Chapter 21

              About an hour had passed since the plane took off from headquarters, and the group was having quite the lively discussion.

            “I would’ve figured out eventually!” Catgirl asserted. “You guys don’t look that different from your everyday selves.”

            “The same goes for you,” Kid Lightning countered.

            “Though the ears and tail add to the disguise,” Fox added.

            Catgirl and her cousins were seated with The Spektrum in a circle of seats, with a tray of snacks between the four of them.

            “Speaking of ears and a tail,” The Spektrum said as he looked to his left, “where are yours, ‘Tiger’?”

            “I don’t like how I look with them,” he answered conceitedly. “But I must say, they look really great on you, kitty cat.”

            Catgirl growled at him. His arrogance and his unwanted flirting were wearing on her. Now she understood Karina’s loathing for “X”.

            Catgirl turned around to look at Homeboy, who was sitting a few rows behind her group of four.

            “Hey, Homeboy, what’s New York like? I’ve always wanted to go and see Broadway or Times Square.”

            “Well, I’ve never been to Broadway,” he replied. “But I have been to Times Square. It’s great. As for the rest of New York, it’s a little like how television and stuff portrays it. It’s busy, a little crowded, and sadly there’s crime.”

            Homeboy seemed to get even quieter than he was before after saying all that.

            “Why don’t you sit up here with us?” Catgirl asked.

            “Yeah,” The Spektrum (as Code Silver) joined in. “We’ve got corn chips and bean dip~!”

            Homeboy chuckled, and got up.

            “Alright, I guess I can’t pass those up,” he joked back.

            Catgirl smiled as Homeboy sat down and joined the four of them. People being friendly and having friends was very important to Catgirl.

            Minus Tiger, the super teens shared snacks and generalized stories where the names of people and local locations were left out.

            “Our McDonald’s drive thru almost NEVER gets it right,” Fox brought up.

            “Like this last time,” Kid Lightning continued, “they forgot to put the BUNS on the burger!”

            Everyone (except Tiger) laughed and asked “What?!”

            “That’s the beginning and end of the sandwich!” The Spektrum pointed out. “How do you forget where to start?”

            “Well somehow it happened,” Kid Lightning said while laughing.

            The seatbelt light turned on with a DING, and everyone sat up and buckled in. A minute or so after that, the plane began to dip, and they knew they had finally arrived at New York.

            The plane hit the landing strip, and not a moment too soon, because The Spektrum felt the medicine wear off and his motion sickness returned. The plane coasted to a stop, and the seatbelt light went off. The agents opened the door, and the six super-teens filed out.

            “This is Floyd Bennett Field,” Homeboy explained. “It’s closer to Brooklyn than JFK International, but still pretty far.”

            “Don’t worry,” one of the agents said. “We’ve got a rental.”

            The same agent waved over to the building, and a brand new Cadillac Escalade drove up in front of them.

            “We’re driving up in this?!” Homeboy asked. “I think the Sons of Brooklyn will notice us if we show up in a shiny new Escalade!”

            “That’s the plan,” one of the other agents said. “There’s a good chance they’ll pay attention to you all with this, and will approach you.”

            “But that’s kinda my point!” Homeboy said adamantly.

            Without another word, the first agent traded places with the driver, and the second agent ushered everyone inside the car. Reluctantly, Homeboy went along with what was certainly the boldest and most dangerous plan he ever heard, as did the others.

            “I’m sitting next to Catgirl,” Tiger claimed.

            “Uh, no!” Catgirl asserted. “The Spektrum is.”

            The Spektrum smiled to himself, proud and flattered by Catgirl’s choice.

            “But Homeboy’s gotta take shotgun,” Tiger said. “He’ll help the driver navigate.”

            “Yeah,” Fox spoke up, “which means The Spektrum and Catgirl get the middle two seats…”

            “And you get to sit with us,” Kid Lightning added, “Catgirl’s cousins.”

            Kid Lightning gave Tiger a smirk, communicating his defensive stance towards said cousin.

