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.

The Caretaker Reborn - chapter 1: The Newest Recruit

The explosion rocked the classroom, and set everybody panicking. In Beth’s shock, it seemed like all the jabbering from the students blended together, and she couldn’t make out a word. She was paralysed, glued to her desk seat. It took someone’s hand on her shoulder to snap her out of it.

Tony locked eyes with her. “Miss McDowell.” Another explosion, closer this time, drowned his next words in noise, but he repeated them. “Need to get the students out, call the authorities. Move.” He stepped back, eyes still locked. “I’ll take care of this.” He slipped out, gone before she could say anything, and the slamming of the door was punctuated with a third explosion.

Goosebumps raised on her arms at the thought the explosions were getting closer, but there was no time for that now. It was time for the woman in charge to take some charge. “Everybody, calm down!” She kicked off from her seat, and all the students in the room went quiet, giving her another moment to think. “Matt, Kathleen needs help standing. See to it. Ellen, look after your brother. And I know one of you has a cellphone I can borrow.”

----

Within minutes, everybody had evacuated, and the smoke followed them out the door. Beth breathed a sigh of relief, and let herself relax a little. The fire fighters were on their way; she could hear the sirens in the distance, getting closer and louder every moment.

Her relaxation was shattered when she saw the look on brown-haired Andrew’s face as he came running up to her. The only part of his face shielded from the grime and ash was just behind his glasses. “Beth, we didn’t get everybody. There are two students missing.”

Beth’s eyes went dull for a moment before she blinked herself back to her senses. “…what? Who?”

Andrew whipped his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “Tony Artemicia and Lucas Jackson.” His hands shook, and it took a few tries to get his glasses back on. “I just hope neither of them decided to be a hero.”

Beth’s jaw set, as she made herself admit it. “Tony… he charged out of my classroom, he said… well, what he usually says.”

Andrew stared at her blankly. “And you let him?” He shook his head, and moved on before she had time to justify herself. “At least Lucas is in there, he should be able to look after Tony. I mean, he is a pyroki—” He stopped in mid-sentence, and they both skipped a beat. “…you don’t think?”

“A pyrokinetic on a rampage?” They both jumped and turned at once. The strange winged thing vanished from her back, and they were left facing a black-haired, Middle-Eastern woman in a skirt suit, walking toward the school on slightly-heeled shoes. The badge on her lapel had a photo of her face, but permanent marker covered the name. “Guess I got here just in time, if not a little late.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than anyone. Before either of them could say a word, she pushed past them and the flow of the student body, headed straight inside the school.

Beth stared after her for a moment, mind trying to register this on top of everything else. She wasn’t doing too well. “Was that…”

Andrew’s mouth finally stopped hanging open. “An agent. FGA. I saw it on her badge.”

----

Whoever was doing this had a clear, and apparently thorough grudge against academia. The equipment in the computer room had been torched to melting point, and practically all that was left of the library was ash.

Tony shook his head, and just closed the door behind him. He hoped the library had the kind of insurance they’d need to handle that, but he didn’t have time to stop and worry. From the sounds of the explosions, the pyro was moving toward the chemistry lab. There were enough explosions there on a daily basis already.

Once he came a bit closer, he could hear the boy singing in between explosions. “No, more, pencils. No, more, books. No, more, teachers’, dirty—”

Tony stepped out from around a corner. “Old song. Not like your style.”

Lucas was wreathed in flame, especially along his shoulders. It looked like his hair wasn’t so much on fire, as completely replaced by it. He chuckled, and slowly turned around. “It seemed appropriate. Still got a few more lines to go until I get to the good bit, though.” His eyes flashed with more fire than they could have reflected.

Tony stopped and stood stock-straight, a fair ways down the hall from him. “Stop this, Lucas. Don’t want to fight.”

Lucas grinned broadly. As he lifted his hand, it burst into flames. “Of course you wouldn’t want to fight me. Hell, if I was you, I wouldn’t want to fight someone like me either.”

“Not what I meant.” Tony feigned left, and stepped right. The first fireball went harmlessly wild, and he kicked off the floor before the explosive impact could send him reeling. He ducked to the side, leaving the next fireball to merely singe his hair, and sent an uppercut into Lucas’ jaw as soon as his feet next touched the ground. The hit was solid on a KO point, and Lucas crumpled to the floor. The fight was over.

Upon hearing a noise behind him, he turned away from the unconscious pyro. A transparent, blue, impish creature was standing there, its colour contrasted by the red fire extinguisher in its gnarled hands. After a moment of staring, it faded completely, and a dark-skinned woman strolled around the corner to replace it.

She bent down to pick up the extinguisher, watching him appraisingly the whole time. “That was an impressive feat you just pulled.” She walked toward him. “What’s your name?”

“Tony Artemicia.” He glanced to her badge. “Yours?”

