Ping!

A text on her cell. An address. Unknown number. No words, except her name.

”There are cloaks and there are daggers,” Lenna noted gravely… then glanced around, as of to check whether any persons present might question her on misuse of what she was sure was a very common American phrase. She thought she had botched it… given past experiences with American phrases. Nobody in class questioned the wording? Okay. Good.

Lenna put her phone away, before she was going to get in trouble. Miss Rebecca did not like it when people did not pay attention in English class. This address would have to wait until later.

—

Later.

Lenna left the mansion grounds. The building was still in the process of being rebuilt. Time had passed since the battle. People had healed. Some were still struggling to cope with things.

She called a cab. It arrived in front of the grounds. She got in and gave an address. Lenna could not drive. She had no license. Probably good. If she had owned a car, the destruction of the now-rebuilding mansion they were leaving in the rear view mirror would have claimed the vehicle. Small silver lining, but sucked to be someone who had owned a car. Insurance would not cover That.

The location the cab took her to was a nondescript building. She paid, and left the vehicle. Then she approached. There was a buzzer. She buzzed.

”Someone gave me this address and told me to come. Wait, no. They wrote my name. It was all very cloak and dagger.” She finished. There. Suddenly, she was proud of herself. She had checked. This was the correct phrasing. She was becoming more American every day!

Lenna did not know SUPER had been tracking her extra hard, since the events of the battle got the mansion (in which she had played an active role). She knew they had tracked her in the past, due to her connection with them. In a past life. She had stolen a credit card and phone and owed them much money. And apologies and explanations. She had fought agents before, they’d believed she had gone AWOL, defected, or was a liability. She WAS a liability, but for her own reasons. Not theirs. There was animosity. They had tracked and attacked her. Multiple times. Once, at her past life’s home. They had broken things. One was trust. She had also broken some of their men. They had lived though. So.

Lenna was not dumb. The mansion battle had been catastrophic, cataclysmic, news worthy. Laughing man go boom. Her head has aches for days after that last assault. Psychic damage? Maybe. Or overuse or her own powers. If someone contacted her now, someone had noticed her then. In Footage or in person. Watching. Waiting. Compiling. Had her full name. Real name. Not aliases. Information. They had prepared for this meeting. A trap, it is… as Yoda would say.

She was not armed. You do not come to a government building armed. Or you do… and she was being silly. This could have been unrelated to SuPER entirely. Thus could have been the mob. But they would not have given her the courtesy of a call. They would have attacked. She had made enemies in the past. At least the mystics were no more. Scorched that earth… yay. Proper use of phrase!

She pressed the call button once more. ”Why do you make me wait?” she said impatiently. ”You called me!”

After a tumultuous few months... years... okay, things had always been tumultuous at SUPER. Still, things were finally getting sorted and accounted for on the record. Given the unethical origins of the organization, it was unsurprising how many projects and programs were operating off the books, even in this new universe under new leadership.

Sabine had a lot of cleaning up to do, but she considered this a good opportunity to track down problems that fell through the cracks.

Problems like Agent Lenna Kadick.

Agents going MIA was unfortunately not unheard of, but after the Mansion Mission, Sabine had an answer for one of their missing assets. It was probably obvious now; Lenna wasn't the only member of SUPER to get caught in the crossfire of Betsy Button and her age regression spree. When Sabine discovered Lenna, she kept tabs on what the ex-agent was up to, but after the Mansion, it was time to touch base with her.

She arranged for the meeting to take place in an off-site office no one used regularly. Sabine was meeting Lenna on her own, but Lenna didn't know that.

She sat in the lobby in a chair, across from another empty chair. She hit the button to unlock the door. "Waiting for verification to check out. I guess you haven't figured out patience yet."

When the door opened, Lenna entered the building. The lobby area seemed generic. No fancy signs to give clue to identity if the person seated in the waiting area.

”Sorry for my impatience. The last few days have been… but this is no excuse for my rudeness. Miss… who do I have the pleasure of addressing?” Lenna said, smoothing away earlier roughness best she could. Not perfectly, but it was a much more reasonable tone than before.

She did not like being at someone’s liberty, in their power. Of all Lenna’s, was this theme common.

The chair seemed comfortable and serviceable enough. As she sat across from the woman, Lenna’s mind focused her power on the chair beneath her. Her own chair, of which she had close knowledge. As a result, colors came back into being in her mind. She could see the paint on the walls, the color of the other woman’s clothes, her eye color, and so on. Lenna did not do this to ready an attack. There was no visible cue she was doing it at all. It simply was done to get a better look at things. If it kept a readied weapon at hand, that was just a plus.

”Can you please tell me why I am here?” She requested politely, face a — well, ‘calm mask’ is cliche. It was more a study of self control, to cover trepidation. She looked calm because she was trying to, polite because of effort. From earlier attitude, it was clear she was not okay. But she was trying to be. She did not care if that had been the goal of the woman, from her comment. Patience was a virtue Lenna could display,, when she wanted to.