The Caretaker Reborn - chapter 2: The Chase

All the prisoners were led outside into the yard for the single hour they’d be allowed to see the sky for that day. And the sky was the only real attraction; even if they could see over the walls, the prison was in a dingy, almost-abandoned part of the city, and the surrounding streets would probably be a less attractive sight than the yard itself.
Most of the prisoners congregated around the benches and tables in the middle of the yard, or involved themselves in the guard-conducted exercise, but the man everyone just called the Brute just kept to a corner of his own. He stood facing the wall, his ball-and-chain dragging behind him.
The guards all watched him from the corner of their eyes, but only Gil actually approached, brushing his hair back into its perpetual neatness as he went. He didn’t get why all the others acted so afraid of him. Yes, he’d caught whispers of a few little horror stories about that prisoner, but he’d never had any trouble with him, or any other prisoner. “Hey, get away from there.” He was ignored, so he raised his gun and his voice. “Hey!”
The Brute turned his scowl toward Gil, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. All he was aware of for that moment was the Brute’s face. His light hair, buzzed until he was almost bald-headed; the eyes, just barely light enough a brown to be distinguished from the pupil; the scar, forcing the skin from the left edge of his mouth up to his cheekbone to wrinkle inward; the perpetual grimace, now turned on Gil.
Then, the world decided to make up for lost time. Gil was only aware of the sound of metal snapping, the winding impact of a steel ball into his chest, the thud of his back into the ground, and then the sky. Just as he drifted out of consciousness, a shadow crossed over his face. The Brute leapt clean over the wall, and was gone before any of the other guards could aim a single shot.
----
Eric Knight stood under a dingy awning across the street from the prison wall. He was clothed all in white, well-fitted clothing, its cleanness a sharp contrast to the grime of the street surrounding him. His face remained calmly stoic, each expression measured. His eyes were covered by a simple white blindfold, obscured to avoid detracting from his higher senses, and his hair, always cut short and neat, was light blonde.
He followed the Brute’s arc through the air, and was already giving chase before he hit the ground. Eric moved lightly, his feet skipping off the pavement with almost no sound or exertion, but still enough speed to keep him not far behind the Brute, whose thundering footfalls each threw him forward by yards.
Careful not to exert himself enough to actually catch up, Eric reached out and latched his mind onto the Brute’s. The man deserved his name; his thoughts were animalistic in their force, but mainly in their simplicity, flowing only in images and impulses. Despite this sheer vigour, his mind was also weak enough for Eric to probe without notice or resistance.
He eased back, and went through the familiar processing of ordering his thoughts without even slowing the pursuit. Finally, he sent the first thought across the distance, far from both men. ‘Brother.’
If he hadn’t been expecting it, he could easily have dismissed the feel of the reply as his own. ‘Yes, Eric?’ It wasn’t in Dominic’s voice, even insomuch as a thought could be considered as having a voice.
By pure reflex, Eric hurdled over a dumpster left in the middle of the sidewalk. ‘She was right. The Brute escaped, just as foreseen. I’m pursuing now.’
Dominic’s next response had a warm, triumphant impression to it. ‘Good. Stay close, but not too close. We need him somewhere more private before we catch him. And remember, stay out of sight. No sense cluing the FGA into our activity too early.’
‘Of course.’ Eric leapt, kicked off a streetlight, and landed on one of the low roofs in the area. Far enough to keep from being noticed unless those down on the street were actively looking, still easily close enough to keep the Brute in ‘sight’. ‘Another thing. I probed, and his mind is just as open as you anticipated. He’ll be an easy target.’
‘Perfect.’
----
Mayes’ office seemed almost completely different during the day. The window behind the desk was curtained, so much of the room was kept dim, and Mayes’ chair was kept in silhouette.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Mayes started speaking as soon as Katy was through the door, though he didn’t actually look at her just yet. “They force us to close down our prisons, give up our prisoners, and hand the whole thing over. Then, when someone inevitably escapes, they act like it’s our fault.”
Katy was already bored, and showing it on her face, when she stood to attention. “What’s this about, sir?” She at least tried to keep it out of her tone.
He finally looked up at her, and at Pylon beside her, who was being as quiet as usual. Mayes pushed the file across to their end of the desk. Tony’s paperwork was already gone, so it only had to share space with Mayes’ comm. Console. “The Brute. He escape from prison two hours ago. Since he’s Gifted, it’s our job to bring him back in. That file will have all the details you need.”
Katy managed to force a laugh as she read through the document. “This is a joke, right? I mean, it’s the Brute. Shouldn’t Jenny—”
Mayes’ glare cut her off before he even interrupted. “Agent Nails is visiting her partner in hospital today, Blade. I’ll only call her in if you two can’t handle the mission. Are you going to admit to that? Or are you going to do the job?”
Katy scowled at him, her eyes like icicle knives. “Of course we can do it.”
Mayes gave a firm nod before either had a chance to say anything more. “Then do it.”
----
The diner’s big sliding door was open all the way, letting the wind in along with the sun. It gleamed off the black plastic surface of every one of the square tables, each one freshly wiped and empty of everything but the condiments and table numbers. The counter between the dining area and the narrow kitchen shone just as bright, and even the stone-patterned linoleum floor looked recently-swept.
Tony cast his shadow across the diner as he came in. The place was practically empty – too late for breakfast, too early for lunch. Only the table nearest the counter had anyone sitting, and it only had two people.
Sitting farther away, and thus with his face more visible, was the chef, Rico. His brown hair was still mussed from the black skullcap he’d taken off and put on the table. His eyebrows were big and bushy above hazel eyes, his noses had a slight Roman bump to it, and his little soul-patch beard was still growing. He was wearing the usual black polo shirt, loose-strapped white apron, black slacks, and brown boots, and he was grinning and laughing along with something the woman sitting with him had just said. Noticing Tony’s entry, he gave a nod of greeting. The humour was still in his voice when he said, “Hey, Tony. Here for the usual? It’s where I usually put it.”
