While the RAID enforcers initiated their sweep of the lower sewer levels in search of the fallen comrades, Totem stumbled onward down another tunnel, positive that he was still heading toward the base. Giving up on moving silently the blinded man, sloshed through ankle deep water announcing his presence to all within ear shot. It was more soothing to keep his eyes closed so Totem did not even bother to rely on them, feeling his way along the wall, guided by his powerful sense of smell granted by the spirit of the polar bear.

Totem knew that he was a sitting duck for ranged weapons but he hoped that he would smell the enforcers before they got him in their sights, of course in the stale underworld the early detection was debatable. His only hope was to cover enough as ground as possible and increase the distance between him and RAID and maybe find his way back to the base if he was lucky.

As the Haida man made his way along the tunnel, the sound of running water came to his ears and further off in the distance the sound of rapids. "Shit!" he thought to himself, and hoped there would be a way to avoid the rushing water, but then that issue suddenly became secondary. His first and foremost concern was the scent he picked up — the scent of man. It was not possible for Totem to determine how many there were and turning back was not an option, so gripping his long knife in his right hand he felt his way along the wall until he felt the lip of another passage. The scent was stronger now, and Totem knew that his only chance was to strike hard and fast with his bear-like strength and hope that he would wound the man seriously enough that he could not fight back.

Totem breathed in the scent as he slowly approached the corner, then he realized that their was something very familiar about the fragrance of the man.

"Cowboy?" Totem called, still ready to strike blindly, "Godammit, I hope that's you, otherwise one of those RAID bastards stole your clothes." He waited then, his back to the wall, just at the edge of the other tunnel waiting to defend himself if he was wrong. The sound of his own heart beat counted off the seconds while he waited for a response, but before the identity of the stranger could be determined the shouts of other RAID enforcers echoed in the distance. The voices were scattered and Totem couldn't tell where they originated from, but it was evident that they were getting closer.

Shawn read Mikala's response and furrowed a brow. As his mind worked her point of view over, his anger dissipated until he finally sat down on the floor by her feet. He'd read and experienced the world enough to know that he was the different one in this aspect, but that never made it easier to understand. This concept of caring about other human beings . . . he just didn't get it. There was 6 billion humans on the planet and not one had ever struck him as important enough to put oneself out for. Still, he realized that his own actions could be easily mistaken for this . . . altruism. He wondered then what they would think of their amazing little disabled kid if they knew he was merely entertaining himself.

"I'm not interested in teaching any snot nosed kids . . . " he said finally, the "image" in his head consisting of the very kids he grew up with in the orphanage who used to torment him suddenly sitting listening in awe to his life story. Just thinking about it made Shawn unsure if he wanted to laugh or vomit. "I'm not interested in other people either. I don't think I'm going to get your point of view . . . and I definitely don't think we're going to agree." His hands motions were smoother, his tone calmer as he spoke with his head lowered to its usual position. "All I can tell you is I'm not amazing or admirable or any of that bullshit," said Shawn after a moment. "You can think whatever you want."
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A soft tap on the door turned Snap Dragon's and Wraith's attention to Ayana who stood hesitantly just outside the threshold.

"Hey," said Seizure with a somewhat uncertain smile, "how is she?" she asked, nodding towards Morgan, "and how'd the interview go?" While she was never one to read thoughts without permission, especially when those thoughts belonged to a friend, Ayana could tell there was a bit of storm going on with Wraith's mind. Although she refused to let her curiosity surpass her principles, she couldn't help but wonder still. It didn't seem like typical nervousness about how the interview might have gone. Still, if the man didn't want to share with her, she wouldn't pry. The most she could do right then was let her concern show on her pretty dark face and hope Wraith trusted her with whatever was troubling him.


The sea spread out endlessly in front of Kekoa, glistening and undulating invitingly as the sunlight played across the surface. The sound of the folding waves and shouting seagulls filled his ears as a cool, salty breeze brushed past him. As the cool water slipped over his feet, Kekoa felt himself rushing against the slight current until he crashed down onto the water, floating along the surface and letting his already sun-baked skin soak in the sun.

