“Meet Patriot Jr.,” Agent Lim said. “His father is Patriot, one of the Liberators. He’s in the Young Liberators, and of course, the two of you know him.” He nodded toward Troll and Red Hex.
“This is the new Captain Commando,” Lim gestured toward me, “and the problem was that those guys,” he pointed at the guys on the ground, “were trying to kidnap a couple people, but it’s over. She stopped them. We’re cleaning up.”
“Nice work,” he said, and smiled at me. “Who are they with?”
“No idea,” I said, “I’m hoping Agent Lim will figure it out.” Continue reading Cassie: Part 8
“We had to change,” Sam said. “You don’t want to risk exposing who you really are. And then I set up a ward that stopped people from noticing that we were here. That’s why no one else came down the alley.”
“It’s really cool,” Rod said. “Think of it as a Someone Else’s Problem field from Hitchhiker’s Guide.”
So right, another guy who would assume that I’d read that book—because Nick and Marcus weren’t enough.
Continue reading Cassie: Part 7
I let the gun fall. It hit the pavement just as someone inside the van turned the ignition, threw it into gear and drove away. The van dragged the man I’d just kicked for a few feet, but he fell out when the back wheels hit the road outside the alley.
The van’s tires squealed, and the doors hung open, swinging as it drove away.
Maybe I could have jumped inside if I’d tried, but I hadn’t realized there was anybody in there. Continue reading Cassie: Part 6
“What grad school?” I asked. It wasn’t as if I’d know if he were lying, but maybe he’d stumble.
“Georgetown,” he said.
“Yeah? What professor?”
“Why? Are you in the program? Don’t get me wrong, but you don’t seem like a scientist type of girl.”
Compared to Nick, neither did this guy. Continue reading Cassie: Part 5
The CIA provides Mom with a car when she needs one for work, so Mom doesn’t keep one in D.C. Even if they were loaning her one that day, I knew I couldn’t take it. I walked a few blocks and took the Metro, D.C.’s subway.
It was rush hour. Almost every seat on the train seemed to be full—men and women in suits, little kids sitting on their parents’ laps, tired maintenance workers still in their uniforms.
I hung on to a metal pole in the aisle, thinking maybe I should have gone for her car. As the possibly dangerous product of mad science, I probably had a thick file (or more than one) with an official assessment of my level of threat to the United States. That made my entertainment needs a matter of national security, and part of Mom’s job, right?
In short, Uncle Sam owed me a trip downtown, but I knew I wouldn’t get to take him up on it—not that night, for sure. Continue reading Cassie: Part 4