It was so unexpected; she held her hand out. There were more cheers and applause.
“It’s just amazing,” he continued. “You’ve saved so many people. People talk about superheroes and you think about fighting monsters and supervillains and stuff. You don’t think about things like this.”
“I’m sorry,” interrupted St. George. “I didn’t catch your name.”
The young man’s smile faltered and in that instant the hero realized the man in the suit was probably older than he was. “Sorry,” he said. “Caught up in the moment. This is just…It’s so rare we find survivors, let alone such a huge group with, well, people like you.” He straightened his tie. “I’m John Smith. Department of Homeland Security, seconded to DARPA and working with Project Krypton as…well…” He shrugged. “These days I just try to help out wherever I can, like most people.”
He took a few steps back until he stood near the soldiers. “Good job, Captain Freedom,” he said. “You and your people did great considering the opposition. I’ll make sure the colonel and Dr. Sorensen know.”
The huge officer gave a sharp dip of his head. “Thank you, sir.”
“St. George, Stealth,” said Smith, turning back to the heroes, “I believe you’ve already met our super-forces commander.”
“Captain Freedom,” said St. George with a smile. He rubbed his jaw and held out his hand. “So that’s the best name they could come up with, huh?”
“Captain John Carter Freedom, sir,” he said. He took the hand, gripped it hard, and gave a single shake.
“Ahhh. Sorry.”
The crowd, not hearing any of it, applauded again.
Smith broke up the awkward moment with more babbling. It was like nervous hero worship. “You can imagine our surprise,” he said to St. George, “when our sentries looked west on the Fourth of July and saw fireworks out over Los Angeles. Two miles over, as far as we could tell.”
“Yeah, I bet that was a bit of a shock.”
“Of course, we sent out a Predator to investigate,” he continued. “It was a little more disturbing when it stopped sending back telemetry and started pounding out ‘Radio Nowhere’ by Bruce Springsteen.”
Barry cleared his throat. “Told you it’d be memorable,” he said to St. George.
“That was you?” said Smith. “You’re Zzzap, yes?”
“Yes.”
The suit pumped Barry’s hand three or four times. “This is just such a great day. People are going to be going crazy back at Yuma when we report in. I mean, we had some wild hopes of what we might find out here in Los Angeles but…”
Smith stopped talking. Even the crowd sensed it and grew quiet. He stared at Danielle, his mouth open.
After a moment she registered the silence and raised her head to see what was going on. She glanced around, shrunk when she saw everyone staring, and finally registered the man in front of her. She blinked and opened her eyes wide.
“John?”
He lunged past the wheelchair and hugged her. “We thought you were dead,” he said. “Everyone thought you died years ago.”
She pulled away and stared at him with a look that was half amazement, half anger.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “After all that’s happened, you’re not going to say you’re glad to see me?”
Danielle smiled and bearhugged him back. “I am glad to see you,” she said.
Barry inched his chair out of the way. “Soooooo,” he said, “you two know each other?”
She released the man in the suit. “We…kind of dated,” she said with a smile.
This time Smith pulled back to look at her but also didn’t let go. “Dated? We were living together for six months.”
She pulled him back. The embrace lasted for another few moments and then his manic energy took over again. “This is…This is unbelievable,” he said. “We got the news your plane was diverting to Van Nuys and then no one ever heard anything from your team again. Not to sound morbid but, well, we all assumed you were dead and the battlesuit was a rusting statue somewhere.”
“The suit’s fine,” she said. She turned her head and pointed over at the scenery mill she’d converted to her workshop. “It’s right over there. I’d be wearing it right now but…” She shrugged. “You remember what it was like putting it on.”
“The suit’s here?” He blinked. “And it still works?”
“I built it to last.” She looked at the others. “John was my first liaison with the DOD. We met while I was building Cerberus.”
“I think most of us figured that out,” said St. George.
“We need to get you back to Yuma,” said Smith. He looked around. “All of you are welcome, of course. Captain, can we arrange to get some kind of cargo transport out here?”
Freedom glanced at Sergeant Monroe. The man took a look around the Plaza lot and nodded. “Yes, sir,” the captain said.
“One moment,” said Stealth.
Her voice cut across the festive mood. They all paused. The cloaked woman had moved, taking a position between Smith and the workshop.
“You are planning to take the Cerberus suit?”
Smith shifted his gaze from Danielle to Stealth. “Well, I just figured Dan…Doctor Morris would want to come back with us,” he said. “We’ve got better facilities, machine shops, and…well…” He looked at the redhead again. “You know.”
“I do not,” said Stealth. “Cerberus is an essential part of both our community and our defensive measures.”
Danielle’s brow furrowed. “Are you telling me I can’t leave?”
“I am saying—”
“Okay, let’s all stop for a second,” said St. George. He could feel the icy glare Stealth gave him through her mask. “Big day, a lot to take in, everyone’s a little over-stimulated. Not to mention,” he tilted his head at the crowd, “there’s a lot of people here who’ve been waiting for a day like this for some time now.”
“I agree,” said Smith. “We can talk about all this later. Captain Freedom, would your people like to say hello to the crowd?”
“Yes, sir,” said the huge officer. He turned to the soldiers. “Unbreakables,” he snapped, “dismissed.”
Their salutes shook the air. Then they moved to the crowd, shaking hands and hugging strangers. Some even posed for photos. St. George saw Billie Carter exchange salutes with one and the two began to speak at length about something.
Danielle dropped her voice. “What the hell are you talking about?” She looked at Smith. “Both of you, for that matter.”
“We should discuss this matter in private,” said Stealth. “It is not good for the civilians to see us argue amongst ourselves.”
“We’re not arguing,” said St. George. “We’re just talking.”
“I’m ready to argue,” said Danielle.
“Look,” said Smith, “I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn. I just got excited. This is like winning the lottery three times on the same day.”
“You were so excited to find us here,” said Stealth, “yet your first response was an assault.”
“Standard operating procedure, ma’am,” said Freedom. He loomed behind Smith and made the suited man look even less like an adult. “In an unknown situation, when you hear gunfire, your first duty is to protect your people and take control of the situation. I’m sure you can understand.”
“So you attacked us,” said St. George.
“Because you resisted our attempt to control the situation.”
“We resisted because you attacked us. Welcome to the real—”
“This country is under martial law,” said Freedom. “My authority here is absolute unless otherwise ordered by Colonel Shelly or the President himself.”
There was a moment of silence. His words reached some of the closer edges of the crowd and nervous whispers began to work their way through the people gathered to see the soldiers.
“Martial law?” said Danielle. She raised an eyebrow.