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Author's Note: Ok back into the grind of things. I took the weekend off to do some things and go to a certain movie that came out. But now I'm back and here's chapter 10. There's finally some action. I'd like to thank djkauf for the wonderful editing and DC Comics for their characters.

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Chapter Ten:

“What do you mean there are no more rooms?”

The man at the counter sighed and rolled his eyes. “You do realize who is staying in this hotel at the moment, don’t you?”

I bit my lip. I felt like screaming at the prick but it wouldn’t help matters. I knew exactly who was staying at the hotel, hell, I was here to save his life. But of course, I couldn’t yell that. The guy behind the counter was just doing his job after all. Besides the two guys in the black suits standing nearby were making all three of us nervous. It was clear who they were from their dark sunglasses and earpieces. They were looming like stoic statues, staring at the people as they entered the lobby. The Drake Hotel was the place to stay at in Chicago, especially for someone like the President. It was luxurious and modern and apparently really hard to get a room at the moment.

I cast a glance at the secret service agents and grimaced. These two probably weren’t the only ones in the lobby. Even though I couldn’t see anymore, didn’t these guys like to go undercover, too? There were a lot of people in the lobby, most of them sitting about, reading magazines and newspapers. There were a couple of bellhops pushing luggage carts and a woman with a screaming two year old that she was failing to keep quiet. Though this place was really swanky, I don’t know why anyone would want to shell out this much cash to stay here.

Bea wrapped her arm through mine, entangling our fingers together. “C’mon sweetie, we can find some other place to celebrate.” She said this as sweetly as possible, resting her head on my shoulder.

The guy at the counter only looked mildly disturbed. The other part of him I think looked a bit turned on. He was young and if he was anything like I used to be, the idea of two chicks together was really hot. So I hammed it up a bit. I turned to her and laid one on her, making sure I went full tongue. I caught the dweeb out of the corner of my eye and though he didn’t visually show it, you could tell he was majorly turned on.

He cleared his throat and began typing on his computer. “We do have one room available” he said, “There was a cancellation a few moments ago. “Its one of our executive rooms, lake view.”

“Oh that sounds perfect sweetheart,” said Bea, really hamming it up now.

“Anything for you, babe.”

“Do the two of you want the romance package?”

“Yes please,” said Bea, cooing slightly. “Can you make it a king size bed too?”

I think the guy blushed several shades of red. He nodded. “Certainly” he said as he typed away. “That will be two hundred thirty a night, non smoking of course.”

Bea smiled. “Of course.”

She pulled out a gold card and handed it to him. I might have forgotten to mention this but Bea kind of rakes it in. Even though she lives in a rinky dinky apartment---her choice---she makes quite a bit of dough working for good old Wayne, even as a receptionist. Plus the government apparently fronted the recently changed bit of cash as an incentive, to help them get their lives back in order. I didn’t have a check, not yet anyway, but apparently it had a couple of zeros on the end of it.

The guy took the card and zipped it through. We waited a few seconds to be authorized then he smiled and handed the card back. Bea took care of everything else as he handed her some paperwork, including the room key, which was actually a card. Me, I looked around a bit more. My eyes went from the front doors to around the room and back to the secret service agents. They were definitely foreboding and scary. But they were just doing their job after all. Me, I was doing my job too. Somewhere in this place was Chiller and possibly Ballard too.

After not getting a response from Agent Faraday and getting blown off by Broderick, Bea tried to talk me into calling the police. But I wasn’t willing to get laughed at again. Besides, they wouldn’t believe us anyway. For one thing, we had no proof and for another, Henry Ballard was a good friend of this city. He was like the Lex Luthor of Chicago; he donated tens of thousands of dollars to charity every year and dotted all his I’s as far as his activities went. Besides the nightclub, he was really well respected. But all of that was factual of course, just like Luthor, if the rumors were true. In truth, Ballard was as crooked as they came, hell he was gambling in a shady joint, placing illegal sports bets and what not. Let’s not forget his almost attempted murder of me and Bea, which I’m sure wasn’t his first but if I’m successful, hopefully his last.

Bea still tried to talk me out of it though. Not that she didn’t want to save the President but she thought there was someone else who could pull this off better than the two of us. Sorry, the three of us, I keep forgetting about Skeets, because he’s invisible half the time. She wanted me to try contacting that superhero from the news, Giganta, or maybe even Jade. But it’s not like I can scream for help and they’ll come a running. Besides, I had no way to contact them. She told me what Jade told her about needing help but we couldn’t leave this up to chance.

