Linh launched herself off another rooftop, landing with a thump on the other side of the alley. She vaulted over an AC unit with one hand, the other clutching her comm.

  “He’s heading south,” she reported, eyes on the bruiser below her, “He’s big. Probably durable. Definitely strong.”

  “Copy, keep in touch, Dude is on his way to intercept,” Kestrel replied.

  “Tell him to hurry up!” Linh snapped, sliding under some pipes that… did something. She had no idea, she wasn't a plumber. She winced as the guy below crashed right through another wall, heedless of what was on the other side.

  “This guy doesn't give a shit about what he breaks,” she said, “Should I stall him?”

  “Get in front, see if you can get him headed east,” Douche said.

  “Negative, Rabbit, don't engage.”

  “They’re headed straight into a mall,” Douche countered, “Rabbit, turn him before this gets messy.”

  “On it!” Linh said, springing forward. She launched herself with her next hop, sailing over the bruiser’s head. She twisted in mid air, flinging her arms out to wrap her sleeves around his waist. She landed and pulled. He was heavy, way heavier than he should have been, so instead of flinging him into a wall, she merely pulled him off balance. Still, he stumbled and crashed into a dumpster. Linh released him, bouncing on her toes, ready. She squeaked as the dumpster came flying at her. She dove to one side to avoid it, the big guy lumbering to his feet.

  Linh prepared to face his charge, but he instead crashed through the wall next to him. A second crash followed, probably him exiting through the other side.

  “No good!” Linh called through the comm, “He’s just smashing through buildings.”

  She leapt onto the roof, spotting the man crashing through another building.

  “Well, at least he isn't heading south…” she thought.

  Skip listened to the comms with concern. Poor Rabbit was getting tossed into the fire. Whatever was going on with her target, it sounded like a paperwork storm waiting to happen. But he couldn't focus on that, not right now. He had his own mess to handle.

  “Still going north,” he reported, vaulting over a mailbox as the criminal ducked through a crowded sidewalk. This guy was fast. Not power-fast, but Olympic fast. Bastard had cardio.

  “I’m losing him,” Skip admitted, frustrated. The low buildings blocked his line of sight, and this wasn't one of his marked zones. Downtown, he had dozens of skips preloaded. Here? He was stuck to alley-hopping and footwork.

  “I’ve got him,” Kestrel reported.

  Skip winced. He’d really wanted to handle this one himself. He wasn't the rookie anymore, he needed to be better, to show the others that he could handle it. He needed to be a role model for Linh.

  The transport swooped low overhead, its thrusters blowing debris off the street. The rear door spun open mid-air, revealing Kestrel in the doorway, wind tugging at her hair, eyes locked in concentration. She clapped, sharp, commanding, and golden doves burst into the sky like fireworks.

  Skip activated his power, blinking up onto the transport’s ramp in one clean motion.

  “Got him?” he asked, steadying himself beside her.

  “Two seconds,” Kestrel replied.

  Right on cue, a flare of golden light erupted in the distance. One of her doves had made contact. Perfect.

  Skip locked in on the glowing mark, and skipped once more. It irked him how reliant he was on Kestrel marking locations for him. Without her, he’s a C lister at best. But he put that out of his mind. The job came first, ego never. Kestrel elevated him to a level he could scarcely believe. Working with her gave him the chance to save lives on a grand scale, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

  He appeared mid air directly behind the fleeing criminal. He planted his knee into the small of the man’s back, sending him crashing to the ground. Skip pressed him into the pavement, tugging the guy’s arms behind his back.

  “Got him!” he called over comms, keeping his weight on the guy’s back as the criminal struggled. Skip grabbed a pair of mag-cuffs and slapped them onto the guy's wrists.

  “Understood,” Kestrel said, voice already fading. “Hold him till the bus gets there. I’m going to back up Sentinel.”

  Skip watched the transport vanish into the distance, then looked down at the groaning man beneath him.

  His job was done. Now came the hard part, listening to the team work over comms, and hoping they would all come out of it unscathed.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Sentinel growled as he dodged another blast of fire. He was confident they wouldn't harm him, but it would be foolish to risk damage by letting one hit him. He was hoping that the criminals would be smart enough to surrender, but they insisted on trying to fight their way out of the situation. They always did. It baffled him.

  These two were sloppy, unpracticed. A far cry from the top level villains they occasionally dealt with, but still enough to be dangerous. Professionals were predictable. Amateurs like this panicked, and that was when bystanders got hurt.

  “Got him!” Skip said over comms, and Sentinel nodded with satisfaction. The kid was still green, and a little care free for his tastes, but he was a useful asset. It was just a shame that Kestrel was drawn away to assist, because Sentinel could use a hand.

  It wasn't that the two men he was engaged with were a threat he couldn't handle, it was that there were still god damn civilians all over the place. With hostages in the bank and police on the street, Sentinel couldn't use the sort of force required to punch through the crude shields being projected by the second man.

  He needed to wrap this up before someone got hurt, or before the damn Rookie got someone killed while he was busy. That girl was not prepared for this, no matter what Beacon claimed.

  Sentinel dodged another blast, returning fire with some low powered lasers. He wasn't trying to actually hit the men, not on that power setting, but he wanted to keep their heads down, keep them focused on him.

  The guy flinging fireballs cursed and ducked, despite his partner having him covered. Sentinel almost chuckled. Almost. These idiots were wasting his time.

  “Sentinel, status?” Kestrel asked, and Sentinel bit off the angry retort. He was busy, he didn't have time to check in. But Kestrel was a damn fine hero, and communication was key.

  “Keeping them occupied, too many civilians to go for the take down,” he replied.

