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“Do you really think this is a good idea?” I snapped, punctuating the words with my best glare, one I learnt from him I might add.
Dad frowned, looking over my shoulder to the back of the large room. We were leaning against a wall of the warehouse, the place we’d used for the heist that had brought us all together.
I’d pulled him by his sleeve to the corner of the room, away from the planning to voice my concerns; not that he was listening, his gaze flicking back to Vic who was, from the raised volume, trying to control the possible destruction that could be caused by an argument.
“Vic wouldn’t do anything stupid”
Famous last words if I ever heard them.
Anything to do with Victor was a universally bad idea. He’d been making a large amount of noise through the usual channels about the fact he needed some muscle, but kept turning everyone down cause he wanted someone he trusted.
Dad, who could never turn down a good heist anyway, was even more susceptible due to his connection to him; took the job, unable to turn Victor down regardless of possible consequences. He never thought that far ahead.
Luckily, he had me to check it out and it looked like a steaming pile of shit with at least an 80% chance of being arrested and even worse, no fire.
The ridiculous, but audacious plan was sketched out on a whiteboard that was currently surrounded by Victor’s crew of criminals.
I sighed audibly and let Dad go back into the fray, whist I followed a few paces behind.
How could he get so hung up on one person.
Wouldn’t catch me doing that.
“I swear to you that this will work” The redhead with the southern drawl insisted. Sully and Pike rolled their eyes in exasperation, suddenly screwing them shut when a bright light shone through the window.
The door flung open and through it stepped the woman, who three years ago had said she was from social services. She was dressed all in white and the light behind her gave her a an almost angel like appearance.
“Gideon, lights out” She ordered.
The light went out, leaving the only the dark clouds that could be classed as daylight and spots floating in front of my eyes.
She sure as shit was not from social services.
Behind her emerged a man head to toe in a metal suit, a man who was all silver, two dark haired women and a guy in yellow lycra, I stared, trying to figure out how he could pull the outfit off so well, that I nearly missed something.
Out the corner of my eye, I watched Dad pale as all the colour slowly drained from his face.
What could make Dad do that?
My hands flared in his defence as his face contorted into a mixture of shock, confusion and anger at the same time, his body locked like a living statue.
Victor who sat in a chair by his legs, let his face crinkle in pain as the hand on his shoulder tensed gripped him hard, but he didn’t make a noise.
I’d missed something, forcing my body to turn, I focused on the last person who’d stepped through the door. He looked a close approximation to the Lenny in the photographs, but not quite.
“Hello Mickey”
His voice as smooth and slow as Dad had described.
I watched as Dad turned and stalked out of the room, leaving Victor strangely speechless, suddenly, face darkening, he gave this new Len a murderous look and stalked out after Mick.
“Well, didn't that go well” Len drawled “Did no-one think to tell him first?”
The woman in white shrugged noncommittally
He turned his attention to me, eyes darting from my feet to my face. I did my best to look impassive. He held out his hand.
"You must be Effie"
I narrowed my eyes this time, and he put his hand down. This person was supposed to be dead, but wasn't. It was hard to get my head around.
"You must be Len" I said slowly
"Leonard" He said smoothly "But you can call me Leo"
"Leo" I repeated "That will be confusing"
"Why is that?"
"You sister named her son Leo."
"Lisa. Have you seen her?" His voice elevating in excitement. "Is she alive on this earth?"
His words made me smile slightly
"We see her and her family every Sunday for dinner."
"We?" He pondered
"Me and Dad"
"You mean Mick?"
"Yes" I snapped. This line of question was getting a little boring "I call him Dad. Mick when I'm mad at him and Heatwave on a job."
"He takes you on jobs?"
I flared my arms as evidence that I was a powerful Meta and not some helpless child. Not hot enough to suck up the oxygen, just enough to give him a show.
He stepped back.
Wary.
Good.
“They call me Fire-starter" I gave him a display of spirit fingers and blew out the flames out with sharp puffs of air.
I’d been watching cheerleading movies, sue me.
I could swear that Len, sorry Leo, gotta remember, looked sad.
"He's still alive isn't he? I muttered in a way that I hoped was reassuring.