The woman twisted around in her seat to look behind her. “Tony?” The familiar voice gave him pause; he hadn’t recognised Tara in her civilian clothes. She was wearing no makeup, a grey t-shirt that fit close enough he could see the outline of her bra straps from behind, a pair of Capri-length black jeans with the same fit, and a pair of blue sneakers. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“Apparently not.” Tony gave her a smile of greeting as he slid around to the staff fridge in the kitchen. Toward the back of the bottom shelf was a small bottle of caffeinated soda, opened just as the diner was opening that morning to give the fizz time to die. “Exempt after yesterday.”
Tara sighed, rolled her eyes, and flicked herself on the forehead. “Of course you would be. How did that not occur to me?” Her face brightened considerably after she admonished herself, and she turned to Rico. “Sorry, Rico, but it looks like I’m going to be heading off a bit earlier than expected.”
Rico shrugged, still smiling as he pushed himself back to his feet. “Not a problem. I should start getting ready for the lunch rush anyway…” He wrinkled his nose as he glanced out the door. “…and hoping that the others get back from break in time.”
Tony relished the taste of his first sip as he came back out. A long moment passed before he actually swallowed and spoke again, though he turned his curious eyes on Tara before he asked, “Taking me somewhere?” His voice was measured. Neither flat nor monotone, but still not giving away any of the sentiment behind the words.
Tara grinned at him with a cross between pride and excitement. “The Major wanted you introduced to someone. I’m taking you to meet Katrina Mesmer.” When Tony actually paused for a moment, she gave a triumphant nod. “Yes, that one.”
He stayed quiet as he took the money out to leave on the counter – he almost always used exact change, and the only time he didn’t was when he was breaking a note so he could get exact change for later. For a while, he mulled it over in his head, trying to figure out how nervous or excited or whatever else he should be, what he should expect. He’d been told more about Katrina than about any of the others, but the two he’d met already had changed considerably over the past five months, and if any of the people from that time had reason to change, it was her. Ultimately, he decided to just go in with no assumptions. “Lead the way.”
She slid from her seat and pushed it back into the table with the same motion. “You could at least try to sound excited, you know. You’re meeting a Rebellion celebrity.” Though she managed the exasperated voice well enough, her pout looked far more teasing than actually upset. “Catch you next time, Rico.” She got up on tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek, then spun on the ball of her foot to head for the door.
Tony offered a nod, and a wave from his free hand. “Bye.” He followed her out the door and toward a deep blue sedan, parked to drive out forwards, and he paused when they stopped to stand in front of it. “Nails said you couldn’t drive.”
Tara jingled the keys and flashed him a playful wink. “Not on my own, but Pylon can drive like you wouldn’t believe.” After twirling the ring around her finger one more time, she slid a key into the door. “I’ll unlock it from inside.”
He did his best to mask his reluctance as he climbed into the car, locking the door behind him and buckling himself in without looking away from Tara. “Pylon isn’t here.”
“He doesn’t have to be.” She put the keys into the ignition, and turned away to look out the windscreen. A dreamy look passed over her face. “Let me just say that if we’re not close enough physically, I can substitute the other kind.”
Tony faced forward without saying a word. He didn’t really have anything to say to that.
She glanced at him, just out of the corner of her eye to keep from looking away from the road for too long. She seemed more curious than anything. “So… are you excited? Because I know I am. Out of everyone from the Rebellion, Katrina’s always been the one I was most interested in meeting.”
He shrugged one shoulder, looking dead ahead. “Save my reaction until I get there.”
----
“We know where he started from, and we know where he’s going.” Katy leaned far back into her car seat, buckled in as tight as she could be – and with two belts. She was quite familiar with Pylon’s driving. “All we have to do is get in his way.”
Through the windshield in front of her, the car’s low nose was barely visible. The front of the car sloped gently upward into a top low enough that the two seats had to be tilted backward, which was just as well. All the decoration, from the paintjob to the upholstery, fit Pylon’s favourite colours – black and electric blue. Even with all the times she’d seen the dashboard, Katy never got used to how blank her end was, and how packed with gauges and gadgets Pylon’s was; there was even a built-in GPS unit.
Pylon keyed the ignition, and the electric hum started up. “If we really feel like getting in the way of… someone like him.” His voice turned a little distant as he furrowed his brow, staring into the dashboard. The hum intensified.
Katy braced herself. The car was already doing at least seventy miles per hour as soon as it left the parking space, and the force slammed her backward. “We don’t… really have a choice.”
Pylon’s manoeuvring was deft, but still unnecessarily close, weaving from side to side to find his way through unoccupied lanes.. “If you say so.” He took a moment out to squeeze her thigh. “Not like it’ll actually be a problem. I mean, the two of us? We still haven’t met something we can’t handle.”
Katy swatted the hand away. Her voice was a bit choked by the G-forces when she laughed to herself. “We still need a plan of attack. You know I hate it when we go in Gifts blazing and brains not.”
Pylon shrugged to himself, apparently unfazed. “We’ll figure something out.” He paused for a moment. “How about this. I drop you off just a little bit before we catch up to him, and you can get him from one side, while I drive along to the other?” He patted the dashboard, a proud smirk on his face. “This thing’ll give me all the electricity I need.”
The car moved out of the affluent neighbourhoods that surrounded the FGA with reckless speed, its heading set in the broken-down parts of the city that were still between the Brute and his destination.
----
‘I’ve already missed four openings, brother. How much longer must I play this game of cat and mouse?’ He could feel the frustration in Eric’s thought, and wondered briefly if his brother even could wait as long as he needed to.
