I’m still not going to hit anyone. As long as we’re clear on that.’
    â€˜With the Cross in the house, Cannonball, you shouldn’t need to.’
    And Cannonball flies beside us as we run deeper into the car park.
    There are a couple of industrial bins near the