"You are quite right of course" He conceded
I glanced at the door, expecting Victor to have convinced him to come back after sulking for a while. That was the way it usually worked.
This time there was nothing.
It must be bad.
I quietly opened the door and stepped outside, puling my jacket around me. The snow falling fast like a shaken snow globe. I flared my fingers, but they spluttered. Out in the distance, at the far end of the airport huddled under a dandruff like snow covered tarpaulin Mick and Vic conferred quietly, the odd expletive cutting through the air as far as my ears.
I paced through the fallen snow in a precise direction so as not to disturb them and got few feet away before I could hear their voices. I ducked behind a piece of machinery and listened.
“That’s not Len” asserted Victor in a strong calm voice.
"I know that Vic" Mick spat
“Deal with it”
“I will deal with it. I’m fine” He ended the sentence with a huff, which now made the argument redundant and Vic knew it.
“In that case, you can go back inside. It’s fucking freezing out here”
Another huff. More a of a rumble really. I had the feeling that Dad wasn’t going anywhere.
“I know you’re there Eff.” Victor’s voice carried over the distance. I raised myself slowly from behind my hiding place, in case he was just guessing. “Eff” His voice dangerous
“Damn it. How did you know?” I pouted, shivering in the wind, trying to hold my voice steady.
Was it wired for someone with fire powers to really feel the cold? I’d never known anyone else with these powers to be able to ask them.
“You worry about him, like I do” Victor’s voice “Go inside, I’ve got this one”
I obeyed the reassured statement, looking back through the snow to check for an appearance, before I shut the door.
Inside, the two groups of criminals were facing off against each other like cowboys in a western, right before a shoot out.
Ok, I love movies.
Not a lot to do when you’re locked down after a heist.
Dad does weights and reads. I watch movies.
Minutes later Dad entered, an arm slung over Victor’s shoulders, a huge grin on his face.
“Alright. Blonde, whatcha doin’ here? Spit is out. We haven’t got all day.”
I glanced over at Victor and mouthed “What did you say?”
He made the sign for dragon and turned away. Fire, of course it was fire. Promise Dad arson of some kind and he would be putty.
"It’s confidential"
Mick adjusted his arm around Victor’s shoulders
“Vic is with me. Anything you have to say, you can say in front of him and Eff.
“What about the others?”
To tell the truth, I’d forgotten they were there.
"Them too"
"This doesn’t leave this room."
Blondie, as Dad called her glanced at the others she’d brought with her and motioned for them to gather in closer around the table. Vic motioned for his crew to join too.
“We're here Mickey, because we need your expertise.” The other Len said
Dad scrunched up his face, he hated that name unless it was spoken to him softly by Vic in the middle of the night whenever he stayed.
They think I don’t hear them, but I do.
“We've spent the past few months looking into an anachronism.” Said the blonde officially.
“Changes in the time line that if left unchecked could mean the downfall of history itself” Said the man in the metal suit melodramatically.
“Ray” The blonde snapped like a warning “We tracked a level seven to the Great Fire of London. A new advisor to King Charles the second has appeared, one who looks suspiciously like Damien Darhk”
“London is not burning when it should be. We need to go back to reignite the fire and stop Darhk” That was the other Len again.
I frowned at Dad who shrugged, but looked like he knew who this Damien guy was.
“He’s a seriously bad guy” Said the guy in yellow lycra, his comment directed at me.
I fixed my expression to one of stoic nonchalance, when on the inside my stomach was bunched up in a mixture of apprehension and excitement.
Time travel, seriously?
What the hell had Dad been into?
“And, who are you?” asked dad, abruptly changing the subject, turning his attention to the guy in yellow.
There was one thing he didn’t like and that was crew he didn’t know and didn’t trust.
“Wally West or Kid Flash. One of the two”
He had a nice voice too.
Such a pity Dad had taken an instant dislike to him.
"We need your help put history right" Blondie continued “Are you in or not?”
"Who gives a fuck about history. Fires we can do. We’re in”
Dad pulled Vic in closer and flashed one of his maniacal grins. I rolled my eyes in response.
When Dad had an idea, he’s like a dog with a bone.
Looks like Vic would be sticking around for a while.
The past should be afraid, very afraid