Heroes The Breakaway - The Beginning Chapter 1

(A small 4 bay automotive repair shop near the freeway just off Broadway in North Denver)

"All done John, see ya tomorrow"

"Alright kid, see ya in the morning. Don't forget to call for an oil pickup first thing, our tank's just about full."
John continued wiping his hands with a dirty red shop rag as he watched his employee leave. The young man had too many tattoos and his hair was too long but he was a good mechanic and a great help around the shop.

John walked to the open bays and rolled the doors down, it was almost 7 in the evening, closing time. John closed the last bay and walked to the wall and flicked the switch that turned off his shop sign just outside his office. MacManus Auto Repair the sign read for a short moment before it went dark with a flick of the switch. John walked to his small office and and retrieved a cold bottle of beer from the small fridge there and took a long drink from it. The day's receipts sat in a small pile on his desk in front of him and needed to be put on the books.

John drank more of the cold beer and daydreamed about being able to afford to hire a bookkeeper, maybe a pretty young woman. John looked around the dingy old shop with it's dented rolling tool boxes and shelves of oily used auto parts. John smiled as he imagined an attractive young female bookkeeper working amongst all this grease and grime.

"Keep dreaming old man..." John mumbled to himself as he picked up the pile of receipts.

John was reaching into his desk drawer for a pen when he heard the old bells on his front door jingle as someone came into the front of the shop.
"Crap..." John mumbled as he got up from his chair. John had locked the garage bays but had not locked the shop door yet. John walked into the open area of his shop to find not a regular customer but three impeccably dressed men in fine expensive suits. Two of them stood near the door and had on long overcoats over their finely tailored suits. The third man was walking around the shop, he wore no overcoat but he wore dark gasses despite the fact the sun was setting and the sky was growing dark.

"We're closed, open again at 8am tomorrow." John said as he stopped in the doorway of his small office.

"You are John MacManus and this is your place?" The man with the dark glasses said. The two other men stood still and silent staring at John.

"Yep. that's what the sign says, MacManus Auto Repair. Been here since '88" John replied.

"That is not true John, for a while you did not earn a living as a humble mechanic." The man said with authority.

"You left this trade behind and made your money working for the American Government. In fact you were practically a mercenary." The man said as he slipped a hand inside of his jacket.

John tensed up, if the man in the glasses was making his move the big mechanic would have to move fast. Just behind John was a rolling cart with a large wrench on it, the wrench was one used for removing nuts on semi tractor-trailers and was as big as a baseball bat. John took a step back slowly and slipped a hand behind his back preparing to snatch it up and start swinging like a madman if he needed.

The man brought his hand from his jacket, in his hand was a gold cigarette case. The man took a small dark cigarillo from the case and slipped it back into his pocket. One of the men in the long coats stepped forward and quickly lit the small cigar for the man and then stepped back to his spot near the door.

"I was no mercenary bub, I got no use for guns." John growled.

"No mister MacManus you are a brawler, a sort of gladiator. You most certainly do not use guns, but you don't need to do you mister MacManus?" The man said calmly as he smoked the small cigar.

John looked down at his large mechanical hand, it was his right hand. It had three large fingers and a wide thumb. In the center of the palm of the hand was a small hole, the hole was for a key, a key John wore around his neck. The hand resembled a steel boxing glove and there was reasons for that. At the knuckles were thick welding seams which kept the metal hand together and packed a wallop when they connected with some poor sucker's face or body. At John's left leg just below the knee was a heavy welded mechanical boot of sorts, it was twice as wide as an average leg and it kicked like mule. It was hard to miss, it forced John to walk with a slight limp and it clicked and whirred as the big mechanic walked.

"Like I said bub, we're closed. Open again at 8 tomorrow, if you ain't got car troubles then you need to move along." John said seriously.

"Of course John, your are right we are not in need of car repairs." The man said, smoke drifting from his mouth as he spoke.

The man nodded to the others and they moved towards the door stopping to hold it open for the man in the dark glasses.
"The organization that you worked so hard to destroy all those years ago John, it is not dead. The people that took your hand and your leg may be gone or rotting in prison but they have associates and loyal employees. They do not forget John and they do not forgive." The man smiled as he spoke.

"They told me to come here and to tell you that your actions have consequences John, even after all this time. What was broken by you is strong again and there is plenty of new blood and new ideas on how to deal with old, one armed, one legged mechanics that are over the hill and not as fast as they used to be."
The smile dropped from the man's face as he finished speaking.

"This is what I do John, I am an idea man. I solve problems. My name is Simon and I am sure I will see you again." The man walked through the open door and then stopped in the doorway.

"This is a nice place you have here John, you did nice work rebuilding it after the uh...fire." Simon said briefly looking the shop over. He then walked out of the shop to the long black car outside, the two men opened the door for him and stood near the car until he was inside. As the men in the long coats moved around the car John could clearly see the sawed off shotguns they had in specially made harnesses just beneath their coats.

"Who the hell was that?" John grunted as watched the car drive away.

"Goddamn rats coming out of the woodwork." The big man cursed as he walked back to his office, stopping to lock the front door on the way.

John put his feet up on his desk and grabbed another beer from his mini-fridge and drank it down in one chug. Glancing to his bulletin board he saw the date, he had almost forgotten that it was the day that he was expecting a visit from Bug. Bug did not always adhere to a true schedule but more times than not his old friend arrived when he said he would.

"I better make up the back room." John said moving through the shop and out the backdoor to the back of the lot where John's small but modest house was situated. John entered the small cottage and walked into the front room, old dusty pictures were hung with care, pictures showing a much younger John in a boxing ring holding up many gilded and gaudy championship belts. There was an old framed news article that had a picture of John in shorts and wearing boxing gloves. The pride of Bayonne, New Jersey. The headline read. There was a small number of shelves that held various boxing trophies going back more than 30 years. On the same wall was a much newer and less dusty frame. Inside this frame was a certificate embossed with gold lettering. The certificate read Presented to John MacManus for service of his country. It was dated more than seven years ago and was signed by various senators, congressmen and the President of the United States.

John did not look at these things twice as he went through the room, past the kitchen and into the small spare bedroom. It was empty except for a clean bare mattress on the floor. John walked over to the small window in the room and pulled an old dusty shade down making the room dark.

"There, just like the runt likes it." John said as he sipped his third beer.

Bug remained behind the large ventilation equipment on top of the shop as he listened intently with his ear to the ceiling. He could barely hear anything, but he could tell by the tones, specifically from John, that it was not the kind of conversation that was full of pleasantries. He heard the door open and he slipped to the front edge of the building and peered over as the three men got into their vehicle and drove off calmly. He noted the license plate number and put it to memory, and watched until the car was out of sight. He rubbed one of the tentical like hairs as he thought, and then looked over to see the sun just setting behind the mountains. He still wasn’t used to this place, they had been here a few years and still the difference between this city and the one they came from was so vastly different.

Bug had taken to living near the mountains. It made it easy to stay hidden from humanity, but he craved time with his friend, and once a month or so he would sneak into town and visit with John a day or two. Today was different however, he had an idea, and he wondered if John would go for it.

He slipped down through the small hatch in the roof that he and John had built not only for him to come and go but also as an escape route just in case John needed out of the shop as an alternative to the front or rear doors. He stealthed his way down and stood to his full height behind John. He saw john had just finished setting up a place for him to sleep and he was about to leap on the big man’s back when he heard the click of John’s zippo lighter, the same one he always used to light cigars. Puffs of smoke appeared from the front of John’s head and then his friends voice, “I wouldn’t do that kid, if ya know what’s good for ya.”

Bug laughed as John turned and Bug walked over to him, offering his hand. John laughed as they welcomed one another and Bug looked around the shop with a shake of his head. His tinny, alien voice broke the laughter and he spoke, “You still not clean with your mechanic stuff John”, he turned and looked at him.