She stepped past him, and gave Lucas a quick spray. With the fire gone, he was left bald, though his clothes were intact. “Agent Theresa Williams, FGA.”

Tony stepped back, a little standoffishly. “FGA uses codenames.”

Theresa kept on walking, putting out fires as she met them. “That doesn’t mean I have to.” She looked over her shoulder to give him a wide grin. “I’ll be honest, Tony. I’m impressed with what I just saw you do. What kind of Gift do you have? Enhanced reflexes, speed, agility? Oh, I bet it’s something Psychic.”

Tony shook his head. “None. Un-Gifted.” His steps barely made a sound as he started following her.

She stopped suddenly, and just stood there, looking at him. “You just took out a full scale pyrokinetic… and you don’t even have any Gift to help you do it?”

He simply nodded, as if he didn’t see anything impressive about it.

Theresa slowly started walking again. “Tony, time for me to be blunt. I’m not just a field agent… I’m a recruiter. How about it? Want to see if I can convince the boss to let you join the FGA?”

----

They’d finally arrived. Major Mayes straightened his cap with a grimace. At this point, he was probably more used to his dress uniform than he’d ever been to his real one. It was quite a frustrating thought.

He stepped out of the limo, and paused. When a moment passed, and he heard nobody following him out, he turned to glare over his shoulder. All he could see were flashes of Pylon’s blond hair and Katy’s red, and two pairs of hands roaming all over where they shouldn’t.

“Both of you!” Mayes barked. The lovebirds jumped, and their faces withdrew enough to actually turn and look at him, though their hands stayed where they were. “Come on already. Any other delegate would bring a full suite of bodyguards. I should at the very least manage a pair of Gifted who can actually stop necking long enough to pay attention to the job at hand. Do you hear me?”

Pylon flashed his smug little smirk. God, did Mayes hate that smirk. Any time he saw it, he just wanted to get a metal scourer and wipe it off. “Of course, sir.” He gave Katy’s bust one last shameless squeeze before he reached to grip her hand, and pull them both out of the car. “Lead the way.”

While Pylon was visibly agitated, Katy could easily act like nothing had happened. Her breathing wasn’t quickened, her lipstick wasn’t smudged, and after a couple of sweeps, her auburn hair was neat and tidy. As creepy as it was that she could do that, let alone sneak the way she did on those stiletto-heels, at least she could act professional. “Where to first, Major?”

Mayes glared at them both for a moment before he turned away, and started walking up into the hotel. “Well, we’re not checking in, so don’t get your hopes up. I don’t plan to be here that long. We’re just going to go straight to the conference and get it over with.”

Katy slipped her hand from Pylon’s, and walked behind Mayes’ left shoulder while Pylon took his right. She gradually let her heels actually start making the click-clack they would with almost any other woman. “What’s this conference all about, anyway?”

“The same as usual.” The elevator doors opened only a moment after he pressed the button. “Same old agenda, trying to push us into taking that… boy-scout of theirs.” The doors closed behind them, and the elevator started to move.

----

The flier imps swooped to set them down, and then faded. Theresa started walking as soon as she touched down, walking toward the entrance while she fixed her hair and jacket. She glanced to the side. “Tony, you okay over there?”

“Fine.” He was walking oddly straight for a first-time flier. Most people would stumble or even fall down after being dragged through the sky at those rates and then unceremoniously dropped back to earth. Tony seemed to have not even noticed it – though there might have been telling that he hadn’t done anything to fix his hair. It couldn’t be that he just hadn’t noticed it. Certainly.

The doors opened on their own as they approached, leading them into a stark white room with a set of elevator doors on the other end. The only real break in the plainness of the room was a steel robot arm projecting from just above the elevator with a surveillance camera on the end.

“Welcome back, Agent Williams.” A smooth masculine voice came out of the camera as it extended towards them. It turned aside to glance at Tony. “Who’s the guest?”

Theresa grinned, and faced up to the camera with her hands on her hips. “Good to be back, Overmind. This is Tony Artemicia. If all goes well, he’ll be our newest recruit. I don’t suppose the Major’s back yet?”

The camera swivelled back in forth in something like a shake of the head. “Not yet. If it’s going to be the kind of conference it usually is, he won’t finish until after nightfall.” It turned toward Tony. “Now, tell me a bit about yourself, Tony. For starters, how did you catch Theresa’s eye?”

Tony managed not to visibly flinch from the talking camera, even holding his chin to speak eye to… equivalent. “Pyrokinetic.”

“You’re a pyrokinetic, hm? We’ve not had one of those work here before.” The camera withdrew a bit. “It’d be worth it to at least talk to the Major about it, maybe even let him see you in action.”

Theresa shook her head, still grinning. “No, you misunderstood. Tony fought a pyrokinetic, and won. Took him out with one clean punch. Without any Gifts.”

