The fenced off area Wes was standing in front of leads to a nondescript building with the words RENOVATION over it. Heading in, I follow my gut and head straight down to the basement, but not before I sneeze at all the dust on the cracked tiles and lingering around the worn out columns.

This place must not have been touched for a while; it's an abandoned museum, but even creaking my way down the basement stairs, it's hard to place it as anywhere someone would willingly hang out. There are a few electrical lines still connected in this building, but this place is so old, only the ancient slumbering desktop computers on the third floor return a call when I send out a sensory wave to see if anyone's here.

Our team lead is a scrawny, beige-skinned teenager in oversized skater clothes. He's spinning his way on an old office chair in the centre of the basement when I arrive, the brown of his hair scraggly as his eyebrows. One thumb slides across his phone before he says, "River Ng, right?"

"Right."

The spinning stops with a quick jerk by an invisible force. "Name's Rafter," he says, unperturbed, "but call me Josh because I'm thinking of changing the name in about a week. What can you do, River Ng? Sum it up for me in one easy, memorable phrase."

"I'm basically the Hackerman meme combined with a sonar radar," I say.

Josh scratches his cheek, spins his snapback from front to backwards. His brown eyes search mine, considering. "I guess you could help us pull aggro. How fast can you run, you think?"

Aggro as in drawing enemies out to the main force? "Wait, you're putting me on the field already?" No trial period?

Josh shrugs, tossing his phone up into the air. It flies up and across the room, spinning a quick loop-dee-loop before it lands back into his palm. "Sorry, never had a support supervillain before. All my people either go hard or go home."

So he's not using me in a good position just because he wants to. Still, it's kind of nice that he considers me one of his people already. "You've got Wes on welcoming duty, though?"

"Wes is a witch," Josh replies, "which as we both know, means she's on the League's watchlist, and there's a limit to how much we can use her if it isn't an emergency."

"Fair," I admit. Wes is going to be pissed when she finds out, which is why I'll never tell her. "So what's the plan?"

"Over there." Josh nods over to the chalkboard some wheels right in front of us.

It's divided into two parts. One, which takes up a direct half of it, where there's a really well drawn chalk map of the entire surrounding area, along with different coloured Xs.

"Long story short, we're interference. One of the crews is planning on robbing the town bank, which is bad timing, because we've got some big superheroes coming in town for a while." Josh gestures over to Part Two, where there are several Os around the corner. "So our job is to split that team up. We will distract, and we will cause as much damage as we can before the Association comes in with more superheroes."

"Who else is in on the operation?"

"That," Josh says, "is a secret." At my expression, he shrugs. "Can't help it. Recon reported there's a mindreader in the superheros, and I'd rather not risk identities. Though with you..."

"I can't afford the name change," I say, flushing.

"I can spot you?"

"No," I say. "In fact, that would make me feel much worse." Who changes their supervillain name on the second day of work anyway? And who borrows money from a team lead to do that?

Josh shrugs. "Your loss." He reaches out with one arm. At first, I think nothing's happening, but then something flies in my direction. "Here."

It's a backpack. I catch it, noting a small ringing pulsating from its front pocket. "What's in it?"

"Equipment," he says. He taps at his ear where I can see his hearing aid--before I realize he's tapping at chord attached to it, and then moving a mouthpiece over where I can see it. "You've got an earpiece callibrated for you inside your bag, and the backpack itself has been spelled for teleportation for a quick get-away. Keep it on you. I'll be speaking to you throughout your aggro."

So saying, Josh resumes spinning on his chair.

"Wait," I say. "That's it? I don't know who these superheroes are."

"You'll be fine," Josh says. "My powers extend to the sight. I can look behind your eyes and I can tell you who they are for you. The earpiece is just because you won't be able to speak back to me otherwise."

So I'm doing my own recon? "But I've got no game plan." Even more, I feel like I'm in over my head.

Josh halts his chair.

"This isn't the Institute," he says, leaning his head on his knuckles. "I'm not here to teach you how to work in a team. You're an official supervillain, so you can make your own plan. All you need to do is to accomplish the objective. Superheroes make specific plans. Supervillains don't get along enough to do anything but just wing it."

I'm at a loss. "And I'm going alone?"

Josh gives me a nasty look. "We've got people around. Do whatever you think is right and nobody'll interfere. Just look out for yourself, right?"

Supervillain's creed: Watch your own back because nobody else is going to.

"Right," I say, uneasy, and Josh, with his psychic or whatever powers, shoves me up the stairs.