Chapter 28: The Birth of the New Spy Squad
Jenna
Wow, talk about a rough night. I definitely have to give major props to Grease for getting us out of there, although I'm not entirely sure how it happened. All I remember is that green gas clouding my vision after The Jester did a number on Richie. But strangely enough, I woke up today in my bed. Even stranger, I woke up to screaming.
See I'm not much of a morning person, so when I first heard the screaming, I didn't exactly hear it. It took a second to register; okay fine, a minute, but this warrior needs her beauty sleep.
By the time I stumbled out of my room, everyone was already outside and staring into Brianna's room. With Richie and Mitchell towering in the door frame, I couldn't see what was wrong, but it obviously wasn't major because weapons weren't flying, at least not yet.
Once I knocked Mitchell out of my way, I caught sight of a terrified Brianna, who cuddled her knees on her bed and looked worriedly around the room. I pushed aside various floating items as I made my way into her room. This should sound weird, but with Brianna and that damn headband that she never takes off, is was just another fix for Grease. I gingerly sat next to her quivering frame while everyone else stood in the doorway and watched like the confused neanderthals they are.
I'm not exactly sure how this "comforting" thing works, but when I tried to rest my hand on Brianna's shoulder, just to get her attention, she quickly recoiled and continued to stare into empty space. I stared down the entourage, trying to signal them to help me, but no one would budge. Looks like I'm own my own.
"Brianna," I implored as kindly as possible, " I need you to tell me what's wrong."
I gave her a remarkable generous (at least for me) two minutes to respond, but nothing came. Similarly, my useless team looked as dead as the girl cowering in fear.
"Brianna, it's me. You're safe. I understand you're scared, but you need to show me what you're scared of"
Still, the room sat dead silent. So, it looks like Diplomatic Jenna isn't working (I hate her); time for a more familiar approach.
"Brianna, I swear if you don't say something in the next two seconds I will go all The Godfather on you"
Slowly, she turned her head and stared me dead in the eyes, only it wasn't normally curious and sparkling brown eyes I looked back at, it was pure confusion.
"I'm not doing this," she whispered, as single tear streamed down her face.
If anyone was coming to their senses, they were surely back to square one.
"Brianna, what do you mean you aren't doing this?"
"I mean, I'm not controlling this!" She said with an expression full gesture at everything.
I worriedly glanced around at the various floating objects, noticing how now they weren't just floating; they were violently bouncing, responding to her anger and confusion.
"Yes you are," I responded forcefully, " You need to relax, calm your mind, and let us help you."
She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. One by one, the objects fell to the floor.
Brianna scanned the room with a rattling breath. "I... I don't understand?"
Now that the emotions had left, I understood Brianna's confusion: on top of her head sat no headband.
And with that, I saw exactly how strange the entire situation was.
Other than things floating that shouldn't be, my friends still stood, flabbergasted (I love that word), in the doorway. Even stranger, Richie was dressed in a tank top and underwear which showed off a tourniquet on his right thigh which was soaked in red: blood. As if that wasn't weird enough, he firmly gripped a glowing purple sword and shield. Since when did he have a sword and shield?! Why don't I have a sword and shield?!
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do next: roast Richie for wearing polka dot underwear, rush him to the infirmary, or ask about the shiny Sparta cosplay?" I blurted frankly, trying to hold back my laughter as this is a serious situation of trouble. That's sarcasm in case you couldn't tell.
Obviously confused, Richie stared down. A look of mortification and confusion crossed his face in a matter of seconds.
Before he could find some witty retort, someone screamed from the back of the crowd. "What in the name of Phillips screwdriver are you doing?!" Grease knocked aside Mitchell and Zach until she stood face to face with Richie (well, face to chest. The height difference made the situation that much better). "Your leg!"
"I'm fine" he claimed, just before collapsing on top of Grease. She carefully eased him down against the door frame before turning to us.
"Grease what happened after the gas last night?" Zach questioned, nervously.
Trying to hide her emotions, she laid it on thick with the sugar coating. "I knocked out The Circus, loaded you guys on the Squad jet, and blew the building."
"So, The Circus is gone then?" Mitchell asked.
"Are we not going to talk about this?!" yelled Richie, "Brianna can move things with her mind without her headband, I was holding a freaking glowing sword, and you guys want to question Grease on how she saved our lives?"
A cloud of solemnity and contemplation fell over the room, silencing everyone once again.
"I know what is causing this," Mitchell said shyly, "definitely for Richie and possibly for the rest of us."