            Reluctantly, Tiger made his way to the back row of the Cadillac, and took a window seat. Kid Lightning took the other back window seat, with Fox in between them. Catgirl and The Spektrum took the two bucket seats, The Spektrum letting Catgirl in first. Homeboy took the front passenger seat, and once everyone had buckled in, the Cadillac drove out onto the main street.

            “This is Flatbush Avenue,” Homeboy explained. “All we gotta do is stay on it and we’ll arrive at Church Avenue.”

            “But how far is that?” The Spektrum asked.

            “I don’t know,” Homeboy admitted. “Maybe 5 miles or so?”

            The Cadillac continued on, speeding up a bit.

            “That won’t take too long in this,” the driver said.

            The Cadillac zoomed by the local sights: a golf course, a Toys R Us, a seafood restaurant.

            “Oh~!” Catgirl said as she leaned closer to The Spektrum so she could see out his window.

Her tail wagged, and The Spektrum could swear she was purring.

            “Maybe later, Cousin,” Fox said. “Mission first.”

            Catgirl giggled as she sat back, and The Spektrum calmed down. Her beauty was his kryptonite.

            They soon passed by a large open field, then a shopping plaza, and stopped at another main street.

            “Avenue U, part of Kings,” Homeboy noted. “Pretty busy on the weekends. Keep going forward, we‘ve still got a ways to go.”

            The driver complied, and on the green light, the Cadillac continued heading along Flatbush Avenue.

            Tiger stared out the window, only glancing at Catgirl in front of him from time to time. He didn’t understand why she turned him down. He was handsome, wasn’t he? More so than that Spektrum guy, at least. Shouldn’t that be enough? Tiger just couldn’t understand why she was the first girl that didn’t throw herself at him.

            Having her cousins next to him was a bit of a tough spot, too. They’re already on his case with the whole seating arrangement. He just had to wait for a proper opening to use his charm on her.

            Ten minutes had passed, but they weren’t any closer to Church Avenue.

            “How much longer?!” Tiger groaned.

Catgirl glared at him over her shoulder. Tiger clearly lost a few more points off his score.

            “Don’t worry,” Homeboy said. “We just passed both Foster and Clarendon, we’ll be there in a few more minutes.”

            Tiger leaned his head against the window. He always had a problem with patience.

            “Here,” Homeboy announced when they had come to a church. “Flatbush Reformed, the first church on Church Avenue. Turn right.”

            The driver complied, and drove down Church Avenue to the East. Everyone else found out why it was named such after passing another church, the “Holy Cross RC Church”, only two blocks after the first, and could see another church’s steeple from about half a dozen blocks away. But since this was a Saturday, not a Sunday, the street wasn’t busy with church goers but the hustle and bustle of shoppers.

            “You can pull over here,” Homeboy said as they drive up to a Rite Aid. “It doesn’t matter what you guys think works, I’d rather we sneak up on the S.O.B’s.”

            Catgirl was confused, and looked to The Spektrum.

            “Does he mean sons of-”

            “No,” he answered before she finished. “It’s for Sons of Brooklyn. It’s an acronym of their gang name. It was used in the news reports about them.”

            Catgirl mouthed “Oh!” and smiled. The Spektrum figured she was a bit naïve, but that in itself was cute.

            The driver reluctantly complied with Homeboy’s plan. He pulled over and parked the SUV.

            “I’ll be around,” he said. “Just return to this exact spot and I’ll get you.”

            The six super-teens got out of the Cadillac, and Homeboy led them down the street towards a McDonald’s while the SUV drove down one of the side streets.

            As the group approached the fast food restaurant, two young African-American men exited the McDonald’s. One was just a tad chubbier than the other, and was wearing a green windbreaker, while the other wore a light-grey Hoody. They both recognized Homeboy with ease.

            “Yo, yo, Homeboy!” the chubby one called out. “Where ya been, man?!”

            “And who are these guys?” the one in the Hoody asked. “Especially this fine young lady…!”

            “Slow it down, Hood Rat,” Homeboy said. “The cat’s taken.”

            “Whoa, wait! ‘Cat’?” the chubby one in green asked. “That’s Catgirl, isn’t it?”

            “And that’s The Spektrum,” the other noticed. “What’re California kids doing here?!”

