Quoted By:
At first, you’d considered taking Max back to your base, or at least Flint’s place, but you feared that that might somehow lead others to discover your location and your intentions for the suit.
So instead, you sent out a few messages to everyone in your group to meet you at a location of your choosing. Everyone except Cindy, of course. She was a growing girl, and she needed her sleep.
You would’ve conveyed this to Flint as well, but you knew that he wasn’t too good at multitasking when he was flying like this. Holding himself and Max up was taking up most of his concentration, so he’d decided to follow you wherever you went.
—-----
In the end, you decided to head to the docks. You knew that there wouldn’t be a lot of people there at this time of night, and there were minimal electronic systems for Max to take advantage of if he got free.
Nevertheless, you pushed such possibilities out your mind for the time being, as your allies had just arrived to inspect your catch.
When she saw Max, Cat let out a slow, sharp whistle.
<span class="mu-b">“Damn. You really did it, huh?”</span> she said, sounding clearly impressed.
<span class="mu-g">“How’d you even manage to knock him out?”</span> Prowler asked, running a claw along the solidified foam.
<span class="mu-r">“Had a little help.”</span> you said with a shrug. <span class="mu-r">“We should really get this stuff off of him before he wakes up, though.”</span>
<span class="mu-g">“Right. It’ll take some time, but I think we’ll be fine if we keep him sedated with gas.”</span> Prowler said. <span class="mu-g">“Let’s find somewhere to lay him down.”</span>
—-----
And so began some of the most stressful hours of your life. All of you were holding your breath, hoping and praying that the living lightbulb wouldn’t wake up in the middle of your examination. You were just waiting for his eyes to shoot open—for him to vault off the table and start hurling lightning bolts all over the place.
Thankfully, that never came to pass. Either you had hit him harder than you’d thought, or Prowler’s gas was more potent than any of you had expected, because the man in question was out cold the entire time, only stirring in his sleep ever so often.
Sam had arrived late to this little gathering, not possessing a grappling hook of his own to quickly traverse the city like the other two. To your great relief, he asked very few questions and got to work helping Prowler almost right away.
At times, their hands were a blur—making practiced and precise motions that could only be described as surgical. And other times, it appeared as if they were moving in slow motion as they carefully traversed the complex wiring scheme that had been built into the suit.
Every now and again, they would consult Cat on the topic of its power supply and microprocessors. But for the most part, the rest of you just sat back quietly and watched the masters work.
(Cont.)