We stood idly by as Mitchell struggled to explain the serum to us.
"When The Jester took me, she held me in the bunker you guys found me in, but while you were searching for me, they ran experiments on us. She injected different things into me; one made me feel extremely weak but revived at the same time. I think all of you ingested the same toxin as me"
"So how does that," Brianna asked pointedly, "relate to all this?"
"After The Jester poisoned me, she said 'This is the serum, Mitchell. Marvelous, isn't it? It flows to the frontal lobe and adapts itself to super humanize what makes you human. Dependent on one's personality, it can do incredible things'. I think I get it now"
"Can you stop beating around the bush and answer the damn question or not." I stated, trying to push this conversation along.
Mitchell sighed heavily, "The serum enhanced our best traits, skills, and abilities."
Wow, was not expecting that! Richie did his ridicule-ish laugh, a small exhale from his nostrils, and pushed himself off of the ground despite Grease's protests. "What are you saying? We have superpowers?" he asked rhetorically, most likely hoping for Mitchell to correct him.
To his dismay, Mitchell shamefully nodded his head in agreement.
"Cool!" Zach said with a growing grin.
"No, not cool!" Brianna quickly corrected.
"I agree, this could be dangerous" Richie cautioned, examining his hands as he slowly turned the over.
"So Brianna can lift things without my tech and Richie can summon third century weapons? What about the rest of us?" Grease asked, annoyed.
"I honestly don't know, I don't even know myself" Mitchell said, hanging his head in disappointment.
"Soooo? When do we get our names and costumes?!" Zach asked, jumping to the front of the crowd.
"I swear if anyone gives me a stupid name or leggings to wear-" I began before Richie rudely interrupted my threat.
"No one is getting identities or costumes! We are not superheroes! I am going to find a cure for this and we are going continue our normal lives as teenage spies" Richie yelled, throwing his hands up in exasperation. But he quickly fell into the doorframe as his leg began to violently shake.
"Which you cannot do if you bleed out, so you can get to the infirmary by walking next to me or by me dragging you unconscious body through the halls. Your choice." Grease stated fiercely. Before he could respond, Grease was already pushing him out the door. He jumped back into view, yelled "This isn't over!" before disappearing down the hall with Grease who was angrily grumbling about how she hates doctor's offices.
The remaining four of us stood awkwardly in the room, afraid to continue the conversation.
"Well this was fun..." Mitchell finally began, spurring everyone else awake.
"Hardly" Brianna commented. She threw herself back, digging deep into her pillows. "I'd hate to be impolite..." she started, " who am I kidding? It's still dark out, leave!"
I pushed Mitchell and Zach out, glancing at the clock as I followed. In bright green, the clock read 1:37 AM. 1:37 AM?! That's twelve hours before I'd ever wake up.
"Try to keep the screaming to a minimum!" I yelled, before closing Brianna's door.
Zach and Mitchell were already down the hall, sluggishly stumbling towards their rooms. "I wonder what I can do?" Zach said wistfully, before slamming his door shut.
Honestly, superpowers? The Jester probably injected us with some virus and those are the side effects. Superpowers? Please. Call me when you get back to reality.
I strode into my room, closing the door behind me as I came in. The door swung closed, but I guess I didn't realize how much effort I put into it. A loud crack echoed through the room, making me cover my ears from the sudden noise, especially when I'm half asleep already. Guess I don't know my own strength.
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Well, all's right in the world: I got my full 12 hours of sleep, no strange powers started throwing things around my room, and, most importantly, no annoying screams startled me awake. Actually, that last one is a little iffy. See, it isn't wrong, but someone did wake me up.
I was going to get up, honestly, but sometimes it's nice to lay in bed with your eyes closed and not worry about life. That is until Richie begins whispering in your ear, "Jenna? Jennaaa?"
Half asleep, I tried to slug Richie in the stomach: a warning shot for waking me up when I didn't want to. Lucky for him, he has fast reflexes. So instead of teaching him a lesson, I punched the corner of my desk clean off, sending it flying out the door. Richie grabbed at my hands, examining them closely. His eyebrows ferreted in concerned. "Are you okay?!"
"No," I quickly responded. I angrily ripped my hands away and lazily turned over in the bed, pulling my blanket and pillow with me. "How many times do I have to tell you people I am not a morning person?"
He gripped my shoulder, pulling me back to face him. I swear this kid is begging for a good punch to the face.
"Jenna, you shattered solid wood!" he exclaimed, stupidly pointing at the obvious crater in the desk.