“Didn’t even use his Gift? Now that’s just showing off.” The camera glanced from one to the other. “Or... do you mean that he’s just... un-Gifted?”

“Un-Gifted, but more than capable. I saw him in action with my own two eyes.” She folded her arms. “Well, it was through my imp’s two eyes, actually. But you know that counts.”

Overmind sighed, though it didn’t crackle over the speakers. “I don’t know, Theresa. It’d be a bit of a stretch to get the Major to accept an un-Gifted into the Federal Gifted Agency.”

Theresa smiled wickedly. “Well, then isn’t it a good thing the Major is out today?” She clapped Tony on the shoulder. Though she could feel him tense up, his face didn’t change. “Tony has the whole day to get the rest of the Agency to fall head-over-heels for him. Then, if the Major says no, we can all go on strike until he changed his tune!”

Tony glared at her, then at her hand. In case the message wasn’t already clear enough, he reached up and brushed her off without a word.

She winked. “Not literally speaking, of course. I’m sure if you do your job well enough to impress the Major, he won’t care how un-Gifted you are. You just have to do something to really blow his socks off before the day’s out.” She turned back toward the camera. “Now, are you going open the elevator for us, or not?”

Overmind sighed, and it somehow didn’t crackle over the speaker. “You’d probably have one of your imps tear the doors open if I didn’t, so I don’t have much choice.” With a quiet ding, the doors slid open. “Scan, Jenny and everyone else still in the building are down in the basement. Good luck on first impressions, Tony.”

----

“I’m just going to tell you this one last time.” Mayes betrayed his calm demeanour when his fist slammed down. “The FGA will never have an un-Gifted agent.”

Pylon jumped at the sound, one Taser-tipped arm flinging toward him from across the room. Katy just gave the blond a bemused, even mocking smile while she waited for him to get back to kissing her.

The contacts, though, were more used to Mayes’ brazen mannerisms. “Good.” His first contact, a skinny woman with copper-red hair, glared straight at him while she spoke. “If that’s the last time, hopefully you’ll stop giving us that nonsense. You don’t have a choice in this matter.”

The other, a six-foot-tall bearded man, clasped his hands over the table and tried to play Good Cop. “Major, you have to understand. You know what the Treasurer is like. Even the Marines are having trouble funding their GW project. An entire federal agency of nothing but Gifted…” He shook his head.

Mayes sneered. “You’re just not comfortable with Gifted at all, are you? Here, I’ll even prove it.” He thrust his hand through the table. His arm, all the way up to the elbow, had turned ghostlike and semi-transparent. There was a moment of silence – the contacts were stunned, and the lovebirds he’d brought with him were too busy to say anything. “…that’s what I thought.”

The bearded man was the first to recover. “You’re not listening. We’re not the problem. Maybe after the next election we’ll have a Treasurer with more… sympathy, but we have to deal with what we have. Dorothy and I have considered all the angles, and it’s just the best way. Besides, after everything that happened five months ago, some good PR would be good for you.”

Mayes sighed, eased back in his chair, and made himself relax. ‘Fine.” He looked down at the file on the table. “But… not this one.”

----

Tony always kept a couple of steps behind, and his footsteps didn’t make a sound. Theresa had to glance over her shoulder just to make sure he’d even followed her into the elevator, and he didn’t say a word on the way down.

When the elevator opened into the basement, the first thing they encountered was an anteroom, the walls lined with benches and lockers. The pane of bulletproof glass across from the elevator looked into a massive training room, with gym equipment, a small shooting range, and even some more exotic and specialised gear.

A toned-looking woman with short, reddish-blonde hair stood underneath a pressure-plate, holding it up with both hands. Her feet were set into the ground, and her teeth were gritted. “How much longer is this going to take, Doc?”

There was a blonde-haired woman in a white labcoat and blue-rimmed glasses standing before a control panel, just next to the door into the training room. “You’re doing fine, Jenny. I’m going to increase the pressure by another twenty-five kilograms. Do you think you can handle that?”

Jenny groaned, one eye squeezing shut as she strained under the weight. “Sure thing, Doc. I mean, I’m only hauling three times the un-Gifted Olympic record right now.”

“This is a waste of time.” A Native American man with dark brown-red hair was standing by the console, arms folded, back against the glass. “You already have my reading from her, what more do you need?”

The blonde doctor wrinkled her nose. “I just need to check the accuracy of your results. No offence to you or anything, Scan, but you haven’t been here long.” She started slowly twisting a dial. “Jenny, give me a shout when you’re at your limit.”

Jenny gritted her teeth and her knees buckled a little. “Now.”

“Then let’s see.” After the plate retracted itself, the doctor peered down at the console and pursed her lips. “Hmph.”

Scan glanced to the screen, then smirked back at her. “See, Church? What did I tell you?”

Church sighed. “Exactly that number.”