Dominic Knight leaned into the back seat of his car, directing the movements of his driver without a single spoken word. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut almost buzz short, with high widow’s-peaks, and his charcoal-grey eyes were walled away by thick circular spectacles. His nose had a slight hook to it, and his mouth always wore a bored half-sneer. In one hand he held a round-bottomed cup, half-emptied of simple water, and on his body he wore an needlessly elegant black-and-red suit. ‘As long as necessary, brother. Subduing him would be pointless if I’m not there to complete the task; he could recover from any beating you can give him within moments, and be off again. Don’t worry, I’m almost there.’
He detected a hint of hesitation from the driver as they went into the slums. Vague images passed through his mind of muggings, carjackings, and worse that he’d come to fear from the place after hearing mere rumours, all of them without base; Dominic could attest that there wasn’t a single other person for miles around. The hesitation was quashed easily enough, replaced by a more assertive thought.
“I hate that you do that.” Lilia’s young, feminine voice seemed to just float over from her end of the seat. She may not have even noticed that she spoke aloud, as she still seemed distracted with the ends of her dress’s long sleeves. Her long, blonde hair was left in an uncontrolled mess, but her bright amber eyes were clear and sharp. The girl didn’t look a day older than her sixteen years. Makeup was nonexistent, and though she wasn’t uncomfortable, she still seemed fidgety in the black Gothic dress she was wearing. The only part of her outfit she was unconcerned with was the pair of old, scuffed sneakers she’d convinced him to let her wear.
Dominic was careful that his voice didn’t betray that he even knew what she meant by what he said. “That I do what?”
Lilia turned her hand over to examine her fingernails, still not actually speaking straight to him. “Control people. Chances are, a few words would have reassured our driver just as much as any amount of mentalist domination. And what you’re planning to do to the Brute…”
“Needs to be done.” He turned to level his steely gaze at her. “This man has hurt countless innocents, all in pursuit of some misguided ideal, and he won’t accept guidance by himself. So, we will have to give it to him in a way which he will accept, regardless of whether he wants it.”
She sniffed and let her hands fall to her lap, head pushing backwards into the cushion of the seat. Her face betrayed a little bit of resentment, but besides that, boredom reigned. “And of course, it doesn’t hurt that the first little foot-soldier you’re going to get is someone who can out-arm-wrestle the FGA’s Agent Nails, right?”
Dominic glared at her, his eyes narrowing. “If you dislike my methods so, why do you work with me? You have the option of leaving at any time, remember.”
Lilia sneered bitterly. “I don’t work with you, I work for you. As soon as I take that ‘option’, you’d take another one for me. Following you mostly of my own will is just easier all around. At least this way, I don’t get dominated.” She looked from her hand to the window. “Unlike our soon-to-be friend the Brute…”
He didn’t look away, though he did refrain from ‘peering’ as close as he usually would. “That’s not all of it.”
She still didn’t actually return the gaze. “Yes. I have my own reasons for what I do. But they’re just that.”
----
Katrina’s apartment building was an upper-middle-class kind of structure. It six levels, and the two on top looked added-on, the bricks there a noticeably lighter shade than the rest. The parking lot was nothing special, being purely black asphalt with the requisite white stripes. It didn’t even have a tree for ornamentation.
The lobby was just as bland; the walls were even painted grey, and the black carpet didn’t have anything more than solid colour. Still, it was at least clean – the carpet had no strains, the walls had no grime, and even the chrome of the elevator doors was shining.
Tara glanced behind her to make sure Tony was still following. He was so quiet, she had to keep on checking. The look on his face wasn’t quite blank anymore – it was more pensive than anything else.
She faced forward long enough to press the elevator button, then looked back to him with inquisitive eyes. “Are you nervous about meeting her?”
Tony shrugged, just watching as the elevator’s light ticked down to the ground level. “Don’t know what to expect.”
Tara flashed him a grin, crossed between excitement and reassurance. “For all I’ve read about her, neither do I. We won’t know what we should have expected until after we’ve already met her. That discovery is half the fun of it.” The elevator opened, and Tara gave a greeting nod to the cleaning man who came out. She then turned her smile back to Tony and took him by the wrist. “Come on.”
Tony almost absent-mindedly took his hand back from her once they were inside, again staring up at the numbered lights.
Tara gave up on getting a response, shrugged, and pressed the button for the level written on the note Mayes gave her. “We’re about to find out. Are you ready?”
He still hadn’t answered moments later when the elevator arrived, and then he fell into silent step beside her, much closer than before. When they reached the door, he was in front, and it was his finger that touched the doorbell.
“Just a minute.” Katrina’s voice was slightly muffled by the door. A moment later, there was the jingling of the chain lock being undone, and t hen the door opened, and Katrina Mesmer stood in front of them. From her long and unkempt black hair to the heel-length hem of her black dress, she looked the part of a grieving widow. Her hair tangled itself into knots many times over before it ended, halfway down her back; her deep blue eyes were rimmed in red; her lightly-frowning lips seems especially lacking with the removal of lipstick, as if they had become used to the decoration. Her dress was very simple, as if it was just the easiest thing to pull on that she could find when she woke up that morning.
When Katrina looked at her, Tara felt a soft tickle across her forehead. It soon passed when she turned her gaze on Tony, where it stayed for a moment. “You must be the ones Major Mayes sent. Come in, then. Sorry about the mess, I tided as best I could on such short notice.” Her voice sounded as bland and tired as her face looked.
Tara frowned and rubbed her forehead as she stepped inside. “That’s suspiciously good for a guess…” Actually meeting the woman was making Tara less star-struck each moment, and the state of her apartment brought her the rest of the way. ‘Mess’ was the only way to describe it: the wastebins were overflowing, and various kinds of litter cluttered the floor, from empty bottles to dirty clothing. The biggest part of it, though, was the collection of books. They were on every available surface, some opened. A few held bookmarks, but they were all so close to the front covers that not one could have held her interest for long.
