Vs Reality by Blake Northcott Page B

Cole shouts, incredulous. “To sit here and watch Brodie do bong hits while an innocent man is tortured in some filthy warehouse? Let’s head down there and go save him.”
    “That’s not the way this works,” Paige says, now tapping at her phone with both thumbs. “We take care of our own, supply them with Muse, and try to keep them out of The Basement. But what you’re talking about …uh-uh. Not happening. We don’t go on suicide missions.”
    Brodie inhales deeply, a cloud of mist rising around him. “Yeah, that’s like, our first rule, bro…no suicide.”
    “You cowards,” Cole says under his breath. “You fucking cowards.”
    Dia cocks an eyebrow. “So what are you suggesting?” she snaps, her vague attempt at being maternal vanishing like vapor from Brodie’s bong. “You want to mount a full-on, balls-to-the-walls assault against two Collectors? Armed with nothing but our charming personalities? Brodie is right, this is a suicide mission.”
    “I know, I know, but…” Cole blinks hard, wiping the perspiration from his brow. He tries to focus his anger and channel it into a convincing speech, though public speaking has never been his strong suit. “Guys, I know how this sounds, but it doesn’t have to be a suicide mission. We can do this. I can manifest again and start kicking some asses like I did at Platinum.  I just need one of those Muse pills, right Brodie? And Dia, you can tear open a gateway or whatever, and—”
    Dia holds up a hand. “Hold on there, cowboy. First of all, we don’t know what the hell we’re even getting in to. They could have back-up waiting, they could be heavily armed. For all we know they could have the entire warehouse rigged to blow with plastic explosives by now.”
    “Second of all,” Cole says, steeling his resolve, “is that you owe me , Dia. I saved your life in that alley tonight. If it wasn’t for me, you would be the one in The Basement being experimented on like a lab test bunny. You said it yourself. You guys have the chance to save an innocent life here. If you have all this power what’s the point if you never use it?”
    The dark, intense storm clouds swirling behind Dia’s eyes seem to dissipate, if only for a moment.
    Paige steps to her side. “Look, Cole, if you want to be a comic book character now that you’re all superpowered, be my guest. Brodie can hook you up with a bottle of Muse and you can be on your merry way. Buy some spandex, put on a cape, and go save some damsels in distress. No one here is gonna stop you.”
    “Fine. Hooke me up and I’m off,” he replies icily. “I’ll probably fail. But if they capture me, you know they won’t kill me. They’ll trace me right back  here to you guys. So either come along and help, or they’re gonna end up knocking on your front door.”
    Paige and Dia exchange a look. An intense, lingering stare that says nothing, but clearly implies something. Cole wonders for a moment if they’re communicating telepathically.
    “Ugh,” Dia groans, burying her face in her palms. “If – and that’s a big goddamned ‘if’ – we decide to help you, this is it. No more favors. And no more contact with any of us in the future.”
    Cole responds without missing a beat. “Deal. Now where are your weapons?”
    “We don’t have any,” Paige says flatly.
    He raises his eyebrows. “That’s encouraging.”
    “But we might not need them.” Brodie says, his red-rimmed eyes now lit with a bizarre type of enthusiasm. “I think I have a plan. Our only chance is to draw them out in the open, and hit them while they’re distracted. That should give us enough time to grab Jens and jump through a gateway back here to the penthouse. But it won’t be easy; we’re all going to have to work together to make this happen.”
    “So,” Dia says, “what exactly do you have in mind?”
    Brodie reaches out to Cole with his palm facing upwards. “Pass me your phone, bro. I’m calling in the big guns…we