Wearing the Cape 4: Small Town Heroes Read Online Free Page B

Usually they pursue specifically vetted General Warrants, but they also handle emergency relief. They’re not bad at it. Last night…”
    She trailed off, but I knew that tone.
    “Shell? Who did you hack?”
    “Just their studio files after the fight. They were hardly protected at all.”
    I bent my head to rinse so I wouldn’t have to say anything.
    “Spinner’s been team leader for two years and they’re forcing him to move on,” she said through the spray. “The studio broadly scripted an argument built on whatever excuse the team could find, and he was supposed to get in a fight with Slamazon and maybe Kindrake. It would be a ‘character turning’ inflexion point for him, he’d realize he was out of control, resign, go off to China to gaze at his navel and discover himself, maybe come back in a year or two to join a real CAI team or an older reality team. He didn’t want to go, but the producers are ready to just terminate his contract if he doesn’t follow the script.”
    “The fight was planned ?”
    “Improvised with guidelines.”
    “That’s just—” I couldn’t think of a word bad enough, at least not one I could say. I finished up fast and grabbed the towel Shell handed to me. Blackstone’s decision to pull us out this morning, fuzzy before, now made horrible sense.
    “What’s the rush?” Shell asked as I toweled my hair hard, looking for clothes.
    “Does Blackstone know what you know about the script?”
    “No…”
    “Tell him. Tell him now .”



Chapter Three
Rules of Engagement in a Civilian Environment: avoid an encounter-with-force if at all possible, use only powers that can be applied without collateral damage, use all powers that can be applied without collateral damage, do not escalate, stop any escalation, and neutralize civilian risks as quickly as possible.
    Chicago Sentinels Training Manual.
    ----
    I finally settled on a fresh costume minus the mask, pulling the bodysuit on over damp skin. Boots, gloves… Somewhere along the line I’d started treating my costume (whatever my Andrew-imposed style this month) like a uniform; going anywhere “official” in the Dome without it was unthinkably improper even if the mask wasn’t necessary anymore.
    Shell watched me scramble, more and more worried. “Okay, he knows now. What’s the big deal?”
    Hopping on one foot, I realized my stupidity and floated to pull my boots on like an astronaut.
    “Oh I don’t know, Shell! If they staged it and it went bad, do you think they’re waiting for us to call them on it? Don’t you think they’ve got to be—drat!” I popped the seams of my supposedly indestructible left boot like most girls rip a stocking and tossed it for a replacement. “—spinning it already?” Boots on, I grabbed up my gloves and ran.
    Laconic Bob—Mal’s name for him and it had stuck—nodded in passing as we blew through the downstairs lobby. Shell had probably told Blackstone I was coming when she dumped the news on him; he didn’t seem at all surprised to see me when I came through his open office door. Legal Eagle looked up smiling, and my heart sank.
    Not that I didn’t like Tommy Brannigan, Esquire. He was cute, funny, and he’d kept me out of court over the infamous Paulina Street Noodle Incident (which had not been my fault). His breakthrough story had inspired Shelly to jump to her death five years ago, but I’d never held that against him and he would never, ever , know.
    But I only ever saw him when legal badness loomed.
    “Hello Astra,” Blackstone greeted me, acting for all the world as if our breathless entrance were a social call. Seeing Shell behind me, Legal Eagle blinked. He knew who she was now, but she bizarrely refused to wear a costume (her Galatea shells didn’t count) and today her lace trimmed sleeveless black t-shirt said Life: 3 in bold white.
    He shook his head. “Hey girls. Is there a fire?”
    “Don’t be a dumbass,” Shell huffed, making me wince as she dropped