John’s laughter broke the air again and he patted Bug strongly on the back as the two made their way to the back of the shop. There was a sort of sitting area where the two could be alone and avoid any prying eyes. The high fence where cars were kept overnight provided good visual security and the two had spent many hours here. Bug was still a fugitive of the Federal Government and so they took precautions to prevent any unwanted company. Occasionally agents would come and question John about Bug’s presence and he always responded with the same shrug and shake of the head.

John handed Bug a fresh beer and he sipped it as his eye twitched slightly. After 20 years he still wasn’t used to this beverage that John seemed to enjoy so much, but he drank it because he knew it was part of their “friendship time” as he always called it.

Was John sat Bug flipped a thumb towards the front of the shop and spoke, “What was the suits about?”

"Suits..." John said through his teeth. The word was almost a hiss.
John sat on a cheap white plastic patio chair that had been crudely reinforced with two-by-fours to accept his heavy frame. Bug sat in a sun-faded child's fold out chair with an oil stained image of Lightning McQueen on it.
"The past is never far behind us pal..." John said with more cheer as he watched Bug sip the cold Miller beer. Bug sipped the beverage like a teenager drinking his first beer, after all these years the strange small being had not come around to embrace the taste of beer but he sipped it regardless.

"The thugs in the fancy suits are mafia I figure..." John said tossing his empty beer bottle into a massive pile of glass and aluminum empties that had been growing to dangerous and unmanageable levels for some time. The addition of John's empty bottle caused the whole pile to give way, a wave of aluminum cans and dark brown bottles cascaded across the back lot. The avalanche of cans and glass came to rest a few inches in front of John's and Bug's feet.

"I'm guessing tonight was the polite visit, next time they'll bring more suits, more suits and probably more guns." John said without even acknowledging the sea of recycling that had just reached his feet like slow moving lava.

"We've been doing this a long time ol' buddy, you know how this goes. We scatter them like rats and they come back in time. They're like cockroaches when you turn the light off. Things have been quiet for awhile so's I guess it stands to reason that trouble would come knocking again. To tell the truth I thought it would be sooner."

John looked out to the interstate rising up behind his property, a big elevated loop of I-25 could be seen from the lot behind John's shop. Behind the highway the sun was dropping behind the Rocky Mountains. John pulled a half smoked cigar from his Dickies shirt pocket and lit it with his greasy old Zippo. The big man took a few slow and deliberate drags from the stogie before he spoke again.

"It's good to see ya pal." John said as he opened his fifth beer of the evening.

Bug listened to John and spoke in his strange accent, “Mafia? I thought thes Mafia would not be this far west? Does this go everywhere?”

He looked at John curiously, even after a little more than two decades on planet Earth human behavior perplexed him. Sure they had criminals on his home planet, that was what got him here in the first place, but the criminals here seemed more like a mold that crept out under everything and decayed the fabric of every city.

As John knocked over the stack of cans and bottles Bug picked one up that rolled and bumped the toe of the black Doc Marten boots John had bought him at a thrift store a year ago. The soles were smooth as glass by now and the laces had been tried back together several times but he seemed to not want to let them go. He looked at the bottle and then at the pile, “Maybe this suits visit is like those cans and bottles, about to spill out all over.”

He turned and looked at John again with a shrug and took another small sip of beer. John talked about the crime guys being like rats and Bug could only nod and respond, “I was hopes we were done, to move to the mountains on some properties like we talked. Maybe we should just goes, we not goings to fight them all by us selves John. No team anymore, just Bug and John, we strong, but not against lots of guns strong.”

Bug followed John’s gaze to the large loop of interstate. The sound of the trucks and cars whizzing by well over the posted speed limit made for a complex grid of white noise that had faded away over the time they had been meeting here. Bug had practically forgotten it was there. He watched the cars and turned when John broke the silence. He turned and smiled with a shake of his head, “It goods to see you too John. I was wondering yesterday as I was preparing to come here. I’m nots liking the living alone no more, is there space in the basements or something that I could lives here now?”

Things didn’t work out the way she had thought they would. Of course why should she think any differently. As long as the Riggs Act was still in effect she and the rest of the others would forever be looking over their shoulders. It tired her to no end. Why couldn’t the ‘normal’ population just let them live in peace? She knew the answer to that question even before she asked it. Because there would always be those with special abilities who would use those abilities for selfish and devious reasons.

It was the eternal struggle against good and evil. Light versus dark.

After getting separated from the rest of the group and trying to find her way elsewhere in the states and not being very successful at it knowing she couldn’t return to Slovakia, Yelena Petrokovich eventually made her way back to the Big Apple concrete jungle of New York City. Traveling cross country on the Hayabusa was not as difficult as she had expected it to be, especially since she traveled at night using the cover of darkness to aid her.

As she approached the city, she saw the sky scraper lights twinkling in the sky and the horizon getting lighter with the lights from the streets and businesses, she felt a sense of home was over her. A country girl at heart, New York always seemed to call to her. After all, it was the one place in the states she was very familiar with. Inevitably she would always return to the place she knew best and New York was that place.

The first few weeks in the city was a little rough but it didn’t take Yelena long to get settled into a quiet routine. She took a job as a waitress at a diner just off Broadway. It wasn’t a big place but the food was good and the customers loyal. The place was always hopping day and night and she liked working there watching the people of New York come and go. And she found being a waitress was something she could do without drawing attention to herself thus allowing her to maintain her anonymity.

She heard stories of how some of the meta humans were still thumbing their noses at the Riggs Act and refusing to get registered and being ‘a nuisance’ as the media would call it. Of course the stories in the papers always painted the meta’s as the ones at fault for any trouble the city had rather it was true or not. They were the scapegoat for anything and everything.

Yelena saw the name of one particular meta in the paper almost daily. Seraph they called him. Each story painted him as a thug who mugged people as they tried to make their way through the crowded city but something about the stories never set well with Yelena. There was more to this Seraph than the media was reporting. Especially when she began to hear customers whispering about the fact he seemed to be the one protecting the citizens instead of it being the other way around.

After working a double shift one night, Yelena was exhausted and finally clocked out. It was 2:30 AM and the streets of New York weren’t exactly deserted but they weren’t full of bustling crowds either. The small apartment she rented was a few blocks away so she walked to and from work every day. Normally she was very alert to her surroundings but that particular night she let her guard down. It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.

She’d just turned down a quiet street when she was grabbed from behind and dragged into an alleyway close by. Her attacker hit her hard over the back of the head with something that would have knocked her out but because of her meta body, she was only stunned for a moment. Thrown to the ground and her attacker falling on top of her immediately trying to rape her, Yelena let out a small cry of frustration and had pulled her fist back to deliver a crushing blow to her assailants jaw when a bright light filled the alleyway and her attacker was pulled off her. Her fist sailed through the air surprising her.

Quickly getting to her feet, Yelena watched as a young man faced off against her attacker. In a few short moments the whole thing was over with. Her savior was just getting ready to leave as quickly as he arrived when her quiet, accented voice voice reached out across the expanse and said just one word.

”Gabriel?”

The young man stopped as though he’d been punched in the gut and turned his blue, glowing eyes to look at her. He’d changed but she knew it was Gabriel. There was something more gritty about the young man but she’d recognize those eyes anywhere. He pinned her with his almost hostile gaze and she finally swallowed. Taking a tentative step closer to him and out of the shadows of the alley the street light filtering into the alley finally illuminated her face and she saw recognition return to his gaze. His handsome face split into a wide smile and the next thing she knew he had her scooped up into a bear like hug with her feet dangling off the ground.

”Yelena! IT’s good to see ya.”

It was the last thing Yelena expected and before she could stop him she was being hugged. Squirming like a worm on a hook Gabriel finally set her back on her feet and Yelena instantly took a step back holding her left hand out in a stop like gesture. Laughing nervously she tried to hide her initial reaction as stunned surprise but the look in her eyes spoke volumes as they always did.

”Is good to see you too, Gabriel.”

Gabriel quickly corrected her to call him Seraph and Yelena finally understood why the stories the media had been printing about the supposed meta criminal had not set well with her. This young man was in no way a criminal and never could he harm an innocent person.

