Sam was really unclear on what was going on. Up to now, things had gone according to plan, butâŚ
Super-powers kicked in? Yeah, thatâd gone well. Okay, being the Empress Of All Canines wasnât, like, the best superpower, but sheâd always liked dogs. Being able to talk to them and get them to do things was pretty neat.
Create superhero identity? Check. Sheâd made a costume, collected up some tough dogs to be her team, and set out to Do Some Good.
Get the attention of the big superheroes? That had⌠well, it had started well. Sheâd stopped a few robberies and stuff, and then sheâd seen Guarde fighting some bad guys and weighed in andâŚ
⌠and two of her dogs had been killed. And it had hurt, and theyâd called for her to save them, and she hadnât been able to. It had all suddenly been so real, and sheâd started to cry.
And once it was over, Guarde had dragged her halfway across the city to this shabby old building, and started banging on a door labeled âNO ADMITTANCEâ.
Guarde sighed and pressed a cracked button on an old intercom, which looked like it should have stopped working at least twenty years ago. âCome on, I know thereâs someone in there,â she said crossly. âGet your asses out here.â
Above their heads, a security camera panned down to examine them.
After another minute, the door opened, and a walking stereotype stood there, glaring. She was, like, THE grouchy old office lady, from the old-lady grey curls to the sagging cardigan to the glasses on a chain to the sour expression with a cigarette hanging out of it. Even her voice, when she spoke, sounded exactly like Sam would have guessed it would, hoarse and raspy. âCanât you read the sign? No admittance. Especially not for your kind.â She sneered, and took a drag on the cigarette. âGet lost.â
Guarde pushed Sam forward. âKid needs the Agency.â