Sam looked up after Golden Guardian, then back toward the statue. “Sure,” he said, with the easy confidence people expected from him. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” He wished people would stop asking him things like that right before leaving. It just invited the universe to do something to prove a point.
For a few minutes, everything stayed calm. Sam helped guide another loosened spike down from the crown, his gloved hands glowing faintly as he took the weight and steadied it for the workers below. “Careful now. She’s heavier than she looks.” He smiled up at one of the steeplejacks. “Aren’t we all?”
Then something caught his eye.
A boat. Not one of theirs. Sam’s smile faded. The men on the boat moved with almost military precision. Then came the glint of strange metal, leather jackets, and winged shapes unfolding against their backs “Oh, that’s not good.”
Golden light glowed under Sam’s skin, brightening along his hands and chest as he stepped to the edge of the platform. “Everyone down!” he called to the workers. “Now!” He bent his knees and launched himself from the statue. A streak of blue and gold cut through the air as he leapt toward the nearest work barge. He couldn’t fly like the Guardian, unfortunately, but he could make a jump count.
Sam landed hard enough to rock the boat, one hand catching the railing before it could tip too far. His eyes fixed on the men with the rocket packs. “Gentlemen,” he said, squaring his shoulders as his fists began to shine, “I don’t know what your plan is, but it’s over.”