            “Friends of yours, I take it?” The Spektrum asked Homeboy.

            “Yeah,” Homeboy answered. “Mikey here’s nicknamed Hood Rat ‘cause he’s always wearing his hoodies. And this is Gerald in the green.”

            “But we usually call him ‘Big Green’ or ‘G-Belly,’” ‘Hood Rat’ Mikey joked. “But seriously, what’re all of them doing here?”

            “Let’s talk somewhere else,” Homeboy advised. “Hood Rat’s place should be big enough.”

            “Yeah, sure thing,” Hood Rat agreed.

He looked around for oncoming cars before leading the group across the street and down Nostrand Avenue. Down at the end of the block, the Church of Pentecost stood reverent and peaceful. As they were headed down, two other young men, wearing black hoodies with the hoods up, were walking up. Homeboy noticed them, and dread appeared on his face.

            “Damn it…” he growled. “We should’ve changed back before arriving.”

            “Why?” Tiger asked.

            “Because we’re all sticking out!” Homeboy answered. “Those are S.O.B’s.”

            The others looked at the two hooded strangers, and noticed the letters S, O, and B printed on their hoodies in spray paint stencil style.

            “They don’t look that tough,” Tiger commented. “What’s the deal?”

            “They’ll recognize The Spektrum and Catgirl,” Homeboy pointed out. “And they might recognize my H! I’m sure the guys I fought weeks ago would.”

            “So, what’re we supposed to do?” Catgirl asked, a bit frantic. “Change right here in public?”

            Hood Rat looked Catgirl up and down.

            “By ‘change’, are we talking…?”

            “No, Hood Rat, we’re not,” Homeboy said before his friend anything more. “But she’s gotta point. We can’t just do that out in the open.”

            Homeboy zipped up his jacket, covering the orange H. Catgirl made sure she stayed out of the S.O.B. boys’ sight as she held on to her tail.

            The two groups passed by each other casually, only taking a few seconds, but it felt much longer than that to Catgirl. She may have taken down ten guys at a time, but she wasn’t ready for two guys who likely had guns, or dozens of reinforcements just waiting to appear.

            Once the two Sons of Brooklyn had passed them by, the group of eight quickened their pace to Hood Rat’s house. They continued down Nostrand Avenue and turned left onto Tiden Avenue, then right on E 31^st Street.

            “Sheesh,” Tiger complained. “Three more churches! They’re everywhere!”

            “That’s because there’s this little thing called ‘religion,’” The Spektrum said. “Ever heard of it?”

            “Oh so lemme guess,” Tiger said, sounding even more snobbish, “you’re religious? And now you’ll go on this big monologue about the power of God, and spend the whole time we’re here trying to convert us no matter what, right?”

            “Yes to the first, no to the rest,” The Spektrum replied calmly. “I AM a Baptist Christian, but no, I’m not going to force you. I have my own personal problems I’m working out, soI have no right to go on about what is right and wrong when I’m not even following ‘the right way’ all that well myself.”

            Catgirl looked at The Spektrum with even stronger respect now. She admired how he was so able to admit that he had flaws, unlike a certain other guy in the group. Her family had raised her Baptist, too, so now they had that in common. Though, she then felt guilty over not saying so. She started planning on ways to say so later.

            They finally arrived at Hood Rat’s home, the seventh house on the left. It, and all the houses in the neighborhood, looked just like the kind of place Peter Parker lived in in the Spider-Man movies: they were all narrow, cookie-cutter complexes with only the sidewalk as their front yard and the steps as their porch. Hood Rat pulled out his house keys and opened the front door. He then led everyone to the small den and turned the television on.

            Catgirl went to sit down on the couch, but Tiger was close behind. She decided to instead stand by her cousins and The Spektrum, while Homeboy took the other seat.

            “So… Hood Rat,” Fox asked hesitantly, making sure he got the nickname right. “Who lives here with you?”

            “Just Mom and Pops,” Mikey shrugged. “I’m an only child, too, so we’ll be here by ourselves while my parents are at work. Now, WHY are y‘all here in Brooklyn?”