Tony’s attention got pulled away from the rest of the exchange. “Theresa!” The girl had stayed out of sight and not made a sound before that moment. “Who’s the kid?” She spoke softly, slid off the bench where she sat, and strode over to join them.

Theresa recovered from her surprise. “Oh, I didn’t see you there.” She grinned, and gestured between them. “This is Tony Artemicia. Tony, meet Tara Carter. She’s just starting here, too.”

Tara was a Eurasian woman, half-Korean if he had to guess. Her hair was light brown, and a couple of locks fell across the left side of her face, though her eyes were still unobscured. “‘Too’? You mean you recruited him?”

Theresa nodded firmly. “Just found him today. Tara, you may be talking to the FGA’s first un-Gifted agent.”

“Un-Gifted?” Tara turned to Tony, giving him a special kind of hard stare. “How did that happen?”

Tony started to answer, but his voice was drowned out when the alarms started.

----

Dorothy frowned. “Not ‘that one’? And why not? We’ve already looked into him quite thoroughly, and he seems to be the perfect candidate to us.”

Mayes held up a finger. “That is because neither of you really know how the FGA operates.” He glares down at the file. “We’re not the military, so army training doesn’t help. Not least of all because the training is all he has.”

“Then what would you suggest?” The bearded man asked.

Mayes steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “I’ll need to find the agent myself. Someone with the right mentality, and real, tested skills…” He paused, and then grinned. “I can already think of someone to help me find them.”

Dorothy put herself at ease, but she still seemed in a huff. “Remember how long you’ve delayed this decision. You don’t have long to find your new agent.”

Mayes looked up. “How long?”

“A week.”

Mayes gave an easy smile. “If I can’t find my own agent in a week, I’ll gladly take your army poster-boy.”

----

Jenny sprinted out of the training room and snatched a towel up off a nearby bench. “Overmind, what’s going on?”

The alarms quieted, and Overmind’s voice came through a dozen hidden speakers at once. “It’s an incoming call from our usual liaison. Dr Church?”

She pressed a single button on the console. “This is Dr Harriet Church speaking. What’s the emergency?”

A calm male voice spoke from the other end. “We have a hostage situation, Dr Church. Four bandits, all confirmed as grade-2 Gifted, are holed up in the Florins Bank on 13th Street. Sending profiles now.” The blank screen divided into quadrants, each one showing a different file.

As Church scrolled through, everyone wordlessly crowded around. “You mentioned hostages? How many?”

“At least a dozen, counting disarmed security.” The calm tone turned bitter. “And since you apparently need reminding, they are the priority. You know how to contact me. Do so.” The line went silent.

Church scowled. “They’re not too powerful, but there are four of them. This will be tricky.”

Tony turned toward the elevator. “Florins Bank. I’ll take care of this.”

The doors didn’t open. “No, Tony. You’re going to stay here and let Tara and Jenny do their jobs. A pyrokinetic is one thing, bet we’re talking about four Gifted at once.”

Church frowned at Tony, only just noticing him there. “Who is this?”

“Someone who’s coming with us.” Tara punctuated it by slamming her locker closed, an FGA uniform slung over her shoulder. “That’s all that’s relevant, but Theresa can fill you in on the rest.”

Theresa bit her lip. “Tara, are you sure about this?”

She glanced over at him again, and nodded. “Definitely.” She tossed a spare radio headset his way. “We use the third preset frequency… and you’ll need a codename. Any ideas?”

Tony put the headset in place. “Caretaker.”

Tara flashed a bright smile. “Perfect. Now just give me and Jenny time to get changed, and then…” She winked at him. “…we’ll take care of this.”

----

“That could have gone better.” Katy sneered while she walked along behind Mayes, letting her heels click.

Mayes refused to let Katy’s snark bring his mood farther down. “It went as well as it could have been expected to, and considerably better than it could have. At least we have the chance to come out with our own agent, and with our assets, a week should be long enough. Even if we do end up pushing the time limit.”

Pylon furrowed his brow. “About that… what did you mean by the ‘perfect person to help’?”

Mayes smiled. “You of all people should have guessed that one, Pylon. Hell, without Church putting each candidate through all her intensive, redundant tests, it should actually be easier to find an un-Gifted agent.” His earpiece started beeping. “Now, if you’ll hold whatever thoughts you have, Overmind’s calling.” He pressed a button on the side of the pod. “Speak.”

“Major, do you have a moment? Dr Church needs to talk to you.”

Mayes didn’t even slow down. “Put her on. I have plenty of time, the meeting finished early.”

Church’s voice came on. “I need to talk to you about a new recruit Theresa brought in today, sir. Tony Artemicia.”

Mayes had enough presence of mind not to nod. “I made her a recruiter for good reason, Doctor. What’s the problem?”

“Theresa says he’s un-Gifted, but they took him away before I could test him. If I hurry, I can still call them back.”

