[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/7bkbXx5.png[/img][/center]

In big, bold font the headline read, [b]"Century's Own Super?"[/b] Beneath, Peyton's expertly framed shot showed a glowing, green figure hefting the Mag-Rail above her head. Fortunately, the shot had been taken at such a distance -- and the glow had obscured any specific details -- so that even April didn't recognize herself in it. She had been understandably worried that she'd be waking up to uncomfortable questions, but no one had put two and two together yet. That was good. Putting herself out there had been a risk, and not a particularly calculated one at that. [color=ADFF2F][I]Have to be smarter next time.[/I][/color]

The very possibility of there being a "next time" still gave April pause. She had seemingly dodged a bullet this time; why risk exposing herself again? After all, hadn't she just told Jefferson not that long ago that she didn't want to be a hero? April couldn't fully explain her change of heart. Maybe she had taken some inspiration from her father, who gave his own life in pursuit of a better future for the world. Maybe she just saw people in need and couldn't turn her back. All she understood is how saving those people had made her feel in the moment, and how that feeling had lingered in the hours since.

[color=FF4500]"So, wait,"[/color] Jefferson began, drawing April out of her thoughts. She set the newspaper aside and looked across the booth at him. [color=FF4500]"You think the reactor explosion and the Mag-Rail accident are somehow related? Based on what?"[/color]

April gave a noncommittal shrug. [color=ADFF2F]"I don't know. Just a feeling, I guess."[/color] She couldn't stop thinking back to when Mickey asked her [I]why[/I] the reactor had exploded; obviously, he didn't know anything she didn't -- not unless he moonlit as a corporate saboteur -- but the implication was clear. [color=ADFF2F][I]Never take the facts for granted.[/I][/color] It would be easy enough to write the explosion off as an accident, but... April shifted in her seat, continuing, [color=ADFF2F]"You don't think it's odd that the Mag-Rail's emergency brakes failed at the [I]exact[/I] time that a delivery truck -- designed and controlled by Zenith -- took out a section of the track?"[/color]

Jeff didn't have a quick retort. Frowning, he considered her supposition. [color=FF4500]"I guess it's a little suspicious, but accidents happen,"[/color] he suggested meekly. [color=FF4500]"Besides, that's an isolated incident. What's the connection to the reactor meltdown?"[/color]

[color=ADFF2F]"Zenith!"[/color] April answered quickly, perhaps letting her bias bleed into her response. Before she could explain further, she caught sight of Luke approaching out of the corner of her eye. Biting her tongue, she offered the bartender a pleasant smile as he sat down two fresh pints for them. Once he was back out of earshot, April leaned forward and said, [color=ADFF2F]"Think about it. Two PR disasters in the same week? And that's only because no one got seriously hurt; it could've been a [I]lot[/I] worse. Someone's gunning for your company."[/color]

Jeff's frown deepened. [color=FF4500]"Well, I suppose someone with the technical know-how could have remotely controlled the delivery truck [I]and[/I] disabled the Mag-Rail's brakes..."[/color] He shook his head. [color=FF4500]"But that still doesn't make sense of the reactor explosion. We know what caused it; there was a malfunction in one of the runoff valves. It was so small that it would've taken a miracle to detect."[/color]

[color=ADFF2F]"Which covers the saboteur's tracks perfectly, doesn't it?"[/color] April argued. She could see by Jefferson's shifting reaction that she had struck a chord. [color=ADFF2F]"Besides, didn't I read something about the failure being due to a faulty control chip? If hacking is this guy's M.O., then maybe he found a way to access it externally."[/color]

Jefferson offered no rebuttal. Instead, he simply picked up his beer and downed a third of it in a single draft. Wiping the foam from his lips, he asked, [color=FF4500]"Okay, so what do we do about it?"[/color]

April raised an eyebrow. [color=ADFF2F]"We?"[/color]

Jeff nodded. Tapping the picture on the newspaper, he explained, [color=FF4500]"You've got skin in the game now, and you're gonna need someone to help you."[/color] He wasn't half-wrong. Jefferson had been there every step of the way already, and without his help April, might've never thought to test her limits the night before. As he detected her hesitation, his smile grew. [color=FF4500]"Come on... You know we need each other, so just say it."[/color] He raised his glass. [color=FF4500]"Partners?"[/color]

April couldn't hold her poker face for long. Finally smirking back at him, she faked a sigh and conceded, [color=ADFF2F]"Okay, fine. [I]Partners.[/I]"[/color] Jefferson wiggled his outstretched glass expectantly, and April toasted it with her own, chuckling.