I made the overall decision last night. Then the two of us woke up early in the morning and devised this plan. It was kind of simple really. The two of us would pretend to be newlyweds and try to get a room in the hotel. Once that was achieved, we’d try to figure out a way to get to the President and warn him of the impending danger. Ok it wasn’t a very well thought out plan but it was all we had. It’s not like I could go charging into the place, shouting bomb or something. Do you know how fast those two burly Secret Service guys would have tackled me?

One of them did look at me finally. I think he was sizing me up and something else. His gaze lingered on my chest a little longer than it should have. I shuddered, not sure if I liked the attention or not. I suppose I deserved it, knowing how much of a pig I was before. But no girl deserves all the looks I kept getting. It was really disturbing actually. I zipped up my hoodie, pulling the hood over my head and turning away; glad I was wearing jeans and not the skirt Bea tried to talk me into.

“Ok, thank you so much” Bea said to the guy behind the counter.

I took a few steps away, grabbing our two bags. A bellhop tried to take them from me but I shook my head. I didn’t want him to take them and realize they were too light. They weren’t filled with anything besides newspaper, to give them the effect that they were stuffed to the brim. Hey, we’re not here on a real vacation; we’re here for business. I pretended to heft the bags a bit as if they were heavy and followed Bea across the lobby to the elevator. She was dressed sexily today, in a tiny skirt and cute little top. She was supposed to be the bimbo, girly girl of the relationship. Me, I was her butch lover apparently. But even I knew I couldn’t really pull that off with how I looked. I was too damn gorgeous to pull off butch but she pulled off the bimbo pretty well.

As soon as we got into the elevator she sighed, spitting out her gum and finally relaxing her face muscles. I didn’t know a human being could smile that long.

“You owe me big time for that,” she said, massaging her face.

I laughed. “It worked, didn’t it?”

She nodded. “Now what, oh fearless leader?’

“Skeets, you here?”

The golden football materialized next to my head. I sighed, jumping slightly. That was starting to get really annoying.

“I’m here, Boss,” he said, floating a few feet away from my face. “How can I help?”

“Can you use that Wi-Fi thing of yours and tap into the hotel computer system. We need to know which floor the President is staying on.”

“No problem.”

“That’s your plan” gasped Bea “what, are you going to go knock on his door and tell him that someone is trying to kill him?”

I nodded. “Pretty much.”

I know what you’re thinking and you’re probably right. This plan isn’t going to work but I have to try. Chiller will stop at nothing. All he has to do is kill the President and replace him. I’m sure he’s got some crazy plan to get into the room. I bet it’s better than ours, too. Last night I thought we had the jump on things but then I realized that Ballard could change his plans just as easily, too. After all, I’m sure he got the papers and watched the news. Yeah, it was probably difficult but he was a man with a plan. If he was able to organize what he did, I’m sure he could change it just as quickly. It was all the more reason why we had to act so quickly. I was pretty damn certain he’d try to make the switch here. It would be really hard to do it at the Convention Center with all its security.

“I have found the President” said Skeets after a minute or so. “He’s in the Presidential Suite on the top floor.”

I nodded and looked at Bea. “What floor are we on?”

She looked at her keycard. “Eight.”

I nodded again. That meant we’d have to travel up two floors. I looked at the elevator buttons. There was no way the two of us could just waltz up to the tenth floor; it was probably swarming with Secret Service. But maybe we could go there by mistake. I took a deep breath and pushed the button for the tenth floor. Bea gave me a look but I smiled. I think she caught on because she smiled back. When we reached the eighth floor the door opened, I peered out into the hall and sighed. It looked really nice and swanky there. It was a shame that the two of us would never get a chance to enjoy it. I made a mental note to pay Bea back the 230 she just shelled out for a room that was going to go vacant for the night.

The elevator went up past the eighth and continued up to the tenth. I took a deep breath as the it came to a stop and the door slid open. I put on my game face, Skeets disappeared and I wrapped my arm around Bea’s waist. The two of us both took more deep breaths and stepped out the elevator, giggling. It didn’t take long for our laughing to draw attention. I caught a look down the hall as I pushed Bea gently into the wall and had my way with her. It was kind of cool, I felt like I was in a spy movie. There were four Secret Service agents standing in the hall. The closest one, a guy not much older than us, was walking rapidly toward us.

