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It was a S.H.I.E.L.D. notification. Technically they didn’t send Nadia notifications, but she still got the notifications. Because she had cloned Janet’s S.H.I.E.L.D. phone and mirrored the notifications she got from the agency.
She just liked to be informed about what was going on. She didn’t always jump into action the second she saw something come in from S.H.I.E.L.D. After all, sometimes they had nothing to do with her. Sometimes they were about things happening in Wakanda or Sokovia or on the Helicarrier or Spider-Man had gotten into trouble again and could Tony Stark please come bail him out (the number of tangled webs he seemed to weave, it was unbelievable).
This time, though. This time the alert wasn’t far. Or, at least, “not far” if you could fly—Midtown, right by Madison Square Park. It would frankly be irresponsible of Nadia not to go check it out. Especially since she was already so far from Cresskill and really it would only be a short detour on her way home.
So…she had to go.
Plus, she’d just checked off another item on Maria’s list. She was on a roll!
Nadia ran into the HoffTech bathrooms, already pulling her Wasp charm off her phone.
Please don’t be another death ray.
Nadia started to think that using “better or worse than a death ray” as a way to judge the overall success of her day was not the best idea. It set a disappointingly low bar for a “good day.”
Then again, the way things had been going in Nadia’s life lately, “better than a death ray” really did seem like an impossible threshold.
Take today. This morning? Extremely good. Playing in the rain and watching the stars (two whole items off Maria’s list!), complete. Time with Taina, always lovely (even when she was being obtuse about Nadia’s priorities). Opening VERA, essential. Meeting Margaret, life highlight.
But now?
Now Nadia was inside some guy’s button-down—a place she could safely say she never wanted to be again—racing through his sparse chest hair and trying to ignore the cloying scent of his deodorant. Nadia was certain it was probably named something like “Wolfclaw” or “Bearcano.”
Worse than a death ray?
Not quite. But approaching.
Nadia had avoided rush hour transit by shrinking and flying straight from HoffTech to Midtown, arriving just as the financial sector was starting to empty out for the day. The streets were filled with business boys all dressed the same—button-down, slacks, dress shoes, maybe a down sleeveless vest to top the look off. It made Nadia feel like she was in a horror movie. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but she found them all kind of disturbing.
Like if the zombies in Army of Darkness (which Ying loved and made all the G.I.R.L.s watch last summer) were all rich boys who only talked about sailing, or women like they were objects, or what it was like to all be named Brian or Ryan. Disturbing.
But there was something more disturbing than usual going on when Nadia pulled up outside Crédit France, the financial services HQ where the S.H.I.E.L.D. notification had sent her. She could immediately tell that there was a problem; police cars lit up the streets around the building, blockading it from the usual end-of-day traffic.
The cops were assisting building security, walking finance guys out in droves with their hands behind their backs. More than fifty of the gingham-shirted men knelt on the sidewalk outside their office, hands secured behind their backs, and more were still exiting the building, escorted by law enforcement.
This looked like a big problem; Nadia didn’t want to dive in without letting someone know first. She put her hand to her ear and put out the call.
“G.I.R.L.s, assistance required at Crédit France in Midtown, anyone available?”
Taina’s voice responded almost immediately. “Yeah—at the Labs, so I can’t make it to you, but I can help from here. Let me see what people are saying online.”
“Thanks, Tai—”
“I’ll try.” Priya’s voice cut Nadia off, surprising her. “I’m at the store but my uncle’s here—heading your way.”
Emotion welled in Nadia’s chest. She might not have seen much of her friends in the last few weeks, but they were still there when she needed them. When she called, they showed up.
“Great! Ying? Shay?”
Nadia waited. There was no response. They must not have their phones on. Or something.
Knowing at least some help was on its way, Nadia went quiet and zoomed down, landing on a cop’s shoulder. She dropped to her knees; long-distance flying took it out of her after a while. It took a lot of muscle to keep her stable and stay aloft, even with her biosynthetic wings. She was working on her core strength, but it didn’t happen overnight, you know.
“Still a
t it?” A voice crackled over the cop’s radio. Nadia was jostled slightly as he grabbed for it to respond.
“Yup,” the cop answered gruffly. “Probably a hundred of these guys, all goin’ away. White-collar, but still.”
