Free Super Human by Michael Carroll

“There’s a woman, sounds like she could be in charge. She’s talking to one of the men. . . . Telling him that they have to keep waiting.” He opened his eyes. “They’re getting restless. Hungry too.”
    “I don’t believe this,” Rosenfield said. “Colonel, we need to take charge of this situation. You’ve got half the able-bodied cops in the state hanging around here scratching their butts. We can’t even get hold of any grown-up superheroes because Max Dalton is our only point of contact. I say we storm the place.”
    “And risk the hostages? No. If we knew exactly where they were, we might be able to take a chance on that. But we’re operating blind here.”
    Thunder asked, “You’ve got blueprints for the power plant, right?”
    The colonel nodded. “Of course. Our analysts are going over them in the truck. We’ve got several possible access points, but like I said, we’d need to know exactly where they’re keeping the hostages.”
    “I can help you with that. I can tell by the echoes where everyone is. I might not be able to tell the difference between the terrorists and the hostages, though.”
    Colonel Morgan looked to Rosenfield, who grudgingly nodded and said, “Worth a shot.”
    Thunder followed the colonel into the truck, leaving Abby facing the FBI agent. After a moment’s awkward silence, he said, “And what good are you?”
    “I’m strong and fast,” Abby said.
    “So’s Tylenol. Difference is Tylenol takes headaches away; it doesn’t create them.”
    Abby glared at him, then reached over her shoulder and withdrew her sword. “And I’ve got this.”
    “You have a sword. Great. I’ll definitely call you if it turns out that the bad guys are Athos, Porthos, and Aramis.”
    Abby didn’t know what those names meant, but she wasn’t about to admit that. “You want a demonstration, is that it?”
    He smirked. “Be my guest.”
    “All right. The demo comes in two parts.” Holding the sword by its blade, she offered him the hilt. “Take this.”
    He grabbed hold of the hilt, and Abby let go.
    The sword slammed to the ground, almost pulling Rosenfield over with it.
    “Heavy, isn’t it?” She reached down and took it from his hand, then slowly walked over to his rented car. “The FBI is insured, right?”
    Before he could answer, Abby swung the sword single-handed straight down on the hood of the car. The blade moved faster than anyone could see, but everyone jumped at the earsplitting bang . Rosenfield stared. His mouth dropped open. “My car! You dented the hood!”
    Inside her helmet, Abby was grinning. “Dented the hood? Oh please! Is that all the credit I get?” She reached out to the hood and peeled it back as though it was nothing more rigid than a cotton bedsheet. The metal creaked and snapped. The FBI agent’s mouth dropped even farther.
    The sword had sliced straight through the engine block.
    “Yeah. . . . You might want to get that patched up before you bring it back to the rental place,” Abby said.
    “Willful destruction of government property,” Rosenfield muttered, his eyes still on the ruined car. “That’s a federal offense.”
    “Sue me.”
    Colonel Morgan climbed out of the truck, followed by Thunder. They slowed as they reached the car. The colonel whistled. “Bit of an oil leak there, Agent Rosenfield.”
    The agent pointed to Abby. “She—”
    “Never mind that. Thunder here has given us our first break. We know where every hostage and every perp is. And we can get in without them realizing. We need your explosives guys with us to blow the main doors.”
    Rosenfield shook his head. “The hostiles would see you coming.”
    “Not if we come from above, drop down onto the roof from a chopper.”
    “Then they’d hear you coming.”
    Thunder smiled. “That’s where I come in.”
     
     
    Roz lifted her head. Something’s changed. . . .
    The sun had set and the room was in almost total darkness now, but that wasn’t what felt different.