“Excuse me, ladies” he said, his tone gentle but forceful. “You can’t be here; this floor is off limits to guests.”

We pulled away from trying to suck each other’s face off. Bea giggled and put on her bimbo act again. I playfully sized the guy up, looking at the bulge on his left side, where his gun was located.

“This is our floor,” said Bea, giggling, holding up her card in the guy’s face. “See.”

The agent looked at it and sighed. “This isn’t your floor.”

“Sure it is” said Bea, looking at the card. “It’s eight.”

“I know your card says eight” he said, annoyed. “But this floor is ten.”

“Ten” said Bea, looking confused. “That comes after eight, right?”

Whoa maybe a little too much there.

I looked past them, gently slipping my arm away from Bea. The other three guys in the hall seemed to be drawn to the disturbance. The closest one was coming now. He was a tall, bald headed black guy about the same age as the other. He was moving pretty fast. I turned back to Bea. She was really putting on a performance now, giggling and flirting. She had her hand on the agent’s shoulder, laughing. Her plan appeared to be working, whatever it was. I think she was trying to pull off the drunken sorority girl act and it was working. The other agent arrived, ignoring me. He tried to pull Bea off his friend, but was having a hard time. It amazed me to see how strong she was. She was holding her prey’s tie, giggling and tugging on it.

“Why don’t we go to one of these rooms and I’ll show you a good time.”

The other agent grabbed her arm. “Miss, this is inappropriate.”

Bea grabbed his forearm, giving it a good squeeze. “Look at the bicep on you, I bet you work out.”

The agent ignored her. He tapped his ear. “You two better get over here. We have a problem.”

I stood off to the side. Bea was doing a good job keeping these two busy. But I’m sure the other two were going to notice me. I tried to weigh my options. The only thing I really had going for me was my magnetic thing. But I’m not really sure about that. I did an ok job with it in the apartment but that was little things. These were grown men. Besides, I’m not sure what I could do to stop them. As far as I could tell, there was nothing metal on any of them. Except maybe their guns and I wasn’t even sure about them, didn’t they make them out of ceramic now, or something?

The two others were moving down the hall, slower than their companions did. One of them was reaching into his coat, probably going for his gun. Oh shit, this was getting out of hand.

“Skeets” I whispered, going for my only other option. “Do you have anything that can take these guys out without harming me or Bea?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The two guys were moving faster now when they realized that I was standing there, too. One was coming right for me. He got about five feet away before something happened. It was quick. There was a little metal thing that flew out of thin air---probably from Skeets---it hit the guy in the neck. It didn’t take long for him to drop like a ton of bricks. His companion slowed and reached into his coat. Another metal thing sailed through the air, hitting him in the chest. He staggered a bit but dropped to the ground too. Skeets materialized and snapped toward the two guys who were with Bea. Both of them were too busy to notice.

Two more metal things flew from Skeets, hitting both of them in the back. They staggered and dropped.

Bea sighed. “I thought I was going to have to go pyrotechnic in a few seconds” She looked down at the agents, unconscious on the floor.

“They’re not dead, are they?”

“No” said Skeets, hovering over them. “My darts are non-lethal. They should be out for about a half an hour and then wake up with splitting headaches.”

“Skeets you are a bad ass” I said a with a big smile. “Remind me to never leave the house without you again.”

“It was a pleasure.”

Bea sighed. “You two can have your romance later; right now we have a President to save.”

I smiled and the three of us took off down the hall toward the presidential suite. There were no more guys outside the door. I went first; making sure Bea was behind me. I guess she should have gone first because of her power, but if anything were to happen to her, I’m not sure I could have lived with myself. After all, I kind of dragged her into this. Besides how bad would it look if I got my potential girlfriend shot on our second date? Ok so it’s not really a date but it was kind of cool to think of it as one.

I took a deep breath as we approached the door. I was going to do this as subtle as possible. So of course, I knocked on the door and said, “Housekeeping.”

Hey, it’s subtle, right. At first, there was no answer. So I knocked a little louder. A few seconds later, there was a sound from the other side. When the door finally opened, there was a burly man in a black suit standing there. He was wearing the traditional dark shades and earpiece. When he looked down at us---yes, he was a couple of inches taller---he didn’t look too happy. He didn’t say anything, instead his eyes cast down the hall and at the four guys unconscious at the end of it.

