Smith’s smile wrinkled and the colonel gave her a hard look. “Ma’am,” said Shelly, “I understand the past twenty-two months have not been easy for anyone, and they’ve forced us all into patterns of behavior we wouldn’t have in a peacetime situation. But I can’t help feeling like you’re one of those civilians who feels they’re a lot safer at home with their shotgun and pistols.”
“If that were the case, colonel,” said Stealth, “would I run the risk of being left behind?”
There was a brief silence. Then the door clanged open.
The space was large, as big as the scenery shop Danielle had turned into a workspace back at the Mount. The ceiling was dotted with half a dozen sunroofs, filling the area with natural light. A trio of large, rolling toolboxes stood in the center of the room near a few work platforms. Along the wall were some larger tools and tanks of gas for a welding set-up. “Very nice,” she said.
“If you need anything else, we can try to get it for you. Any special tables or racks for the armor can be constructed to your specifications.”
“Well, this is a good start,” she said. “I can use the foam molds in the crates for now.” She found a pry bar in one of the toolboxes and opened the smallest crate. It was the helmet. Her shoulders loosened at the sight of it.
Colonel Shelly looked down at the armored head and met its gaze. “Would you be up for a demonstration, Doctor Morris? Mr. Smith has been singing the praises of your armor for a few years now. I’ve seen some videos, but I’d love to see it in action.”
She looked at Stealth. The cloaked woman gave a slight nod from within her hood. “I’d need some help,” Danielle said. “Maybe half a dozen people with some electronics experience. Or at least some brute muscle that can follow orders.”
Shelly looked at Freedom and the huge officer gave a wry smile. “I believe specialists Wilson and Garfield fit that description,” he said. “I’ll put in a call. We should have a team for you in ten minutes, ma’am,” he told the redhead.
“Do you want a place to change into the undersuit?” asked Smith. “There’s an office and bathrooms over there.”
“No need,” said Danielle. Her fingers danced down the buttons of her shirt and pulled it open. Underneath was the skintight black Lycra mesh, studded with gleaming micro-contacts. She tossed the shirt aside.
Freedom smiled. “You wear your costume under your civilian clothes, ma’am?”
“It’s more convenient,” she said. “And it’s kind of a security blanket.”
They had half the crates open by the time the group of soldiers arrived. Four of them set up the legs while Danielle worked with Lieutenant Gibbs to assemble the codpiece. She found a ladder, lowered herself into the legs, and Freedom’s two super-soldiers got the torso locked together around her. The left arm went on without a problem, but there was some trouble with the right. By this point there was too much armor around Danielle for her to see the problem so she tried calling out instructions.
“Wow,” said Smith. He ran his fingers across the twisted metal on the battlesuit’s forearm. “What happened here?”
“A few months ago I got in a fight with another superhuman called Peasy,” said Danielle. “He ripped that M2 off and used it to club me in the head a couple of times. Wrecked the gun and the mounting, almost broke some of the optics, too.”
Stealth examined the damaged assembly. “What about this made it impossible to repair at the Mount?”
“Not much,” said Danielle. She tried to shrug, but buried in the inactive armor her tiny head just seemed to twitch. “Nothing. It just seemed like a waste of time to rebuild it after Peasy ripped off the old one. The barrel was bent, we didn’t have any more ammo for the guns, and...”
Smith looked up at her. “And...?”
She shrugged. “It felt like giving up,” she said. “If I was going to build things under half-assed conditions with iffy material, it meant I was accepting things were going to stay like this.”
The arm locked into place and they tightened down the bolts. One of the super-soldiers, Hancock, got the helmet balanced on a ladder while Gibbs made the final connections. He met Danielle’s eyes. “Is that all of it?”
She nodded. “Get the collar bolts done and stand back.”
The armored skull settled over her and the soldiers spun their allen wrenches. Hancock hopped off the ladder and pulled it away. The titan hummed with power and dozens of small hatches snapped shut across the armor, concealing the bolts. The collar slid together and the battlesuit’s eyes flared to life.
Cerberus flexed her fingers. “Much better,” she said. She made a point of looking down at Freedom. Then she stomped out into the sunlight. Colonel Shelly followed the battlesuit outside. All of the soldiers marched behind him except for Freedom. The oversized captain stood like a statue across from the cloaked woman.
“After you, ma’am,” he said.