He let the door close behind him and took in a deep breath, savoring the wonderful air of the outdoors. After locking the door with a sense of finality, he walked slowly to his car. He was in no hurry, and for the first time in a long time, he truly appreciated that fact.
He hadn't been this excited about it being Friday in months.
There were no elaborate plans for the weekend . . . actually there were no plans at all for the weekend, but he was still somehow excited about it. Maybe he was happy that he had a couple of days that he didn't have to come in to work. Maybe he was looking forward to having a day to sleep in after a week of sleeping like a baby (waking up frequently hungry and cranky).
Maybe he was excited about the current economic state in southern Australia.
Screw logic.
For a rare moment, he really didn't stop and think about it. He just went with it.
It kinda felt nice.
As he walked to his car, he spread out his arms, looked to the sky and breathed deeply from the cool afternoon air. A sudden wave of self-consciousness overtook him, compelling him to look around to see if anyone had taken notice of his moment of exuberance. When he realized that not only did nobody notice, but that there was nobody to notice, he threw caution and dignity to the wind and ran across the parking lot to his car.
When he got there, he quickly realized in just how bad of shape he had gotten. It took a bit for him to catch his breath.
So he closed his eyes.
Slowly, cautiously, repressing his nerves and frustration, he opened his eyes to look at the assembled crowd. This was going to split them down the middle, and he was the one who had to break it to them. How did he end up here?
"It's time, Cap," the government agent said with far too much familiarity.
"I know," he said with far more confidence than he felt.
He turned to look at the other two members of the soon-to-be-disbanded Alpha team. Lance was sitting straight-backed in his chair, grinning at their fellow Archers with his typical far-away stare. Primadame was pacing back and forth right behind him, occasionally glancing around, but usually staring intently at her feet.
Captain Superior turned and called the assembly to order.
As he went through some standard protocols he could have done in his sleep, he did a mental check of the Archers and who would most likely end up where.
Beta team was easy. Sam would follow Arcano anywhere who would, in turn, stay with Captain Superior. The Keresian would be compelled to keep herself on the side of the government. Daedalus of Gamma team would fall in that same category, taking Galatea with him. Diri would likely go with them as well if for no other reason than to stay with his teammates. The other teams were a bit less predictable. Sharpshot and Cowhand would almost certainly leave along with Folivora-Man, but he expected Irene and Astro Defender to stay. Mr. Simon, Malice, and the entire rest of Epsilon were wildcards. Their decision would depend on what happened in the next hour.
Then there was Delta team.
He looked over at them. Corson was listening intently, or at least pretending to listen intently, while Ghost and Haze whispered back and forth to each other. They were linchpins. They were low-ranking enough to still be seen as comrades to the rest, but high-ranking enough to be seen as leaders. They were both dangerous and unpredictable.
There was a distinct possibility of Corson avoiding both teams just to stay out of the conflict, but Ghost and Haze would stick together. However much they fought and teased each other, nothing was going to separate them. If the decision was left to Ghost, he would probably stay with the Archers to spite the government. Under different circumstances, the same could be said of Haze, but it was far more likely that he would leave to spite Captain Superior.
He suddenly found himself at the point in the meeting he had been dreading. "And now," Superior said, feeling much less than superior, "here is Agent Qualm of the NSA to explain the real reason for this meeting."
Captain Superior slowly, begrudgingly sat down, yielding the floor to the government.
"Thank you," the agent said pleasantly as he stood, "but it's just Qualm. There's no need for the 'Agent'." This guy was good. He was dressed in apparel almost as flamboyant as most of the Archers and had even given himself a codename that made him sound like one of them. He was trying to convince them he was on their side.
Superior let a spark of hope slip into his soul as he saw Haze and Ghost quietly mocking Qualm. Just maybe this could go his way. Maybe.
"As you all know," Qualm continued, "when Lance here first approached the presidency about being a superhero, they didn't exactly get off on the right foot." A chuckle echoed through the group. This guy was really good. "And then when he said that he was forming a whole team of heroes, the government supported the decision."
"Eventually," Lance interjected, bringing on an even more vigorous round of laughter. Damn them for being good at this.
"Now," Qualm continued, smiling but not missing a beat, "we would like to offer you all the opportunity to become members of the NSA. You have the unique opportunity to become the first League of Authorized Nexters, Crawlers, and Extraordinaires, or L.A.N.C.E." No one in the room wondered who came up with that name.
Malice suddenly stood up, anger flaring in her eyes and across her skin. "You're recruiting us? Are you kidding me?" She threw out her arms, unleashing a burst of energy.
Captain Superior leapt out of his chair, floating a few inches in the air, shielding his face with his arms. At least now he knew where Malice stood.
He opened his eyes.
After finally catching his breath, he got in his car and started it. Maybe today was the day he would finally start working again. He yawned widely, remembering how little sleep he had gotten that week.
Then again, there was always tomorrow.
It was Friday after all.
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