Kirran slowly raised himself high enough to see through the window.
The warehouse was enormous.
Dust floated through shafts of fading sunlight.
Crates sat stacked throughout the building.
Most were large.
Heavy.
The kind of containers that definitely weren’t supposed to be sitting in abandoned warehouses.
At the center stood an older man wearing an expensive charcoal-gray suit.
Everything about him radiated wealth.
The polished shoes.
The gold watch.
The confidence.
Even standing still, he looked powerful.
Dangerous.
The kind of man who was used to getting exactly what he wanted.
Two armed guards stood nearby.
A woman holding a tablet stood beside him.
An assistant, perhaps.
Or something more.
The older man checked his watch.
Again.
And again.
Military grade.
An assistant, perhaps.
Or something more.
The older man checked his watch.
Again.
And again.
His patience was clearly running out.
“I thought they were supposed to be here at four.” His French accent carried clearly through the warehouse.
The woman nodded nervously.
“They were.” “I’m certain of it.” The older man sighed.
“You’ve never disappointed me before, Renée.” His tone remained calm.
Almost pleasant.
Which somehow made him more intimidating.
“But if they don’t arrive within five minutes…” His eyes narrowed.
“…I’m going to be very unhappy.” Renée swallowed.
Kirran exchanged a glance with Mach.
“Who are these people?” “I do not know.” Mach’s icon frowned.
“But I suspect they are not discussing literature.” “Good observation.” The warehouse fell silent.
Everyone seemed to be waiting.
Waiting for someone.
Or something.
Then— CRAAAAASH!
Glass exploded from above.
Kirran nearly fell backward.
“What the—” Shards rained through the warehouse.
The guards raised their weapons.
Renée screamed.
Even Belizaire stepped backward.
Two figures descended through the shattered skylight.
Blue.
And red.
Kirran froze.
“No way.” The Wheelers.
Zyla landed gracefully.
Jarrick landed considerably less gracefully.
The impact rattled nearby crates.
Neither seemed concerned.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Belizaire folded his arms.
“You’re late.” Kirran blinked.
Wait.
What?
Zyla bowed her head slightly.
“We apologize.” “There was a hostage situation.” Belizaire looked unimpressed.
“A hostage situation?” Jarrick rolled his eyes.
“Yeah.” “It’s hard pretending to be superheroes all day.” The world stopped.
Kirran felt his stomach drop.
Pretending?
What did that mean?
Mach’s icon flickered.
“Kirran…” “I heard it.” “Perhaps he was joking.” Kirran didn’t sound convinced.
Neither did Mach.
Inside the warehouse, Jarrick rolled toward several large crates.
A grin spread across his face.
“Show us the goods.” Renée nodded.
She approached one of the containers.
Unlocked it.
And lifted the lid.
Kirran couldn’t see inside.
But judging from the reactions— Whatever was inside mattered.
A lot.
Jarrick leaned forward.
Interested.
Zyla examined the contents.
Professional.
Businesslike.
Comfortable.
Far too comfortable.
This wasn’t a rescue mission.
This wasn’t an investigation.
This wasn’t hero work.
This looked like— “No.” Kirran shook his head.
“No, no, no.” Mach stared.
The impossible conclusion slowly formed between them.
“They’re criminals?” Kirran didn’t answer.
Because he was afraid the answer might be yes.
The crate opened wider.
Now Kirran could finally see.
Weapons.
Dozens of them.
Energy rifles.
Cryo-cannons.
Military-grade explosives.
Enough firepower to start a war.
Renée smiled professionally.
“We included the standard cryo-cannons and flame blasters.” She gestured toward another crate.
“And a few prototypes.” Jarrick’s grin widened.
“Oh, now we’re talking.” Belizaire stood nearby with his hands behind his back.
Clearly pleased.
This wasn’t a random meeting.
This wasn’t a misunderstanding.
This was a transaction.
A deal.
And somehow— The city’s greatest heroes were part of it.
Kirran’s hands tightened around the controls.
Everything he’d admired.
Everything he’d believed.
Everything he’d respected.
It was starting to crack.
And the worst part?
The cracks were getting bigger by the second.