Ever.

Over the next few weeks Gabriel stopped into Yelena’s apartment and talked to her about things that had been happening after she left. Over time, she began to grow comfortable with him and he never tried to touch her physically in any way after that initial greeting in the alley. One particular night he invited Yelena to go with him and see what was really happening in the city. Reluctant to do so, she agreed anyway. What she witnessed made her almost physically ill. The local authorities who were supposed to be protecting the citizens of New York were using their position to extort, intimidate and down right murder people into doing what they wanted them to do. Yelena saw what it was like in Russia for years and the more she watched, the angrier she became.

It was on that night Yelena made the decision to help Gabriel any way she could. Using her shape shifting abilities allowed her to get into places Gabriel would never have been able to go and once she found out the information she needed, she and Gabriel would be a thorn in the side of the authorities and cause their intended plans to fall apart.

But things were really starting to heat up and the last few times she and Gabriel had engaged the enemy they had barely been able to escape unscathed. Even now after they retreated back to Gabriel’s hidden lair, for lack of better words, Yelena felt the sting of a wound on her leg and saw Gabriel wince from time to time. Shaking her head, she looked over at him again.

”I think I get too old for this crap anymore……Now I know why I leave city.”

Nodding towards him, she furrowed her brows.

”You OK?”

"Mafia, wiseguys, whatever they call themselves these days, bet yer ass they're this far west buddy. They're not even all Italian anymore, seems they've become an equal opportunity job fair for asshole tough guys. We put a hurtin on 'em back in Chicago, and some organized crime rings back in New York are still looking to re-organize after the things we did to them. Hell Bug, we all but wiped them out completely back in Jersey." John smiled as he remembered some of the good old times, sure people got hurt but for the most part it was the right people...scum.

"Bug, you remember the time you were fighting with those turds in the bullet-proof limousine? They kept shooting and the bullets would hit you or the window glass and keep bouncing off and hitting them? Those chumps all but did the job for ya."

John grew quiet again and drank more of his beer. When Bug offered up his two cents on the suits John listened. The mechanic had learned to listen to his friend, although Bug seemed so young his instincts were razor sharp. Few people besides John knew of his past on his his home world and his time there chasing down his own version of criminals. Even the things that John knew were limited to a very few stories that Bug had shared here and there over the years. Bug's thoughts on these matters carried a lot of weight for the mechanic and he gave the small alien's words a lot of thought.

On the topic of staying, well John had a quick answer for that.

"Already set yer room for ya." John said with a beer belch.

Bug listened and furrowed his brows slightly as his friend talked about the mafia’s presence in Denver. He looked south towards the downtown area and then back to the west as John kept talking. When he started discussing what they did years past, messing up the crime rings on the eastern coast he chuckled softly and nodded his head in confirmation of remembering.

John mentioned the limousine and Bug visibly stiffened slightly and rubbed his chest where the bullets had been bouncing off him as he nodded again. He was relatively “bulletproof” from small and medium caliber weapons due to his tough skin but that never meant it didn’t hurt when he got hit. Bug was also never much for cars and even remembering being in one always made him go a little tense. The only car he was ever really semi-comfortable in was John’s old convertible, at least the top was open on that one. He did start to laugh again as the thought of those mobsters shooting themselves with ricochet’s entered his mind and he responded, “I’m also remember when the car stop and you tore the roof off. You was upsets that theys were all dead already.”

He smiled as John mentioned a room was set up for him and he reached over and patted John on the shoulder in thanks. He smiled his crooked smile as John turned to him and winked with a “you’re welcome”. Bug took another swig of beer, mimicking the way he always saw John do it and leaned back in the chair he sat in, “So, when you thinks those suits will come back?” John could hear it in the small alien’s voice, he was almost hoping it was sooner than later.

When Yelena asked Gabriel if he was alright, the big man was seated in a simple wooden kitchen chair, bent down to untie his heavy black boots. He chuckled slightly, before halting his action and glancing over to her with those glowing blue eyes.

"I don't think any of us are ever okay, Yelena..."

He finished taking off his boots and kicked them aside, slowly rising to his feet. Gabriel's secret lair, as it was, was actually in the belltower of one of New York's larger churches. Gabriel wasn't Catholic, in fact, it didn't seem that he adhered to any kind of organized religion at all, but, he appreciated the shelter that the priests and nuns that ran the place offered. If nothing else, they fed him, clothed him and hid him away from prying eyes, so, they earned high marks in Gabriel's book. He crossed to the far side of the small room and tousled that long blonde hair of his. He'd let it grow even more, and it now hung to his shoulders in golden waves. When he spoke again, turning back to Yelena, there was a weary, haggard note in his typically strong voice.

"Fact of the matter is, I'm tired... No matter what I do, it never seems to get any better." He offered another short chuckle, motioning to a stack of newspapers in one corner of the room. "Hell, as far as the papers are concerned, I'm a menace. Sooner or later, if you keep helping me, you'll be in the same boat. They don't care about the facts, they just want a headline."

Gabriel gave another sigh, then a shrug of his shoulders before turning away again. That hostility in his normally welcoming blue eyes on the night Yelena first reconnected with him wasn't simple nervousness about having been identified, it was clear to see that he was nearly at his breaking point here. The corruption of those who swore to protect the people he cared about, the simple day to day violence and hatred that swirled through the city streets? It was all eating away at him. He stepped across to a small trunk and flipped open the lid. He grabbed the back of the snug fitting black shirt he wore when on patrol and yanked it over his head.

He still had that physique that would make a roman statue jealous, but, rather than that smooth, unmarked skin that he had way back when, his torso was a road map of scars. Long, sweeping ones that looked like whip marks covered his back, and there were nearly half a dozen puckered circles that could only be bullet wounds. Toss in a nice smattering of slashes and various other unidentifiable marks and you had one fancy modern art painting on his flesh. The only open wound this time was a slash across his side, which he covered with a gauze pad and medical tape produced from that trunk. He then yanked out a plain white t-shirt and yanked it on, before crossing back over to Yelena and sitting in that kitchen chair once more with a sigh. He took a moment, then looked back over to her and flashed a smile, one of those old, genuine ones.

"Too old for this, though? You? Nah." He scratched the slight blonde beard he had going on. "Besides... I may hate it... but, this is what you and I were born for. I mean... I don't think I could survive in a nine to five, pencil-pushing job, could you?"

He leaned back in his chair, propping himself up on the two back legs, studying her with that steady, intense gaze. It had been good to see Yelena again. He'd missed her, like he missed all of his old allies, and he momentarily forgot that no touching rule of hers when they'd first met again. Since that night, he made sure to keep his physical distance, but, emotionally, well, Gabriel cared for his friends, and Yelena was certainly in that group, so, his heart was always on his sleeve for her.

"I'm glad you came back here, Yelena. It's been... pretty lonely here in the big city all by myself." He smirked a bit. "Not like I can really make pals in a bar, or invite a gal up to my fancy bachelor pad in the church..." He laughed softly, shaking his head.

"Have you spoken to any of the others?"

Yelena watched Gabriel as he moved about the small but comfortable room. His presence was always demanding rather he wanted it to be or not and with it filling up a good chunk of the space in the small tower in the church, it demanded quite a bit. Her observation of others had always told her more about them than anything else. She could see the way Gabriel moved almost like that of a caged jungle cat at times and she knew he was near the end of his tolerance of the things he was dealing with.

As she heard the weariness slip back into his voice, like he had on occasion when they talked, she knew things had to change in some way or he would either do something he would truly regret or find himself a prisoner of the government. Neither one set well with her.

”I not care about stupid headlines. If not for media, we would not have to worry about any of this. No Riggs Act. No mandatory registering. No imprisonment just because we are different. We would be free like ‘normal’ people. I can’t help but wonder though, if shoe were on other foot, would they be so willing to crucify us? Bah…..it not matter. Self centered people will never look to find good in anything they not understand.”