Tony followed behind her, a big less eagerly than before. His jaw was set, his back straight, and he looked wary as he faced Katrina, keeping silent.
“You know who I am, don’t you?” Katrina said to Tara as she closed the door behind them, but not the latch. She crossed the room, and moved some of the clutter from the sofa to the coffee table next to it. “I could hear your thoughts as soon as I laid eyes on you, and that was enough. Mr Artemicia’s mind, on the other hand…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Tony.
After that pause, she seemed about to finish, but Tara interrupted. “Wait.” He face already felt hot and flushed, anger mixing with embarrassment. “You were listening to what I was thinking?”
Katrina paused. As soon as she turned back to her, Tara could feel the tickling again. “Well, yes. You knew I was a mentalist before coming here—”
“That doesn’t mean I expected you to invade my mind as a matter of course!” Tara threw up a hand to cover her forehead, in case it would help. From what she could tell, it didn’t. “Get out of my mind, right now!”
Katrina looked a bit taken-aback by Tara’s ferocity, and took a step backward. “It’s not like I mean to! It just happens!”
Tara put her hands on her hips. Her forehead still tickled. “You can still mean not to!” By chance, she spied Tony out of the corner of his eye. He looked almost as surprised at her as Katrina did. Seeing him actually show a bit of emotion brought her closer to her senses, so she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to get the rest of the way. “Look, sorry. Just… do what we came here for you to do, and let’s leave it at that.”
Katrina nodded, and seemed to relax a bit, even standing up straight again. “I was about to say.” She turned back to Tony, who stepped back standoffishly. “I look at Tony, and though I know there has to be one, I can barely even sense that a mind is there. It’s like it’s just blank, empty space. I think, if I’m not looking at him, I’d have to know what I was looking for to find him.” She closed her eyes and shook her head to clear her mind, before turning back to Tara. The tickling was there, but softer than before. “That’s all you needed from me, and I’ll contact the Major myself. Don’t worry, you can just be on your way like you’ve been wanting to since you came in.”
Tara blushed at Katrina’s bluntness, but couldn’t argue the point. “Okay, then. Come on, Tony.” Her voice came out a bit weakly, but it was the only part of her that did. Her hand on his shoulder was still just as firm as always.
“Hold.” Tony nodded to Tara, then turned his eyes back to Katrina. “Daniel… would be glad you still miss him. Would miss you, too.”
Katrina stared at him, the shock clear on her face. “You… what do you know about Daniel?” The shock turned to anger. “Who told you?”
Tony paused for just long enough for Tara to notice, a look passing across his face like he’d realised a mistake, just too late. “Long story. Never mind.” He turned toward the door and started striding away.
Tara’s eyebrows raised as she looked from one to the other. She briefly considered asking what they were talking about, but it clicked together for her easily enough. Katrina was still held by surprise when they left the apartment, closing the door behind them.
Tony walked like a man with purpose, and that purpose was to get out of there as soon as possible. He only stopped and looked behind him when he reached the elevator, to check that Tara was still with him.
She was, but she was also having trouble keeping up with him. He may have been smaller, but he was damn good at walking fast. She pressed the elevator button, and the doors opened only a brief moment later. “That was unexpected.”
He just faced forward, peering intently at the gap between the elevator doors. “What?”
She frowned, putting her hands on her hips. “Daniel Hammer and Katrina Mesmer being an item. Katrina spending the last five-and-change months mourning him like a widow. You knowing about it.” She peered close into his face, hoping for a readable reaction. “Exactly how do you know?”
Tony shook his head without looking at her, and started his stride out of the elevator doors as soon as they even began to open. “Don’t ask. Long story.” His voice was blank, but his face held a hint of self-chastisement on it.
“You’re not going to get away from it that easily, Tony.” Tara strode out behind him, and he stayed in front all the way back to the car.
----
Katy glided across the pavement; with a long enough cloak, she would have looked like she was flying. Every movement brought her closer to the Brute’s thundering, but she hadn’t even heard Pylon’s car since they’d split up. She hated to slow her pace, but if Pylon was late to the interception, there wouldn’t be one; there would be Katy, showing up on her own, and getting herself flattened.
Seconds later, she actually caught sight of the Brute. Her heart jumped, and she had to fight down two instincts – the instinct which told her to attack right then, and the instinct which told her to turn her back and run. She’d heard stories about the Brute, but nothing had ever painted the right picture in her mind. Everything about him screamed the word ‘violent’: the violent mess he’d made of his prison jumpsuit; the violent way he pushed off the ground, sundering the ground under his feet; the violent determination, moving only in one straight line down the abandoned streets. And that was just how he looked from the back.
She followed behind him, as far away as she could without losing track. Every time they went down a street, Katy told herself that Pylon would be waiting at the next junction, that his car would swoop in from the side to attack the Brute in front, so she could strike from behind. Eventually, she was right.
As soon as she saw the car, her fighter instincts took over. While Pylon raised his hand and pulled a spark from his car’s electric engine, Katy closed the distance in a split-second and let the momentum carry a roundhouse kick into the back of the Brute’s head. She silently cheered herself: it actually landed!
The Brute reeled with the strike, but only for a few steps. When he recovered and turned to her, all her cheering just stopped. But even in her panic, she dodged the Brute’s first few strikes, and that was all the time Pylon needed to finish feeding energy into his spark, and throw the lightning bolt at the Brute.
The shot missed, but Pylon was already charging another and just seeing that kind of bolt fly past his head was enough to give the Brute some pause. Though the thunder had given her a major headache, Katy still snatched the opportunity to land a few more blows, none of which the Brute even seemed to notice.