“Did you say un-Gifted?” Mayes tried to keep his face straight. “What did Tara think of him?”

“Tara?” Church paused for a moment. “She practically dragged him out with her on the mission. I tried to convince her, but she refused to even listen.”

A grin spread across Mayes’ face. “I say give him a chance, and see how it goes. Tara knows what she’s talking about.”

“Are you sure, sir? I mean, he’s—”

“Un-Gifted, I know. I’ll explain when I get back, the train ride alone should take a few hours.”

----

Jenny’s voice came over the two headsets, as flat and bored as it always was. “Caretaker, Osmosis. That was a big one, are you two okay back there?”

“Nails, watch the road!” Tara gripped the handhold above her seat until the muscles on her forearm stood out. “We’d be doing a lot better if you drove with a bit of sanity!” She grumbled a few more words under her breath before shouting aloud, “Next time, I’m driving!”

“If you have your own license by then, sure.”

Tony didn’t say a word. He’d jammed his feet into the floor and wall to hold himself against the turbulence, and kept on scribbling on a notebook he’d taken from his schoolbag.

Tara watched him for a few streets. He had to stop what he was doing every time the van turned, but he looked pretty stable. She mimicked his pose. “What’s that you have there?”

Tony turned to the book to face her. The penmanship was a bit shaky, but it was clearly a blueprint. “Map of the bank. Should help planning.” He turned it back around and continued to work.

Tara raised an eyebrow and leaned sideways to try to get another look – before she could get the chance, another swerve of the van forced her to sit upright. “A full map? How can you even know the layout?” She furrowed her brow and peered straight at him. “…an eidetic memory, on top of everything else?”

“Yes…” After another moment’s drawing, he looked at her over the book. “What Gift?”

“You mean, what Gift do I have?” A sudden, severe bump in the road practically sent them both flying, and Tara caught herself in exactly the same way as Tony. Grinning, she brushed her two free locks of hair back into place. “I can copy other peoples’ skills.”

Tony let his smile spread wide as he straightened. “Perfect.”

The van shrieked to a stop. Glancing out the window, Tara saw the barricades, the crowds of onlookers trying to push through and into the bank, and the painfully-outnumbered police trying to keep them back. Jenny’s voice came through. “We’re here. Everybody step out and we’ll figure out a plan. Caretaker, bring that map of yours.”

Tony shrugged his schoolbag off his shoulder. “Already have one.” He undid his seatbelt and opened up the van’s double-doors. “Come into the back, I’ll talk you through it.”

Jenny appeared in the doors a brief moment later, her mouth bent into a sneer. Tara wondered if she’d stopped sneering at any point in the trip – or any point at all, for that matter. She hadn’t seen it. “What’s this plan, Caretaker?”

Tony flicked a switches on the side of his headset. “Radios off.” When the others followed suit, he cleared his throat, and began.

----

A few minutes later, Tony and Tara were standing at the front of the crowd, just beside the barricade. They’d already explained everything to the officers, and Jenny had already left to slip around the side. They just had to wait for the signal.

“I’m in position, Caretaker. Are you both ready?”

Tony glanced over to Tara before answering. Her nerves were on edge, and it probably showed on her face – or at least in the hand fidgeting with her hair – but she still nodded.

He put a hand to his headset when he responded. “Ready, Nails. Go.”

“Alright. Moving in on one, two—” The last number was lost in the wailing of the bank’s fire alarm.

Tara started moving just a split-second after Tony. Her reflexes and his took her over, all her nerves lost in the heat of the moment as they both sprinted for the bank’s front doors.

The first Gifted they met was tall, in possession of two strange steely-grey hands, and looking the wrong way. Tara’s first jab to the back of his head sent him reeling, but didn’t put him out. He spun around, and his fist morphed into a daggerlike blade as it swung toward her. She ducked under the clumsy hook, and as she sprung up, her uppercut found its way to a point on his jaw.

She blinked, and looked down at the crumpled robber. The whole exchange must have taken three seconds at most, but it hadn’t felt like it. “Whoa…”

Tony paused in his stride to give her a brief, but approving look. “Come.” His voice was soft, and he moved more stealthily than before. Mind still shaken from the fight, Tara only semi-consciously followed.

The hostages were everywhere – it must have been some kind of peak hour when the bandits attacked for there to be so many. They were scattered all over the room, kneeling with their hands tied behind their backs. The two of them crouched behind a desk at the entrance to the room, Tony hushed the skinny hostage sitting against it with a finger to his lips, and they surveyed the room from there.

Jenny was standing by the fire door – blown halfway off its hinged from when she made it open inward – holding an unconscious and slightly bloodied bandit by the back of his shirt. The last two of the robbers stood beside each other in the centre, one a young-looking Chinese woman with glasses, the other a bald-headed, pale-skinned man.

