Kicks

“Kicks, you’re up” you say, causing her to jump a little in her chair, having not expected her to be sent in this early in the day.

She wears purple and black spandex, a small set of protective goggles that covers her eyes along with a pair of distinctive purple sneakers.

“Um… y.. you’re SURE you want to send me..? I.. I mean..” she says clearly unsure of herself.

Falchion steps up, walking over to her and resting a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, if she sent you in then that means you’re ready… you got this…” this seems to have allayed her fears.

She’s no slouch, sure she isn’t a fighter but that hardly matters when she can maneuver across the room nearly as fast as a speedster.

Those are the thoughts that run through your head as she marches out of the bullpen, making her way to the scene.

Things used to feel so simple back then, good was good and bad was bad, back then you didn’t feel the need to watch your colleagues out of the corner of your eye, you didn’t need to scrutinize their every word or action. But things have changed.

It isn’t long before Kicks arrives on scene, a pair of surveillance drones in tow which fly upwards to provide a birds eye view of the building.

The civilians are lined up against the far wall of the bank near the tellers booth, untied, two men on guard, the other two presumably deeper within.

This bank was built in the 40s one of the few built in an art deco style with high vaulted ceilings, marble floors and pillars creating a sort of avenue from the front entrance to the tellers.

This place hasn’t gotten an update or remodel in years, you won’t need the drones to guide him through the bowels of the bank.

She creeps forward, looking into the lobby through one of the windows, waiting for an opening.

The drones make their way inside, picking up on their receivers a conversation between the suspects.

“How long they gonna be..? Those jokers better not be rollin around in the money in there” The first suspect says.

“The fuck..? Have they done that before..?” The second suspect asks, turning to the first suspect.

“Well… no. But still, every time, they drag their feet when loading up the cash”

“C’mon man, take it easy, all that cash, it’s prolly heavy as fuck..”

“Yeah well… the longer they take, the sooner a cape shows up, then we’re all fucked” he says, now turning fully to the other man.

Seeing the opportunity, she sets her plan into motion, teleporting into the crowd of hostages, grabbing one and pulling them back outside.

She does this again several times as they carry on their conversation, presumably too enraptured to take notice as their hostages disappear one after another.

“Hey you hear about that city of bums in the sewers?”

“Nah, that’s just a myth, no way the capes would let that shit slide..”

“Idunno man, cities been rebuilt so many times… maybe some folk slipped through the cracks? Found some ancient ruins connected to some old sewer tunnel…”

“That’s a load of shit, ain’t nothin down there except the freaks, ain’t a soul in the city **** enough to live among those monsters..”

Finally, once the last hostage had been teleported out of the building, the two take note.

“Hey, what the fuck..?! They’re gone!” They turn, looking around to see where they’ve went, spotting Kicks, one suspect raises a pistol and fired twice in her direction, one shot going wide, the other grazing her cheek leaving an inch long scrape.

“Shit… FUCK! ok, we’re leaving!” He says before taking off towards the back of building, presumably to the rest of their crew.

“Kicks, go after them, they cannot be allowed to escape with that money..!” You say, speaking to them through the comlink but she doesn’t move, she’s curled into a ball, here knees pulled to her chest.

You check the connection and see that it’s solid, so you repeat your order this time ensuring the message is received.

“Kicks, you have been given an order, go after them, now!”

“I… I… I can’t…” she says, her words faltering as she buries her face in her knees, clearly going into shock.

One of the drones turns its camera down the street and spots a darkened van speeding along, swerving between lanes as it cuts through traffic.

You sigh and make note of the license plate but for a job like this, it’s most definitely going to lead to a dead end.

It’s abundantly clear that you’ve overestimated how ready she was for a job like this and won’t make a mistake like this again.

Though the hostages were saved without a scratch you can expect a call from the mayor later, berating you for your “incompetence”.