What happened next was really too fast to comprehend. One minute I was smiling smugly and the next the guy had his gun out. The barrel was real close to my face, almost touching my nose. It was so fricking fast. Ok so I know it looked bad but damn.

“ON YOUR KNEES NOW!”

Ok, someone was overreacting. I raised my hands. “I know this looks bad but it was the only way to get past them.”

Three more guys appeared, all pointing their guns too. Thankfully, Skeets was invisible again or they would have really freaked.

“This is a big misunderstanding,” said Bea, raising her hands slowly. “We’re not the threat here but there is one.”

“ON THE GROUND NOW!”

I nodded to Bea and slowly got on my knees. She reluctantly did the same. “We’re not the bad guys, dude,” I said, trying to smooth things over but I think it only made things worse.

The guy ignored us. He touched his earpiece. “Lobby, we have two potential hostiles up here. We need back up now.”

The guy waited but there was no response. He tried again but still nothing. Then he glared at us, his eyes narrowing. Oh shit, he thought we took out the lobby, too. But that was ridiculous, those guys were fine unless….oh God. It was Chiller, it had to be. I looked at Bea and she nodded her head, coming to the same conclusion. Then I took a deep breath and chanced it. I slowly got to my feet, my hands above my head.

The guy snapped back to me, raising his gun. “BACK ON THE GROUND NOW!”

“I’m not the threat here dude” I shouted “but someone is. There’s a guy here, he can look like anyone, and he’s after the President.”

The two agents behind the guy laughed.

“Its true” said Bea, getting to her feet too. “We called this in. Call Agent Faraday of Homeland Security, we left him a voice mail and explained everything.”

The guy pointing the gun at us didn’t flinch. “There is no Agent Faraday or Homeland Security. I know most of the field agents in this sector, he doesn’t exist.”

“Maybe he works for a different one?”

I saw the doubt in the guy’s eyes. Then he was all business again. “Get back on your knees now before I have to use this.”

I tried to switch tactics. “This guy who is coming, he’s a Meta, a shape shifter. He can look like anymore. His name is Chiller, call it in, he’s got a record. He’s working for Henry Ballard; they’re trying to kill the President.”

I said it all in one breath. The other agents behind him laughed some more but the guy in front of me didn’t. He lowered his gun slightly. He looked me up and down then looked at Bea. “You two don’t move” He didn’t holster his gun but it wasn’t as close to my face anymore. He turned to one of the guys behind him.

“Hendricks, phone it and check.”

“You can’t be serious?” said the guy who I assumed was Hendricks.

“Are you questioning me?”

“No, sir”

This guy and the other one still kept their guns trained on us. Hendricks was at a little coffee table in the room at a laptop. He was typing away rapidly. I watched him, looking for signs. I got what I was looking for when I saw his face. His eyes widened.

Sir, she’s telling the truth,” said Hendricks, spinning the laptop around. “I’ve got it right here. It doesn’t say anything about him being a Meta but he’s definitely in the system. He’s bad news sir, on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.”

The Secret Service Agent finally lowered his gun all the way. He looked me up and down. “What’s your stake in all this?”

I sighed. “My name is Myka Carter. I used to be Michael Carter of the Northwestern Wildcats and I’m a Meta.”

The guy’s eyes widened. So did the other guy. “You’re the Booster?”

I smiled. I had fans all over the place, who knew. “Check with the government, I was just registered.”

Hendricks was ahead of his boss, typing away. It didn’t take long. “Believe it not, she’s telling the truth, boss.”

The Agent beckoned us into the room. We stepped inside. I couldn’t believe how large and swanky this place was. It was three times larger than my apartment even. It was lush and looked like a princess lived here. I took a deep breath. If I ever got rich and famous, I was definitely going to make sure I stayed in this room. I looked about; it had everything, everything that is except one very important thing. I scanned the room, seeing just the three agents and nothing else. What the hell was going on here?

Bea asked the question. “Where’s the President?”

The Agent in Charge answered. “The Drake was a decoy. He was never coming here. We set it up to deter would be assassins. The President and his wife have a home herethat they stay at when they come to the city.”

I sighed. So all of this was for nothing. “Is he there now?”

The Agent shook his head. “No, he’s en route to the Convention Center.”

I nodded and then it slowly dawned on me. Ballard probably knew that too, he ran in all the political circles. I groaned. Chiller was never coming here; the two guys in the lobby were probably on a coffee break or something. Oh God, I’m at the wrong place. The color drained from my face. I turned to Bea but she realized it too.