It may be two in the afternoon but first of all, it is always too early to be making subtle hints at me, and second, this boy just woke me up and expects my brain to be functioning. Ridiculous.
"Congrats Boy Wonder, you've found out I'm strong!" I sasses, angrily pulling a pillow over my head in a last ditch effort to drown out his incredibly annoying, yet cute, voice. "Would you like to run one of your tests to find exactly how strong I am? A jab to the face should be sufficient." I mumbled beneath the sheets that were piled on top of me.
"Jenna!" he yelled, ripping the sheets off from on top of me.
Too lazy and annoyed to give a response, I blindly pitched a pillow at him. He ducked in time to miss a solid hit to the face. Dammit.
"You. Shattered. Solid. Wood!" he stubbornly yelled, pulling at me like a child on Christmas morning.
I waited for him to finish. I also waited for him to enjoy the last few seconds of having working vocal chords! Deep breaths Jenna, deep breaths.
"Five minutes," I said calmly, doing my best to count to ten and not explode on the one person I actually respect ( if you ever tell him, I swear I will kill you). "Give me five minutes and then we can talk."
He opened his mouth in protest. But must've seen the futility in arguing with someone as stubborn and pissed off as me. He heaved a heavy sigh as let me be, throwing my pillow back at me. "Five minutes. We really need to talk"
I could clearly see the concern in his eyes, but that wasn't what made me actually obey the five minute rule; it was the fear behind it. "Richie?"
"You made me promise to give you five minutes! Whatever further insults or angry comments you have can be made in five minutes."
It's nice to have someone nearly as smart, witty, and cool as you on the team, but holy crap, I see why I'm such an isolated badass.
I pulled on my usual lounging gear: a jacket, my favorite Nike joggers, and matching sneakers before grabbing my stick and running out the door. Eventhough Richie never said where to meet, I know the one place he'd most likely be: the cafeteria.
The elevator opened onto the floor filled with more restaurants than The Mall of America (Dad got me a sweet Michael Kors purse, but Juvie doesn't allow nice things). My team was seated in the center of the hall, enjoying the strange variety of meals: everything from the appropriate burger and fries to the less appropriate waffle and eggs (Mitchell...). My team excitedly beckoned me over, forcibly seating me before I could even choose a restaurant. Katherine - the head robotic chef who bakes practically everything - knows me well enough to bring me my favorite: a fully stuffed burrito from Moe's. Don't ask me why she likes me so much, but she brings me food and that's all that matters. Also, Mitchell named her after his favorite Chopped champion, Katherine Chin, so I like to rub it in his face that she likes me more.
Just as I began digging in, Richie (of course) pipped up. "Jenna, we were talking about the strange events of this morning. Anything new?"
I was going to respond with, "Yeah that bruise" and punch him in the arm, but before I could swallow, Zach jumped in.
"Quick dodging it! We have superpowers!" Zach screamed giddily, nearly knocking my plate over. "Check it out!"
With outstreached arms, Zach eyes rolled into his head and the lights began to flicker. Above us, a light blew, sending glittering sparks into the epileptic darkness. Tendrils sepped from the fixture, dripping until they surrounded Zach like vines from a tree. And just like that, the lgihts returned and Zach beamed excitedly at our dumbfounded expressions, playfully running his fingers through the dangling coppers wires.
"So you're FPNL's worst nightmare?" Grease joked.
Instead of a snarky remark, Zach simply whispered something to the wires. The quickly coiled back into the light fixture, sending a blindly beam back on top of us.
"I can control electrical components?! Well, at least I think. Speaking of which, does anyone know if we have ceiling light repair robots or do I still have to program those?"
Mitchell quickly changed the subject. "After not being able to fall back asleep, I went to practice some swings. After hitting about 50 dead on homeruns... well, let me just show you."
He called Katherine over, whispered something in her ear, and excitedly waited for her to return. He revealed several dots for the dartboard across the room, nailed to the wall between Starbucks and Chick-fil-A. He sized it up then threw three consecutive shots, all of which missed teribly: richocheting off tables and signs. That is, until all three landed practically on top of each other in the center of the board.
"I can't miss," he said sheepishly, staring at our awestruck faces.
Richie broke the silence. "Jenna?"
"Whatever loser, no one shit their pants, okay," I said, dusting off my hands. I then proceeded to pick up the table, with everyone seated, with one hand, and set it down. Everyone's mouths were left agape, whether in terror or awe, I can only hope the latter. Luckily, Zach has fairly appropriate reactions every once in awhile.