            Over the next half hour, Homeboy explained all that had been happening over the last few weeks: the special business cards given to them all by the secret organization of Anonymous Inc.; the fact that the same organization had members almost anywhere in the world, and were able to acquire almost anything you could think of; the conference call and in-person meeting they all had with organization leader, Mr. Darklite, at Anonymous Inc. Headquarters; and finally, their covert mission here to dismantle the dangerous street gang, the Sons of Brooklyn.

            “Whoa…” Gerald and Mikey said in unison.

            “So this is like one of those ‘heroes unite’ moments,” Gerald commented, “where someone gathers you all together so that you can now fight for common goals.”

            “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, man!” Mikey shouted. “It’s about TIME we get those damn punks outta our neighborhood!”

            “But how?” Gerald asked. “You just gonna go up to one and say, ‘Hey, there! If you don’t mind, could you call your buddies out? We’re here to beat you all up and arrest you’?!”

            “I guess that was the only plan in mind,” Catgirl admitted. “We had asked Mr. Darklite if he could spare some sort of armed back-up, but he said we’d be fine without it.”

            “Six people? Against an entire gang?” Hood Rat’s voice reflected his skepticism. “THAT’S what your leader thought would work?”

            “Weren’t you just 100% behind us a minute ago?” Homeboy asked.

            “When I thought your boss had everything under control! He expects you all to fight an entire gang!”

            “Doesn’t seem like that big a deal to me,” The Spektrum said, now switched from Code Silver to Code Blue. Everyone had looked at him in disbelief.

            “Whaddya mean it isn’t a big deal?” Hood Rat asked. “Homeboy barely beat those six guys the first time, and the neighborhood’s been crawling with S.O.B. scouts ever since lookin’ for him!”

            “I’ve been fighting full-fledged criminals who have been trying to take me out of action ever since they arrived,” The Spektrum pointed out. “I’m more than ready for this.”

            Hood Rat was rather shocked by The Spektrum’s gung-ho attitude. Gerald and the others were impressed.

            “Well, if he’s more than ready,” Tiger said, standing up. “I’m unbelievably ready!”

            “Then so are we,” the three cousins answered together.

            “We’ll make this the first ever victory for our team!” Catgirl said as she punched the air. Then, a quizzical look came over her face. “Wait… what is our team name?”

            The guys all thought about it. The organization, Anonymous Inc., brought them together, but using “Anonymous” as a part of their team name wouldn’t be very creative. But they still needed a catchy name to go by.

            “Power Surge,” The Spektrum finally said after deep thought.

            “What…?” Catgirl asked, looking at him curiously.

            “That’s our name. The thing that gave us our superpowers, that made us stand out and gave us a way to fight back, was that electrical power surge. We are The Power Surge!”

            “That’s perfect!” Catgirl said.

            “Works for us,” Fox and Kid Lightning said.

            “Alright, now that we’ve got a name,” Homeboy said, “how is The Power Surge going to lure out the Sons of Brooklyn?”

            The super-teens thought about that for only a moment.

            “The Anonymous Inc. Agent said it, and so did Hood Rat,” Fox said. “They’re all looking for Homeboy.”

            “So that’s what we’ll give them,” Kid Lightning continued.

            “What?!” Both Gerald and Hood Rat were shocked.

            “You can’t be serious,” Gerald begged. “You’re going to use the brother as bait!?”

            “We are,” Fox replied. “But where there is bait, there is a trap. Let me explain.”

 

            Sylfia finally arrived in an open field in Red Oak, Iowa, the helicopter that dropped her off heading off again. The street signs nearby read Oakwood Avenue and S 8^th Street. There were trees along the roads and beaten paths, but it was all grass and dirt everywhere else. She looked around, but didn’t see who she was sent here for. Had they made a mistake in their intelligence reports?

            “Have faith, Sylfia,” Ultrain said. “They wouldn’t mislead you.”

            Sylfia looked at her charm bracelet, specifically at the emerald green spherical charm.

            “I have faith, Ultrain,” she replied. “But I don’t necessarily have trust in them. This whole thing seems… too much. And I’m talking to a Dragon Man that lives inside my bracelet.”