When he mentioned about her age and that she wasn’t too old she chuckled softly and rolled her eyes. No one really knew her true age. Hell, even she had all but forgotten it. Could it be she was in her in her late 60’s? Not wanting to waste time thinking of that, she had to agree with him on the fact they were both made for this sort of thing. As many times as she tried to blend in, literally in her case, she always found herself reaching out to help those who were victims of something or other.

”No…..no pencil pushing job for me……besides, I would not do well behind desk. Especially if boss tried to hit on me.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle as the mental image of what would happen in that sort of scenario. But when he turned that penetrating gaze upon her again and spoke letting her know he was glad to see her again, she nodded nervously and cast her gaze down to the floor for a moment before bringing her eyes back to his glowing gaze. Thankful he ended on a light note, she chuckled softly as well then shook her head.

”I glad to be back, Gabriel. Life of solitude is not good for anyone. It could make us grumpy. But no….I not spoken to anyone since I left Texas. I not see Tim for long so I left ranch in his friends care and headed back east. I figure others still here but I not see any sign of them….anywhere. I hope nothing happen to them and we just not know it.”

Taking a deep breath, she looked over at the far wall of the room then back to him.

”Do you think they are OK?”

(Somewhere in upstate New York among rolling green hills and pine trees in an large, old but well maintained brick hospital facility.)

A few large blackbirds were cawing from the top of the brick pillars out in front of the old hospital. Hospital was not the right word, the 'clinic' had been built in the 40s as a place for unwed young women to deliver their children and give them up for adoption or to a local orphanage. That was a long time ago, now the old clinic was a place where women and men of many different ages were sent for counseling, treatment and rest, lots of rest.

A polished copper sign hanging from one of the old pillars at the front gate identified this place as 'Shepard's Acres', a private facility owned and run by Franciscan Nuns. The facility was small compared to a modern hospital but large for it's time, 100 rooms in the main building and a few dozen more in the newer smaller additions that were scattered around the hospitals 50 acres. The Nuns tended to their duties about the large property aided by a few maintenance men and and a pair security guards. Many troubled souls called this place home, some needed religion, some needed the peace and quiet of the place and for some the scars ran deep and medication was required. A local doctor came a few times a week to monitor the few 'residents' that required pills and such. Many of the Franciscan sisters were registered nurses and new very well how to pass out meds so the older doctor was not needed full time.

On this warm, sunny afternoon a black car drove through the gates of of Shepard's Acres and on to the offices at the 'welcome center'. A tall, bald man exited the car and walked up the old stairs into the building. The man was wearing the clothes of a priest and the friendly sisters of Shepard's Acres took notice as he walked along. The tall priest entered the cheery offices, a few of the nuns came from behind their desks to greet the handsome, bald priest with the black goatee.

"Good afternoon Father..." A young nun chirped as she approached.

"Good day sister, I am here to minister with one of your flock. She is a Jane Doe, she has been here for some time." The priest said.

"You'll need to sign in Father...?" The young nun said waiting for the tall priest to fill in the blank.

"Trayne, Father Trayne." The man responded as he signed the book the nun slid in front of him.

"Have you been here before father?" The young nun asked nervously.

"I have not sister but I have no doubts you will show me the hospitality the Franciscan order is famous for." The priest said.

"Are you from our order father?" The young nun asked realizing he was no Franciscan.

"No my dear I am not." Father Trayne said with a hint of disdain.

The priest scratched his signature in the dusty old book and glared at the young nun as she could not help but stare.

"The woman I wish to see, she is one of your unfortunates, she is one of your segregated residents. A real lost soul." Trayne said quietly.

"She is around 18 or 19 years old but looks much younger, 5 foot 4, 115 pounds, long blonde hair. Beautiful blonde hair, it is like corn silk." The priest added.

"She has chronic hallucinations and requires constant medication." Trayne said quickly as he looked around the old offices.

"She is not one of our worst Father, she is the worst. She will take no counsel and will not join us in prayers or at mass." The nun blurted out excitedly.

"She says that she is not from here father, she claims that she drank a small vial of a kind of magic elixir and came from another world to this one..." the nun chattered on.

"i know sister, I know who she is, she is no Jane Doe." Trayne said fiercely.

"Father I wish you luck she..."

"I do not have much time sister, will you take me to her?" the priest asked.

"Of course father, one of our security staff will accompany you." The nun said looking past Trayne and into the hall were a uniformed security guard was approaching.

"Father this is Lyle he will need to be with you at all times."

"Hello Lyle I am Father Trayne." The priest said with a smile.

"Pleased to meet you father follow me." Lyle said walking quickly outside and to the very end of the building where many old iron doors were locked with newer padlocks.

"This is the difficult wing sir, there are about 6 residents kept here but none as poorly behaved as your Jane Doe ." Lyle said as he opened the lock.

Trayne took a hold of Lyle's arm and the man began to shake and sweat. Visible blisters were forming up and down Lyle's arms and face. Trayne took a quick look around to make sure no nuns were bearing witness to his attack on the security guard. Among the neatly trimmed hedges and shrubs near the end of the old hospital Trayne and Lyle were well hidden. Lyle let out a quiet hiss of a breath and fell down among the green bushes. Trayne did not look at him twice as he pulled the keys from Lyle's belt and quickly entered the spooky old hallway.

Trayne walked to room 5 and looked through the small barred window in the heavy door. The young woman was standing in the middle of the room and was talking to someone. Her face was turned up to the ceiling, she turned slowly as she spoke as if she was she was tracking a fly's movement across her small room. Trayne leaned closer to see if the young woman's words could be heard, the old door groaned slightly as he made contact. The woman inside the room stopped talking abruptly and sat at the edge of her bed in silence upon hearing the sound. Her eyes still tracked something only seen by her across the ceiling of her room.

Trayne slipped a key in the door and pulled the heavy door out towards him. Upon entering the room the priest thought he saw what appeared like a fading mist or strange cloud at the top of the small room, in the blink of an eye the mist was gone, if it existed at all. The young woman's eyes fell from the ceiling and fixed themselves on Trayne.

"Good day sir, have we met before this day?" The woman asked in a mild English accent.

"No we have not my dear, but know that I am a friend. Come with me I have need of your talents." Trayne looked at the ceiling just to see if the mist would return, the mist and perhaps two piercing eyes that always came with the mist.

The young woman took notice of this and smiled wide.
"You do know me sir do you not?" the woman said happily.

"Please my dear we do not have much time." Trayne said serioiusly. "Let us leave together now Alice." He added.

The girl smiled wide, and did the young woman seem so much more young as she did so. She twirled around in her small room in delight.

"I'll need a new dress, blue has always been my favorite." She squealed with delight.

"Of course my dear, anything you wish." Trayne said motioning for her to follow him.

"Can we make an additional stop after we've gone shopping?" She asked.

"Yes, of course anything you wish..." Trayne said walking down the hall watching for nuns or more security.

"Another stop besides to find a new dress?" The priest asked.

"It has been so long since I have had tea with my friends." The girl said.

"I wish to have tea with my old friend the Hatter." She chirped.

"Anything you wish." Trayne said.

"Glad to hear you say it father, for my friend the Hatter has been dead for a very long time. I will be so pleased to see him again. He makes the finest cup of tea you can imagine." The girl said with delight.

At the mention of the Hatter a light mist began to form just above Alice. Two large eyes formed in the mist. The eyes were the size of dinner plates and appeared frighteningly feline. The eyes were emerald green with flecks of gold and bits of glowing red.

Alice turned to the mist and the eyes and addressed them.
"See, you old silly? You were worried."

The eyes flashed and then faded, leaving behind the pale mist which faded somewhat slower.

The girl ran out ahead of the priest singing as she went along. They walked quickly to the priests car and soon they were driving away from Shepard's Acres.