When he opened his eyes, the dingy, off-white tile stared back at him-- scratched and gritty such that it didn't look clean no matter how much he and Seizure scrubbed at it. As the steaming water rolled soothingly over his aching muscles, the image of his long abandoned beaches settled in the back of Kekoa's mind, the sounds of the ocean giving way to the screams of the pipes behind the wall. Running his bronze hands through his long, black hair, he finally shut off the water and stepped out of the tiny shower. Drying off, he re-dressed his bandages and put on a pair of loose, linen pants and a white wife-beater. Long hair hanging loose and still wet, Kekoa meandered seemingly aimlessly down the halls, his thoughts in their own, private place.
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Grey wasn't sure what to think, but as the doctor work, he grit his teeth and suppressed his tics and true to the man's word, he felt ready to take on the world. When Stitch had finished, Grey slowly sat up, half expecting the now all-too-familiar agonizing pain to shoot through him again. When nothing happened, it felt almost foreign.

"Wow... um ... thanks," he stammered, letting a few face-twitches slip by. After another moment, Grey slid off of the table and paused, unsure if he should ask as he still had no idea where he was or where this guy had come from. "Hey um . . ." he paused, shouting "QUACK! Shit!" before looking away uncomfortably, searching for the words. He so rarely breached the topic that now it seemed he was trying to speak a foreign language in which he wasn't yet fluent. "Can you . . . um . . . like . . . ya know, fix my brain?" At this, a gentle understanding smile slightly curled the doctor's lip.

"Sorry," he said, "I can't make you better. I can only restore you to the way you were." At this, Grey merely nodded, dropping the topic. He then shifted his weight again, digging into the pocket of his cargos and pulling out two empty pill bottles.

"What about these?" he asked, holding out the bottle for clonadine and the bottle for the illegal vicodin. "I need these. Ya got 'em?"

Tim whispered softly to Totem... "Ya know fur an injum ya sur kin make one hell of a racket? Now ifin' ya ain't fixin' ta poke me with that thar hog sticker, I'd feel a might betur ifin' ya lowered it a bit. An git behind me pard. I figur we're 'bout ta have some cumpny, an it might be betur if'in they did'n know wur har right away." Tim reached in his back pocket, took the second radio and headset out and placed them in Totems hand.

The sound of the R.A.I.D. officers feet sloshing through the ankle deep water grew louder. Tim could hear the chatter of their radio traffic through the ear piece of the communication headset and radio he had taken from the dead operative in the tunnel below.

"Team 3 ... 10-97.... 10-108 ..... Damn it! The bastards killed Charlie and Max ...... Mother of God! The bastads damned near cut their heads off! ...... All teams proceed to Tunnell 57-983 ...... 10-40 .... 10-0 suspects may be considered armed and dangerous. ......... Team 8 .....10-76. ....... Save a peice of the bastards for us." came over the radio as the sound of rapidly approaching feet sounded in the tunnel. Tim held up three fingers, indicating he decearned three pairs of feet. He then pointed at Totem, and motioned for him to move a bit further into the darkness, pointedd to himself then to the oppisite wall of the enclave, placed two fingers to his eyes, pointed towards the approaching sound and swept his finger back and forth. Indicating he was moving to the opposite wall to see if he could see the R.A.I.D officers approach. Tim then moved quickly to the oppiste wall and flattened hiself against it best he could

Totem was glad to hear Cowboy's voice and felt the transceiver being placed in his hand, but did not visually acknowledge the exchange. In the dark of the sewer and preoccupied with the approach of the RAID enforcers bent on revenge, the ex-seal did notice that the Haida man's eyes were closed. He was oblivious to Cowboy's silent signals he made in the dim light of the covered light source but hearing the near inaudible stirring of Cowboy's feet as they swept away from him, Totem sensed that something was wrong. Forcing his eyes open, his dark bear eyes peered into a field of blackness, pock marked with bright flashes of pain. Without the spirit of the cougar within him, in the dark of the sewer the eyes of the bear were as useless as his own, despite the flash blindness. He also realized that even the darkness would not save him since the enforcers were equipped with both night and thermal imaging visors. All he could do was move around the corner, force his back to the wall and wait.

As the splashing steps of the approaching RAID enforcers grew louder, Totem prayed that Cowboy was as fast as he seemed to be since his own attack would be blind. When the time was right, he'd lunge at the enforcers, raging with all the power and ferocity of a blind polar bear and he wouldn't have time to distinguish friend from foe.