Seeing the next bolt charged and ready in Pylon’s hand, the Brute actually attacked. His hand snapped out, too fast to dodge, and he threw Katy by her collar, down the street toward Pylon. To keep from hitting her, he had no choice to let the bolt fade, and then the Brute was gone, up to the rooftops with one jump.
“Dammit!” Pylon hurled a half-charged bolt up there with him, but it was useless. “Blade, go! I’ll catch up!”
She was already moving, running straight up the wall to follow their target. The chase was on.
----
Overmind even handled the quartermaster duties, albeit by linking into a number of monitors, cameras, and the ever-present robot arms. Then again, there was little around headquarters which Overmind didn’t do.
The room had Overmind’s favourite stark steel décor. It was a perfect geometrical square, with a row of benches in the centre, the door back out set into the centre of an otherwise blank wall, a set of monitors and robot arms coming out of the one opposite, one side covered in a set of lockers, and the last opened into a set of small changing rooms.
While Tony stood facing the back of the room and let infra-red sensors take his measurements, Tara sat on one of the benches, her arms crossed against her chest as she glared at him. “Just staying quiet isn’t going to work, you know. I’m not letting this go until you answer me.”
“Please extend your left arm.” Two of the sensors moved into place.
“Left-handed. Be precise.” Tony stretched his arm out the full length, his elbow bending backward just a little bit past normal. “Not the time or place, Tara.” He didn’t face her when he spoke, but the bored note sounded clearly in his voice.
Her foot started tapping. “You know something about the Rebels that you had no way to know. Believe me, if that…” She glared at one of Overmind’s cameras, then again to the back of Terry’s head. “…detail was open to the public, I’d have already known it. And more than that, your skills alone are suspicious. I was willing to give you a free pass before, but now you’ll have to explain at least that.”
The sensors retracted. “Those are all the measurements we need, and Scan has just come in through the front door. Your uniform will be ready by the time you get back. I’ll put it in this locker.” A light next to the handle blinked to call attention to itself.
Tony finally turned around, his whole body facing Tara as he locked eyes with her. “Not. Now.” The implication was clear the whole time, but his slightly-narrowed eyes and irritated tone hit it closer home.
Tara held a finger up to Tony, matching his gaze without even a little bit of flinching. “I’m holding you to it. Now, come on, let’s get this done with.”
Scan was waiting for them down in the basement. Tara had half-expected him to be wearing a dressing gown and a grumpy expression, but he’d cleaned himself up a bit before coming in, even though it was going to be just a few minutes.
“Right.” Scan locked his eyes onto Tony as soon as the elevator doors opened. “Let’s do this already, I have plans for today.” Tara couldn’t help but notice his expression. It was the same as when Harriet ‘checked’ someone’s wounds, or when Katrina had tried to read Tony. It seemed like the face for an extra-sensory Gift was the same for everybody. Tara couldn’t be sure, but she’d bet her own was just the same. Thinking about it would probably screw up her next attempt to read someone’s skills.
Tony’s pose was familiar, too; he held stock-still while Scan scanned him, and his body looked a little too rigid. The look on his face was just as tense and apprehensive as it had been during Katrina’s mentalist efforts.
He didn’t relax at all until Scan’s face went back to normal, and only slightly even then, as Scan’s eyes were still very critical. It took a long time for him to speak. “Done. You’re un-Gifted.” He said it bluntly, with no fanfare or drama.
Tony’s body eased out of tension immediately, or as far as it ever did. It would only be a slight exaggeration to say he looked like a man who’d just tested negative for cancer – as comparatively little as that meant in a world with people like Harriet. He said nothing, and just nodded to Scan.
Tara was distracted by Tony’s odd reaction, and by the time she turned to thank Scan, he was already gone. She watched the blank space for a moment before looking back at Tony. “You really don’t want to be Gifted.” She spoke it like a statement, but the question was clear.
He seemed a little more defensive about it that her other questions. “Personal reasons.”
She held eyes contact. “I’ll hold you to explaining that one, too.”
----
Eric decided it was time to act. His brother would still take some time to catch up, but he couldn’t just eave the Brute to that FGA woman. He already had a lot of distance to cover, but it was nothing he couldn’t manage.
Though the psychokinesis he added to the jump made it look like he floated the gap across the four-lane street, it felt more like he was suspended and carried along by a dozen invisible hooks across his chest and shoulders. Long jumps were always uncomfortable, but the landing was still light, and he could kick off the rooftop after the FGA agent without slowing. She was impressively quick on her feet, almost as much so as Eric himself, but he was already closing the distance. And she was too single-mindedly focused on her own quarry to even notice him.
Katy was becoming less certain of herself, and her footing. Every time the Brute leapt from the edge of a building, he left the ground under his foot broken and unstable. Even with the lightness of her step, Katy always felt it tremble a little under her.
She reached for her sword, at first to comfort herself; her Gift was already something when she was unarmed, but so much more with a sword in her hand. By reflex, she drew it, and held it in both hands to keep it steady while she chased the Brute, looking at her prey in a new light. The sword gave her both confidence, and an idea.
Normally, she wouldn’t use her blade on someone she was only meant to arrest, but the Brute was a special case. He could handle one strike, just to subdue him or slow him a little. Maybe across the backs of the knees. It would make all the difference, assuming her sword could actually cut him – no, she’d make it cut him.
She could only imagine her plan that far. As she was lining up the strike, she reached the edge of the next roof, and felt a hand grab her by the bicep. It was only there for long enough to pull her off-balance, and she only had a brief glimpse of blond hair and a white blindfold before her attacker sailed far past her and left her to fall all the way to the street.
The Brute, for his part, was not as oblivious as he seemed. He knew the Man in White had followed him, though he had only seen him a few times; an animal knew when it was hunted. He hadn’t chosen the rooftop across the street from him by accident.
For as long as the Man in White had stayed away and merely followed, the Brute had been glad to leave him alone. But then the FGA agents had attacked, and now the Man in White was not following him, but chasing. Though he was still free among the rooftops, the Brute already felt like he was being pushed into a corner. He responded the only way he could.
