I went on patrol last night in my spare costume. Have I gained weight? This thing is really tight on me, particularly in the groinal area. Plus, the shoulder cape/topcoat is an unmanly purple color, instead of the masculine deep blue color I have now.
I'm using the spare because my primary suit of body armor is getting upgraded by My Guy -- I'm hoping to get it back at the end of the week. Then - I'm airborne. Glider wings, baby.
Anyway, I have to go on patrol, I'm getting rusty. My shoulder is no longer an epicenter of molten pain and I feel like I have full range of motion. I healed pretty quickly after I fucked my shoulder up in that fight with the Jet Pack Mafia goon (see post Why jet packs should be illegal, 11/26/04) I have clean living and my chiropractor Dr. Bobby to thank for that. Well, that and a superhuman physiology, that helps.
To satisfy my curiousity I bounce over to Old Town and check out the Interbionics building. Sure enough, it looks ready to go. They renovated the original brick building and it's now a dramatically lit retro-modern fusion of old brick and polished steel. The building is going to be Interbionics new west coast office, and Mayor McChesney hopes that it will serve as the foundation for a new low tax bio-tech district among the cobblestones of Old Town. I'm not too psyched about it because Interbionics are all a bunch of fucking supervillains. Mark my words.
I pick up reports of a fire on the South End, so I bounce over and check it out.
A warehouse burns, vomiting black smoke into the night sky. The ECFD are hosing down the adjacent buildings, trying to keep the fire from spreading. Looks like they're just going to let the warehouse burn.
I hang back a few blocks and scan the scene using the binocular setting on my goggles. No point in getting involved. I'm guessing there's nobody inside the warehouse, and I kind of make it a rule not to fuck with fire scenes unless absolutely necessary. The firefighters know what they're doing, and the last thing they need is some superpowered dude knocking around inside a burning building and messing up their game plan. I'd feel like shit if I collapsed a roof on somebody or something, so I just let them do their thing.
As I'm standing on a rooftop checking the fire out, I notice a figure on top of a warehouse a few blocks away. At first I think it's just some kid or homeless guy who climbed up there to watch the fire, but then I zoom in on the figure with my goggles.
It's a cop. A SWAT guy, sitting cross legged on the roof, chewing gum. His black ECPD baseball cap is on backwards and it looks like he's got a video camera and a sniper rifle. He's clearly there on purpose - he's sitting on a mat and he's got smears of black greasepaint under his eyes to fight the glare. The guy looks around, yawns, then turns his attention back to the fire.
What the hell is this guy doing here?
The SWAT guy is saying something into his headset. He's not alone. I scan the nearby rooftops. Nothing. I switch to infrared, but it's all fucked up by the ambient heat from the fire.
What if this cat is waiting for me? Are the cops staking out emergency scenes hoping I'll make an appearance?
I have a bad feeling about this.