Flyover City! A Novel (with Superheroes)

27. A Very Special Guest...

 Having woken up at the crack of my ass, I watched the sun come up, revealing Capitol Hill streets covered in a crisp-ity, crunch-ity layer of ice. Too cold to bike, so I caught a ride in to work with Gwen. She starts her shift about an hour after me, so we stopped off for coffee to split the difference in time. No big deal; everybody comes in late when the weather's bad.

Usually, snow days are sort of mellow - especially if its a Friday. Lots of jeans, sweatshirts, and the managers will bring in a few dozen donuts for those of us who live downtown, and can make it into work. But I could tell something was different: tense, more "buttoned up" than usual. Once we walked in the door, I didn't see Gwen all morning. Anyone higher up the food chain than us phone jockeys was being shuffled back and forth through a continuous series of meetings.

At about 9:30, I took my first unofficial break of the day. I placed my caller on hold to check on the status of their "Trouble Ticket", and snuck into the bathroom to call Kyle on my cell. No answer, just the default voice mail greeting. I didn't bother to leave a message.

I was killing a few more seconds, humping up against a urinal when Tim rushed in with a gym bag and started tugging off his shirt. No greeting, not even his usual "T.G.I.(mf'n)F.!" He was white as a sheet.

"Hey, Tim," I said, zipping up, "everything okay?"

He was stuffing a wrinkled dress shirt into a pair of jeans that still showed a of hint acid wash. I'm sure they must have fit at some point.

"All hands on deck, man. Wigs are here today."

Wigs?

"Big ones." he clarified, pushing neck fat out of his collar with a tie. "I'd get on the phones if I were you..."

I followed him out and headed back to my cube. I put a note on Mr. Davidson's file that his call dropped, and got back on the phone. I tried Kyle a few more times while I was in after-call.

I spent lunch on the net, catching up on the buzz about Dr. Macguffin. Lots of speculation on the powerrazi sites, but no official word of an investigation from the Agency; just a few quotes from random heroes who've worked with him over the years.

In the afternoon, for my second unscheduled break, I snuck into the stairwell between four and the corporate offices on five, and called Kyle, again: shitty reception, but great for privacy, because, hey, as long as the building keeps from going up in a ball of flames, who's gonna use the stairs?

"Hello?" a woman's voice. I check to make sure I hit the right number, before hearing a male on the other end.

"Gimme that... yeah, what's up?"

"Hey, Kyle? Dude, this is Joel," I'm not sure, but I could've sworn I heard two distinct female laughs, "I guess I don't have to ask howyou're doing..."

"Hey, man... long time no see. What's goin' on?"

I had this totally crazy dream last night, and You Were In It. Yeah. "Uh, nothing much. I just... I don't know, haven't talked in a while, and wanted to get together with you."

"Yeah, I've been out and about. What's your excu..." Stupid cement walls, "hey, this call may drop... you wanna meet up tonight?"

"Ah, I don't know, I was up pretty late last... me and Spliff are... drinks tomor... want in?"

From up the steps, behind me, I heard a door open. Great.

"Uh, yeah, I guess that'll work. Look, I'll call you tomorrow." I disconnected the call, standing to let the person behind me pass, prepared to avoid any eye contact - but by the time I turned, we were face-to-face.