Stand Off

Booker stood before me, an unreadable expression on his face, and I immediately sensed that his news would be grim. His voice came out taut and strained. "The Harbingers of Doom intercepted her," he said, each word weighted with dread.

An icy chill coursed through me. There was a moment when my thoughts seemed to jam up, like gears in an overworked machine. "What exactly are you saying, Booker?" I managed to ask, forcing down the panic trying to bubble up in my throat. I didn't want to hear his answer, yet I also needed to know every detail.

"All I've been told," Booker replied, eyes shifting anxiously, "is that Aaliah was on a mission to protect a small city outside Atlanta. She got tangled up with some of their members. Nobody has heard from her since."

My mind raced. This was awful—beyond awful. The Harbingers of Doom were known for their cruelty and for capturing metahumans they deemed a threat. If they had Aaliah, her situation would have been perilous. Every fiber of my being screamed that I should race off to save her immediately. But what about the training? I wasn't sure how much further I needed to go before I was truly ready for such a dangerous confrontation.

And then there was Booker himself. I had no idea how advanced he'd become. If we set off together, how much risk was I exposing him to? Could he defend himself adequately? My concern for Aaliah battled with the urge to protect Booker as well; I knew he'd want to come, and the thought of dragging him into a potential death trap weighed heavily on me.

Booker asked the question I dreaded, "What are we going to do, Kaleb?"

My jaw tightened before I responded, "Who else knows about Aaliah's capture?"

"Sentinel Solutions is aware," Booker explained, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "They've already been trying to free a bunch of heroes who were caught, but there's no confirmation they can get to her in time. There's no telling if they'll manage to rescue her at all."

I recalled how big Sentinel Solutions was—one of the largest organizations coordinating metahumans for rescue and security operations. Despite their size, they had limited resources and no guarantee they'd prioritize a single rookie over more seasoned captives.

I couldn't just stand around. "The right thing to do would be to go find her," I said, thinking aloud, "but if we act without authorization, we might end up in more trouble than we can handle. Besides, we're still in training."

"What if we work alongside the independent heroes?" Booker suggested. "They're not tied to the same rules as the big organizations."

I mulled over the idea. There was an undeniable appeal to going rogue, but the possible consequences loomed large in my mind. In the worst-case scenario, if we caused collateral damage or compromised someone else's operation, we could be labeled vigilantes—or even criminals—and face imprisonment.

But Booker's eyes pleaded with me. "We have to do something, Kaleb."

Unable to stand the tension any longer, I grabbed Booker by the arm, and we set out to find Rem, my trainer. We made our way to her office, which was near the training complex. When she answered the door, her expression shifted from mild surprise to immediate concern.

"Kaleb, I thought you'd be resting," she said softly, noticing my agitated state.

I stepped inside, with Booker trailing behind me. "Something serious has happened," I said, my tone low and urgent. Rem immediately gave me her full attention.

I explained, "My sister—Aaliah—has been taken by The Harbingers of Doom. She went on a mission near Atlanta, and she was intercepted. We want to go find her."

A heaviness settled in the room, and Rem's face hardened. "The Harbingers of Doom?" she repeated quietly, shaking her head. "If they have her, there's no telling what they'll do. They're relentless, and they don't negotiate."

My voice trembled with anger and frustration. "If they won't release her willingly," I declared, "then I'll handle the situation myself."

Rem held up a hand, trying to calm me. "Look, I understand how desperate you are, but you can't just rush off. Let me see if I can arrange a meeting with higher-ups."

I scoffed slightly. "You know how they are," I said, crossing my arms. "They'll oppose any unauthorized mission, especially one involving trainees."

She breathed in deeply, conceding the point with a nod. "Still, it's better than going behind their backs outright. Let me set this up."

I knew Rem was right, but frustration gnawed at me. "Fine," I muttered through clenched teeth. "But if their answer is unreasonable, I'll do whatever I have to. Message me the time and place of the meeting. I'll be there."

I turned and left, with Booker quietly following. Back in my room, I threw together a bag of my belongings—essentials I might need if I left for a rescue mission. My thoughts swirled with anger and worry: This was precisely the scenario I'd been training to prevent, and now it was happening before I was fully prepared.

As I zipped my bag shut, I accidentally scraped my finger. "Ow," I hissed, slamming my other hand against the desk in irritation. The impact was more forceful than I intended, causing the entire room to rattle. "Stupid bag," I muttered, cursing under my breath.

A sharp knock came at my door moments later. "Kaleb, it's Booker," he called. "They scheduled the meeting in five minutes. We have to go."

I hurriedly opened the door, the bag still in hand, and followed Booker to the meeting room. Inside, we found a long table where three corporate executives sat, along with Joe Wann, a leading figure at Sentinel Solutions. Rem was already standing, waiting to address them.

