Read Super Powereds: Year 1 for Free Online Page A

Mr. Transport set the money on the table, careful to tip generously. A moment later he and Mr. Numbers were gone.
    Across the café, an elderly gentleman glanced at their table and noticed their absence. He nonchalantly folded his paper, set some money on his own table, and headed off to make a phone call. The elderly gentleman did not tip nearly as well as Mr. Transport.
    * * *
    Several thousand miles away, in the middle of the Arctic tundra, Mr. Transport and Mr. Numbers reappeared. Both began shivering almost immediately.
    “How long?” Mr. Transport asked, willing his teeth to keep from chattering.
    “Three minutes fourteen seconds until health problems begin to set in,” Mr. Numbers replied automatically as he felt the temperature around him, tested the speed of the wind, and added in the meager protection his black suit offered him.
    “Watch is set for three minutes,” Mr. Transport said, quickly fiddling with the high-priced device on his wrist. Mr. Numbers and Mr. Transport were very careful when they wanted to talk openly. They always selected areas with no possible people to surround them, in abstract locales and with ample background noise so that listening devices and GPS would be rendered ineffective. They never used the same place twice and always kept their conversations under five minutes. Say what you will about Mr. Numbers, he was a very calculating man. No pun intended.
    “Now then, what do you actually make of our new assignment? Are we being punished?”
    “For what?” Mr. Numbers shot back. “Our success percentage is 98 percent, we finish our missions in the fastest time of any team, and we have had no recorded insubordination in the history of our career.”
    “Then what would make them do this to us?” Mr. Transport asked, allowing the uncertainty and fear he had kept hidden away since he saw the document flood into his voice.
    “We mustn’t assume the worse,” said Mr. Numbers. “Many of the reasons they had for putting us on this job are actually quite sound. They expect me to see any problems coming before they reach a critical point, and you’ll be necessary in the event we need to evacuate ourselves and any others involved.”
    “I don’t imagine that’s really all there is to it,” Mr. Transport said flatly.
    “Nor do I,” said Mr. Numbers. “Unfortunately, with the data I have, I don’t yet know what the ulterior motive of placing us in this position is. The only option we have is the same we’ve always had: do our jobs, stick to the books, and give me enough time to see what’s happening behind the scenes.”
    “Do you think you’ll be able to figure it out before we’re stuck in whatever trap someone is planning?” Mr. Transport asked.
    “I always have. Of course, that doesn’t mean I always will, but I don’t really see any other options available to us, let alone any better ones,” said Mr. Numbers.
    “Agreed,” said Mr. Transport. A loud beeping began emanating from his wrist. Mr. Transport raised his watch and promptly turned it off. Without another word said, he and Mr. Numbers were gone from the sprawling white mounds of snow.
    They reappeared in the apartment Mr. Numbers was currently renting under the name Mr. Digit. Mr. Transport tipped his head to Mr. Numbers then vanished to go pack his own bags. Mr. Numbers moved about his home, carefully controlling his movements so as not to show his body’s relief at entering in the heat, nor to shiver out of the residual cold still clinging to him. Instead he packed up his clothes, which consisted predominantly of suits, gathered his very few personal effects, then bagged up the remainder of his possessions, which were his toiletries. The room would need to be cleaned of all traces of him, but the company had a department for that. They would also take care of settling up the rent and making sure no one asked questions about Mr. Digit’s sudden departure.
    Mr. Numbers took a moment to go to his window and