"Thar ya go talkin' crazy agin." Tim said. "I ain't droppin' ya off in no woods. Me an you ar pardners and Sean har has joined up with us. So he's a pardner too, I figur, and pardners don' leave pardners along side the road ta fend fur themselves. That's the way of it. So I don' wanna here no more of that Loco weed talk." Tim said " 'Sides ifin' and I'm sayin' ifin that crazy old man tries any shit with ya, He'll be steppin' inta a hornets nest like he ain't never seen." Tim then concentrated on on road

John McMannus hobbled over to his work bench where suspended over it was a flat screen TV, it's protective plastic covering splattered with grease and grime and a few phone numbers written with sharpies on the sides. He carefully placed the rear axle on two steel work horses, then grabbed his oversized novelty remote and turned up the volume so he could listen to the morning news. Searching around the bench he located his giant mug, a gift from John Jr. when he and his class went on a field trip to Washington State Park. On it was the classic 'still image' of Sasquatch from the famous, Patterson video and around was the caption, 'I SAW BIGFOOT, AND HE GAVE ME THIS MUG'. John wasn't too jazzed on the humour, but the fact that the kid thought of getting a mug to accommodate his oversized hand meant everything to John.

John grabbed the newspaper and spread it out over a work table beside him and what he saw on the front page made McMannus' rigid face flex into a scowl. There on the front page was a composite the bore the resemblance of Tim, under the head line, 'WRANGLER WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE', a pun on an old western style wanted poster, but John wasn't the least bit amused. He then heard Gloria Newcastle begin her report on the Wrangler, recapping the events of the man-hunt occurring across the state. She also went to comment on the strange occurrence of what could only be described as 'mass hallucination' that had occurred on the George Washington Bridge during a high speed chase that supposedly involved the Wrangler. "Several people said that it suddenly felt like they were moving underwater or through quicksand and suddenly they were unable to move. The event was only seconds long but in that time, the Wrangler who had been driving a late model mustang, eluded police and federal agents. Agent Richard Jameson, who was the federal officer involved in the first incident that occurred in the Battery Tunnel, would not provide comment." She reported.



McMannus watched the report, slowly shaking his head. "Tim, what have yuz gotten yurself into." He said to himself and it was at that moment that he saw a black crown vic, that stank of police pull up in front of one of the open bay doors.



Jameson turned off the car and stepped out, simultaneously with Henkel. "You sure about this place?" asked the senior agent.

"This is the address." Replied Jameson, taking his sunglasses off and scanning the area for any signs of a black, 1967 mustang. Then both of them tried to keep their jaws from dropping with the large meta-human limped into view, the gears of his mechanical leg echoing though the shop.

"Can I helps yuz guyz?" Asked McMannus, although he didn't sound the least helpful.

Henkel turned aside to his partner, "Now let me handle this." he whispered. He then approached the giant man confidently and produced his identification. "Special Agent Henkel and his is my partner, Special Agent Jameson. Are you John McMannus, meta-human registry number 185-3895TD8?"

Even John's stone face couldn't conceal his disdain for hearing his registration number read aloud, as if we were some prisoner in a concentration camp. "What yuz guyz want? I gotsa buzy day ahead of me."

"We would like to ask you a few questions if we can."

"Doez I have a choice?" Rumbled McMannus as took a sip of his coffee.

"Look we just need to ask you a few questions." Said Henkel innocently, as he pulled out a composite of the Wrangler and held it up for John. "Have you seen this man before?"

"Never seen 'em, now buzz off." Answered McMannus, and that's when Jameson could no longer tolerate his innocence and stepped of Henkel.

"You listen here, meta." Jameson growled, "How would you like to see the inside of detention centre?" Then to put a strong period at the end of his sentence poked his finger into John's chest. Jameson tried not to show the pain, but it was evident that the shock of the strike against the mutants rock like pectoral was very unexpected. He forced himself to stifle the pain and keep his eyes trained on McMannus who just stared coldly at the agent like the unyielding mountain of a man that he was.