Gabriel snagged a bottle of water from a small cooler that sat beside his chair and then turned the open cooler toward Yelena in case she needed something. Inside were more bottles of water, a handful of beer bottles and a couple of half finished bottles of vodka. If Yelena were observant, which, she certainly was, she'd probably have noted a few too many empty wine and liquor bottles placed somewhat inconspicuously around the room. That, along with a battered pack of Marlboro cigarettes, half gone, gave even further insight to just how close our hero of light might be to losing that serenity that he'd always had. For now, however, Gabriel stuck to the water. Whether that was because of Yelena's presence or not was unclear, but, he hadn't made any efforts to hide anything from her.

"I haven't seen anyone since Chicago, and even that was pretty brief..."

He glanced toward the outdated cell phone on the table, no fancy smartphone here, just a standard old flip phone. Harder to track, or so he believed. He'd considered making a call to Bug or John often during his time here, but... What if they had finally gotten away from all this madness? Maybe they'd been able to find the peace in their lives without trying to help people who'd rather shun them, unlike Gabriel. Hell, for all he knew, the numbers wouldn't even work anymore.

"...I think they're fine." He paused for a moment, as if asking himself silently if he truly believed that, before continuing. "We both know that John can take care of himself, and Bug's a lot tougher than anyone outside of our circle ever gives him credit for."

Gabriel took a sip from his water and kept silent for the moment. The world had done a good job at forcing everyone apart, and an even better job at rounding up those metas who weren't extra careful. Gabriel had seen plenty of them slip up and get themselves killed, or in some cases, captured, which, in his opinion, was worse. That fact had forced him even deeper into hiding than he'd ever been. He'd wager the same went for Yelena, John and Bug as well. Had they lost the war after all? Funny how you could lose a war you never wanted to be a part of in the first place, wasn't it? Snapping out of his little reverie, he looked back at Yelena.

"I haven't seen or heard of anything about them while I've been here... Maybe they went further out west? I think I'm the only one dumb enough to make my way back here." He chuckled softly, eyes ticking briefly back to the cell phone. "'Course... I do have their numbers... Think they still have the same phones?"

Yelena had chanced a look around Gabriel’s room and noticed the different bottles of empty and half empty alcohol and knew his inner demons and outer opposing forces was already starting to do damage to the young man in ways he would have a difficult time from recovering…if at all. Unless something changed to make him stop the self destruction he was starting to engage in.

Sitting forward on her chair she reached into the cooler and took out a bottle of water and then closed the lid quietly. Taking a long drink of the water after she opened it, she listened to what he was saying about John and Bug and nodded her head in agreement.

”I know. I just worry about what might have happened to them. They are both very….how do you say it….resilient but even they are not immortal, Gabriel. And given the way things are going now, it is possible they end up in authorities custody. If that happen……”

There was no need for her to say the end of that sentence for they both knew what is was. As the silence filled the room, they both would have been amazed at how similar their thoughts were for Yelena was wondering if John and Bug had been chased into hiding like the rest of the group had been. When Gabriel’s voice broke the silence she blinked and looked over at his golden topped head, glanced at the phone in his hand then back to him, blinking.

”I lost phone I had and never got replacement. I was afraid authorities trace call.”

She eyed the phone again and chewed on her bottom lip pensively hen glanced back up into those glowing eyes that still were a bit disconcerting to her. Her voice was almost whisper soft when she spoke as she leaned closer as though sharing a well kept secret with her friend.

”Only one way to find out, da? But…..we need to be ready for anything…..just in case.”

(Meanwhile on the North Side Of Denver Colorado)

John awakened with a snort, he was annoyed that someone was snoring like a sick animal and soon realized that it was he. The mechanic was on his dirty old couch in his living room, a place he often slept especially if he was doing some drinking. A few empty beer bottles rolled off the big man and clinked on the floor as he sat up. John sat for a few minutes before stepping into his mech leg which was standing empty like a fancy houseplant pot near the couch. The mechanic slipped his damaged leg into the device, it came to life as he did so, clicking and humming. John stood up and looked around for his mech hand, he was not currently wearing it. It was not on the end table near the couch where he often left it while he slept. The big man walked to the kitchen, on the counter was his hand. The big metal hand was still grasping an empty beer bottle, the empty bottle was standing upright with the massive hand closed around it like a piece of modern art.

"Now, that's funny..." The mechanic laughed as he checked the fridge for some breakfast.

John and Bug had stayed up rather late talking about the old days and tossing back more than a few cold ones. John did not hear Bug so he assumed he was still sleeping in the room John had made up for him. Bug was used to living on the streets, when John first met Bug he was living in an alley. John wouldn't have been surprised to look in on Bug right now and seem him sleeping on the bare mattress covered in old newspapers. But he wasn't going to bother Bug, he had not seen his friend for some time and was happy to have him here. As far as John was concerned Bug could sleep in as long as he wished.

The mechanic pulled some bacon and eggs from the fridge and began to cook them up. John then walked past his mech hand, still grasping the empty Miller beer bottle on the counter top and started a pot of coffee. Soon the small cottage behind the auto garage was full with the smell of bacon and hot coffee and John was feeling a bit more awake. The beer haze of the night before was lifting from the mechanics head as he sipped his first cup of coffee. Looking at the clock in the kitchen John could see he had about an hour before he needed to open the shop, plenty of time to enjoy his coffee.

John walked out the kitchen door to the side of the cottage, a half dozen wild cats were waiting there. John picked up a half empty bag of cheap cat food and poured some of it into a few empty old bowls and the cats went to eating it.
"Yeah, enjoy it you beggars." John said as they attacked the food.
John sat on the steps and drank his coffee as he watched the cats pig out. The big man acted as if the cats were a big pain in the ass but he liked seeing them every morning.
"Same thing every morning, eat and leave you bums." John said as a few of the cats finished eating and wandered off.

John was smiling at the animals when he noticed that the space near the house where his prized convertible Cadillac was always parked was empty.

John dropped his coffee mug on the ground, the hot brew spilled out onto the gravel. John rushed over to the parking space.
"Somebody's gonna die..." John growled as he stood in the empty spot. Not even the custom cover John had for the long, silver car was there. Sure enough Gladys was gone.

A small white business card was tacked to the wall of the shed that the car was parked near. John pulled it off it's pushpin and held it close to his face to read it.

The card was bright white with gold lettering. Simon Vega- Consultant it read and there was a local office address. At the bottom of the card was some very neat hand writing: John, let me buy you lunch.

John was fuming as he read the card. The mechanic walked back into his house, into the kitchen and slipped his arm into his mech hand. The hand flexed and moved as John slipped it on, it was fully charged.
"BUG!, Wake up buddy we gotta go downtown!" John howled.

Gabriel offered a smirk in response to that last line of Yelena's. One could be ready all they wanted, but, that was the funny thing about these Riggs Act loonies, they always found new and unusual ways to try and lock you down. Given Gabriel's meta power set, it was a wonder they hadn't simply tried to blow him into chunky bits on the pavement yet. On the other hand, how long would it be until the blonde bruiser decided to stop being nice and really go after those who would subdue him and those like him? It was a fine tightrope that was being walked in the world today, wasn't it?

"Ready for anything, just in case, huh?" He shook his head, the bemused smirk still in place across his lips. "Yelena, my dear, as your people might say: Volkov boyat'sa — v les ne khodit'."

When he spoke in Russian, it was as if he was a citizen of Moscow itself, perfect inflection, perfect rhythm. The proverb, roughly translated to 'If you're afraid of wolves, don't go to the woods' or 'If you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen' if youd rather, was coupled with a wink and a sly grin, before Gabriel turned his eyes back to the phone. He flipped it open, almost delicately, as if it were a bomb waiting to blow up, and studied the glowing display for a moment. This was a risk, he knew it as well as she did, but, something in that big heart of his told him it was a risk they, HE, needed to take. He knew the state he was in, but, it was getting to the point where he was almost helpless to stop it. Something had to change, and, you didn't get change without taking a risk or two, right?

He placed his thumb to the menu button, then looked through his contacts. There certainly weren't many. There were some women's names, back from when he thought he might be able to live a normal life here, a couple of takeout places, the church... He halted over Bug's number and took a slow breath. He cast his eyes to Yelena for a brief moment, before pressing send and placing the phone to his ear.

