James Knight: Teenage Superhuman - Book Three

Thirteen

"Earth to Alpha." Bryce tapped his headset as a loud screech poured through the speaker back at the headquarters. I sat alone at the desk, spinning in a rolling chair, watching live body cam footage from Derek, Bryce, and Mark on the screen as they scoped out a room, government agents waiting outside as backup.

"Finally," Mark said, slamming down against a wall, his voice filled with relief.

"Did you find anything on Henry?"

"Nope," Derek said, leaning over a pile of classified documents on a table in an off-white security room. "What is this place?"

"I-I don't know. But it brings back some bad memories," Bryce stammered.

Derek and Mark exchanged puzzled glances. "Bad memories? What do you mean?" Derek asked as he continued to sift through the documents.

Bryce hesitated momentarily before responding, "This place reminds me of that old government facility where my siblings and I were held captive. The layout, the security measures... it's eerily similar."

The mention of the facility and the abuse sent a solemn hush over the room. Their trauma still weighed heavily on them, and memories of that abuse and neglect have haunted Bryce ever since.

"We can't deal with this right now, Bryce," Mark said, trying to refocus their attention. "We need to find any information related to Max and Alexander and get out of here."

Bryce nodded, swallowing the painful memories. "You're right. Let's get back on track."

"HO-LY shit." Mark cursed, drawing our attention to one of the files on the table—a paper labeled Superhuman Prodigy Project for Youth trial number two, a shady organization known as "The Prodigious." The information potentially meant that Max and Alexander had been pawns in a much larger game, which was something none of us saw coming and something we potentially had been playing right into.

"Who the hell are The Prodigious?" Bryce asked.

"I don't know, but something tells me that maybe we should get out of here," Derek replied, flipping a document page.

The boys took a couple of snapshots and pictures of files on tables, and the team retraced their steps, carefully avoiding making a mess before signaling to the police presence to clear out. They emerged from the building and regrouped near a fish market, catching their breath and assessing their injuries.

"We've got what we came for," Derek announced, holding up his cell phone. "Now, let's get back to home and figure out what the fuck we just saw."

Still visibly shaken by the eerie resemblance of the building Bryce, Noah, and their siblings spent their childhood captive in, the past mission, the nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I've had enough of this place." I was shaken, too, more for Bryce and what this meant for him and what it meant for us and my family. Were we in danger?

∆∆∆

Derek entered the livingroom, his super-suit worn and dirty from use. The moment shattered, and I sat with everyone, eagerly waiting for what Derek had to say.

"Hey, good news. We think we found Henry," He said, his eye flicking away from Claire and her bulging stomach.

My ears perked up at Derek's words, and I leaned forward, fully alert. "Where is he?" I asked, my voice sharp.

Derek hesitated, glancing around to ensure no one else was within earshot. "Atwater Hotel. We've got intel suggesting he's being held there."

A surge of mixed emotions washed over me — relief that we might be close to finding Henry, coupled with the dread of what awaited us at Max's hideout.

Sensing the change in atmosphere, Claire sat up straight. Concern etched on her face. "Is it safe? What if it's a trap?"

Derek nodded, his expression serious. "We've taken precautions. The intel seems credible, and we can't afford to let this opportunity slip away."

I stood up, a sudden sense of urgency gripping me. "Let's go, then."

The dynamic shifted. A tense focus on the mission ahead replaced the banter and casual conversations.

"I want to help," I admitted, eager to get out into the field again. Noah and Mark exchanged raised eyebrows.

"You don't even have your powers. Dad and Sam are meeting with the FBI about this as we speak. It's too risky," Derek argued.

"I'm seventeen," I growled back, fists curled tightly around my phone.

"With no powers," He argued back.

"I can do this, Derek. I'm not a little kid, and you're not Dad."

"Dad said no, too," Derek argued back. Anger built up inside, like a fury of fire raging within me. I was ready to pounce into action, but with limited power, I was helpless.

"Derek!" I snapped.

"JAMES!" He snapped back. "I mean it. This isn't your fight."

Suddenly, with a surge of strength, my fist clamped my phone, crushing it nearly to dust as my eyes burst with purple. An awkward silence hung in the air as I dropped the remaining pieces.

"Well, he certainly has powers now," Mark noted, wide eyes glued to the debris on the floor. There was a silent debate. Nobody moved, and blinked, for a moment. Even I froze, stunned, as the familiar feeling of power rushed through my veins again.

Then, Derek growled, "Fine. I'll text Sam and Dad," he said through his teeth. "In the meantime, don't do anything stupid." He huffed, glancing at the shattered pieces of glass and metal before walking off.