may need a hostage.”
“So we’re really gonna off her, then?”
“Eh. I’m not going to go out of my way, but if she’s killed in the machine . . . well, what can you do?”
They carried their conversation out while walking, discussing the details of their plan to hook the shoes up to the contraption—with
Lydia still in them—as they exited the room. All the while, Nikko seethed and struggled, and planned his revenge.
Because nobody— nobody —was hurting his Lydia.
And he really needed to save New York, too.
Fortunately for New York, Lydia, and the whole free world, the grogginess from the teleportation lag wore off quickly. Not
enough for Nikko to get across the room before the door slammed shut behind Ruthless, but still fast.
The downside, of course, was that he was locked in a small room, his body pressed against a concrete pillar, his wrists bound
tight behind him with Protector-rated cuffs, and Lydia in danger on the far side of that door.
The good news was that the tracker embedded in his skin should have been activated during teleportation, which meant that
the full weight of the Council ought to descend on this place any moment.
Then again, he’d been here for a few minutes already, and as far as he could tell, an epic battle wasn’t taking place beyond
those doors. Either the tracker had malfunctioned, or Ruthless’s lair was somehow shielded. Either way, there was no way for
him to remedy the situation with both hands tied behind his back.
Time to do something about that . . . if he could.
He looked around the room, but it was completely empty: not a single piece of furniture, not a single rivet on a wall. Simply
the concrete post he was tied to, his arms thrust behind him, and his wrists bound.
The post, however, was somewhat narrow, and if he shifted a bit . . .
Yes . He could still feel it. They’d left his phone in his back pocket. All he had to do was scoot around to the left and see
if he could—
Got it!
The problem, of course, was what to do with it now that he had it. Finding the buttons by feel only, he tried the communication
feature first, but as he suspected, the room was shielded. The level of shielding suggested by the high-pitched response emitted
from his device told Nikko that there’d be no help from the Council unless he could figure out a way to poke a hole in Ruthless’s
defense. And that , unfortunately, was a very dicey proposition without knowing the layout.
Which meant that his first priority was to find Lydia and stop the completion of the device, then get her the hell out of
there. He would stay behind and try to jam whatever interference device Ruthless had installed.
In the meantime, without communication, the phone was useful only as a weapon, and he was currently running short on ammo,
with only two laser powerpacks embedded in the device. He could use one to take out the column he was bound to, but that seemed
a bit reckless considering he couldn’t get a good look at the column to judge its density.
Better to aim the laser straight for his bonds. He might blow his hands off, true; but if luck was on his side, he’d simply
blow open the binders. And at the moment, Nikko didn’t see another option. Time was ticking down. Lydia was in danger. And
as she’d pointed out with such insight, he was all about saving mortals.
He smiled, realizing how well she’d put his own thoughts into words, and how she’d justified and validated his decisions,
even if the Council had disagreed.
Yes, she was a mortal. But she was a superhero, too. As much as he was. And right then, he was determined to save her.
He fumbled, trying to get the device in place, and almost dropping it in the process. Then he got the dangerous end lined
up with the binders, tugged his other wrist as far away as humanly (well, as Protectorly ) as possible, took a deep breath, and pressed the trigger.
A burst of heat, and he winced as pain shot
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