He stopped with his next landing, and all his momentum pushed downward. His feet dug deep into the crumbled rooftop. “Leave me alone!” “He turned and thrust his first forward with all his power.
The Man in White saw the punch coming, and even manoeuvred around it in mid-air. He landed beside the Brute, his feet barely making a sound, and then the fight started. He fared better than the FGA woman, predicting his every strike before it moved. The Brute could even actually feel his attacks.
Especially one last, strange strike – a single knuckle to the Brute’s solar plexus that sent a wave of pain all the way to his fingertips. His mind went white with fury, and he lashed out mindlessly. Those strikes actually connected, and then the Man in White crumpled, winded and pained.
“Leave me alone!” The Brute’s shout was louder this time, and then he bounded away, leaving the Man where he was.
----
Most of what held Eric down was mere shock; his shield had taken the brunt of the Brute’s attack. Dominic must have heard the shouting, though, because Eric felt the touch on his mind. Both stayed silent until the elder brother finished his probe. ‘You idiot. I told you to keep away until the time was right!’
‘I had no choice.’ Eric struggled to his feet. The Brute was still just barely in sight, so Eric took off after him. ‘The FGA almost had him.’ His thoughts were calm, softly sent.
‘If you’d held back, that girl would have been defeated just as easily as you were, and the FGA would not have been alerted to our involvement in this.’ Dominic was less kind with his tone.
Eric had mostly caught up, but he stayed farther behind this time, not even as close as when he’d first followed him. ‘She had her sword drawn and ready, brother. If I hadn’t acted then, the Brute would be in her custody. He is less formidable than we imagined.’
‘He is still formidable enough to best you.’
Eric’s jaw set as he tried to ignore the insult. ‘It was luck that let him win. He attacked without thinking, I had no warning.’
‘No excuses. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Keep close to him until then.’
----
After bouncing a few times on her way down, Katy had landed on a fire escape balcony, halfway down the building. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it still left her hurt – nothing felt broken, but she had bruises in all kinds of places. Most painful were the ones on her right shin, and the back of her left shoulder.
She recovered quickly, but the Brute and the blindfolded man were already out of sight. She groaned in frustration, and after she checked her radio to be sure it was working, started on her way downward. In contrast with the easy sprint up the wall, the way back down was annoying slow. But, her radio was functional, so not all the time was lost. “Pylon, tell me you’re still following him.”
“Of course.” There was a hint of uneasy concern in his voice. “Blade, are you alright? I can come get you.”
“Don’t you dare, I can find my own way. You just play pin-the-tail-on-the-Brute, and his blindfolded friend.” She winced when the impact of landing back on the ground below shot up her injured leg, but kept it out of her voice. “Overmind, are you listening? We need backup.”
“Caretaker and Osmosis are here and mostly ready. Caretaker just got his—”
“Send them.”
----
Overmind had been true to his word; though they couldn’t have been gone more than a few minutes, Tony’s uniform was waiting in the locker when they returned. Tara waited outside the changing room door, leaning back against the wall.
Though the rustling inside sounded like he had some trouble, he still dressed quickly. She didn’t even have enough time to start getting bored. “Done.”
Tara grinned, and pushed off the wall to stand in front of the door. “Good. Now come on out, I want to see you.”
The door opened, and out stepped Tony, in full FGA uniform. The jacket and pants were made of the same synthetic material – smooth, flexible, and strong enough to hold in the armoured inner lining. Both were coloured dark grey, and ‘Caretaker’ was printed in black across the right side of his hest.
“Perfect fit.” was Tony’s only comment, and it was the most accurate one. All FGA uniforms were made to be form-fitting; even with the weight of the armour, it didn’t sag at all, but it wasn’t tight enough to be obstructive. Freedom of movement was a high priority.
Tony looked him over. “Looks good. It suits you.” It was true – Tony was the kind of guy who benefited from something as professional as a uniform – but she was hardly about to start thinking of him as eye candy.
“Thanks.” He brought his arm across his chest, testing the stretch of the sleeve. “Need to adjust.” His shoulders rolled around, but then he went back to neutral position.
Tara cocked her head, and looked him over one more time. She wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t called attention to it, but he looked more like he was trying on a new shirt than wearing form-fitting armour for the first time. He certainly looked a lot more comfortable than Tara ever had. “You look well-adjusted to me already, Tony.”
Tony paused, his face intentionally blank.
Before either of them spoke again, Overmind interrupted, speaking from the monitors as they filled with static that showed an outline of as generic a human face as possible. “Tara, you’ll need to join him in uniform. Pylon and Katy need backup with the Brute, and I’m sending the both you out. Be quick.”
----
For a time, Pylon stayed within sight of the Brute, but the latter was clearly getting more defensive, evasive, and on-edge.
The Brute leapt at an angle while Pylon was going down a long street. He slammed the accelerator down, and the rear wheels skidded for a good few yards when he swerved hard around the next corner. He saw the glare from the man in white first, and followed him along to the Brute.
The pair up above started clashing at almost every rooftop. It made Pylon wince; he could hear the impact of the Brute’s fists all the way down in the street.
Near the next corner, the thud was even louder than normal. The white-clad man was thrown from the rooftop, but only seemed to glide downward. For a brief moment, Pylon was almost entranced by the descent; graceful, like a feather on wind. Though he couldn’t make himself drift back up to the rooftops, the white-clad man made the most of his predicament; once he was closer to the ground, he put his foot out in front of him and accelerated down toward Pylon. He realised what was happening, just a moment after he could have done something about it.
The man in white’s shoe smashed through the windscreen and into Pylon’s chest, leaving him winded. Shards of glass washed over him, but slid harmlessly off his uniform. After the blindfolded man leapt away, the wind was the real problem, blowing into Pylon like a punch to the face.
