After wasting half the morning at the bank, they returned to find Cassandane being interrogated by Secret Service agents. That continued for almost an hour before Cassandane made it clear her patience had been exhausted and that she would not hesitate to walk away from the meeting with their president. Then, when they were clear of government agents, Varanelli informed Cassandane that the Canadian government wanted to meet with them and bring some representatives from the United Nations. They had a conference call to make arrangements for Cassandane to fly back to New York for a meeting -- by fly, the Canadians meant sitting on a plane instead of zipping around with the kinetic talent.

Then came lunch, with all the complaints that entailed. Mike tried to disarm the hostility to the PB & J sandwiches, but no one seemed thrilled. Neither was he. Due to their morning chores he had lost out on one-on-one training with Cassandane. That meant a day lost in his preparations to survive whoever Nallit threw at him. He suspected a small army would ambush him. At least, he hoped that would be the path of his enemies. Being poisoned or having his throat slashed in his sleep seemed unsporting.

He gathered up two sandwiches and hesitated while he studied his seating options. The ex-Army table did not look inviting, considering both Smith and Varanelli were upset with him for putting an end to any future shenanigans while on duty. The MMA table had been crashed by Woodrow, who Mike didn't want to spend any further time with that day. Srinivas, Tracy, and Joe the cop were playing some sort of game together using their phones. That just left the table Cassandane sat at by herself using the organziation laptop for research of some sort and the table with Sam and Jess. Probably best to just sit down by himself.

"Hey, Mike!"

He looked over at Jess. "Hey, Jess, how's the gourmet food?"

"Get over here. I have questions."

As Mike sank down into a chair, he got the distinct impression that Sam did not want him there. Too late. Jess had slid her chair closer. "So what is the real story behind New York?"

"It's a big ole' city."

"Come on, Ski! Do you mind if I call you Ski?"

Mike shrugged. "Mike, Ski, Dombroski, I respond to any of those. As far as New York was concerned . . . it was a shit show. An absolute shit show. Almost died at the airport. Almost didn't catch the building in time. Almost died facing off with Nallit. Almost died of embarrassment on national television."

"What? I thought your interview was great. 'Catching a building is harder than it looks.' I'll bet they put it on t-shirts."

"Bunch of kids would probably wear it ironically, whatever that means," Mike said.

Jess spread her hands wide. "Picture this. Empire State Building screenprinted in profile over a flying stick figure poised to catch it. Then the quote underneath that. It would sell. Especially if we made it official EDA swag."

"Official swag? That's not a bad idea, actually. Minus the me quotes, of course."

"EDA swag. Who is our official merchandise person? Can it be me?"

Mike's eyes darted between the intense Jess and the apathetic Sam. "Hey, Centurion Sam, is something bothering you?"

Sam didn't respond, but Jess seemed to notice her friend's mood for the first time. "Oh no. We went over twelve hours without a Star Wars allusion, didn't we? Dead inside, have you become?"

"Not in the mood," Sam muttered.

"The bank stuff ruined my morning, too," Mike said. "If you thought a bank would give special treatment to superheroes with a very tiny amount of money, you would be wrong. It's all about the dollar signs with those people."

"The bank was fine. It's everything else," Sam said. Her eyes drifted to the side as she said that, causing both Mike and Jess to follow her gaze to the ex-army table.

Mike didn't see the significance of the movement, but Jess obviously did. Her eyes narrowed. "Mike? Is your friend Kendra dating anyone?"

"Let's not do this," Sam said, coming to life.

A chair scraped as Cassandane joined their table. "What are you objecting to?"

"Nothing," Sam said.

Jess gestured to Varanelli. "Is she dating anyone?"

"Varanelli and Smith are a thing."

Jess raised her brows. "Greg Smith?"

"I know, right? He's the guy everyone suspects uses mascara."

Cassandane raised a hand to cover a smile while Jess chuckled. Sam rolled her eyes. "Sounds you like you might be jealous."

"Of Smith? More like confused. If you put a wig on him, he would be prettier than half the girlfriends I ever had."

"That doesn't surprise me," Sam said.

"I'm going to New York for a few days," Cassandane interrupted. "Mike will be in overall command. Do not allow the training to slow down in my absence. Sam will push basic competencies and Mike will emphasize combat applications. There should be minimal risk of reprisals this soon, but stay on guard."

Sam blinked. "Reprisals?"

"Nallit put a price on my head," Mike said. "It sounds like a bad thing until you realize the alternative was being tortured to death."

"Are assassins coming for all of us or just you two?"

Cassandane shook her head. "Just Mike. He killed Nallit. Temporarily."

"I make new friends everywhere I go." Mike winked at Sam.

"It's not funny, Mike. You're probably going to die."

"Nice to see you concerned for my welfare, Sam."

"Very concerned. I would rather not be put in charge of combat operations." Sam scowled at Cassandane. "Do you have to leave?"

"A coalition of nations has expressed a willingness to recognize us as an intergovernmental organization in exchange for hosting students from member nations at a ratio determined by their Security Council. An agreement will ensure the funding and the legitimacy of the Earth Defense Army. We cannot afford to pass up this opportunity."