“We’re at the wrong place,” I said softly. “Chiller’s going to hit him at the Convention Center.”

I think that got the Agent’s attention. “That’s impossible. Ten of my best men surround the President. There’s no way he can get close enough.”

I shook my head. “Chiller’s a shape shifter, remember. He could be anyone. Ten guys aren’t going to stop him.”

The color drained from the Agent’s face as realization dawned on him too.

“I have to get to the Convention Center now!”

“Let us handle this, missy”

I looked around the room and found a metal ashtray sitting there. I raised it off the floor to the wonderment of all, including Bea. “I think I can handle this on my own.”

I dropped the tray to the ground and didn’t wait for the others to respond. I just turned and took off running. There were loud footfalls behind me, probably Bea and possibly the others. I’m not sure because right now, I had a one track mind and that said the President was in danger.

_____________________________

Bea and the Agents caught up with me just as I was getting into the elevator. That was ten minutes ago and now the five of us---invisible Skeets as well---were on our way to the Convention Center. The guy behind the wheel of the black SUV was driving like a maniac, swerving in and out of traffic. The Agent in Charge---whose name happened to be Franks---was trying desperately to raise the Presidential convoy. But so far, he was having no such luck. Me, I was gripping my seat, trying as hard as I could to keep my anger under control. How could I have been so stupid? I should have known that the hotel wasn’t the target. But I believed the news in thinking that the Obama’s would be here. But of course, they’d stay somewhere else; they were from Chicago after all.

I cursed. A couple of paperclips floated above my head, hitting the ceiling. Bea grabbed my hand, trying desperately to calm me. ‘We’re going to do this. Everything is going to be fine.”

I smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. “We screwed up.”

“Why can’t I raise the team, Hendricks?” asked Franks from the passenger seat.

Hendricks was sitting next to me on the laptop, typing away. “Someone is interfering with our radio transmissions. It’s really strange but I can’t get through.”

I took a deep breath. Now was time to put all the cards on the table. “Skeets show yourself.”

Skeets suddenly appeared. He was floating near my head. There were some collective gasps in the car. But I ignored them. “See what you can do to help with the radio problem.”

He floated over to Agent Hendricks. The Secret Service agent looked like someone had deflated the air out of his bicycle tires. He looked from me to Skeets to me again. “What the hell is this?” he asked.

“A long story” I said, looking out the window.

I could see the Convention Center looming up toward us. We were about five minutes away. The wait was kind of nerve racking. Bea held my hand, squeezing g it, keeping me from making bigger things form floating about. I bit my lip and squeezed her hand too, trying desperately to hold on to some control. I didn’t want another rehash of my apartment.

Hendricks cut into my thoughts. “We’re through. This little robot is amazing,” He sounded giddy for a second. “The President is in the Green Room right now prepping. I’ve told Donahue about it and they’re on full alert.”

Franks let out a sigh. “Tell them to hold him for the time being.”

“Will do, sir”

We finally reached the convention Center. The SUV went around the back, coming to a halt next to a pair of like colored SUVS. There was a limo there too, with the presidential seal on the side and those little American flags. I looked at a few seconds as the vehicle came to a complete stop. When we did I unbuckled quickly and threw open the door. When I jumped out of the SUV, Skeets flew out in front of me. He went right to the other vehicles, zooming about them. He stopped at the limo for a second, hovering over the trunk.

I ran over, Franks a few steps behind me. “What is it, Skeets?”

“There’s a body in there.”

I took a deep breath and concentrated on the trunk. Please don’t let it be the President. I yanked on the trunk with all my might, tearing the hood clean off. It sailed through the air, over my head and landed somewhere behind me with a clang. Inside the trunk was a red haired guy in a black suit, his glasses and earpiece gone, his neck looked twisted. He was a little pale but other than that, it looked like he’d only been dead for a few minutes.

Franks gasped. “That’s Donahue.”

Hendricks came running over and looked into the trunk. “What the hell?”

Franks pulled his gun and tapped his earpiece. “We have a hostile in the building, masquerading as Agent Martin Donahue.”

I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I took off toward the building. Skeets followed close behind. I think people were running after me but I was too far ahead. Hey, football player, remember. I hit the door hard, knocking it open. I’m not sure if it was my power or my body that did the trick but there was a snap and it came off the hinges. It clanged a few feet down the hall as I ran into the building. There were more running behind me. I ignored them and ran as fast as I could down the long narrow hallway. Up ahead there was a few guys in black suits. They held up their hands, trying to stop me. Nearby there were two metal doors.