Henkel pictured Jameson being torn limb from limb if he didn't back down. "So you mind if we have a look around?" he said to divert the tension.

"As a matter a' fact, I do. Yuz guyz got a search warrant?" Demanded McMannus.

"We'll get one." Threatened Jameson.

"Well I'llz be waitin' right here then." McMannus defiantly replied, knowing all to well they wanted the car, but it was far away from his shop, stashed in a warehouse and there was no way they could link it to him.

Henkel tapped Jameson on the shoulder to prompt him to leave then he turned in mid-stride and offered the meta-human a good morning. Then as soon as they got into the car and Jameson pulled away, Henkel laid into his partner. "What the hell is the matter with you! F&*@! You don't pull shit like that with a meta! That macho bull shit doesn't mean squat to that guy! Did you even bother to read his file?"

McMannus watched the two agents drive down the road and when they turned the corner he pulled out his specialized satellite phone. It looked like an electronic aberration but it was completely untraceable and gave him free long distance too. He hit one of the big buttons and Tim's cell phone chimed. "Hey, it'z me. Some feds wuz just here, lookin' fer the Wrangler. I'm not gonna tell yuz how to live yer life, but yer gettin' yerself in ta some deep shit, Tim. If'n yuz needz me, just ask, okay."

Henkel, adjusted his collar after letting loose on his partner and just when he was about to make another point, his phone went off. "Henkel." he answered.



"Agent Henkel, this is Blake Birkshire." Greeted the caller, and upon hearing his voice Henkel leaned back and thought what else could go wrong this morning. "Did you see the news report this morning? I am just calling to find out why you haven't alerted R.A.I.D. as to the nature of this, 'Wrangler', you've been chasing across New York."

Time - 8:46 am - Friday

In the back of the Hummer Sean had stretched out as much as he could. The snoring had finally stopped but now he was muttereing incoherently. This went out for almost half an hour before the dark man woke up. At some point his sunglasses had fallen off, revealing the bright white eyes beneath them. He looked from Tim to Morgan, unaware that his glasses were off at the moment. "Did I miss anything?"

Sean grins. "Dealing with garbage is what I do best." At the mention of his sunglasses he touches his face and nearly panics. Very few people ever saw his eyes and those that did usually flipped out. Once his glasses were back on he let out a sigh of relief. "Sorry about that. My eyes are a little sensitive to light. But they do help me see in total darkness. Kinda cool."

Sean watches Morgan for a moment then slowly slides the glasses off his face. "Been wearing them so long that it feels wierd without them. Of course I've never really thought of my eyes as cool." He is clearly uncomfortable with this but he is still willing to give it a shot.

"I ain't the least bit stubburn. ain't got a stubburn bone in my body." Tim said as he drove on north on NJ9G

"Ain't nobody gonna get hurt, cause of you. I told ya I ain't gonna let nuthin' happen ta ya. 'Sides once we gets ta Troy we'll hav hep. Folk just like us, but with diferent powers." Tim's secure cell phone John had given him rang with The Good, The Bad and The Ugly theme. Tim smiled to himself and thouight 'Only John would do that'
"Yep." Tim answered. "I ain't ta anythin' I ain't been inta 'fore John. Don't ya get ta frettin' now. ........... Ya I figured they'd be a snoopin' round. .............. Damn, I wonder how'd they get that.......wait that damned gang bager scum bag, musta been flapping his jaws.......tyrin' ta save his ow ass I reckon. Should a shot that son of a bitch when I had the chance. Oh, well ain't no use cryin over spilt milk. ......... Thanks John ya know I will ifin' I need ta. You watch yer ass. sorry ta hav brought this shit ta yur door. ......... Ya IO know you jus' take care of that boy of yurn' and John Jr. ........ Right I yak at ya latter. Thanks again." Tim disconected and stuffed the phone back in his pocket.