"She's stable." Wraith answered Seizure not raising his eyes from his chart. He didn't like people prying into his personal life, especially telepaths but he didn't hold it against her. He realized that a telepath could no more not receive a person's surface thoughts than a person could choose not to hear someone else's conversation. Try as one might they would still pick up on a word or two. Still, he concentrated on Morgan's medical information to prevent any other thoughts of his encounter from leaking out.

Wraith remembered the method what his old friend Mind Field had taught him. A simple discipline to keep the mind from wandering which was more beneficial to the telepathic super-hero than those around him, since it helped reduce the 'psychic noise' that at times could be overwhelming for him. He knew the tell tale signs of a mind-read, but trusted that Seizure wouldn't attempt such a invasion.

"My interview," Wraith repeated, "went well.", and he left at that, reminding Seizure with a serious glare just why he wore a mask. His privacy was important, not only for himself but for those around him.



It was at that moment, that the masked Sigma came strolling down the hall. He made sure he made enough a noise so as not to startle Seizure. Her telepathic abilities which were an extension of her senses couldn't read or even detect his presence. He wasn't even a void, just nothing and if she'd get quite a start if he didn't audibly make his presence known before squeezing past her into the room.

"An interview?" he questioned with a knowing look in his eyes that troubled Wraith, and at that moment Seizure could not help but pick up on the face of the man that Toril had met with at the lounge. The only other bit of information that accompanied the face was a single name — Vacily.

Sigma glanced over at Seizure as if he suspected that she would get some more information out of the big man's head, then he ended with a, "Guess that's something you'd like to keep to yourself?" Then he left the room and proceeded down the hallway toward his office.

Wraith, remained silent. He suspected that Sigma somehow knew something about his meeting with Vacily, but how? He have to speak with later, but presently he was more concerned with Morgan.




Stitch nodded when Grey revealed the bottle of vicodin and motioned for him to follow. He walked down the long corridor to the end, then rummaged in his pockets until he found a key ring and opened the four locks that secured the door at the end of the hallway. As he opened the door, Scavenger appeared behind Grey munching on an icecream sandwich and peeked over his shoulder.

When Stitch turned on the light, Scavenger's eyes widened and his jaw hung lose. The entire room had shelves of drugs, the place was basically a pharmacy with everything a doctor or addict needed.

Stitch strolled in and non-chilantely turned to the potential thieves with little concern. "I don't have to remind the both you who actually owns all of this." he told them in usual dry manner. "Take what you need." he then offered and left them alone.



Scavenger knew precisely who the 'owners' were, and didn't want to piss of the mob, Umbra or any of the other gangs that relied on Stitch's talents. The illegal pharmacy wasn't his that was for damn sure, which is why he didn't think twice about leaving them alone in the treasure trove.

"We'll just take what we need." he shouted out to Stitch as he made his way back down the aisle, assuring him that they'd behave.

Tim had laid the spare body armour down next to Totem after he had handed him the second radio and headset. As the first two R.A.I.D. officers ran past them, Tim waited for the third to run just past the opening to the side tunnel, then sprang on him from behind. Tim covered the officer's mouth with with his left hand and drove the six inch blade of the Navy Seal killing knife into the side of the man's throat slowly lowering him to the ankle deep water. Tim then moved switftly forward, just as the second officer turned, noticed that a mud covered form was moving rapidly towards him. The officer started to raise his weapon, to take aim at Tim, when Tim threw his knife, striking the officer in the throat. The officer dropped his weapon, brought his hands up to his throat, gave a slight gurgled sound and fell to the ankle deep water on the floor of the tunnel. Tim, leaped up grabbing and overhead pipe and pulled his feet up after him, wrapping them around the suspended pipe. Tims ribs and shoulder sceamed in pain, from the injuries he had received in the fight against the cursing man in the alley. The first officer turned, his night vision goggles saw his two fellow officers lying in a pool of blood and water. "Team 8 leader Tunnel 57-983..... 10-108 .. 10-30 .... Code 30 ...... two I repeat two officers down ..... who the hell are these guys?" The team lead screamed into his radio as he ran back in the direction of the side tunnel, sweeping his weapon from side to side, as the laser beam site danced along the walls. After the oficer had passed, Tim slowly swung down, knelt and removed his knife from the fallen officer's throat, wiping it on the officer's vest. Staying crouched he watched as the Team leader ran towards where Totem laid in wait.