My anger took over. The doors got ripped off their hinges and slammed into the agents, knocking them to the ground. I jumped over their crumpled forms and continued to run. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I needed to get to the President before Chiller.

“CARTER SLOW DOWN!” shouted a voice, I think it was Franks.

I ignored him.

“Boss” said Skeets, hovering next to me. “I’ve tapped into the place’s security grid and have a layout of the building. The President is the a room a few corridors down and up a flight of stairs, first door on the left. You better hurry, there’s a commotion going on in there.”

I put on the speed. When I got to the end of the hall there was a flight of stairs. I started up them two at a time. About half way up something happened. My body felt as light as air and I slowly lifted off the ground. It was impossible but somehow I was flying. I looked about and saw metal handrails on either side of me. Was I somehow using magnetic current to lift myself off the ground? I didn’t really care at the moment. All I cared about was getting to the President before it was too late.

I floated the rest of the way up the stairs. Once to the door leading to the next floor, I used my gift and blew it off its hinges. The door crashed down the hall, making a lot of noise. I ignored it and ran out of the stairwell. As soon as I stepped into the hall, my feet touched the ground. I guess it was the current after all.

I ran down the corridor. There were how many corridors now. Wait, no, that was downstairs. Up here, the room was right there. I stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. I tried the knob first, opening the door slowly. I was just in time. There was several guys lying on the ground, some of them were dead, others looked stunned and confused. Chiller must have been strong, too, because a lot of them looked pretty mangled. But they weren’t the ones who mattered. The President was my goal. He was lying against the wall, a guy in a black suit standing in front of him, pointing a gun in his face.

I reacted on pure instinct. I looked around the room and found what I was looking for. There was a metal table against the far wall. I reached out with my gift and grabbed it, flipping into the air. Chiller---at least that’s who I thought it, was---snapped toward it, surprised. I didn’t give him much time to think about it as I used the table and slammed him against the wall. He dropped his gun and screamed. It was pretty cool but it wasn’t enough apparently. I tried my hardest to keep him pinned to the wall but he was stronger than most people. He pushed the table off, sending it crashing across the room. He dropped to his feet, lunging for the gun again.

I found something else. It was a microphone stand. It was made of metal. I whipped it into the air and send it flying at the bastard. First, I hit him in the gut with it, dropping him to his knees. Then I smashed him in the head. He cursed and looked at me.

“You’re the little bitch from the club” he spat blood from his mouth, his face changing back to the ugly bald headed normal version of himself. “Your little magic tricks won’t work on me.”

He batted the stand away, getting to his feet. He snatched up the gun and fired.

I raised my hand in fear and desperation. The bullet flew through the air and slowed down, stopping within a few inches from my face. He fired again. I snapped the first bullet around, slamming it into the second, stopping it in mid air. Chiller didn’t seem to be fazed as he fired again, twice this time. I caught the bullets and snapped them around, sending them back at him. He may have been super strong but there was no way he could stop bullets. One of them hit him in the left thigh, the other in the shoulder. He dropped to the ground, wailing in pain.

He raised his gun, ready to fire again. But he never got a chance. A shot rang behind me and a bullet whizzed through the air, hitting him in the head, dropping him quickly. I snapped around, Franks was standing in the doorway behind me, panting.

“You really are fast,” he said, slumping into the doorframe.

A few seconds later, Bea pushed past him, running into my arms, throwing her arms around my neck. “Never do anything like that again.”

Franks recovered and ran to the President. I looked, too. Please let him be ok, tell me I’m not too late. Franks checked him over, helping him to his feet. The President stirred and I sighed. He looked about, clutching his arm. He looked at the dead Chiller then at Franks. He patted the agent on the arm.

He sighed. “Donahue tried to kill me.”

“It wasn’t him, sir. It was a meta human shape shifter.”

The President nodded. “Good work, Franks.”

“I didn’t save you sir,” he said, pointing to me. “She did sir.”

The President smiled and nodded. “I owe you my life my dear. What’s your name so I can thank you properly?”

Franks answered for me. “That’s Booster, sir, Chicago’s own golden girl.”

The President walked over and held out his hand. I took it and we shook. “Thank you, Booster Gold.”

I smiled. Booster Gold, huh. I guess it kind of had a nice ring to it.