His hand was lifted into the air, fingers straight and palm tense. A few feet away from him, one of the hostages – a woman in the bank’s uniform – hovered in the air, her body held rigid and stiff, with her arms stretched down by her sides. “You…” The bald psychokinetic glowered at Jenny. “They heard I was up to some tricks, so they sent you, and thought you could actually defuse the situation?

“Algernon…” the Chinese girl whispered, just on the edge of Tara’s hearing.

“Not now, Crystal!”

Jenny shrugged blandly. She didn’t really seem to notice the weight of the fully-grown person she had hanging from one hand. “Look. This may seem all personal to you, but honestly, I don’t even know who you are.”

“You bitch!” His jaw set, and the fingers of his hand clenched inward just a little. The hostage’s body bent backward, a soft cry of pain coming from her throat. “After everything you did to me, you don’t even remember? You—”

The Chinese girl snapped, “Algernon!” His hand flattened out again, the hostage straightened, stealing a few deep breaths, and he turned to her. “Steel-hands is down. I can feel… one more agent, must be her partner.” She nodded her head to the desk Tony and Tara were hiding behind.

Algernon lifted his free hand, and the desk lifted off the floor. The hostage sitting against it seemed in slow-motion when he glanced over his shoulder. Tara grabbed him by the collar and pulled them both to the ground as the psychokinetic’s hand thrusted forward.

The desk flew over their heads and Tony baseball-slid underneath. His first strike hit before Algernon even realised he was there, and the hovering hostage shuddered in the air. The next strike knocked him out, the hostage fell, and Tony swooped to catch her before she hit the floor.

By the time Crystal had registered what happened, Jenny was standing right next to her. She sighed, and held up her hands. “I surrender.”

----

Tara still felt jittery when they were getting back in the van, after turning the bandits over to the police. Tony, on the other hand, seemed unshaken, even nonplussed. Jenny wasn’t in such a reckless hurry, so he took advantage of the smoother ride to get some homework done. Tara wondered how he could be so adjusted to that kind of tension.

After a few minutes of silence, she put her hand to her radio. “Nails… what did that guy mean by what he said? What was he talking about?”

“No idea.”

Tara sighed, and just sat back. No hints there, then.

“People don’t like imprisonment.” Tony spoke without looking up from his books. “Especially undeserved.”

Tony furrowed her brow at him. “What?”

He still didn’t look up. “Remember what the FGA were like five months ago. Besides Crystal, every one of those bandits had been in their prison.”

Tara went quiet for a moment, then nodded. “But they’ve reformed now, and it’s been a long time. I wasn’t even an agent back then.”

“People they imprisoned then don’t care.” He capped his pen one-handed and pushed it into the binder rings of his notebook.

Tara watched him closely. When she focused, she could feel the skills emanating from him, even the martial art they’d both used. That was the one she concentrated on. “Caretaker… after all that, I have a few questions for you now.”

He slipped his books back into the bag, sat up and turned to her. “Ask.”

She looked down at her hand. She could almost still feel the sting on her knuckles. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

His pause was just long enough to be noticeable. “Long story.”

She frowned. “You said to ask.”

“But never said I could answer.”

Tara pouted for a moment, but let it pass. “The mentalist, Crystal. She could only ‘sense’ one of us. If you’re really un-Gifted, how could you hide from someone like her?”

“No Gift.” He pushed a finger into his temple. “Skill. Special ways of thinking. Copying should be possible.”

She gave him another close stare. “No… mental skills are a lot harder to manage than physical. For me, anyway.” When a moment’s attempted probing brought up nothing, she shrugged and sat back. “Where did you learn it?”

He turned away. His face was mostly blank, but she noticed the faraway look in his eyes easily enough. Must have been a skill of his, god knew she was terrible at reading people normally. “Same as I learned to fight.”

“In other words, you won’t tell me.” She sighed.

A silent moment passed. “More questions?”

The van rolled into a parking space before she could answer. “Not now, at least.” She pulled off her seatbelt and held up a warning finger, though her tone was still light and joking. “Don’t forget, though, I’m going to find time to grill you until I find something you will answer.”

----

“A few minutes later, we got back to HQ, then I got in the elevator, came up here, left Tony in the waiting room, reported to you, and now I’m pretty much rambling because it’s fun.” Tara rested back in her seat, hands behind her head. She watches the look on Church’s face carefully; this new skill with body language was quite a novelty, and she was making the most of it while she still could.

Church sneered slightly at Tara’s semi-joke. “Cute.” Her brow was furrowed in concentration and frustration; it was taking longer than she’d have liked to get everything typed, and Tara’s distracting attempts at humour weren’t helping. Finally, she finished, and rested her hands on the keyboard. “Is there anything else you’d like to mention?”

Tara leaned to the side to try to get a look at the laptop screen. “No… I think that’s it.”