He recovered form it just in time to find that his car had been knocked off-course, toward a solid-looking building. One foot jammed on the brake while he yanked the steering wheel, and the car swivelled so that the side of the body took the full impact.
With his car still stopped, Pylon looked around. Neither man was anywhere to be seen. He dropped his head into his hand, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I dropped the ball. The Brute and his friend in white are gone.”
----
“It’s all good, Pylon. We’ll find them again.” It had only taken Tara a few moments to get dressed and drag Tony into the fastest car still in the lot. It was an almost exact replica of Pylon’s.
Though she couldn’t augment the engine the same way, she could and did still push it to its limit. The first intersection out from headquarters had a red light, but she ignored it. The swearing from the cab she’d narrowly dodged soon faded into the background. She kept this blatant disregard for road safety laws through the entire trip – one time, she broke at least three at once by swerving into the wrong end of a one-way street, at twice the speed limit, without indicating. It was a fairly narrow street, too; only two lanes. It was a good thing nobody was on the sidewalk, then.
With that combination of speed and recklessness, getting to the industrial district took only slightly longer than it had taken to get changed. This place, unlike the slums, was still used; the factories and warehouses were being phased out, closed down, but were still holding on tight. Also unlike the slums, there wasn’t even an attempt at colour. The buildings and streets of the industrial district always had been and always would be stark and grey.
Tara made a swerving right turn to head north, and eased up on the engine a little. No sense going so fast they flew right past the target. As they went farther in, Katy and Pylon’s red and electric-blue dots joined Tara’s green and Tony’s grey on the GPS unit’s screen. “We’ve arrived, people. Have either of you found him yet?”
Katy responded first. “He’s a little north of my position. I found him, but I can’t tail him in my condition.”
“Don’t worry about it, Blade. We’re here now.” She smirked over to Tony, and hoped he’d get the hint.
He raised his eyebrow at her, though he seemed more curious about her insistence than what she was insisting on. “We’ll take care of this.”
Tara stifled a giggle, and faced back fully forward. One hand muted her radio so she could speak more privately and less professionally. “I don’t know why, but I get a real kick out of that.”
Though they were still a street or so east of Katy, once they got close enough, they didn’t even need to see. The crushing impacts resounded from the rooftops – both the sound of the Brute’s leaps, and of his attacks on the blindfolded man. Having learned from the others’ mistakes, Tara kept her and Tony east of their targets, just close enough to track them by hearing, and quietly followed them.
----
The Brute was getting sick of the long chase. He clashed much more regularly with the Man in White, but however hard the Brute hit him, he kept coming back. The scuffles were far too short, the Brute had broken away far too early the first time he’d confronted the Man in White.
It was time to fix that mistake. The Brute couldn’t just make himself angry, but he knew something that could. He would need to find a place he could back himself into a corner, a place where he couldn’t escape, a place where he had no choice but to fight and keep fighting until the Man in White couldn’t follow him anymore.
Not long after that, the Brute found the perfect place. The multi-level car park was a bit wrecked, with the top few levels collapsed on top. There would be no easy way out through the roof – the only way in or out was the actual ground-level entrance.
The Brute decided it was perfect for the job. After bounding forward by another couple of buildings, he just let himself fall back down to the pavement. The sudden drop would buy him some time to double back and get himself ready, at least.
----
Tara picked up on the Brute’s slipping away a little more readily than the white-clad man, and swerved the car again to follow him a little more closely now that he was on the ground. They were just in time to see him slip into the parking building.
They’d pulled up on the sidewalk and walked over to the entrance before Tara spoke. “What now, then?”
Tony looked uncertainly into the building. The situation itself was worrying enough, but seeing Tony worried made it just slightly worse. “Osmosis, stay here. Keep the other out. Get Pylon and Blade.” He took the first step inside. “I’ll do what I can.”
Tara gave the back of his head an odd look. “Don’t go too far.” She put her back to the entrance, and spent the last little while fidgeting, and looking up at the building in front of her.
The while was only a little one. The white-clad man came drifting down from exactly where Tara was watching. He looked at her like she was good for little or even nothing more than a momentary annoyance – she could practically see those exact words written on his face. He assumed something which looked more like a casual conversation pose than anything combat-related, but she could still feel the threat.
She set her jaw, and tried to get into stance herself. With a little muted shock, she realised that Tony had gone too far; all she had were vague memories of last time, and the little bit of combat training she had of her own. It wouldn’t be enough. It wasn’t even enough to make the guy think she knew what she was doing – which was only fair. She noticed then that he had a blindfold. She was about to get her ass handed to her by a guy wearing a blindfold.
The man’s face went odd for a moment, and if she could see his eyes, Tara thought they’d have a faraway, thoughtful look in them. After that, he approached her a bit more seriously, but it still looked like he was going to toy with her rather than actually take her down. She took a couple of careful steps backward, hoping she could put Tony back in range.
The blindfolded man’s first strike landed as a gentle tap on Tara’s jaw, and she practically jumped backward with shock. From looking at him, he could clearly go faster than he had. Tara hunched forward a little in her almost-stance, holding her breath. When nothing more happened, she tried a few punches herself. The man easily blocked all four, but didn’t bother to retaliate.
After a while of this infuriatingly one-sided fight – she swore it had been several full minutes – Tara saw an odd car pull up on the street behind him. It was an odd kind of car; it had the elegance of a limousine, without nearly as much unnecessary length. Though she caught a glimpse of blonde hair inside, only a tall, thin, bespectacled man actually came out.
He strode over to the two of them with purpose, and watched Tara inquisitively for a good few seconds. After that, he turned to the blindfolded man. “So this is how you’ve been ‘entertaining yourself’ while I was on my way?”