"AWESOME!" he screamed happily, jumping out of his seat and pounding on teh table in approvement.
Heads quickly turned to Grease as we waited for some incredible mech to bust through the wall at her command; well, I did at least. But she just sat slumped over her Lasagna, depressingly poking it with her fork.
All of the sudden, she realized she was the center of attention. "Right, superpower! Uh...". She anxiously twiddled her thumnbs, something I've never seen her do. "I'd love to show you, but I, uh, have stuff to fix, so maybe later? Cool."
Before we could decipher what that was, she jumped from her seat and anxiously strode out of the cafeteria, leaving her lasagna- a very non-Grease-like thing to do.
"So," Richie awkwardly interjected, "super strength, accuracy, telekinesis, technokinesis, and technopathy. What do we do next?"
The room quickly fell silent as we all tried to think of the best answer. Of course, there is no best answer. Six incredibly irresponsible and stupid teenagers just gained superpowers. What the hell are we supposed to do?
Zach abruptly jumped excitedly, causing us all to reflexively jump with him. "Secret identities!"
Brianna stared blankly ahead, but she wasn't alone as we all were very confused. "We already have those. It comes with being spies," she sassed.
"Not those boring things! We didn't even use them on the biggest mission so far!" He complained, "We're superheroes! We need newer, cooler nicknames!"
"What do you propose ComicCon?" I teased, not expecting such a straight answer.
He turned to me, pointing and waving his hands in excitement. " You have super strength so.... Power Woman?!"
"That's lame." I said, cutting him off before he could come up with a horrible costume to go with that name.
His expression quickly changed, infuriated by my quick rejection. But of course, here comes Richie to the rescue.
"I like it," he agreed, nodding his head in appreciation. "It suits you"
"Really super computer? How about we call you Spartan?"
"That's perfect!" Zach outburst.
"No way! Richie should totally be Headmaster!" Mitchell quickly added.
I struggled to hold in my erupting laughter, gagging on my suppressed bellow. "You're kidding right?"
"Yeah!" Zach said, jumping on top of the table. "Richie would be Headmaster, Brianna is Mastermind, Mitchell is Bullseye, and Jenna is Power Woman!"
"And what about yourself? You came up with these horrible codenames for everyone but yourself" I confidently pointed out, waiting for Zach to be stumped.
That got him to sit down and shut up for at least a minute while he thought about it. "Hm... System? No, too plain. Conduit? No, too common..."
"How about Mainframe?" Brianna asked quietly.
"I love it!" Zach screamed, once again jumping from seat.
"That's so lame. I'd quit before any of you call me 'Power Woman'" I mumbled, disgusted by their terrible taste in codenames.
Zach mumbled something under his breath, which sounded a little like, "I thought you already did?"
He lucky I'm trying to think of a better codename or else he'd see just how super I am. Then, it suddenly came to me, "Athena!" I shouted. Everyone stared at me questionably as I celebrated my Eureka moment. "You know, the Greek goddess of battle strategy and strength? It's definitely better than Power Woman and, let's face it, I'm a goddess."
Before Zach could jump into argue, Brianna beat him to it, "Now that that's done and over with," she abruptly began, " I think we should redesign the Academy. Headquarters is nice, but the open field can used for so many things! Who's up for it?" she enthusiastically asked as she laid huge blueprints over the table.
I laid my hands over the extensive blueprints eyeing all of Brianna's precise marks and calculations. "Why is there a club and a football field? There's only six of us."
Richie quickly jumped in. "It sounds cool, but how are we going to do that? We're six teenagers. Even with superpowers, building a campus is crazy and will take forever".
I have to admit, a full campus sounds cool, but slightly unrealistic. Without someone in charge, how are six teenagers supposed to run the place?
"It sounds like a great idea, Brianna, but I think our main priority should be stopping The Jester." Mitchell added.
"Well, once you find her," she angrily stated, "then you can stop her. Until then, Grease and I and anyone else who cares to join will be making this state of the art facility into a facility."
Brianna quickly rolled up her blueprints and stormed out.
"I guess that's our cue to break?" Mitchell calmlymentioned as he scooted out of the table and walked out. Zach ran behind him, asking about a "summoning".
Naturally, Richie turned and nervously asked, "What's a 'summoning'?"
I laughed as we both stood. I carefully steered him towards the elevator. "The summoning is a ridiculous name Zach invented after he came here. It's basically how everyone gets here" I answered, pushing the down signal for the elevator. It chimed as Richie and I awkwardly stood in waiting.
