Chapter 11 : Hostile Takeover - Part 1
March 2016 — National City — Downtown
The sky burned.
Astra's broadcast had gone out thirty minutes ago—every screen in National City showing her face, her message, her declaration of war. We will save this planet from itself. Submit, and you will be spared. Resist, and you will be eliminated.
Now her soldiers were proving she meant it.
I watched from the DEO mobile command unit as three Kryptonian-class signatures tore through the financial district. Buildings crumbled. Cars became projectiles. And Supergirl—
Kara was fighting two of them at once, holding her own but clearly struggling. The third had peeled off toward the harbor. Alex's strike team was en route to intercept.
"Vector analysis on target three," I called into my headset, pulling up satellite tracking. "He's heading for the power plant. If he takes out the main grid—"
"We lose half the city's infrastructure." J'onn's voice came through my earpiece. "I'm diverting units."
The mobile command was a converted semi-trailer, bristling with antennas and packed with monitoring equipment. Six agents worked stations around me, coordinating response teams across National City. I'd been assigned here as "technical support"—officially.
Unofficially, J'onn wanted me close to the action in case my particular skills became necessary.
They became necessary faster than either of us expected.
The attack came through the trailer wall.
One moment I was tracking Kara's fight. The next, metal screamed and a Kryptonian soldier tore through the side of the vehicle like it was tissue paper. Bodies flew. Equipment exploded. An agent named Morrison slammed into me, blood streaming from a gash on his head, and we both went down hard.
The Kryptonian scanned the wreckage. His eyes found me.
"Human." His voice dripped contempt. "Where is the Martian?"
I didn't answer. Behind me, Morrison was unconscious. Two other agents were down, one of them not moving at all.
The soldier advanced. "Your species is so fragile. Perhaps I should demonstrate—"
He threw a punch.
Phase 2 Vector Manipulation activated without conscious thought. The impact hit my raised palm, and I redirected—not stopping the force, but channeling it sideways, into the ground. The trailer floor buckled. The Kryptonian stumbled, thrown off balance by his own momentum.
Follow up. Now.
I stepped inside his guard and drove my fist into his solar plexus. Vector Punch—all the kinetic energy I could muster compressed into a single strike. It felt like punching a wall, but the wall moved.
The soldier flew backwards, crashing through the opposite wall of the trailer.
For three seconds, nothing happened.
Then he stood up, looking more annoyed than hurt.
Okay. That's not good.
"You have abilities." He cracked his neck, debris falling from his shoulders. "Interesting. But insufficient."
He charged.
This time I couldn't redirect. The blow caught my chest, lifted me off my feet, sent me through what remained of the trailer's rear wall. I hit the ground rolling, ribs screaming, vision blurring.
Get up. Get UP.
The Kryptonian emerged from the wreckage. Behind him, Morrison was stirring—dazed, defenseless.
Can't let him reach them.
I pushed myself upright. Blood ran from my nose, warm and familiar. The headache was building fast—too much power use, too quickly—but I couldn't stop now.
"Still standing?" The soldier seemed almost amused. "Your courage is admirable. Futile, but admirable."
He raised his fist for a killing blow.
A red-and-blue blur slammed into him from the side.
Kara hit the Kryptonian like a missile, carrying him a hundred yards down the street before he managed to break free. The fight that followed was brutal—two beings of equal power trading blows that shook buildings.
I sat in the debris, breathing hard, watching her work.
She made it. She's okay.
Then hands were pulling me up. J'onn in Henshaw's form, expression carefully neutral but eyes holding something like pride.
"The experimental armor performed well," he said loudly, for the benefit of the three conscious agents nearby. "Agent Schott's deployment was successful."
Cover story. Right.
"Yes sir," I managed. "The armor worked perfectly."
Alex Danvers
She'd seen everything.
The satellite feed from the mobile command unit had captured Winn's fight in brutal clarity. The deflection. The punch. The way he'd kept fighting even after taking a Kryptonian blow that should have killed him.
Experimental armor my ass.
The cover story might fool the regular agents, but Alex knew better. She'd been training Winn herself for months. She'd seen what he could do.
And now Kara had seen it too.
Her sister stood outside the medical tent, arms crossed, watching Winn get bandaged through the clear plastic walls. The expression on her face was complicated—fear, anger, confusion, all tangled together.
"Alex." Kara didn't look away from Winn. "What is he?"
"That's not my secret to tell."
"Bullshit." Now Kara turned, and her eyes were blazing. "You knew. You've known for a while, haven't you? The extra training sessions, the equipment requisitions—you've been helping him."
"Kara—"
"He's my best friend. My partner. And you both lied to me."
The words hit like physical blows. Alex wanted to explain—wanted to justify the secrecy, the protection, all the reasons she'd agreed to keep quiet—but nothing came out.
"The armor explanation doesn't hold up," Kara continued, voice dropping to something cold. "I saw the footage. That wasn't tech. That was him."
Inside the medical tent, Winn caught Kara's gaze through the plastic. His expression said he knew exactly what conversation was happening.
"Talk to him," Alex said finally. "He'll tell you everything. He wanted to, you know. From the beginning. I'm the one who said to wait."
Kara's jaw tightened. "Then you and I are going to have a conversation too. Later."
She pushed past Alex and entered the medical tent.
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