Church nodded, and relaxed, even giving Tara a bit of a smile. Once the typing was over, she was much more amiable. “Good. Now, facts of the mission itself aside, I need your opinion.” She glanced through the glass-windowed door behind Tara’s shoulder.

Tara could figure what she was talking about. “He has my vote.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “For one, he has lots of skills, and I’d need that in a partner. For two, he handled himself during the mission like a pro. For three, he’s got a bit of a tactical head on his shoulders. I mentioned it was his plan, right?”

“Yes, you did.” Church turned to the screen, and paused for a moment as she considered what kind of computer action would best substitute for shuffling papers together. “Well, I’ll be sure to pass all your recommendations on to Major Mayes, but remember that it’s in his hands, not mine.”

“I know, I know.” Tara got to her feet and pulled her shirt out straight. She paused when she was halfway through opening the door, turning back to the desk with her hand still on the knob. “Just in passing, do you know where Jenny is?”

Church gave a nod. “Knowing her, she’ll be back down in the gym until Mayes calls in. Don’t worry too much about catching her before she leaves, she already knows not to go without you.”

Tara eased the door open and rested a hand against the frame. “Oh, I was just going to get her to bring Tony along, too.” She smiled wistfully. “I’d like him to get to know Pylon a bit. Anyway, I’ll send him in on my way out.”

If Tony had moved an inch through Tara’s entire report, it didn’t show. She had to stifle a giggle when an image occurred to her – Tony frantically slipping back into place any time he thought she was about to look.

He noticed her standing there soon enough, and slid up to his feet. “Report done?”

Tara paused long enough to exchange a words. Sure, she could have said what she needed to just by slowing her pace a little, but it would still be rude to just keep walking. “Doc’s waiting for yours. Be ready to get moving once you’re done, I’m going to take you along to meet a couple of people.”

Tony nodded his farewell. “Later.” He strode past her into the office, as always moving just that little bit faster than he strictly needed to.

----

Jenny looked a bit more animated down in the gym, in front of the specially-reinforced punching bag. The way she hammered into it, you’d think it had personally insulted her mother and pet dog. Tara decided to just watch quietly and meekly from behind the bulletproof glass – preferably a long way behind – until she was done.

“What a waste.” It was the first thing Scan had said since Tara had walked in. “The least she could do is at least try to do it without her Gift, so she stops pouring all her energy out into pointless aggression. But no, she prefers to act like deactivating a Gift is impossible, and so continues to weaken and drain herself before a mission even starts.” He shook his head.

Tara gave him an odd look. She wasn’t even entirely sure he’d meant to say that to her, or if he was just ranting to himself. When she’d first met him, she’d thought he was a bit too young to act like such an old man, but she would probably get used to it. And other people would probably come to expect it, too – all that frowning was sure to give him early wrinkles.

Another moment passed without Scan saying anything, so she guessed that he hadn’t been expecting a response from her. Just as she was contemplating what to say to break the discomfort of the silence herself, the earth-shaking assault finished. Tara breathed a sigh of relief, and stepped on over to the door.

Jenny came out with a towel slung over her shoulder. She was panting too hard to speak, so she didn’t even say anything before walking past Tara on her way to the showers. Her body was absolutely drenched in sweat. Tara wondered how her body had even held that much fluid in the first place, but only briefly before she started instead wondering why Jenny had thought a white tank-top was a good choice for that kind of workout. It probably explained why Scan was still watching something he thought of as such a ‘waste’, at least.

Tara kept pace with her easily enough. “Listen, Jenny, can I ask you for a favour?”

Jenny glared at her, but she kept talking anyway.

“I know you usually take the sedan to pick the Major up, but I wanted to take Tony along to meet him, start some good impressions going.”

Jenny started the shower without taking her shirt off, and without acknowledging Tara.

“So, I was hoping that this time, I could convince you to bring something a bit bigger, maybe even the limo. You know… just this once.”

A long moment passed without Jenny responding, so Tara muttered some extra almost under her breath.

“Glare at me like you wish you still had enough energy to strangle me for ‘yes’.”

----

Though his eyes drifted all over the limo, Tony kept his hands to himself. The way he clasped them in his lap, he wouldn’t have looked out of place in a monk’s robe – which was more than Tara could say for most monks she’d seen.

Tara kept a close watch on him from the opposite bench. Try as she might, she couldn’t pierce his mask; his face just looked blank to her. His eyes were the only point that betrayed any emotion, and even they seemed calm, confident and relaxed.

Eventually, she decided to try striking up a conversation. “You’re not nervous about meeting him at all, are you?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“So plain-spoken…” Tara sighed as she shook her head. “Well, that might change once you actually do. Let me warn you now, he can be pretty fierce.”

Tony nodded without a word.

Tara pouted at the overall lack of response, but before she could badger him any more, the limo came to a smooth halt.