"I, uh, don't exactly remember how I got here" Richie revealed, watching the numbers draw closer until the elevator chimed a little louder and the doors opened.
"Well, if you remembered how you got here, we'd be in serious trouble. I'm taking about the last thing you remember before being here"
"You mean my kidnapping?" He asked incredulously.
"Well, the summoni is different for everyone," I stated as I punched the button for P2 and the elevator closed. "For you, yes, the van."
"How do you know about that?" He quickly asked, backing into the corner of the elevator.
I quickly held my hands up in surrender. " Relax, I was there. I drove the van."
"You were? Who was the blonde guy that attacked me? Why did he attack me?!"
"That was Zach in disguise. Headmistress was worried you wouldn't come easily. The rest of us had a reason to go with her, but you, we figured you wouldn't come willingly at first."
"So you guys knew me before I came here?" he asked suspiscously.
"Headmsitress debreifed us on who you were; as for you specifically, we just knew your face and your intelligence. Why?"
"Just curious, I guess."
Another break of awkward silence. Seriously, I can hear crickets chirping. How can I go on a mission where he saves my life and still not be able to have a normal conversation with him?!
"I never did get to thank you for saving my life," I anxiously added, trying to keep the conversation alive.
"Of course" he quickly responded.
Before another awkward silence break could ensue, I quickly interjected as this was going to drive me insane. "I know I'm an acquired taste, but do you not like me?"
For several seconds, he stared at me, shocked by my sudden outburst. "Why on Earth would I not like you?"
"Well for one, you're awful at holding a decent conversation with me; second, I feel awful about being such a horrible teammate, especially after you saved me."
"Jenna, you're my favorite person on this team!" he quickly replied with that smile that will probably be the only thing that keeps me together as we draw closer to our destination.
"Why's that?" I hesitantly asked, regretting asking the question as soon as I asked it, utterly terrified to hear his answer.
He grabbed my hands and, without hesitation, explained, "You're the only person on this team I know, without a doubt, you can handle yourself. You don't care about everyone else because you know that no matter what they do, you're strong enough to get them back on track. That's why have super strength, not because of some fortune and a daily workout regimen."
"You don't think I'm pretty?" I asked, nearly slapping myself as soon as it slipped through my lips.
"Physically, no," he responded. I could practically feel my heart shatter. "But personally, you'd be Miss Universe" he finished, lovingly clutching my hands. "Now, do you want to tell me where we're going?"
I almost told him exactly where, but I quickly hardened. I needed him to see it to understand. I'm afraid that if he hears it now, he'll never trust me again. "Something I should've shown you a long time ago."
This time, he leaned in, pulling my face towards his. I wish I could've stayed in that second forever, but naturally, the doors had to open. I could've played that off too! I had some sentimental speech about my past ready, but I didn't intend for a unwanted visitor to accompany us. I didn't intend for it to turn out like this, kissing Richie on the way the see my evil ex, but I've never been happier. It feels as if the world has been lifted from my shoulders. But, reality came crashing through my dream like a kaiten.
The elevator lurched to a stop, waking Richie and I from our daze. The doors opened to reveal The Jester carefully lifting a fainted boy in a polo, loafers, and shorts from a stasis tube: Preston. She lifted him over her shoulder and turned to exit, staring right at us, just as surprised as we are. We all stood frozen in a Mexican standoff, waiting to see who'd make the first move. Something banged off to the right, as if someone were pounding a glass, instinctively making Richie turn to see. As fast as lightning, The Jester threw a dart and dashed off. Before I could unhook my stick from my back to deflect it, the dart pierced Richie's chest. He crumpled against the elevator wall, struggling to bring himself to his feet. The Jester bounded to the stairway exit directly across the hall, I pitched my staff like a javelin as she darted through the doors. I heard a satisfying grunt echo through the corridor as my staff flew out of view.
I quickly grabbed Richie arms and wrapped it around my neck, heaving him to his feet. I plucked the dart from his chest and carelessly tossed it away. His head hung limply as I tried to darg him out of the elevator.
"Hangar..." he mumbled, as I carefully set him down in front of Preston's, now open, capsule.
"Stay here. I going to find this overgrown La La Loopsy," I demanded, but his grip on my hand held firm.
He struggled to raise his head, but when he did, I saw the sweat dripping down his forehead, the pain in his sparkling blue eyes. Wait. Richie doesn't have blue eyes. Well, either he got contact lenses or that dart is affecting him because his eyes went from the color of my teakwood desk to the color of the sky in abou