John was still huffing and puffing when he turned to address Jasper.

You alright?. The big man asked.

You put yourself in the middle of this scrap, ya didn't have to, I appreciate it.

The mechanic went to put his cigar in his mouth only to discover that he had crushed it in the fighting, it hung limp and broken from his bloody left hand.

Son of a bitch! He grunted as he tossed it aside. He held his bruised hand out towards Jasper.

I'm John, John McManus.

'Didn't have to jump into the scrap...', Jasper would have never considered it and he cursed O'Mally for being right. The crime fighter had seen a lot in his eighty some years, or however old he was. Despite the guys aged, liver spotted skin, he still had somewhat of a build on him so it was hard to tell.

Surveying the causalities strewn about them, Jasper had a sense that it was all meant to be, as if his past had finally caught up with him in America. 'Only a matter of time', he figured and felt it was just as well that he teamed up with a pack when he appeared on RAID's radar.

He tucked his hand into McManus' giant mit, a wry smile forming on his pale face.

"A 'mick', eh? Well no one's perfect." He quipped at the big wrestler's heritage. Jasper had always felt one couldn't get much lower than a stinkin' gypsy Irishman from the slums and so always felt a little humour was entitled to him.

"The name's Jasper Flash, but back in Dublin the authorities started callin' me Ampere." The young man introduced, while noting the rough and calloused texture of the powerful hand that enveloped his. "I was hopin' 'Joy Buzzer' would'a stuck, but what can you do?"

Jasper then stood back and tipped his hat down slightly in greeting to the other two fighters. He'd never seen, meta's like them before, if in fact that's what they even were. He was beginning to have his doubts.

Bug felt the hand of his friend gently tugging on his arm and he turned to look at John. He nodded somberly and then looked back at the mush of what was once a head. He cleaned his hands off on the man’s uniform and then looking down he unclipped the man’s badge and stuck it in the pocket of his jeans as he stood up.

Bug’s shirt was absolutely shredded and he looked down at it with distain. Scanning the area he saw a smaller, though not as small as himself, RAID agent attempting to crawl out of the wreckage. Bug walked over, flipped him over and popped his helmet off. The man looked up, sheer terror in his eyes and he spoke with a shaky voice.

“Please… please don’t kill me. I have a family! Please!! I was just doing my job!”

Bug looked at the man, his soft pink eyes pulsing gently with his alien heartbeat. He grabbed the man by the scruff of the collar and brought him up so his mouth was next to the man’s ear. He started to whisper and the man’s face went quiet as he listened. After about 40 seconds he nodded as Bug pulled away and looked the man in the eye. Bug unclasped the man’s coat and slipped it off him gently, putting it on himself. Reaching down he unclipped the man’s badge and handed it to him, nodding silently. He turned to John and the others and only said two words in his strange, tinny accent.

“Let’s go.”

Bug barely looked at the newcomer, he wasn’t one for strangers. Even though this fellow had jumped into the fray and turned the balance way into their favor Bug would need considerable time before he would just welcome the man into their fold as quickly as John would. Bug knew this about John, and it never bothered him, it was just one of the ways that he and his mechanic friend were different.

Bug tapped John on his shoulder and pointed to a classic 1967 white Cadillac inside a mechanics garage across the street. He turned and looked at his old friend, a slight hint of a smile on his face. He knew John had a soft spot for classic Caddies, and if anyone could boost a car and drive them out of here, it was John. Bug himself hated cars, however given the situation and the faint sound of sirens in the distance he knew he had little choice in the matter of their escaping as quickly as possible.

John looked at the car parked in a fenced in area across the street, out in front of the garage was a White 1967 Cadillac Deville. John walked quickly to the gate of the tall chain link security fence that surrounded the garage. It was 8 feet high and topped with razor wire, the gate was padlocked with a large chunky masterlock. John palmed the padlock in his mech hand, he closed his fist around the device and it quickly fell apart, small metal pieces and tumblers fell to the ground.

John threw the gate open and walked inside to the car. He tried the door, of course it was locked.

Lord forgive me... The mechanic mumbled as he smashed out the driver side window and quickly opened the door. John slid behind the driver's seat and in a few short seconds had the car started, he put it in gear and drove out of the lot to where Bug Gabriel and Jasper where waiting.

The sounds of police sirens were getting louder as John put the soft top down on the old car. He did this out of respect for Bug, who could not abide traveling by automobile and John thought that having the top down might make the trip more tolerable for his friend.

More idiot cops'll be here any second fellas and this sweet thing has a full tank of gas. It'd be a shame if we didn't at least take her for a spin....

John sat behind the wheel of the old car grinning from ear to ear, he shot Jasper a serious look.

There's plenty of room Irish, choice is yours...

John looked down the street, flashing red and blue lights were coming close to the intersection, just across from the classic car shop.

Come on Bug, Gabe let's roll!...

John revved the engine loudly as his friends approached the car.

Jasper had kept his distance, debating whether or not to join up with the tight knit group of fugitives. For most part his life had been pretty normal since he came to America, of course now that was all going to change. He knew there was no going back the moment he assaulted a RAID officer, but it wasn't until he stood at the start of yet another endless road of running did it sink in.