"Apologies for the late notice," Rem started, her voice calm but resolute. "We had no choice but to call this meeting. It couldn't wait."

One of the executives—a stern-faced woman named Cecelia—regarded Rem with clear annoyance. "This is the second time you've called an emergency meeting," she said curtly. "You're well aware that we can revoke your level-five clearance if you keep this up."

Rem didn't flinch under Cecelia's gaze. "It's important," she countered, her tone unwavering. "One of our trainees' siblings has fallen into the hands of the Harbingers of Doom."

Cecelia shrugged dismissively. "So?" she retorted. "They signed up for this line of work. It's part of the risk. Why is it suddenly everyone's problem?"

Anger flared inside me. I clenched my fists but forced myself to stay quiet—for the moment. Another executive, a more sympathetic man named Paul, stepped in. "Cecelia, we're all metahumans here. If the roles were reversed, wouldn't you want someone to try to save you?"

Gabriel, the third executive, cleared his throat, injecting a tone of caution. "No one is disputing that it's unfortunate, but we can't ignore the facts: The Harbingers have unknown numbers and unknown powers. It's immensely risky to send an inexperienced party in without intel."

"All the more reason not to intervene," Cecelia cut in. "We'd be throwing resources, and possibly more lives, into the fire."

My fury boiled over. I slammed my palm onto the table, causing a reverberating thud. The entire room went silent. "We came here hoping you'd offer support," I said, my voice shaking with rage. "But if you won't, that won't stop me." My tone softened slightly as I continued, "This is my sister. I'll do whatever it takes."

Joe Wann, who had remained quiet until now, leaned forward, arms crossed. "Rem," he said, directing his attention to my trainer, "where does your student stand with his training? Is he capable of handling himself?"

She hesitated for a moment, perhaps weighing the pros and cons of the truth. Finally, she gave a small nod. "He's demonstrated strong potential, and he's advanced rapidly over the last few sessions."

Cecelia turned her attention to Booker, arching a brow. "And what about you? Are you prepared?"

Booker, visibly anxious under scrutiny, simply replied, "It shouldn't matter. I'll be there for my sister, no matter what."

Cecelia rolled her eyes. "In any event," she said dryly, "my position stands. This is a bad idea."

Paul exhaled and spread his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm inclined to grant permission, provided they accept the risks."

Gabriel, rubbing his chin, nodded. "That's precisely my concern. If you proceed without adequate intel, you could be walking into a trap. But if you insist, at least understand the consequences."

At this point, Cecelia turned to Joe. "Joe, this is a terrible plan," she pleaded. "If we authorize them and things go sideways, we might all be on the chopping block."

My anger had reached a tipping point. I rose from my chair, leveling a glare in Cecelia's direction. "You hate yourself," I said bluntly, "and you take it out on everyone you meet. I'm tired of it." My fists clenched at my sides. "If I wanted, I could make each one of you get up and go rescue her yourselves. But I'd rather do this the right way, with your help, or at least without your obstruction."

Tension hung in the air like a thick fog. Then Joe Wann straightened his posture, taking command of the moment. "All right," he began, his voice cutting through the tension. "This meeting is necessary. I've heard each side: Cecelia's reservations, Paul's support, Gabriel's caution, and the unwavering commitment from Kaleb and Booker." He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the entire assembly.

After a moment of silence, Joe delivered the final ruling. "They can go," he said plainly.

A swirl of relief, apprehension, and determination churned inside me. I couldn't help but lock eyes with Booker, who exhaled a breath he'd been holding. Rem, standing slightly behind us, folded her arms and gave me the faintest nod of encouragement. Cecelia threw up her hands, but she offered no further argument. Paul looked relieved, and Gabriel wore an expression that suggested he had reservations but understood the logic behind letting us try.

With the meeting adjourned, I walked out of that conference room knowing that the real challenge was only just beginning. We were on our way to try to rescue Aaliah—and, by extension, to challenge The Harbingers of Doom. Even though I realized that this single permission slip didn't guarantee success—or safety—I felt a surge of gratitude that at least we wouldn't be fugitives from the very organization we'd sworn to serve.

As Booker and I headed down the corridor, Rem caught up to me and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Don't do anything reckless," she cautioned. "If I can gather any intel, I'll send it your way."

I nodded, face set with grim determination. "I promise we'll try to keep our heads. But we can't just abandon Aaliah."

Rem sighed. "I wouldn't expect you to," she said softly. Then she stepped back. "Go get ready. I'll contact you as soon as I have more information."

With that, Booker and I continued on our path, each footstep echoing in the hallway. My heart hammered, the magnitude of the situation finally sinking in. I was about to pit myself, a still-in-training hero, against one of the most fearsome villain organizations of this era. But Aaliah was my sister—and that alone overrode any concern for my safety. If there was even a slight chance that I could bring her home, I had to try.