As we neared the end of the hall, Izzy said, "Here," swerving to the left of the elevator and punching the wall.

Jaclyn swerved with her, their arms a blur, leaving a hole wide enough for four of us to jump through at a time—which they did the moment they were done. We followed, all of us seemingly in Syndicate L's armor, some flying, others dropping at the safe speeds that my anti-gravity tech allowed.

Haley didn't bother, using my goo gun tech to fire off a line and swing down to the floor.

And where were we? A massive room that reminded me of the main room of HQ back home. It shared in common being a control center with giant TV screens on the walls, more visible concrete than most interior designers would recommend outside of prisons and factories, and thirty-foot-plus ceilings.

They differed in that our place included a dark red carpet in spots and included the original League's trophies. Their walls included sections of white plaster over the concrete, and they'd covered every part of the floor with rows of cubicles.

One of the chunks of wall that Izzy or Jaclyn knocked out had smashed what appeared to be a combination network printer, fax, and copier. I wondered who maintained it. Did the Nine have a corps of Evil Copier Repairmen, or was there a company out there that specialized in servicing supervillain bases? Did they call Rook? I'd gotten the impression that he might be high up in the Nine, so that seemed unlikely.

At about the same time, I also noticed our opposition. They were still running into the room, but that was as anticipated. According to Hal's analysis of our original plan, we should now be fighting the building's guards, the guards associated with protecting the teleportation system, and anyone who'd retreated from the outside.

That last group could include some wildcards, but almost certainly a few Cabal soldiers and mind-controlled clones of heroes.

Hal's profile of Magnus suggested that Magnus would be calling the most powerful people on the island to protect himself, given how the battle outside was going—which could make for an easier fight now, but might not later.

Hal flashed an announcement into everyone's implants.

[I've taken the liberty of loading up information we've gathered about the Nine's employees into an implant-readable format. Calling them by their names and referencing information we've gathered about them may result in a tactical advantage.]

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I might have asked questions about that, but I didn't have time. I was doing a quick tactical assessment of the opposing force's positions.

First off, the new people entering the room didn't run straight in. They took positions behind cubicles as if the cubicles could double as World War I-era trenches.

They weren't the only ones doing it either. The average cubicle dweller pulled out pistols and rifles and did the same. Checking the cubicle walls with my sensors showed that yes, they were solid. I didn't know what they were made from off the top of my head (though I had guesses), but they were at least bulletproof.

Whoever designed this place had assumed there would eventually be a firefight in the Control Center. Weird. It couldn't just be for us.

That wasn't the only thing I'd noticed, though. I also noticed that among the people running in from the door to the teleportation system, a significant group wore powered armor. It wasn't Rook-style, black bird-themed armor with wings. This was green and black. Not only that, the clear sections allowed a view of glowing versions of the different systems inside.

It was as if someone, maybe Rook, had been told to design armor that looked like an Alienware gaming PC. On the other hand, it might be that the teleportation system had been created and maintained by an entirely different evil genius with a different color scheme.

I noted both of the observations to my implant, telling it to share them with Tara, who'd be running this fight along with the team that would secure or destroy the teleportation systems. As one of the True, an artificially created human variant based on an Abominator design, she could handle a battle's details and predict the opposition's actions based on patterns no one else would see.

Tara hadn't yet dropped out of the hole herself, but between my spybots and everyone's cameras, she could see everything, and she was already giving orders.

"Rocket and Night Cat, goo up everyone near the far wall. Blue and Accelerando, take out the people in green armor. Something's not right about them. Be careful."

Ignoring my urge to check out the armor, I aimed the Rocket suit at the far wall. I'd make it before Haley would, allowing me to be the point of the spear and for her to choose targets in the chaos.

Despite how shocked they had to be to find us pouring out of the wall, the Nine's troops had discipline. Some had already begun to fire on us.

I started firing off goobots the moment Tara gave the order, the bots exploding and spreading goo across multiple, black armored soldiers in the Nine's legions of evil (or whatever).

As I did, my implant would label the targets, giving me snippets like:

Erin Watts: follows 18 fitness influencers. Has watched more than 43 videos involving breakfasts that include yogurt, fruit, granola, and nuts.

Phil Smoot: subject of a restraining order preventing him from going within 500 feet of a Nickelback concert.

J.P. Hall: collects stuffed turtles.

Ben Harkness: former photocopier technician.

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