really wanted to do - what he needed to do - was talk to Mandy. Ask her how it was possible she could take what for anyone else would have been an incredible weekend and turn it into a story. She had commented, he remembered, that she had slept with the star football player she had been hoping to land an interview with. And now it looked like she had slept with the star player in another league.
Jake walked across town to her apartment, thinking the long walk might cool his temper a little. It didn’t. He knocked on her door, but there was no answer. He turned to walk away. Maybe he would head back to the school, and see if she was at the campus newspaper office. Or at least they might to know how to find her. If he felt like a little spiteful revenge, he could always give them her so-called secret identity.
He stepped back down to the sidewalk, thrusting his hands into his jacket pockets, when two men in black suits and gray trench coats were suddenly at either side of him.
“Jake Calder?” one of them said. “We need you to come with us.”
Jake stopped, hands still in his pockets. He was not in the mood for nonsense or harassment. “Just are you ugys supposed to be? Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones? You guys look ridiculous.”
A flash of annoyance crossed the man’s face. When a man dressed like something out of the Men In Black movies stops you on the street, he expects you to at least feel a little intimidated. He reached into a jacket pocket and produced a small wallet, which he flipped open to reveal a badge Jake was not the slightest bit interesting in reading. “D.T.D,” he said. “We need you to come with us.”
Jake always thought D.T.D. sounded something like a pesticide, but he knew it to mean Department of Technological Development, created specifically to monitor himself and Scott. Officially a branch of the F.B.I., though he doubted many in the Bureau actually knew of its existence.
Jake said, “I’m not going anywhere.”
He turned to walk away, and one of them grabbed his arm. Jake pulled free, his hands coming out of his pockets, and he turned to face them. His gaze was firm, his voice level. “You really don’t want to hassle me. I’m not in the mood today.”
The one who had spoken ignored him. “You need to come with us, sir.”
The other one remained silent, his hands in his trench coat pockets.
Jake said, “Look, I’m not having a very good day. And unless you want yours to take a solid turn for the worse, you’ll leave me the hell alone.”
Jake believed with power came responsibility and he tried to never use his power out of anger, but as he stood facing these two federal officers he found his patience was exhausted. He began powering-up.
The man who had spoken said, “We were ordered to bring you in. And this is what we are going to do.”
“You and what army?”
The other one pulled a hand from his pocket. In that hand was an automatic pistol. Jake didn’t know enough about guns to know the caliber or anything like that, but it looked big. Regardless, it was evident to Jake these two clowns didn’t know who they were dealing with.
“We don’t want any trouble,” the man said, “but we were told to use deadly force, if necessary. You are coming with us.”
“Apparently you’re even more stupid than you look. Go ahead and pull that trigger.”
“Sir, we don’t want to hurt you. But you are coming with us.”
Jake simply smiled, as he continued the powering-up process. “Pull the trigger.”
“Sir, I’m warning you,” the one with the gun said. “I will shoot.”
“What am I talking to? A machine? I am telling you, pull the trigger.”
Jake seldom powered up to this level. The air seemed to take on a different feel as his human need for oxygen faded away. He no longer felt the air temperature or any heat from the sun on his shoulders at all, because he was now capable of tolerating temperatures that would kill a non-powered human within seconds.
Jake walked across town to her apartment, thinking the long walk might cool his temper a little. It didn’t. He knocked on her door, but there was no answer. He turned to walk away. Maybe he would head back to the school, and see if she was at the campus newspaper office. Or at least they might to know how to find her. If he felt like a little spiteful revenge, he could always give them her so-called secret identity.
He stepped back down to the sidewalk, thrusting his hands into his jacket pockets, when two men in black suits and gray trench coats were suddenly at either side of him.
“Jake Calder?” one of them said. “We need you to come with us.”
Jake stopped, hands still in his pockets. He was not in the mood for nonsense or harassment. “Just are you ugys supposed to be? Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones? You guys look ridiculous.”
A flash of annoyance crossed the man’s face. When a man dressed like something out of the Men In Black movies stops you on the street, he expects you to at least feel a little intimidated. He reached into a jacket pocket and produced a small wallet, which he flipped open to reveal a badge Jake was not the slightest bit interesting in reading. “D.T.D,” he said. “We need you to come with us.”
Jake always thought D.T.D. sounded something like a pesticide, but he knew it to mean Department of Technological Development, created specifically to monitor himself and Scott. Officially a branch of the F.B.I., though he doubted many in the Bureau actually knew of its existence.
Jake said, “I’m not going anywhere.”
He turned to walk away, and one of them grabbed his arm. Jake pulled free, his hands coming out of his pockets, and he turned to face them. His gaze was firm, his voice level. “You really don’t want to hassle me. I’m not in the mood today.”
The one who had spoken ignored him. “You need to come with us, sir.”
The other one remained silent, his hands in his trench coat pockets.
Jake said, “Look, I’m not having a very good day. And unless you want yours to take a solid turn for the worse, you’ll leave me the hell alone.”
Jake believed with power came responsibility and he tried to never use his power out of anger, but as he stood facing these two federal officers he found his patience was exhausted. He began powering-up.
The man who had spoken said, “We were ordered to bring you in. And this is what we are going to do.”
“You and what army?”
The other one pulled a hand from his pocket. In that hand was an automatic pistol. Jake didn’t know enough about guns to know the caliber or anything like that, but it looked big. Regardless, it was evident to Jake these two clowns didn’t know who they were dealing with.
“We don’t want any trouble,” the man said, “but we were told to use deadly force, if necessary. You are coming with us.”
“Apparently you’re even more stupid than you look. Go ahead and pull that trigger.”
“Sir, we don’t want to hurt you. But you are coming with us.”
Jake simply smiled, as he continued the powering-up process. “Pull the trigger.”
“Sir, I’m warning you,” the one with the gun said. “I will shoot.”
“What am I talking to? A machine? I am telling you, pull the trigger.”
Jake seldom powered up to this level. The air seemed to take on a different feel as his human need for oxygen faded away. He no longer felt the air temperature or any heat from the sun on his shoulders at all, because he was now capable of tolerating temperatures that would kill a non-powered human within seconds.
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