[color=FF4500]"Excellent! So, I already have some ideas for the costume."[/color]

April choked on her beer, rasping, [color=ADFF2F]"... Costume?"[/color]

[center]-----[/center]

Sinclair Davis sat behind her black marble desk, fingers steepled beneath her chin. The Zenith executive watched with an exacting gaze as her colleagues across the desk etched their signatures to the contract. Today's signing marked the end to a lengthy merger negotiation, but Sinclair had personally seen to it that Zenith Dynamics' interests were secured. The absorption of Simonis Pharmaceuticals represented a huge leap forward in an area where Zenith had lagged behind its peers. Once the ink dried on the final signature, Sinclair's assistant, Kyra, scooped up the contracts.

Standing, Sinclair offered a hand across the desk. [color=FF0000]"Gentlemen, we look forward to bringing you into the fold,"[/color] she said, offering a cool smile which never truly reached her eyes. The two Simonis executives shaked her hand in turn, then buttoned their jackets and saw themselves out. Sinclair waited until she was sure they were out of earshot before muttering, [color=FF0000]"All too easy."[/color] She had seen the reports; the Simonis R&D techs were on the verge of a breakthrough which would skyrocket the company's valuation. They never should've settled for Zenith's price. Then again, Sinclair's talent for manipulation often yielded great dividends in her company's favor.

The holographic computer screen at Sinclair's desk blinked an alert. Recognizing it, she turned to Kyra and said, [color=FF0000]"Get those contracts down to legal, and tell marcomm that I want a press release drawn up before the end of the day."[/color] She had put in the work; it was time for a victory lap. Dismissing the assistant, Sinclair took her seat and reached for the remote at the edge of her desk. At the press of a button, the semicircular windows which ringed her office began to darken. Once her privacy had been assured, she tapped her screen and brought up the new message.

[quote][I][b]MR. BLACK[/b] has joined the chat.[/I]

[b]MR. BLACK:[/b] I'm ready for a new target.[/quote]

Sinclair watched the blinking cursor. Pursing her lips, she tapped in her response.

[quote][color=FF0000][b]ENCRYPTED USER:[/b][/color] Why should I trust you again after last night's debacle?

[b]MR. BLACK:[/b] That was an unexpected complication.

[b]MR. BLACK:[/b] I'll be ready for her next time.[/quote]

Sinclair's eyes drifted to her second screen, where the Chronicle's article about the Mag-Rail accident was still displayed. When she handed over the files exposing the vulnerability in the Mag-Rail's security protocols, she had expected a firework show. After all, the entire impetus for getting involved in this sordid affair was the expectation that these accidents would sour public perception on Zenith's top brass. So long as everyone involved kept walking away scot-free, Sinclair's vision would never truly be fulfilled.

To understand Sinclair's motivation for working against her own company, one had to understand her history. Sinclair had joined Zenith Dynamics straight out of school. For a time, she worked as a recruiter, bringing in top talent and overseeing their projects. Her unique combination of skills earned her successive promotions until finally she was working directly under the CEO, Malcolm Vance. At that time, Malcolm's son, Isaac, was more concerned with drinking and philandering than getting involved in the family business. In his absence, Sinclair was groomed as the heir apparent to the whole Zenith empire. And then, Malcolm grew ill.

Like the proverbial prodigal son, Isaac came running home and made amends with his father. Despite his complete lack of experience, he was handed the keys to the kingdom. Sinclair was [I]livid[/I]. Her only solace was the expectation that the younger Vance's true colors would eventually prevail, but he had managed to avoid a meltdown so far. That was why she had decided to manufacture one. All she had needed was the proper stooge, and as it happened, one had fallen directly into her lap. Sinclair had been the saboteur's inside contact -- anonymously, of course; she wasn't foolish enough to expose herself.

[quote][color=FF0000][b]ENCRYPTED USER:[/b][/color] Perhaps it's time to up the collateral damage.

[color=FF0000][b]ENCRYPTED USER:[/b][/color] This should help.[/quote]

Sinclair began transmitting files for a project codenamed "Sentinel."

[quote][b]MR. BLACK:[/b] I like the way you think.

[b]MR. BLACK:[/b] Nothing will stop me this time. Not even the girl.

[I][b]MR. BLACK[/b] has disconnected.[/I][/quote]

Sinclair closed the chat. In its place, she opened the folder containing all the files related to the cold fusion reactor experiment. Clicking through a few subfolders, she finally came upon a set of MP4 files from the day of the explosion. As she opened one, she was greeted with security camera footage from the reactor room. In the moments before the meltdown, the crowd began to scatter... but a single figure emerged. Tapping the screen, Sinclair slowed the playback. She cycled through the camera angles until finally landing on the one which granted the clearest view of the errant reporter. With the hair and glasses in her face, she was almost impossible to identify.

A flash of brilliant green light illuminated the girl. Sinclair paused the video there. She compared the image side-by-side with the photograph from the Chronicle. [color=FF0000][I]It's her,[/I][/color] Sinclair thought with certainty. She leaned forward, studying every available pixel. Whoever this girl was... Sinclair sensed that there was much to learn from her.