            A loud clang echoed out, and Sylfia recognized it as metal hitting metal. She looked around and only saw a couple of people in the distance. She couldn’t make out any details about them from so far away.

            “Wait, could those two be…?”

            Sylfia was doubtful that they had powers. What would Vince and Randy be doing out here? However, her doubts were demolished when she saw a flash of green fire erupt and plume into the sky. She immediately started jogging over as best as she could in her blue cowgirl-style boots. Her outfit, the exact same outfit her Enchanted Excellence character wore, was not made for running around in real life, despite what her character can do in-game.

            “Hey!!” she called out. “Hey!!”

            The two young men looked at Sylfia in surprise. One was about half a foot taller and much more imposing than the other. The taller one had long black hair and wore dark-gray armor with red trimming and symbols. The other’s hair was short and bright golden-yellow, and his armor was silver and gold. Were they knights? Both had broad swords in hand.

            “Are you Vince and Randy?” she called out as she got closer.

            “How do you know who we are?” the taller one asked her.

            “I’m…” she hesitated. “I was sent here to recruit you.”

            “Recruit?” the golden-haired knight. “To what?”

            “A special organization,” she answered. “That wants to help those like us! Those hit by that enormous power surge and were given these powers!”

            “You have powers?” the tall one in dark armor questioned. Now he was the doubtful one. “Prove it.”

            “W-What?”

            “Prove that you have powers, then prove that there is such an organization!”

            The tall one brought up his sword, and aimed to swing it at Sylfia! She needed to act fast.

            “Terra Clypeum!” she shouted as she pressed her hand into the grass.

            Firing up from the ground, a wall of dirt and sod rose and blocked the dark-armored knight’s blade.

            “You have dark hair,” Sylfia pointed out. “So you must be Randy.”

            “Aye, fair maiden,” he said in his best Old English accent. “But you may call me ‘Rancor, the Devastator!’ And what, pray tell, might your name be?”

            “Sylfia,” she answered.

            “Well, Sylfia,” the other said as he circled around the wall of dirt, “you are skilled with magic, but I bet that means you aren’t a fighter!”

            As Vince rushed, his sword ready to thrust, Sylfia touched the dirt wall.

            “Casarus!” she shouted.

            At her words, the portion of the wall in front of her fell apart, and it fell on Vince, burying him up to his shoulders.

            Randy, or rather, “Rancor”, laughed heartily at his friend‘s folly.

            “Vastroyan, you leapt before you looked. I shall show you the proper way to defeat one who wields elemental magic!”

            Rancor swaggered between “Vastroyan” and Sylfia, and gripped his sword with both hands.

            “Your strategy is to show how conceited you are?” Vastroyan mocked.

            “Silence, knave!”

            Rancor and Sylfia waited for the other to even so much as flinch. Several seconds passed before the tension and anticipation hit a climax.

            Rancor shot forward, his sword above his head. Sylfia jumped back right away, touching the ground again.

            “Crescere!” she shouted. Suddenly, the blades of grass sprang up all around her.

            Rancor stopped himself, and adjusted. Instead of swinging down as he had planned, Rancor swung the sword sideways, slicing through dozens of blades at once.

            “Ventus Tempestas!” Sylfia shouted as she swung her hand left-to-right.

            A powerful and persistent gust of wind blew the cut pieces of grass up into the air. Rancor and Vastroyan shielded their faces with their swords.

            “Ah!” he barked in pain. “The grass was made sharper by your growth spell. You were also prepared for when I cut them down.”

            Sylfia giggled and winked as she turned to a middle page in her book.

            “Vi Retro!”

            A sudden force shoved Rancor back on his heels, and he stabbed his sword into the ground. He held on to his sword, and used it as an anchor to resist the invisible pushing power.

            Vastroyan dug himself out from under the pile of dirt with the help of a silver-and-gold shield that had formed itself out of light from his left arm.

            “Enough!” Vastroyan shouted. “She has proven her power!”

            Sylfia cancelled her spell, and closed her book. Rancor felt the invisible force let up, and he pulled his sword from out of the ground. Both he and Vastroyan then sheathed their swords, and stood together with Sylfia.