Before the second officer fell, Totem struck him like a bull, his usual fluid style of attack reduced to a brutish charge. Tim just managed to pull himself out of the Haida's path as his long broad blade skewered the dying man and lifted him off the ground.

Totem was at least sure that his first victim wasn't Cowboy, but had lost track of him. He had no idea where his partner was and had little choice but to run toward the familiar sound of a weapon being cocked. Using the body as a shield he barreled down the narrow tunnel toward the sound with all the speed he could muster.

The last RAID enforcer stood his ground, taking aim with his plasma rifle. He had to make a split second decision and determining that the other two were already dead leapt up and wedged his legs against the sides of the tunnel so that he was suspended above the water. He took aim and fired.

A burst of bright white light filled the tunnel as the plasma blast struck the body and transferred the deadly current into Totem.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" Screamed Totem as the electricity coursed through his body. His momentum carried him into the enforcer throwing him back into the shallow water.

Totem fell in the water on top of the body, hydroplaning for ten feet before he lay groaning, his head resting upon the chest of the dead RAID enforcer he had used as shield.

The last RAID agent, protected by his armour sprang to his feet with hardly an injury. He took a moment to slosh around the water looking for his rifle but then seeing the second meta-human descending from his perch opted to reach for his knife. The other meta-human was behind him and incapacitated, it was just him and the one that killed his other men.

"Com'on boy! Let's see what you got!" Challenged the agent, urging the meta to fight him blade to blade. "After I gut you I'm gonna cut that f&$%*ing Indian's head off!"

The agent was a big man and he moved like someone who knew how to handle a knife. It was very apparent to the ex-seal that the RAID enforcer was once special forces or something comparable.

"Ya sur ya wana do this son?" Tim Tim asked as he stared expressionless at the big officer with eyes as cold as icebergs, shifted his knife into a fighting position, gripping it tightly in his right hand. Tim's left hand came up and hovered between his throat and heart.

Mikala could feel the emotions coming from Shawn and she understood some of what he was feeling, but even she had sense enough to know that she may feel his emotions, but she had not walked in his shoes. Taking his device, she began to type again.

"Okay, Shawn. We agree to disagree then. I know that you can take care of yourself I just want you to know that if you ever need someone, I will be there. I will leave you to yourself now."

She leaned over and gave the young man a peck on the cheek, knowing that he probably wouldn't appreciate it, but that was her way. She rose off of the couch and went looking for Allie.

The reflective visor of the RAID agent hid the man's features and so Tim was unable to see the sinister smile forming. He had no intention of playing fair against a meta, and when he was sure that the man was off guard let loose his hidden weapon. With a flick of his wrist a CO2 driven micro missile was fired toward Tim, barely giving him enough time to raise a hand or step to the side. The device, however, was not intended to wound, it was timed to explode in a blinding flash with intent to blind his opponent.

The RAID enforcer's visor would automatically shield his eyes from the light. Even, if the meta did remarkably realize that the projectile was timed to explode in front of him with blinding light, he'd still have to shield his eyes for few seconds allowing the enforcer at least one free attack.

Shawn about jumped out of his skin when Mikala kissed him. A good few seconds passed in which he honestly didn't know what had happened. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt something like that. When he recovered however, he simply furrowed his brow, wiping his cheek off on his shoulder and saying nothing more. These people were weird.
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When Scavenger agreed to behave himself, Grey immediately assumed he was lying. But as he watched him cherry-pick what they needed, the assassin furrowed his brow. He had no idea who this stuff belonged to, but apparently they were enough of a threat to keep Scavenger in check. Grey first took what he needed of the clonadine before turning to his friend.

"OK . . . who does this stuff belong to?" he asked, "why are we not cleaning this place out?"

"Jeezus man! You wanna get your nut-sack served to you!" Exclaimed Scavenger, "All this shit belongs to the mob, gangs, anyone who counts on Stitch to put them together again. The guy's like there own personal Jesus f&$%*ing Christ." he explained.

Scav then hoped up onto a chair and sat on the back perched like a bird as he hunched over and started balancing on the two back legs with remarkable steadiness. "None of this is Stitch's, they just leave it here, man, 'cause no one, NO ONE, is f%#@ing stupid enough to rip him off. If anyone even looks at Stitch the wrong way one of many axes is going to be chopping at their balls!