He waited in silence, until that familiar three toned error message buzzed in his ear. The number he was trying to reach was no longer in service. With a mildly annoyed grunt and a frown, he took the phone from his ear and hit the end button. He ticked down to John's number and tried that, with no better result. It seemed that neither one were as dumb as he was, keeping the same phone. He flipped the phone closed and dropped it onto the table with a thud, before turning back to Yelena.

"Guess they were smart enough to move along, huh?" He smiled, but, the tinge of sadness in his tone was unmistakable. "Think there's any other way we could track them down?"

Yelena had forgotten just how perfectly Gabriel could speak Russian until she met up with him again. And each time he spoke it she was reminded of another place and time the blonde haired hero couldn’t remember and she couldn’t forget. She just hoped she did a good job of hiding her real emotions to him when ever he started speaking fluently in her native language to her. She would carry on conversations with him in Russian but inevitably she would revert back to English. Mostly the language was used to communicate with each other when they were in the thick of things so no one would know what they were talking about.

Still, she chuckled softly and nodded at his referece to the old proverb. Indeed…..there were many things in the woods that one could be afraid of and if you were that afraid of them, then the woods was no place for you. But……if you were willing to take the risk and venture out, you found a world unlike any other that you would never have been able to see if you stayed locked up all the time.

As Gabriel dialed the number of first Bug then John only to have the recorded, drone like computer voice state the number was no longer in service, Yelena let out the breath she’d been holding and felt as though she were deflating. Like a balloon that lost the air that kept it blown up.

Hearing the sadness that etched Gabriel’s voice made Yelena’s heart sink and she reached out to touch his large hand only to stop just shy of actually making contact with him and let her hand rest on the table so close but still yet so far from his fingers. She tried to offer him a smile of encouragement but she could see in the soft glow of his eyes she wasn’t fooling him in the least.

”Maybe they get new ones but not know how to let us know, hm?”


In a government building housing Riggs Act Enforcement Agents an alarm was alerting the agents on duty to something that had just occurred. As the agent began to decipher the alarm and determine if the alarm was ligit or not, a supervisor walked over to look over the shoulder of the agent. Within seconds Gabriel’s picture was plastered all over the screen and the words “WANTED” ad “EXTREMELY DANGEROUS” flashed in an angry, bold, red color. Immediately a GPS system traced the signal of the phone and flashed an address on the screen along with satellite imagery of what the church looked like.

The supervisor picked up the phone and dialed a number. As soon as the voice on the other end picked up the supervisor relayed the order.

“Gabriel Anchorage has been located. Gather your team and prepare to deploy. Coordinates are being sent to your vehicles right now. Be on the road in ten. Use extreme caution as the subject is extremely dangerous. Take him dead or alive. At this point, we really don’t care. Just get him off the streets.”

”Roger, copy”

The phone was hung up and the man turned barking out orders.

”Let’s move out! Meta has been located and coordinates have been sent! Extremely hostile! Bring him in any way you can!”

Immediately a team of highly trained agents scrambled to get their gear on and pile into a string of vehicles all heavily fortified for extremely hostile situations. As the agents prepared their weapons inside the vehicles and made one final check of their gear, the drivers and front seat passengers were barreling down the streets of New York headed for a certain church and an unsuspecting Gabriel and Yelena………

Two vans packed full of R.A.I.D. troopers driven by supervisors in suits raced towards the old church. The tactics they used had changed, they were learning stealth and subtlety, the two vans full of agents looked like two local plumbing contractor vans. The vans slowed down as they neared the church. The vehicles drove slowly up the long driveway to the old Cathedral. In each van was 1 supervising agent and 8 troopers in full body armor. The troopers carried a variety of weapons, some were armed with new phase weapons that fired energy charges that acted as a high powered taser, some carried large weapons that fired a chemical foam meant to subdue metas, others had full automatic weapons all of them were issued a V baton. The vans pulled into the modest parking lot n front of the old church. A federal agent in denim coveralls and a t shirt exited one of the white vans and walked calmly to the church.

The blond haired agent walked to the side door that lead to the offices of the pastor and rang the buzzer. An older woman answered the door.

"Hi, I'm from two brothers plumbing, we understand you have a water main leak." The agent said looking at his phony clipboard.

"I don't think so, but I wasn't here yesterday." The older woman said.

"Gosh, you'd think someone would leave me a note or something. I volunteer here a few days a week and no one told me about this..." She said.

"I'd be happy to check it out.. no charge." The blond man responded.

"I suppose that would be fine." The woman said sweetly.

"I just need to know where your main shut off is, is there a mech room in this old building?" The agent asked.

"Sure I'll show you." The older woman walked down a short hall and to a small set of stairs leading down to the basement level. She lead him to a small room that housed the main power panel, water shut off and a large sewer clean out. The agent walked quickly to the power panel and shut off the main switch. The old church went dark and quiet.

"What are you doing?" The older woman asked. The agent grabbed her at her elbow and quickly lead her back up the stairs and out of the church. The blond man was shouting into his hidden radio as he walked. "Deploy! Deploy!" He shouted as he rushed out of the church dragging the old woman along.

The two vans with the phony colorful logos burst open out in front of the church. Sixteen troopers rushed in formation through the front doors of the building, the supervisors stayed out front.

"That went well." The supervisor in a dark gray suit said to the man in the coveralls.

"We should have Anchorage in custody soon." The blond agent said with a grin.

The blond man spoke into his radio once again. "Air support, do you have the scene?"

"Roger, we are in the air and weapons free." A voice on the radio responded.

The troopers moved into the church slowly and quickly checked each office and moved towards the narrow stairs that led to the bell tower. In the sky far above the church a blacked out unmanned drone was descending to an appropriate altitude for weapons deployment.

"The pastor is gonna be real sore with me when comes back from his lunch..." The old lady sighed as she stood near the two agents in the parking lot.

Gabriel put on his best smile, but, it never quite reached those glowing eyes of his. He appreciated Yelena's effort to make him feel better, more than she probably knew. It had been a long, lonely time for Gabriel these days. Having Yelena here was infinitely better, but, the fact that they couldn't find people they'd been through life and death with? Well, that was still painful.

"Maybe. I suppose that if we're going to find them, we will." He shrugged a bit. "At least I've got you, hm?" He flashed another smile, before leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

Sipping his water, but, wanting something else, he settled in and tried to relax. The gash on his side stung like hell, and he was in the midst of deciding between a drink, a shower, or bed when the lights went out. As darkness fell, he burst up from that simple chair, sending the remainder of his water bottle spilling onto the floor. Those vivid sky blue orbs narrowed to slits, their intensity cutting through the inky blackness.

"Yelena?"

He spoke while on the move, heading for the small window in the belltower that faced the street. He peered outward just in time to see the agents bursting from their fake plumbing vans. He barked a curse, before stepping briskly away from the window. Holding his hand outward at chest height, he called that internal light of his outward, setting his hand ablaze with that brilliant white flare, but controlled it just enough so that he could see Yelena and she could see him.

"Next time I have a brilliant idea like that, please, put me out of my misery?" He offered a wry smirk, before crossing over to that low trunk of his and dragging it over to block the door to the stairs. It wasn't much, but every second counted. He cast his gaze to the door that led out to the roof of the Church, then looked back to Yelena. "Fight or flight?"

Gabriel knew that the two of them could hold their own if she wanted to stand and fight, but, he also knew that they were both a bit banged up. Plus, it didn't seem like these guys were playing anymore. He cut his gaze back over to the door, glowing hand at the ready, awaiting Yelena's response.

Bug woke with a snap and stood quickly, almost expecting to immediately be in the thick of something based on the tone of John's voice. There was no noise, only the smell of bacon, eggs, coffee and grease. He looked around curiously and then walked into the front of the shop, John was fuming and by the look on his face would crack the skull of anyone or anything that even looked at him funny.