  “Need an assist?” She asked, and Sentinel checked his hud. His systems were tracking all the non combatants on the street. Mostly clear, good. The police had been doing their job for a change.

  “Get me an opening,” he said, with some reluctance. He wanted to decline, to send her to chase the rookie, but he had to trust that Thunderdude had that covered. Even Sentinel had to admit that the man was effective.

  “Roger,” Kestrel replied, “Birds inbound.”

  Sentinel checked to make sure his visor’s anti flash was functional, this was about to get bright.

  A sudden golden flare streaked across the sky. Sentinel counted five, no, seven of Kestrel’s birds arcing overhead in a glowing V-formation, trailing light like comets. The goons didn’t notice them yet.

  He raised one arm, aiming carefully.

  The shield user moved to intercept, just as the first dove dove.

  There was a crack like a firework, then a second, then a third. Blinding flashes erupted mid-air as the birds burst just above the street, each one exploding like a flash bang. The fire-thrower yelped, flinching hard, his next blast going wide. The shield user staggered under the sudden visual overload, his construct flickering like bad reception.

  There. That was the moment.

  Sentinel surged forward. Boosters roared at his back as he covered the distance in two powerful strides and a lunge. He hit the shield like a wrecking ball, punching through the weakened field with a burst of kinetic discharge. The shield shattered in a spray of sparks.

  The second man barely had time to raise his hands before Sentinel grabbed him by the vest and slammed him into the pavement.

  The fire-thrower tried to run.

  He didn’t get far.

  Sentinel raised his arm, targeted, and fired a tether round. The cable snapped forward with a crack and wrapped around the man’s waist. A moment later he was yanked off his feet, hitting the ground with a pained grunt.

  Sentinel marched over and planted a boot on the man’s back.

  “Both secured,” he growled into comms, not even winded. “Street’s clear.”

  That was his job done. Now he had to hope that the Rookie and Thunderdude could close this out.

  He didn't like his odds.

  Linh leapt across another rooftop. Below her the bruiser smashed through another building. She really hoped it was empty, this was getting out of hand.

  “Where the hell is Douche?” she demanded, giving chase as he exploded out the other side and turned south yet again.

  “Coming, you’re moving away from me,” Thunderdude replied, “keep on him Rabbit.”

  Linh growled, keeping up wasn't a problem. The problem was that this asshole was going to kill someone at this rate.

  He barreled down the street, and unfortunately, this one was filled with pedestrians.

  People screamed and scrambled out of the way as the chase continued.

  “Shit!” Linh launched herself forward, overtaking the guy in a blur, landing next to an old lady that was completely oblivious to the monster of a man that was barreling towards her. Linh pulled the woman out of the way, gently, of course, before turning to face the guy.

  He crossed the street, shoving a car aside as he did so, changing direction. Linh jumped to follow.

  “Sorry!” She shouted as she used the windshield of the same car as a springboard to follow. She couldn't remember who was responsible for the repair bill. The handbook hadn't been the most clear source on that. She was pretty sure it wasn't her though.

  She shook her head, “Not the time Linh,” she muttered to herself.

  She continued the chase, following as the man rounded another corner. She reached the corner and squealed as she came face to face with a motorbike that was hurtling towards her. She twisted, snagging it out of the air with a grunt, anchoring herself to the ground by wrapping one of her sleeves to a nearby pole. She placed the bike carefully down, before looking up.

  Her eyes widened with horror. Thunderdude had been worried about the mall, but what was ahead was even worse.

  “I’m engaging!” Linh shouted, preparing to jump.

  “Negative, wait for Douche,” Kestrel replied.

  “He's headed into the fucking train station,” Linh countered, “There’s no time.”

  She needed to draw his attention.

  Linh crouched, preparing to hop. Then she teleported, appearing right in front of the bruiser.

  She exploded forward, putting every bit of force she could muster into the jump. The guy’s eyes widened as she launched herself feet first directly into his face. She felt his nose crack under her heels. Oops. She was supposed to avoid the face, wasn't she? Problem for later.

  The impact hurt. But it worked, he was sent tumbling as she flipped off him. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain in her ankles as she slung out her sleeves, managing to rip the three bags free from his shoulder. She flung them as far as she could, and they sailed onto a roof.

  Unfortunately, this meant she didn't have time to break her fall, and she crashed into the side of the train station, shoulder crunching painfully into the hard sandstone wall. She hit the ground a moment later.

  “Shit,” she said, clutching her shoulder. That fucking hurt.

  Double shit. She dropped her comm somewhere.

  Triple shit. The guy was getting up.

  Linh gritted her teeth and stood. She had to meet him out there, if she waited for him to come to her, they’d be brawling in the station.

  She pushed off, ignoring the pain in her ankles and the way her shoulder didn't seem to feel quite right, crunching into the guy as he tried to extract himself from the car he had slammed into after her initial kick. The car slid back, and this time she managed a roll to break her fall.

  “That,” the guy growled, “was a big fucking mistake.”

  “Was it?” Linh replied, posing despite her fatigue and pain. She tilted her head, finger on her chin in imitation of Jazz.

  “Because it seems to me like it worked,” she continued, sweetly, “Or was that someone else’s crime money that I just confiscated?”

  “I am going to crush your fucking skull,” the bruiser declared, pulling himself out of the twisted wreckage.

  “The only thing you’re crushing today is your career prospects,” Linh replied, “The job market is not kind on ex cons.”

  “Very funny little rabbit, let's see how you laugh with your brains spread across the pavement.”

  Linh giggled, “Try it big guy.”

  “Well,” she thought to herself, “Step one: piss him off is complete”.

  Now she just needed to work out what the hell step 2 was. She had his attention, sass had seen to that. Now she just needed to stall until Douche got here.

  However long that was.