"My cousin set this up for you. He recently broke out of a maximum security RAID prison; no one EVER gets out of those places alive, and he got out and brought along a few others with him." Scavenger announced proudly, "I put in a good word for you, and soon as he calls me back he'll let me know where he want's us to meet him. How's that sound, man? I mean, it's a sweet f*$%^ing deal he's offering. We do our thing as usual and anyone f$%^ with us and they're messin' with the gang! How sweet is that!"



Stitch came wandering back into the room with a large, half full bottle of gatorade in his hand. "Sounds like a sweet deal, until you gotta pay up." he commented in his monotone manner, "You see, once you're in their pocket, they got ya. They got by the short and curlies."

He shuffled past Grey, gulping down some more of his drink and grabbed a vial of some drug, then turned around and walked out. He looked positively wiped after healing Grey as he sluggishly sauntered down the hallway. "Gatorade guys." he said without turning around, raising the jug, "After you use metabilities... gatorade..." then he raised his other hand and shook the vial of pills, "centrophenoxine, chase them down with it. Works every time, well just about every time. Shit I'm tired. Night guys, just let yourselves out or crash, whatever." He disappeared around the corner and there was the sound of a door shutting.

Morgan came to again about the time Sigma entered the recovery room. She looked up at Toril, her lavender eyes lacking their energy. She knew something was different with her, but she didn't know what, all she knew was that she was horribly weak and she felt as if she were missing a piece of herself.

"Tim? Is he here? Has he made it back?"

She closed her eyes, finding it hard to keep them open. Forcing them open, she peered into Toril's face, her weak gaze demanding an answer.


******************************
Sasha was sticking close to Henry and Emma's store, waiting for the whole gang of hoodlum to return. She'd be damned if they were going to hurt the only two people on this earth she considered family. She hadn't known them long, but so far, they had been nothing but good to her and she wouldn't leave the old couple to fend for themselves against cold-hearted bastards like these gangs. No, she told them she would stick close and she always kept her promises.

She was still confused though, over the memory she'd had of that man she'd seen in the alley. She knew that she'd never seen him before, but he seemed so damned familiar. And then the spike in her energy. That had just been weird. Sitting in the alley behind the store, she munched on an apple when she found herself staring at an older man with a mean look on his face. He was hitting her.......only, it wasn't her. She couldn't tell where she was, only that she could feel a lot of pain in her legs. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the memory was gone, leaving Sasha with a feeling of severe confusion. She quickly checked her legs, fully expecting to see blood. Seeing none, she looked around, unsure as to what was happening to her. She could feel the pain in her legs, only.....they weren't her legs.

Running a hand through her long hair, she got up from her crouching position and headed back into the storage room of the store.

~Your losing it, girlfriend. First the guy and now some girl getting the crap beat out of her. And why could I feel it happening?~

She didn't understand what was going on, but she knew her first priority was Henry and Emma. If the gang struck, it would be within the next 2 or 3 nights. Sighing, she went up front to talk to Henry about a cot or something for her to sleep on after they closed up. She didn't want the jerk offs breaking in and destroying the only thing the elderly couple had to live off of either. So, she planned on sleeping here as well.

Tim heard the projectile, recochete off the side of the tunnel and spash to the wet floor. He instictively shut his eyes, concentrated and time seemed to stop. Tim then moved behind the R.A.I.D officer, ducked down behind him, turning away and shuting his eyes. Time snapped back and the flash grenade exploded. Tim could still see a bright light even though his eyes were closed and he was facing the opposite direction. As he opened his eyes, small stars flitted across his vision as he turned , slipped his knife under the stap and cut it loose. Grabbing the helmut he ripped it off the oficers head and flung it down the tunnel. Tim then took several steps back and said. "Well now hombre lets git this done. I'm right tard of messin with ya'all."

As soon as Stitch left, Grey gave Scavenger a hard punch in the arm.

"What the f%*&, man?!" he demanded, "I told you I didn't wanna be in nobody's pocket! I just gotta outta that same f%*&in' situation, man!" In spite of his own words, Grey shoved the pills into his pockets and peeked out the door as though expecting one of the big ones in charge to come raging in at that very moment. "C'mon," he said finally, "let's just get our shit and go."