Bug walked over and looked at him curiously, without a word John handed him the car and then made a thumb gesture to the back of the shop. Bug cocked his head and then looked at the card as he walked to the back courtyard. He immediately noticed that the car was gone, but the gate was closed, it had been stolen. He shook his head and knew that if someone was trying to get his attention they had, and in about the worst way they could, if there was only one thing on this planet that John cared for it was that car.

Bug walked back in and grabbed several pieces of bacon as he made his way back to the front of the shop. John was winding up his leg and threw a large sweatshirt to Bug. On the front it had a Denver Broncos logo and looked like it had been drug behind the teams bus on their last away game. He put it on knowing why John had given it to him. John helped him quickly tuck the tentacle like hairs on Bug's head into the back of the sweatshirt and Bug then flicked the hood up so it covered his forehead. He looked up at John and nodded. He had know idea where they were going, or how they were getting there, but he knew why, and he would follow John anywhere, Bug was as loyal to the big man as any person could ever be.

John forcefully opened the door and closed it as Bug came through. He locked up the shop and Bug looked up at him, waiting for his friend to lead the way.

John and Bug moved swiftly from the house to the shop. John's employee had just entered the shop and was punching the time clock when John and Bug came through.

"Hey Nicky, I'm not gonna be around much today. Finish the work you started yesterday and go ahead and lock up if you don't see me later." John said.

"Everything okay boss?" The young man asked with a look of concern.

"Sure kid, I gotta... run some errands..." John said as he and bug left the shop and walked back to the shed where Gladys had been stolen. John yanked the shed doors open and reached inside and dragged out something covered in an old tarp. John pulled the dusty tarp from the object to reveal an old junky motorcycle with a dinged up sidecar attached to it. John straddled the old bike and kicked the starter over. The old bike coughed and sputtered as it started. John twisted the throttle and after a few seconds the old bike was purring. John cranked the gas as Bug jumped into the old sidecar. The motorcycle kicked up dirt and gravel as john steered past the shop again and to the chain link gate on the street side of the building.

Nicky saw them coming and ran ahead to open the gate as they rumbled over the gravel driveway. The kid got the gate open just as the bike flew past and closed it as John and Bug blasted into the street. Nicky and Bug briefly locked looks as the motorcycle passed the gate. Bug was sure he could read the young mechanic's lips as he wondered who the teenage passenger in the Broncos Hoodie was on John's bike. "What the Fu...?" Nicky mouthed as the bike screeched away from the shop and towards downtown.

"Bug, the asshole in the fancy suit that stopped by the shop last night...It's the same douche bag who left the card. He took Gladys and when I'm done with him he's gonna want to crawl back up inside his momma and beg to never be born."
And with that John gunned the throttle and the old bike clattered through traffic leaving a cloud of blue/gray smoke as they drove.

Bug looked behind them as they drove, the old machine was really smoking.
"Never got around to doing the ring job on this thing, it's on my 'to do' list..." John barked as they drove on.

John took a corner at a good speed and the rusty sidecar pulled away from the bike and threatened to separate. John reached out and pulled the sidecar back into position and squeezed the metal, pinching it against the body of the motorcycle with his mechanical hand.
"Fix that when we get back..." John said as he watched road ahead of he and Bug.

Yelena chuckled softly and nodded her head.

”Da….you have me but I n……”

Anything she was about to say died as the room was suddenly plunged into pitch blackness. Had it not been for Gabriel’s glowing eyes she wouldn’t have been able to even see where he was. As he quickly stood and quietly spoke her name, Yelena got to her feet and moved closer to her friend and spoke in a whisper to him and moved quietly across the floor with him to look out that same window.

”Here….”

This was the last thing Yelena wanted to face tonight. They’d barely gotten away from the last fray they got into and were still regaining strength from that. How the hell were they going to handle all of these armored and, from what she could see in those brief seconds, loaded for bear?

As Gabriel asked her if it was fight or flight, she glanced towards where she knew the door to the bell tower was then back to her friend before glancing out the window again then back to Gabriel. Time was not a luxury for them right now and considering the way things were going for the metas in New York lately, Yelena had to make the decision now.

There was something just then that told her their other friends were very much alive and they needed to somehow find them. But this decision meant she would have to make contact with Gabriel once more, if even for a short time. She had to push her inhibitions aside and do what needed to be done in order to insure they had at least SOME chance. As the sound of movement up the narrow stairs that lead to the bell tower could start to be heard, she looked over at Gabriel and nodded then held her hand out.

”Flight….we live to find Bug and John.”

As the two of them sped out the gate and down the street Bug caught the eyes of the young mechanic. He knew that John had hired someone recently but that was the first time he had seen him. He found it amusing that the guy was so perplexed. When Bug heard who had stolen the car he simply nodded. John could tell by the look in the small alien’s eyes that he was behind him 100% in going with him. “Sound likes he wants a fightin’ with us.”
As John began to drive Bug was holding the sidecar with white knuckles. As the side car began to separate he was just beginning to reach for the motorcycle when John grabbed it and pulled it back in. As he said he would fix it when they got back Bug glared at him.

They finally arrived at their destination and Bug was all too happy to get out of the sidecar. As he practically jumped out the impressions of where his hands were holding the metal were bent to the shape of his fingers. He side stepped and was looking at the motorcycle the way he tended to look at bad guys before he pounded them to a pulp when he snapped back to reality at the sound of John’s heavy metal mech leg clunking against the sidewalk. Bug followed John’s gaze to the building beside them, a large sign hung on the wall beside the door that said “Simon Vega- Consultant” in the exact same color and style of lettering that was on the card. Bug walked up and cupped his hand over his eyes as he looked through the dark window, it was very early in the morning still and it didn’t appear that anyone was inside, he turned and looked at John, waiting for the big man’s next move.

Gabriel's eyes slid back to the door that led to the staircase. Like Yelena, he could hear the thudding of heavy boots making their way up the vintage wooden steps. There was a bookcase loaded for bear beside the door, as well as the trunk that Gabriel had placed in front of it. As soon as Yelena made her decision, Gabriel nodded. He was no stranger to wading into losing battles and just throwing fists, but, this was going to be far more difficult than your standard one-sided battle. For one, they were hurt. For another, they were in a tiny room that wouldn't give either of them the area they needed to fight effectively.

"Flight it is then. Cover your eyes for this one." Gabriel swung that hand with that white glow forward, aiming for the bookcase.

With another flash of brilliance, Gabriel sent a beam of energy hurtling into the lower corner of the bookcase that was closest to the door. When energy met wood, it resulted in a secondary flash, the odor of burning wood, and a loud crash as the heavy bookcase with its large number of books fell across the door. The plus side of Gabriel's energy was the fact that it mimicked the results of an intense fire without the actual flame, so, they didn't have to worry about the church going up in flames. At least, not by he and Yelena's hands, they couldn't vouch for these moronic agents.

Gabriel glanced to Yelena with a nod, before briskly walking across the small room to the door leading out to the rooftop. When he was two or three paces from the old wooden door, he lowered his shoulder and drove it into its center. The old wood groaned, cracked, then popped open, swinging to hit the exterior wall with a sharp clap. He stepped out into the warm night air and quickly moved to the edge of the roof, looking down over the street and any remaining agents that hung back.

He turned back to Yelena then, and, much like the good old Gabriel, flashed a grin, even in this time of crisis. He held out his hand, no glow this time, just his normal, slightly warmer than average flesh. Tendrils of light flared up and grew from his shoulder blades, slowly twisting and combining into that thirteen foot wingspan of his.

"Trust me?" He glanced down again briefly, before looking back to Yelena and offering a shrug. "May I have this dance?"

You didn’t need to tell Yelena twice. Covering her eyes to avoid being blinded by the intense light from Gabriel’s powers, she turned in the opposite direction to also help protect her eyes. As she heard the crashing book case and books she knew the immediate danger from Gabriel was over with and she opened her eyes to glance around the small room. There was no time to destroy any evidence that may have been there to indicate she was back in town so they would have to leave taking the chance.

Oh well, worse things have happened.

