“You got fire powers now too, Midnight?”

  Grace looked up at the sound of barely controlled jealousy in Jesse’s voice. Her inspection of the holes in her new uniform would have to wait, despite the bizarre novelty of knowing she’d been shot without being harmed beyond damage to her clothing.

  “Nah. Diesel burns a treat, and it’s a bitch to put out.” Drew shrugged into the gang member’s leather jacket, windmilling her arms for a second before continuing. “We have a bigger problem though, folks.”

  “What’s that?” Widget looked up from where she’d finished putting restraints on the last of the stunned gang members.

  “These guys. Their weapons. They’re from the Armory.”

  “So?”

  “Remember what JJ said about when the militia runs into the gang members?”

  “Oh, hell.”

  Grace walked over to her friend, touched her lightly on the elbow for attention. “Pardon, but I do not understand.”

  “Simple enough. We’re not just facing the militia. These gangs are in on it.”

  ***

  Walker drifted through the sky; wings stretched out to catch the updrafts coming from the burning city below. An old pair of binoculars dangled from one wrist as he scanned for new outbreaks of fire.

  “Where are you, Walker?” By now he didn’t even think about how he could hear the signal from Jack’s radio; he just replied.

  “Hovering over Central Park, Jack. If I get too close to one of the buildings, they pick me out and start shooting.”

  “Are you hit?”

  “Not yet, but with the weight of fire it’s just a matter of time if I’m in close to the buildings.”

  “What about SAMs from the park?”

  “I didn’t say how far above the park.” A sudden burst of sparks lit up the night, and he swung the binoculars up to his eyes.

  “I’ve got a contact about four blocks ahead of your current position. Just so you know, there’s an arc to the West of you that’s slowly gone dark. Too dark to tell if it’s the gangs putting everyone else down, or the National Guard moving in.”

  “Too early for the Guard. I’ll let Midnight know which way we’re going. Stay on watch, stay safe.”

  “Understood. Walker out.”

  With that Walker returned to his vigil in the sky.

  ***

  Drew… no, Midnight stalked through the streets of New York City like an avenging goddess. The Blue Bloods followed her, subduing gang members who escaped her wrath and applying zip ties to their wrists. Widget watched it all through Mega Moppet’s eyes, observing yet unable to act.

  Not being able to act wasn’t the same as not being able to influence events, and having nothing to do but observe left her plenty of time to do just that.

  Ambush ahead; a few militia members on the third-floor ledges covering the gang members hidden in those wrecked cars.

  “Midnight! Snipers on the ledges, and a gang in those cars!”

  Inside the privacy of her own head, Widget winced. The ambush hadn’t seen them yet, but they clearly heard Mega Moppet’s yell. One of the snipers began working himself around so he could face the new threat, but halfway through his turn a hail of tranquilizer darts hammered home. Most of them hit body armor, but at least one penetrated. He fell, crashing through a sapling before he landed with a thump on the hard concrete below.

  We only have a limited number of darts.

  “Stop spraying, Frostfire! One shot each!” The Moppet followed her own advice, taking the other sniper out with a single shot to the buttocks. He slumped, his rifle pointing at the sky.

  Pain blossomed in her chest, and her viewpoint slewed toward the sky. A tunnel of grey haze obscured the world, a brilliant blue light in its center. One hand shoved at the pavement, and a high-pitched cry of rage and pain left her throat.

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  Get up! Move! You’re a stationary target!

  Before she finished the thought, her viewpoint spun as the Moppet whipped herself into a spinning leap to her feet, followed by a tumble to her right, the dart gun cradled to her body to avoid damaging it.

  “More snipers!”

  Geometry and physics danced through Widget’s mind, a conclusion coming by the time her body came to rest behind a parked car.

  They’re on the far side of the street, as well. They thought we’d be coming down the cross-street.

  “Far side of the street!”

  Bullets flew. One hit Midnight square in the forehead, flipping her backward. She bounced off her hands and landed on her feet.

  “Dammit, that hurt!” The goddess wiped one hand across her forehead; it came away smeared with blue blood and grey lead. The Moppet gaped, stunned at the sight.

  “Midnight! You’re… Bleeding!”

  The goddess herself whipsawed between shock and rage. Another bullet slammed into her gut, staggering her. Rage won out as glowing blue trickled down her exposed stomach.

  “Sonofabitch!” Midnight grabbed at the bumper of one of the pile of cars the gang had used for cover and pulled. The stack toppled into the nearest building, the bumper and shreds of the car’s frame and body coming loose in her hands. She spun, wrenching the ungainly hunk of metal around, releasing it to fly in a low arc to slam into the sniper ledge on the far side of the street.