The blindfolded man shrugged, and relaxed completely. He wasn’t even trying to look combat-ready anymore. “You wouldn’t have let me fight the other ones. I had to pass the time somehow, brother.”
Tara flushed hotly at being ignored. When it looked like she had a good opening, she went for it, and swung a long, heavy punch toward the blindfolded one… and her arm stopped in mid-swing. Her whole body stopped, except her neck, which felt compelled to turn to the side and look at the bespectacled one.
He had his hand lifted in the air, and was looking at her, bored. “You haven’t left yet? No matter. Time for you to sleep.”
With the last word, Tara’s entire body felt weak, with every muscle relaxing at once. She pitched forward, but she was unconscious before she even hit the ground.
----
Tony didn’t slow his step, and he even kept his face carefully blank. He wasn’t looking forward to this fight, but there was no reason to delay it. It was going to happen anyway, no matter how slowly he walked.
The Brute was waiting for him – or for someone, anyway – on the third level of the building. When Tony caught up to him, he was surprised at how he looked up close and in person. He looked… brutish had to be the best term. It was in the haggard, animalistic look on his face, the way he hunched forward, the mess he’d made of his clothes. Even the clothes he was wearing played a part – a wrinkled prison jumpsuit, and the twisted remains of an ankle chain.
He’d been watching Tony since he came in. Though he made no move, it was clear that there was no way out of this now. They exchanged no words, and Tony just slipped into his favourite, basic combat stance.
Then the Brute attacked. Tony threw up an arm to block the hammering fist, but it went right through with a wet-sounding crack. The strike on the top of his head left him dazed, and he took a couple of steps backward. The Brute sent out two front punches which Tony actually deflected, but the hook-punch to his side made up for it, and sent him flying across the room so far and fast that he slammed into a wall.
Tony put the hand of his unbroken arm into the ground to hold himself up. He tried to focus on the fight, but the pain from his shattered forearm, his broken ribs, and the strike to his scalp was somewhat… distracting. The blood that trickled down his head and into one eye didn’t help.
The Brute was striding toward him while he struggled to stand, and was upon him as soon as he had his feet. One hand gripped his collar and slammed him into the wall, while the other pounded into his gut, over and over. He tried to exhale with the impacts, but despite himself, it just turned into cries of pain. He thought he felt the wall behind him start to crack.
“Stop.” And the Brute did, almost immediately. He craned his neck, and Tony looked over his shoulder. The eye clear of blood was blurred anyway by pain, and all he could make out of the two that came in was that one had a lot of white, and the other a lot of black.
The Brute released Tony’s collar, and he slid down the wall to fall hard onto the floor. Instinctively, he doubled over his injured stomach, but he still looked up at the unfolding scene. After a few blinks and deep breaths – as much as his ribs made it hurt to breathe deeply – he could actually see again.
The man in the white clothes stepped forward first, into a relaxed-looking combat stance. The Brute swung his entire body around, ready to face him. It looked like another, more evenly-matched fight was about to start.
But it was interrupted before either could throw the first punch. “Enough.” The Brute froze, and the man in the black-and-red suit walked forward to look him in the eye – he even lowered his glasses down the bridge of his nose to make the eye-contact more direct. “No point in having any more posturing…” As he peered at the Brute, his eyes came to look sharper, more intense. He held that gaze for a long time, even as something changed in the Brute’s breathing.
Finally, he was done. He smiled in grim satisfaction, and beckoned to the Brute. Tony suspected something when he saw the loping way he walked now, but when he turned around, and he could see the Brute’s eyes, he knew for sure. All the animalistic ferocity was gone from his face, and his eyes looked blank and empty. Of everything.
Then, the two men at last noticed Tony sitting there, slumped against the wall. The one in black and red came forward, staring into his face. Tony felt the familiar tickling across the top of his mind, and immediately clamped his mind down, drawing his thoughts into the deeper levels.
“Intriguing…” After a long moment, he straightened again and turned to the man in white. “Brother, did you notice this one before?” His ‘brother’ nodded, and he turned back to Tony. “How very intriguing. We’re going to have to find out how you do that… after finding out a way to break past it.”
The one in white looked over to the stairs back down. “No time, brother. They’re coming.”
The elder one gave an exaggerated shrug. “We’ll have all the time in the world.” He turned to follow his brother down the stairs. “Brute, bring him.”
----
A few hours later, Tara was sitting in Mayes’ office, leaning back in her chair. Pylon and Katy both needed to report to Church to fix their injuries, so she’d been sent up to Mayes first. Though she hadn’t been injured, she still felt very shaky.
Finally, she limped her way through the last few words of her report. “When I woke up, the car was gone. I went inside the building, and I could see a few… signs of struggle… but nobody was there anymore.”
Mayes, as usual, wasn’t even looking at her. He stared out the window in the rear of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. He thought for a long moment before he spoke. “…thank you, Agent. Overmind will take your description, run through the database, and we’ll find those two party-crashers before you know it.”
Tara tilted her head upward to look at the back of Mayes’ head. “And Tony?”
Mayes turned around to lock eyes with her. “We’ll do what we can for Agent Caretaker. But remember the circumstances.”
The next second, Tara had lunged forward, her palms slamming down onto the desk. She hadn’t even noticed herself move. “Tony is an agent! We’re supposed to—” She had to consciously squash her grin at the wording she happened to choose. “We’re supposed to take care of our own!” She struggled to calm herself down, to make herself back off.
The sharpness of Mayes’ gaze made it a bit easier to just sit back down. He had a hard stare to match. “I’m aware of that, Agent Osmosis. And as I said, we will do all we can.” He glanced at the door behind her. “Now, I have two other Agents who need to report in. Do you mind?”
Tara’s lips stayed pursed, and her eyes stayed narrow, but she nodded. “Right.” With that one last word, she hopped up from her chair, and headed out the door.