Jenny called back from the driver’s seat, “We’re here. C’mon.”

----

Either they made really good time getting there, or Mayes had called too early, because they ended up waiting for quite some time at the private platform. At least long enough that Tony wasn’t the only one frustrated by it. Tara had left to find a vending machine, and Jenny just sat and grimaced at the empty train tracks, so he was mostly alone with his thoughts.

From a normal, dull morning, it had spiralled into quite an… eventful day. He was less interested in the action and more in the significant people he’d met, and was about to meet. From what he’d been told about them, he hadn’t expected Jenny to be so morose, or Church to smile so often. Still, the person who’d told him that was talking from old data – five months old, and a lot had happened since then.

Just as he was musing about that, the tracks started to rumble. Nothing of him moved but his head, which swivelled to watch the single car approach. It actually moved pretty quietly for a train. He only actually stood up when it got closer, and timed his movements such that he stopped beside the yellow line just as the doors were opening.

Out stepped a man who had to be Major Hugh Mayes. The cropped haircut and olive uniform would have been enough, but he stood near-constantly at attention, wary of everything around him, and had a look on his face that said he thought everyone else was an idiot for not doing the same. Though he had the neatly-pressed uniform of a desk officer, he had the step of a true soldier. He gave Tony an appraising look up and down. “You must be the new agent I’ve heard so much about. Tony Artemicia, codename Caretaker, correct?”

Tony didn’t break eye contact for even a second, even as he nodded and stepped back. “Yes, sir.”

Even Tony only barely caught Mayes’ smile. “Very good.” He said it as much to himself as to Tony. “I have quite a bit to say to you, Caretaker, but it can wait until we’re in the car.” He threw a shout over his shoulder while he stepped all the way out of the train. “Blade! Pylon! Get your hands off each other and come on out, we’re leaving.”

The bodyguards came out arm in arm – or, more correctly, the woman was dangling off the man’s arm. Pylon walked with a bit of a swagger, and had the kind of self-assured smirk that Tony always had to resist wiping off by hand. His eyes were an electric kind of blue, and his hair was blond, short, and choppy. He was dressed in standard FGA uniform.

As they came out the doors, the woman slipped her arm from Pylon’s and put her hand to her hip. Her hair was of the deepest red, almost indistinguishable from black, and very curly as it went just past her shoulders. She had jade green eyes to match a face with some clear Oriental descent. ‘Blade’ was printed across the upper chest of her uniform, and though the uniform itself was clearly modified for better mobility, much more noticeable was the belt around her waist, holding a shortsword in its scabbard.

Tony looked from one to the other. The pair were clearly a couple, from the clear ease they had with each other, all the way down to the tousled, post-makeout hair that she was just starting to correct. Still, the farther they came from the train, the more distance she put between her and Pylon.

Why became clear very soon. Hearing a sound behind him, Tony looked over his shoulder, and watched Tara as she came back onto the platform and greeted Pylon with a flying hug and a kiss on the lips. “Don’t ever take that long again! I missed you!” She turned a near-glowing smile on Tony. “Pylon, Katy, that young man over there is my new partner, Tony.” She put a very proud tone into her voice for the next. “Tony, meet my boyfriend, Pylon.”

Tony just barely managed to keep his face blank.

----

“You said you would explain when you got back, sir?” Church kept her tone cautious, but Mayes knew she wouldn’t be afraid to keep asking until she got an answer.

He kept his back to her, hands clasped behind him as he gazed out the window of his office. “I’m going to be frank, Doctor. They’ve been twisting my arm about it for a long time, but today they finally gave an ultimatum.” He walked around to behind his desk, and still didn’t face her until he’d sunk into his big, overstuffed swivel chair. “They gave me a week from today to find an un-Gifted agent, or they’d find one for me. If I was a believer, I’d say this boy must have been sent straight from heaven to come with such good timing.”

“About that, sir.” She tilted her head forward slightly to give him a stern look over the top of her spectacles. “We still need to confirm that he really is un-Gifted. Scan went home for the night before giving him a proper reading, and some of his abilities seem a bit… suspicious.”

Mayes strode around his desk, and still didn’t actually look at her until he’d sunk into his big, overstuffed swivel chair. “Everything that’s mattered so far have all been his skills. Tara can account for that much.”

“His combat skills, maybe, but the mentalism—”

He held her with a stern look. “Doctor Church. Tomorrow, he needs to come in to be fitted with equipment anyway, and that will give Scan plenty of time. I’ve already given Theresa and Overmind the orders to begin the background checks, so don’t bother bringing that up. And I’ve contacted someone to look into his alleged ‘anti-mentalism powers’.”

Church blinked, and after a moment, her eyes widened. “You don’t mean… Mesmer?”

Mayes’ smile spread halfway across his face. “It’ll be Agent Mesmer again, soon enough. Of that I can assure you.”