  “Shit! It’s the fucking bots again!” A moment after the scream rang out from the far side of the alley; the gang members shifted most of their fire to the street.

  Sparks flew as bullets hit metal, and a robotic voice echoed through the urban valley. “Drop your weapons and lie face down on the ground.”

  Half of the gang members fired faster, unleashing a waterfall of lead on the street. The other half slammed their fists into their thighs, screaming as they convulsed. Widget stared at the pack strapped to the leg of the thug nearest her. Understanding came when a thin trickle of glowing blue leaked out from beneath the pack.

  They’re injecting themselves with haematochromic blood.

  “Uh, what?”

  Blue blood. They’re injecting blue blood into themselves!

  “They’re injecting blue blood!”

  Each of the men with a pack blurred into motion; most charged into the street, but three turned toward the Blue Blood team. One swept past Widget, taking her legs out from under her in passing before circling Jack, landing punch after punch. Another darted past Frostfire, shoving her aside to get to Flex.

  The gang member fighting Midnight spun around her, swings coming in too fast to see, but none of them landed. She leaned just in time with each one, until finally her hand just happened to be in the right place to snag her opponent’s wrist. When he tried to pull back, instead he forced himself into Midnight’s incoming forehead. He bounced away, landing limp on the ground.

  Flex took a flurry of hits before ballooning out into a wide sheet, then engulfing the bad guy. When she constricted all the way around him, all motion ceased except for a slight quivering.

  Jack tried his best to repeat Midnight’s maneuver, but his partner moved too fast. Before Widget could react, glowing blue-green leaked from his nose and a cut on his lip. The Moppet unleashed a torrent of darts, but the hopped-up gangbanger dodged all of them, even taking the time to flip her off as he did. Jack staggered, dropping to one knee.

  Before the guy could finish him, a form materialized beside the dueling pair. A young man with dark hair, vaguely Asian features, and a white uniform mostly hidden by gleaming white and silver armor dropped something with a blinking red light, then disappeared again. For once the Moppet’s reactions, honed by far too many action shows, matched up perfectly with Widget’s.

  “Grenade!” She ducked and covered even as she screamed the word.

  Jack collapsed and rolled. The explosion lifted him and threw him into a car, leaving a Jack-sized dent in the quarter panel. The gang member either hadn’t heard the warning or hadn’t believed it, and he’d been blown almost straight upward. Before he landed, the young man returned and fired a heavy, thick barreled gun at the falling target. A thick layer of goop covered the gang member; he bounced slightly when he hit the ground, then lay still.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  The newcomer flinched at Midnight’s shout, disappearing and reappearing behind her. Before she could react, he slipped his arms around hers, pulling her into a Nelson hold. She pulled away, and the distinctive whine of electric servos filled the air as the young man held her in place. She swung one leg up until it slammed directly into his face. She hooked that knee around the back of his neck, used that as leverage to swing her other leg up and hit him again.

  At that point Widget finally got a good look at the young man’s armor. A small badge on the left breast portrayed a simple turreted tower. It took only a moment to make the connection.

  Tell Midnight to stand down! He’s a friendly!

  “Midnight! Stop! Don’t hurt him!”

  Midnight froze with her legs locked around the newcomer’s neck. “Gimme one good reason?”

  The young man flickered, as if trying to get away the way he had before, but Midnight lifted one hand, and he went still.

  He’s a member of Gerard’s Chessmen.

  “He’s one of the Chessmen.”

  “That’s right. I’m Rook. Identify yourself.”

  Midnight stared at him. “Really?”

  He blushed. “I’m being recorded.” He tapped a glassy spot on one of his shoulders. “If you would, for the record?”

  “Midnight. Blue Bloods. Why are the Chessmen in the city?”

  “The mayor contacted Mr. Gerard. Hired him to come in and… oh, no you don’t!” Rook tapped at his left forearm, shouting “Pawns! Contain confirmed hostiles!”

  Before anyone could react, a wave of skinny humanoid robots swarmed into the area. Each one sprinted to one of the downed gang members, falling apart as it reached them. One by one, they reformed around their downed foes.

  “The hell? You’re armoring them?”

  “It’s powered armor. Unless I unlock it, they’re stuck in place. Heck, I can even line them up and have them march back to our holding area, once they get the idea that wrestling with the Pawns is futile.”

  “Neat trick,” muttered Midnight.

  “Powered armor? That’s so cool.”

  Widget saw the thought forming in the Moppet’s head. Struggling against it only thickened the curtain of grey separating her from the world. As the words left her lips, she cringed inside, hoping no one would be hurt too badly in the ensuing fracas.

  “I wish I had cool powered armor.”