            “Now, fair Sylfia,” Vastroyan said with a charming smile, “prove to us this organization exists.”

            Syflia smiled, and looked up. She waved to the helicopter, which had been circling high above the whole time. It landed nearby, and after their transformed into their normal selves, Randy, Vince, and Sophia entered the helicopter, and told their origin stories to each other as they were flown back to Anonymous Headquarters.

 

            Homeboy looked up and down Church Avenue, and saw quite a few members of the Sons of Brooklyn. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and unzipped his jacket, revealing his bright orange H. Immediately, he heard murmurs of “Is that him?” coming from all around.

            “That’s right, Sons o’ Brooklyn!” he shouted. “It’s ya Homeboy, right here! Come ‘n’ get me!”

            As planned, Homeboy ran down Nostrand Avenue, the dozen or so Sons of Brooklyn who were listening chasing after him.

            He ran past the Walgreens, past the bus stop, and past the Dunkin’ Donuts and was almost to the intersection between Nostrand Avenue and Erasmus Street.

            The walk signal was still going when he had passed the day-care. He waited until the Sons of Brooklyn had passed that by, and until he had made it halfway through the crosswalk before giving the signal.

            “BLUE!” he shouted.

            “Three, two, one!”

            The Spektrum Code Blue launched himself out from Erasmus Street as the Sons had started running across the crosswalk, barreling down two or three of them. Catgirl hurried out behind him, kicking one of the guys The Spektrum had knocked down.

            “What the Hell?!” one of them shouted. “They ambushed us!”

            “Is that the Alameda Catgirl and The Spektrum?!”

            “It doesn’t matter!” the lead S.O.B shouted. “You deal with them, we’re goign after Homeboy!”

            The Sons of Brooklyn split up, a good six or seven still following after Homeboy down Nostrand Avenue.

            Catgirl leapt forward, right hand punching slightly to the left. Her target easily dodged by leaning to his left, but Catgirl’s elbow came spinning in so fast her hair whipped around, and the guy’s nose was broken. He stumbled back with blood gushing out, and one of his fellow Sons struck back. Catgirl was hit in the chin with a fist wrapped in a leather belt, and she stumbled into a parked car.

            “Cat!”

            The Spektrum tackled the Son with the leather-belt fist, knocking into a second parked car. The Spektrum then yanked him down by his New York Knicks jersey, and began stomping. He only stopped stomping because another Son of Brooklyn knocked him off. Catgirl reentered the fight with a running dropkick that knocked the thug onto his backside.

            “Screw fighting ‘em,” one shouted. “Just shoot ‘em!”

            The S.O.B’s scrambled to pull their guns out from their pants waists. They took aim and opened fire without even hesitating.

            Catgirl panicked and froze, but The Spektrum simply wrapped her in his arms and activated Blue’s Force Field. The dome of light appeared around the two of them, and the S.O.B’s bullets bounced off the outside, being deflected into the nearby trees and car windows.

            “Whoa! What?!” The Sons of Brooklyn were surprised.

            “Just keep shooting!” one shouted.

            Bullets continued to fire from their guns, and fly off in all directions, but the Sons of Brooklyn didn’t let up.

            “Hitting girls is one thing,” Code Blue growled. “But trying to kill one? Now I‘m pissed.”

            The guns stopped firing, having spent all their bullets. The Sons hurried to reload, and Code Blue became Code Red, swapping the force field for Over Drive. In a blur of red, The Spektrum slammed one into the window of a restaurant, but not hard enough to break it, then grabbed another by the arm and whipped him face first into the side of a red SUV. The final one managed to load the next gun magazine, but Catgirl disarmed him with a swiping kick, and knocked him out with a spinning back kick from the left leg. Catgirl walked over to The Spektrum as the three Sons of Brooklyn all slid to the ground in heaps.

            “Thanks for… all that,” she said.

            “No thanks are necessary,” he said back. “It’s what we do, right?”

            “Right,” she agreed with a smile.

            The two looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, not saying anything. Catgirl was the first to break the tense silence.

            “I think we should go back up the others.”

            “Right! Lead the way!”