As Gabriel crashed through the door that led to the rooftop, Yelena picked up twin Glocks, quickly checked them for ammo then tucked them away for safe keeping. She knew Gabriel didn’t like the weapons but she knew he would understand why she carried them. Like him, she didn’t like to hurt anyone but when push came to shove, she would do whatever was necessary to save Gabriel and herself.

She could hear shouting now outside the door and knew they were officially out of time. When she glanced at Gabriel and he was giving her one of his most disarming grins and asking if she trusted him, she glanced at the extended hand he offered then at the way the light was forming his wings. Without a second thought, Yelena sprinted the last few feet and literally leapt at Gabriel. The physical contact was uncomfortable to her but she pushed that aside knowing it had to be this way.

”I’ve always thought Tango was good dance to learn.”

As she felt Gabriel’s muscles flex followed quickly by the rush of air all around them, Yelena peered over Gabriel’s shoulders to see the bell tower getting further and further away. Unfortunately, the sound of a growl from Gabriel brought her attention elsewhere and she saw what his displeasure was caused by. She could see the twinkling marker lights of a black helicopter heading right for them. They brought out everything for this raid.

As Gabriel began to take evasive maneuvers, Yelena looked around the immediate area then looked at the copter beginning to swing around again. Yelling at Gabriel over the noise of the air rushing past and now the sound of chopper blades and soon to be rapid machine gun fire, Yelena asked Gabriel to do something she knew he wouldn’t necessarily like.

”Get close enough so I can get into side door helicopter!”

When she heard him yell “WHAT?!” at the top of his lungs, she simply answered his question with a question he asked her not ten minutes earlier using his own voice.

”Trust me?”

The platoon of R.A.I.D. troopers had reached the door to the bell tower, they kicked and shouldered at the door but it would not give way. The armored agents wasted no time, one pulled a small device from his tactical vest and stuck it to the thick wood door. The trooper depressed a button in the center of the small charge and in an instant the door was reduced to splinters. The agents pushed though the shattered door and clambered over the fallen bookcase and heavy trunk.

"Two targets inside!" One agent shouted into his radio.
"Take 'em both." Was the response.
The agents closest to the roof access panel swung their foam cannons and began to spray them all around Yelena and Gabriel. The foam began to expand very quickly Several other agents pulled their V batons from their leg holsters, the batons crackled and hummed. The foam crept and crawled across the floor and made it's way up the wall around the open panel. The agents did their best to spread out in the small room positioning themselves in hope that the foam would trap Gabriel and Yelena leaving them open for a good old fashioned baton beating.

4 troopers rushed at Gabriel and Yelena as they attempted their escape.
"If you don't fight, we won't fight!" One trooper said as he rushed at them, doing his best to avoid the ever expanding sticky foam.

"Your presence here is is unlawful, you will be taken into custody and processed." Another added as he gripped his long black V baton.

A number of the agents quickly left the small room and hustled back downstairs as the fugitives stepped outside into the air.

"Bring in the bird." A trooper demanded into his radio as the helicopter approached.

"Already here." The pilot said with confidence.

Fyedka fanned out his sweat-drenched shirt as he slipped out the back door from the smoky kitchen into the crisp New York air. The smell of burgers and grease wafted out from his own body and assaulted his senses, but as he always reminded himself, there was a time when he'd smelled much worse. The very fact that he had a job was always something he'd be grateful for-- and eternally grateful to the big guy with the metal limbs. When everything went crazy back in Chicago, it had been John McManus who offered him protection in their trip out west. Still, Fyedka knew he was wanted and didn't want to attach himself too much to John's name for his own protection-- despite what the mechanic had to say about it. In the end, he won the argument when he managed to convince the big guy that Fyedka would be safer hiding in a big city with a dense Russian population than he would be possibly being the only one with a distinctly Slovak name in a rural area like wherever they were heading. In the end, John let him go with a little something in his pockets to help him get started in his new life in New York.

It had been a short while now since Shadow had been just Fyedka Romanov, lowly line cook at the 24-hour diner. The place was decent, and his boss, unaware of his . . . differences . . . treated him well. There was even the extra little perk of the hot little comrade who waitressed there. It was nice to have someone who spoke his language again and it didn't hurt that she was certainly easy on the eyes. As Fyedka started back to his tiny studio apartment in the dodgy area of town, he wondered where Yelena had been the past few days. The diner had been busy as usual and Fyedka was never really enough of a social butterfly to ask about her whereabouts. That was where their conversations always seemed to stay simple and small: While they both seemed to appreciate having one of their own around, when it came down to it, Fyedka and Yelena were lone creatures in the end.

A huge yawn choked Fyedka's insides and he felt about ready to fall over. Fourteen hours was a long time to spend in a high kitchen flipping burgers and deep-frying potatoes. But even the crappiest of apartments cost a small fortune in the city and Fyedka was more than a little reluctant for a long list of reasons to contact John again. He wasn't one to ask for help and he certainly didn't want to risk linking himself further to the man to whom he owed a great deal of his current freedom. Still, the pay wasn't great and the landlord was unforgiving and Fyedka found himself wondering how long the electric company would tolerate his forgoing their payment to his rent.

As he passed the old church, though, his concerns of hot water and fatigue melted away to ice cold fear. Plumbing vans stood with doors open but the men standing by them were wearing suits far beyond the quality he'd ever seen on any plumber. But that wasn't what caught his attention. What made his green eyes go wide and his handsome countenance go waxy pale was the light hovering in the sky above the church. Walking quickly but trying to stay casual, Shadow crossed the street and ducked int to the darkness around a building and peered up at the church's roof. It was a live with movement. Black-suited figures rushed around the rooftop in sharp contrast to the afternoon sky while two figures held together drifted away from them. One of them apparently being carried by wings of light.

Despite his current profession, Fyedka was no idiot. He put two and two together and his heart seemed torn between skipping beats and making up the time in between them. His breathing became quick and shallow but all but stopped when he finally began to discern the features of the figures that were moving through the air towards the great, black helicopter.

... but it couldn't be . . . could it? What were the chances that there was more than one meta working at the same diner...?

Eventually the features of the other one came to him as well and he remembered seeing him in newspapers. It had to be the city's most recent favorite scapegoat, the dangerous criminal they'd all been talking about. Fyedka had always been skeptical of that, but of course he'd never let these feelings on. Hell, there were official statements and documents floating around at that moment that pegged himself a murderer. Still, there he was, floating around with Yelena in his arms... but she didn't seem to be struggling, so that had to at least mean...

He had to act. Moving casually along the street, Fyedka waited until the people by the vans were back to devoting all of their attention to the rooftop and then darted into the shadowy ally beside the church. Crouching beside a Dumpster, Fyedka took note of the dark shadows and began to pull with his mind. The darkness reflecting from the sides of the church began to warp and shift, melting together like some amorphous creature reforming after being crushed. Fyedka peeked over at the men by the vans to make sure they hadn't moved before sending the dark mass crawling up the side of the building like some kind of black amoeba. The young man squinted against the blue sky and focused on the dark blurs still moving around the rooftop. He was at a difficult angle, but he managed to focus and as the shadows reached them, they rose up and curled over the edge like a wave. Fyedka snapped both of his wrists out in a flicking motion and the shadows followed suit. Commotion exploded in its wake as men were thrown screaming into the air. A lucky few managed to land hard on the sharp edges lining the rooftop while the rest plunged to their probable deaths on the other side of the church.

Once the men were out of sight, at least from his sharp angle, Fyedka immediately let the shadows drop and dashed into the tight area between the Dumpster and the wall and went very still. Squeezing his body in behind the heavy metal box, Fyedka thanked himself not for the first time for his choices of activities in the days before his life exploded into chaos. Years of gymnastics, running, and ballet had made his body thin, lithe, and malleable which gave him an edge in the constant life-or-death game of hide-and-seek he was beginning to think he would never escape.

Craning his neck and straining his eyes, Fyedka turned his attention as far up as he could and watched the strange flying figures while keeping another eye out for movement on the rooftop.