September 8th, 2017

5.33 pm, Hotel Key West, Florida

“It’s all clear, Chief.” Spectrum says as he and Fire suddenly turn visible again.

Spectrum and Fire are standing in the middle of a simply decorated and well-lit hotel room even with the curtains drawn. Both men are wearing dark suits and sunglasses. The bedroom’s main occupant is Director Nick Jones, who is staring at his phone while sitting on the room’s only bed.

“Right on time, Old Fire.” Director Jones says as he looks up, “Still not used to your magic acts.”

“Better catch up quick, Old Snake.” Fire says as he extends his right arm to Director Jones.

“Your team has certainly kept me busy these few days.” Director Jones says, accepting the help.

“Hey, I was ready to retire.” Fire says as he pulls up Director Jones, “But we are still needed.”

“How did you get in? The door and windows are locked.” Director Jones asks, now standing.

“Phased through.” Spectrum answers.

“Like a ghost?” Director Jones asks, pivoting his head to look at Spectrum.

“Yes but don’t tell Marvel.” Spectrum says.

“Anyways,” Director Jones says facing Fire, “New IDs are in the briefcase.”

The group walks to the nearby table which has a dark briefcase. Director Jones opens the lid, revealing 6 neat columns and 2 rows of passports and driver’s licenses for 6 people. The District of Columbia driver’s licenses show the 6 new faces of Team Six.

“Azeem Smith?” Spectrum asks as he picks his, then says, “Wait, they are all Smith.”

The names on the IDs are Aidan Smith for Fire, Kuroi Smith for Shade, Azeem Smith for Spectrum, Khloe Smith for Wave, Chieloka Smith for Quake, and Haneul Smith for Aviator.

“Still a common enough name.” Director Jones says.

“Smith…” Fire says as he picks up his ID.

“Not your fault.” Director Jones says, reading Fire’s thought process.

“No, but I was the target.” Fire says.

“Even with your new powers, you aren’t gods.” Director Jones says.

“Spectrum.” Fire says as he takes the IDs with his own new face, “Get these to everyone.”

“Will do, Chief.” Spectrum says as he closes the briefcase, “I will head to homebase after.”

“Oh yeah, Beggingson and Wong should be on their way there.” Director Jones says.

“They left around 12.30, so they should be there within an hour.” Spectrum says, “I am off.”

With a blink, Spectrum disappears with the briefcase leaving Director Jones and Fire alone.

“Damn! Can y’all fly yet?” Director Jones asks.

“We haven’t tried.” Fire says.

“Oh, there are reports from amateur astronomers who reported bright lights around the area and time of our air heist.” Director Jones says.

“Ghost tracks.” Fire notes.

“Better than nothing.” Director Jones says then asks, “Drinks on me?”

“I need a walk.” Fire says as he turns to walk to the door.

“The weight of the world doesn’t always have to be on your shoulders.” Director Jones says.

“Alena Smith would still be alive if I wasn’t here.” Fire says, “Tell me otherwise.”

Director Jones stands contemplatively silent as he watches Fire’s solitary back figure.

“She’s yet another dead brave child.” Fire says as he unlocks the door, “That’s not going home.”

“And I…” Fire says as he turns to look at Director Jones, “Am still here.”

Fire opens the door then steps out onto the hallway carpet. He closes the door behind him, leaving the concerned gaze of his longest friend. Fire walks to the nearby stairwell exit.

“One death is a tragedy…” Director Jones says while looking at the closed door.

Spectrum arrives in the secret underground portion of the facility known as the Dojo. After authenticating his identity, the surround lights come on revealing a large yet cosy space. The flooring is mostly of a grey concrete-like design but a central space looks wooden. Monitors, currently blank, fully cover the wall that is opposite the only exit, a spiral staircase to a secret entrance in the house above. A few large flower pots sit on the four corners of the Dojo.

Spectrum makes his way to the 6 large lockers, containing personal items of each teammate of Team Six. His hand phases right through the metal casing, reaching into the locker and pulling contents out then putting them into the large open gym bag hanging across his chest in fluid motions. Luckily, everyone kept their most important personal items on the top shelf in each locker. He repeats this action for each locker, stuffing all the personal items he gets his hand on while his mind wanders as he stares up.

Spectrum’s focus is on the house above, and away from the 5 mysterious necklace boxes he pulls into the gym bag. He is peering through the concrete roof as if waiting on something. As if on cue, movement. The lights above come on as 6 people fill the living room. Dr. Kabeer Wong, General Beggingson, Alfred, Ben, Charlotte, and Principal Janet Williams. The soundproofing means Spectrum can only watch but not hear what is about to unfold. No matter how much his heart will break at the coming scene, he must only watch on.

Wordlessly, it all plays out. General Beggingson, in civilian clothing, places a wooden briefcase on the centre table. He opens it and retrieves 6 neatly triangular-folded American flags. Dr. Wong speaks as General Beggingson arranges the flags on the table. Disbelief and looming sadness paint the faces of Principal Willams, Alfred, Ben, and Charlotte. Tears slowly form on Charlotte’s eyes then stream down her cheeks.

Alfred shouts, then dashes to the house door and outside. Dr. Wong follows in stride. Charlotte gets hugged by Principal Williams, both faces in disarray. Ben’s face is stuck in uncomprehending shock. General Beggingson looks down at the 6 flags.

Spectrum sighs, then casts his gaze towards Alfred who has run quite a distance. Spectrum could only imagine Alfred’s screams into the evening sky. Fortunately, Dr. Wong is on his trail albeit much slower.

“Sorry.” Spectrum murmurs as he refocuses his attention to his immediate surroundings. After a quick scan around, Spectrum turns off the lights and disappears into darkness. His heart throbs in pain for what he leaves behind. A new reality unfolds, one where he will be living away from his favorite children and their home together for an unknowable amount of time.