Sofie leapt across rooftops in Copenhagen using the power of plastic and some fancy footwork. Night blanketed her movements and rendered her nearly invisible, despite her elaborate costume. Regardless of what he said, she constructed her costume well, hand sewed it from 300 francs worth of material. Good thick plastic was hard to obtain in Denmark. She landed atop the roof of a half-finished building under construction and rolled her eyes. They were some kind of fools to meet under the future headquarters of the EEA itself. These fat cats knew no prudence.
Sofie tracked the lot of them here from their credit card numbers. The embossed ridges granted a shape she could sense and because of her range, she knew where each of them was the moment she stepped off the train in Copenhagen Central Station. Franklin Beaudry wasn’t with them yet, but he was on his way. She was ahead of schedule anyway.
“I’ve got my eyes on you,” she whispered.
“Apparently not,” someone said. A gun clicked.
Sofie froze, staring ahead as the man held a gun behind her. She pieced together a few thoughts and searched for each credit card number. She accounted for each of them, though could it be she got the wrong numbers? No, her memory was dead on target. No chance she could misplace a handful of credit cards.
“I lent mine to an acquaintance in Copenhagen,” he said. “That’s what you see right now, isn’t it? My credit card?”
“I … don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I should kill you,” he started, “but I’m fascinated by your resonance. Name’s Arc by the way, and the people I work for might value your skills highly, even if they are a bit unpolished.”
Resonance? Was that the term these people had for powers? If it was the case, though, it meant he might be like her, in a manner of speaking. Nobody could be quite as amazing and few dared to try. Dared she test his abilities? Oh, hell yes.
“That’s not all I can do,” she said.
“I noticed,” the man replied. “I’m guessing your resonance is tied to plastic. You can move your suit to enhance your speed and strength. You can even shape it so bullets glide off the surface, a reflex ability from the look of it. I’m impressed so far, though your garments continue to remind me of crudely sewn garbage bags.”
“Hey, this is high quality,” she said.
“I’ll bet,” he said. She detected sarcasm. “Listen, I don’t have a quarrel with you, Plastique, so long as you leave me to my duties below ground. I need to finish what I started.”
“I can’t do that,” she said. “I’m in this for mother earth.”
“A pity,” he said. He took a step forward. “Any last words?”
Sofie cautiously considered her options. It was a cold night, a terrible time to die. She eyed the gutter four stories below and the thought that she might be lying in one of those sent surges of newfound resolve through her spine. It was about time she discovered some backbone.
Across the street, an old sports shop stood, closed, though with ingredients intact. She pulled out the pieces from display and anything else she could tie her senses to. The surprise attack required both silence and swiftness, something uncharacteristic of plastic baseball bats. However, upon gathering up a maelstrom of plastic accessories, her consciousness dug into a vat of something divine.
“Ping Pong.”
“What now?” Arc said.
Before he could react, a hailstorm of plastic balls smashed against him and knocked him away. Arc fired two stray shots before the wave of tabletop gaming accessories sent him falling off the ledge and into the mass of construction materials below. He might be lucky if a stray bar didn’t impale him on the way down. The urge to peer over the edge tempted her, but in the end, she decided against it. Better to internalize the thought that he might have fainted than to realize potential blood on her hands.
Even if it belonged to Savage Steel, she shook her head and proceeded down to the ground floor. She hopped into an open shaft and leaped through the construction work until she landed feet first on ground level, an awkwardly designed room lit by starlight.
The five businessmen gathered below and assuming Arc hadn’t tricked her further by planting their credit cards in a hidden chamber, then she was about to exact her plan to the letter. Sofie hustled about before she located to the hidden latch to the underground. Arc or someone else placed a dust-filled rug over the hatch, but nobody locked it. These fellows planned to leave quickly.
Sofie took a deep breath, lifted open the trap door, and climbed down … discreetly this time.