Page 83 of Gluttony
Good. Glad that was out of the way.
“Put it on,” Parker ordered.
Tony undressed right there. None of them were ashamed of their bodies, or prudes in the least. They’d been stuck with needles, poked and prodded as kids, and they’d spent the rest of their youth conditioning their bodies to be lethal weapons.
Removing his clothes, he stepped into the enormous, seamless outfit. It looked ridiculous unfitted, almost like a baggy garbage bag. Once he got his arms and neck in the right hole, he hit the form fitting button. Air whooshed out as the fabric retracted to hug his frame. He tested the fit by doing a few squats, feeling Parker’s assessing eyes on him the entire time.
“Feels good.” Felt familiar.
He retrieved his orange face-scarf from the mannequin and tugged it over his head. The elastic fabric could be pulled to cover his nose and mouth, or pool at his neck if he needed to breathe easier. Parker watched Tony reacquaint himself with the suit, and Tony could almost feel Parker’s need to add his two cents. When Tony lifted the hood, Parker said, “AIMI’s patched in now. And have you tested the syncing ability?”
Tony nodded. “I remember the demonstration.”
“Right. You just haven’t taken it for a spin.”
“I was with you at the black site, remember?”
Tony took Parker’s underlying snark on the chin. It was Tony’s fault after all. He’d taken a job with little flexibility and slowly forsook his duties as one of the Seven. Maybe his fear of failure had something to do with it. Either way, it was time he started making up for lost time. He fixed his posture.
“Let’s get kitted out.” Parker waved him into the weapon’s room, down the hall.
Inside was a veritable treasure trove for the battle inclined. Floor to ceiling racks of weapon’s grade steel, in all shapes and sizes. Swords, guns, rifles, grenades, accessories. Tony spied his old katana on the rack and lifted its weight to balance in his hand. Testing it, he rotated his wrist. Yep. Just like old times.
He sheathed it, then slung it over his back and synced the sword to stick to his suit. While he did that, Parker eyed some magnetic grappling hook guns.
Tony raised an eyebrow. There was only one thing they needed those for. Climbing tall buildings and roof hopping. Thinking the same thing, Parker’s lips curved on one side. He tossed Tony a mischievous look.
“Did I mention the new wing-suit capabilities?”
“Fuck off, you didn’t.”
Parker glued his legs together, and pinned his arms to his side, and then asked AIMI to activate the wing suit. He threw his arms and legs wide in a star-jump. A fine webbing appeared between his legs, and between his body and arms.
“You did!” Amazed, Tony crouched low and inspected the tensile fabric, poking it with a finger. “Where does it go when deactivated?”
Parker pointed at the inner seams, almost invisible. “Similar mechanism to the flexible computer screen on the wrist. Slides in and out when needed. There’s a parachute between the shoulders. Automatically retracts after use.”
“Shit, Parker.” Tony gawped. “If you weren’t using your big brain to help us come up with tech like this, you’d be making billions.”
His brother deactivated the wing-suit and shrugged. “How do you think I finance our operation?”
“True. Shall we go?”
Excitement zipped up Tony’s spine. It had been a while since they’d had some fun… maybe they would catch a plant-monster while they were at it.
Twenty-Six
It wassix p.m. by the time Bailey walked through the front door to Nightingale. Damien and Tomas were lounging at their desks, throwing paperclips at each other. They were most likely just finishing up from a day assignment or waiting to head off for a night gig. Or there was nothing on the roster. Max had been a little preoccupied lately.
Bailey put her overnight bag on her desk. “What are you two doing here?”
Tomas scratched his shaved head. “Max called a meeting. Didn’t you get the memo?”
Max called a meeting without her?
“No.”
“Then why are you here?” Tomas’s gaze turned sharp. “I would have thought you’d still be at Mr. Perfect’s place getting jiggy with it.”
