I’m here. Warrior Nation headquarters.
I open the doors, revealing a spacious control room. I instantly have to catch my breath, senses on overload as I begin mentally cataloging every single microscopic detail of my surroundings. It’s bright, despite there being no natural light, as everything is either painted white or made of glass. The styling is retro-futuristic, with furniture looking like it could have been modern in the 1960s paired with next-gen technology. Multiple movie-theater-size screens flash news reports and events taking place around Chicago, like the most wide-reaching security system ever. People hustle by, a straight-up army of support staff scurrying off to save the day in their own way.
It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I stand on the edge of it all, feet itching to take off and explore, and spot Joy talking to a familiar face, a tiny wisp of a woman with a severe gray bob and thick, giant glasses resting against her slightly wrinkled ivory face. She makes no effort to contain a sneer as she taps away on a tablet that’s almost as big as her. OMG! I suppress a squeal upon realizing she’s Millie Montouse, Chicago’s Warrior Nation spokesperson.
“You’re late for hand-to-hand combat training, Miss Goodwin,” Millie says in disapproval.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Joy answers.
“I am disappointed with your performance this week,” Millie continues, not even looking up from her screen. “You are not where we expected you to be by now.”
“Sorry,” Joy repeats, hanging her head. For some reason, this puts a little pep in my step, seeing Miss Cockypants cower a bit. Joy spots me grinning out of the corner of her eye and sends me back a scowl. When Joy doesn’t immediately take off for where she needs to be, Millie looks up, giving her a withering stare, but then she notices me.
“And who are you?” she asks, scurrying over my way like a curious squirrel. “How did you get in here?” Her finger hovers over a red button on her screen that reads “Security,” so I quickly answer before anyone can drag me away.
“My name is Claire Rice, Ms. Montouse.” I extend a hand she chooses not to shake. “I am a finalist for the summer internship program, and I completed the last task.”
“Claire Rice,” she repeats, tapping my name into her tablet, instantly bringing up my applicant files. Her mouth remains expressionless as she scans all my paperwork. “Well, Miss Rice, then I suppose congratulations are in order. You’re the first to find the entrance, so that means the internship is yours.”
The first! Which means I’m already in the running to be the best. Yes! My future Warrior career trajectory flashes before my eyes, starting as an intern and climbing my way all the way up to the executive team. I also envision myself receiving a medal, something future me will rub in Demi’s face. “Thank you,” I say, smiling like an idiot.
“How, may I ask, did you accomplish this task?”
I glance at Joy, who gives a subtle shake of her head. I’m guessing bringing a civilian down to HQ unannounced is not exactly protocol and won’t reflect well on her. I probably shouldn’t be making enemies on my first day, but the opportunity to put Joy in her place is too good to pass up. “I was exploring the North Ave boathouse and saw Joy on the roof. She helped me.”
“Interesting,” Millie says, noting something on her tablet. “How very clever of you, Miss Rice. Miss Goodwin, please wait for me in my office.” Joy hunches like a puppy who’s just been scolded, but not before giving me one last dirty look. I cheerfully wave her goodbye. “Now,” Millie continues, “the internship doesn’t officially begin until next week, but I suppose there’s no harm in getting an early start. I’ll have my assistant, Teddy, give you a tour and get you set up with security.” She calls for him, and then takes off, surprisingly fast considering how short her legs are. The fabric of her bland pantsuit swishes with every step.
Millie Montouse is a Warrior Nation legend. She’s been their public representative for as long as I can remember. I watch all her briefs: very tough, no nonsense. I don’t think her face is capable of smiling. But she’s amazing, always standing up for the truth and protecting the heroes. What a cool job! Still, I didn’t know she was so short. They must have her stand on a platform when she speaks to the press.
I have a million questions to ask her, but I can’t get a single one to pass my lips. My eyes are too busy scanning the unbelievable scenery. We pass by a hallway of rooms, each with walls of glass: There’s a personal training room filled with weapons and workout equipment alike; a kitchen with chefs plucking fresh ingredients from an indoor greenhouse; a dry cleaner’s with rows and rows of duplicate hero suits, some with blood, burn marks, or holes waiting to be repaired. I see several white Vaporizer getups, along with earth-toned jumpsuits belonging to Earthquake. I’m keeping my eyes extra peeled for a glimpse of one of the actual heroes in person, but nothing yet.
We meet up with a fancy-haired twentysomething guy in a perfectly pressed button-down and tie. I feel so underdressed in my tank top and shorts; I’ll need to up my game on my first actual day of work. He holds a tablet just like Millie’s and has a Bluetooth device curled around his ear. An official Warrior Nation badge reading “Teddy Sizemore” hangs around his neck, and it’s so cool, I hope I get one just like it.
“So this is our intern?” Teddy says coolly, looking down at me.
“Yes, this is Miss Rice. Please get her set up. We’ll need to make some space for her at your desk.”
“My desk?” he asks, crestfallen.
“Is that a problem?”
“No, of course not.” He does a funny little bow, though she doesn’t notice, busy reading something on her screen. Then she heads off without saying goodbye, off to do something important, I’m sure. Once she’s a safe distance away, Teddy exhales and introduces himself. “Hi, I’m Teddy.”
“I’m Claire. Nice to meet you.”
“Welcome to the madness.” He gestures all around.
“It’s incredible.” I sigh as some assistants walk by with what look like new Aqua Maiden costume prototypes. She recently announced on her social media that she wanted to glam up her look and would be revealing a new hero suit soon, and based on the amount of sequins and shimmer passing me by, the woman is going for bling.
“Eh, you’ll get used to it,” Teddy says with a shrug. “I’ve been here two years now, and it’s weird how all this becomes normal.”
Impossible. I’ll never stop thinking this is the most amazing place on earth.
“Well, c’mon, let’s go. Millie is heading into a meeting now, but I’ll need to be by her side when it lets out. You’ve gone through all the background checks, correct?”
“Oh, yeah, all five of them.” I smile. My gleaming record got me through with ease.
“Perfect.” We continue walking deeper into the facility, an endless stream of glass-encased rooms rushing past us. Teddy goes into full tour-guide mode, spouting off some facts I know and some I doubt any WarNat has ever heard.
“Our headquarters is a series of tunnels and offices buried under the Chicago Loop and surrounding neighborhoods, spanning almost four square miles. There are nineteen hidden entrances, each with multitiered security clearances. This facility houses all major internal teams, from training, weaponry, logistics, all the way to marketing, publicity, and philanthropy. We have about four hundred employees in total, each with varying levels of clearance.”