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should lead right to the area where Rudi was. Smokey, floating like a cloud against the ceiling, followed her.
    In addition to the double doors that my friends had gone through, there were also similar doors to the left and right of the stairwell we’d entered through. Hearing footsteps on those stairs now, I raced around the room, grabbing furniture and stacking it up against the stairwell door.
    I was about to do the same to the side doors and was actually in the process of dragging a couch over to one of them when the door in question burst open. One of the guards stepped through, carrying an ugly-looking weapon in both hands, with a muzzle big enough to put my fist in.
    Already at super speed, I watched as the guard fired. The projectile that left the barrel was somewhat bullet-shaped (although about the size of my hand), but seemed to be shooting fire out of the far end. Apparently, the weapon was some kind of handheld rocket launcher.
    I was close to the center of the room at the time, and I watched for a few seconds as the rocket approached. Then I flipped the couch up lengthwise and took off towards the opposite door. About halfway to the door, curiosity got the better of me, and I turned around – while backpedalling at super speed – to see what would happen. It was easy enough to explain: one second there was a couch; the next, there was kindling and toothpicks as the rocket exploded.
    I turned back around, ready to dash out the available side door and find some other way to my friends, when something like a sledgehammer caught me across the jaw. I went flying back towards the center of the room, close to the stairwell door that I had blocked off just a short time earlier.
    I shook my head, trying to clear it, but it was immediately obvious what had happened. While I was glancing back at the exploding sofa, Mr. Ponytail – the big super – had come into the room through the door I was to head out of. I’d set myself up perfectly, and when I turned back around towards the door, he’d caught me with a solid backhand.
    Mr. Ponytail was actually walking towards me now, striding confidently towards where I was still practically laid out on the floor. Flanking him were two other guards.
    I was tempted to head out the doors to Rudi’s room, cut my losses and try to finish the mission. But the whole point of me staying back was to buy them time. It wouldn’t do much good if I made a beeline for them now with most of Chamomile’s security detachment in hot pursuit. I looked towards the door where the guard with the rocket launcher stood, getting ready to make a dash by him. He obviously sensed what I was up to, because – as I shifted into super speed again – I saw his finger start to clench on the trigger.
    I took a calculated risk then, telekinetically giving his hand a little nudge. With any luck, people would think it was the recoil that made him fire so wildly. Regardless, when the trigger was pulled, the rocket headed towards Mr. Ponytail, not me.
    I’m not sure what I expected to see. Maybe Mr. Ponytail was going to duck and take cover. Maybe he was going to simply sidestep the rocket. Maybe he was going to do what I did, and throw something in its path to intercept it. What I did not expect, was what actually happened.
    As the rocket came towards him, Mr. Ponytail reached out his hand and caught it. He then held it in his hand as its propulsion jet seemed to expend its fuel and sputter out.
    To say I was impressed would have been an understatement. What he did next, however, awed and astounded me.
    As the flames at the end of the rocket died, Mr. Ponytail must have had a premonition of what was going to happen, because he suddenly looked from the rocket to the guards with him, and then back to the rocket. Then he tucked the rocket to his midsection, wrapping his arms around it and enfolding it like a running back protecting a football. There was a muffled sound, like a giant stone statue coughing, as