McMannus' voice rumbled in harmony with the big block engine as he extended an invitation and as the flashing red's and blue's began to light up the battle scene, Jasper made up his mind right then and there. Straddling the door he landed in the back seat of the Caddy and tipped his hat to the 'mechanical' man.

Bug could see the look in his old friends eyes, John would hold onto this Cadillac for as long as possible. Bug nodded gently as the top dropped and jumped into the backseat. He was never much for cars, the feeling of moving so fast was nothing foreign to him, he could propel his body as fast as a car with no problems, but the feeling of sitting still while moving so fast combined with the rumble of the engine and the bumps in the road, it was something Bug had never gotten used to.

As John revved the engine Bug closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He could hear the sirens getting close and was prepared if necessary to respond should they need to, however given the events of the night he was hopping that they could just drive out of here, and put as much distance as possible between themselves and Chicago.

The man wasn't cracking. Gabriel scowled and let that glowing blade puff out in another burst of smoke. He kept the RAID agent pinned with his elbow, and used his now free hand to knock the man's helmet off. He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at the agent, speaking through gritted teeth.

"Know that any one of us could have made your remaining life a living hell... but, we didn't. Now... Back off."

He gave the man a shove to the chest as he rose to his feet, slowly taking a few steps backward, before sprinting over to where John, Bug and Jasper had the car waiting. Gabriel then extended those glowing wings and lofted upward a bit, flapping his wings to stay about 5 feet off the ground as he addressed the trio.

"Get moving, I'll follow from the air and run interference if I have to!"

John watched as Gabriel eyed the RAID agent, a look of true fear was on the man's face. Gabriel let the man go, he slid to the ground, his mouth hanging open.

John drove the Caddy to Gabe, Bug and jasper were already seated.

Suit yerself flyboy, jest be careful. John watched the winged hero take to the air with ease, anyone watching the skies on the southside of Chicago tonight would have some story to tell.

John turned to Jasper and Bug,
Time to go boys...
The mechanic dropped the pedal and the long old car flew down a side road, a few manic turns later John had left the scene of the fight and could not see any of Chicago's finest following.

Gabriel had a good wide view as he hovered above his friends, the cops had stopped at the intersection and were tending to the wounded RAID men. Ambulances and a large fire engine were arriving as well they pulled up next to the wrecked vehicles and began to treat the wounded and put the small fires out. Gabriels glowing eyes scanned the twilight Chicago skyline, in the distance the winged hero could see lights in the sky. Gabriel squinted in the fading light , yes there were lights, two military style fighter helicopters were approaching. The two airships were a half mile away, they were black in color and had very subtle identifiable markings. Gabriel hovered a second longer, now he could make out the markings : R.A.I.D. That was all, printed in white on the tails of the black helicopters.

The pilots saw the light that was Gabe, they made adjustments and set a course straight for the flying man.

Jasper was glad to get away from the scene of the crime and though he seemed calm on the outside his heart was still pounding out of his chest. He wasn't used to tangling with R.A.I.D. and they were a hell of a lot better trained than a typical cop and ten times as tenacious which was why he couldn't help looking over his should every few minute, expecting to see a fleet of black vehicles pursuing them.

Sitting in the middle of the massive back seat, Jasper leaned back and looked up into the night sky to occupy his mind. He watched the winged man, floating high above them like a neon-guardian-angel, drifting through the air. Too high for him he considered and besides it was far less of a strain to lounge in the back of a cadillac.

Glancing over to the passenger seat, Jasper couldn't help staring at the strange little man whose hair definitely wasn't hair, but appeared to be thick black cords that could move like appendages! Freaky and kind of creepy, he considered and now that he had a chance to get a good look at the man also noticed that his skin had a sheen to it, as if it were hard. It was also quite apparent that he wasn't enjoying the ride, of course he could have misread the guy's body language which he found a little alien.

The old Cadillac hummed as John kept the accelerator down, the mechanic blasted down side streets, rocketing past lazy traffic and yuppies on their cell phones. The big man seemed at ease behind the wheel, he held on to the steering wheel with one hand. He clicked the radio on, a Bruce Springsteen song came blasting through the old mono speakers.

Man that's a good old song! The mechanic yelped over the sound of the caddy's roaring engine. The mechanic flipped open the glove compartment, inside was a pack of cheap cigars.

The big man opened the pack and took one out and began chomping on it.
This is turning out to be a better day than I thought guys...

As 'Born to run' played loudly in the car John began to think of a good place for he and his friends to lie low, a place where they would be safe and off of RAID's radar, at least for a while.

John held the opened pack of cigars over his shoulder.
Fancy a smoke Irish?

John winked at Bug.
How about you buddy?
John knew Bug would decline but he offered anyway.

John cranked his neck around looking for a sign of Gabriel. John could no longer see the flying man in the crowded Chicago skyline, but he hoped his friend was close.

Jasper just smiled at the American as he delighted in old classic. The 'Boss' the yanks called him, not exactly his cup of tea, but the energy of the music was in keeping with the nights events.

When the big man presented the cigars, Jasper gladly took one. "Why thank-ya, John." he mentioned then leaned forward over the seat when he offered a light.

"Slaan-cheh", he said in the old tongue between puffs, then quickly translated, "Cheers, mate."

Looking back up into the night sky he could no longer see the winged man. He'd be alright, he convinced himself, then scanned the city streets trying to figure out where they were headed. Jasper hadn't been in the city long enough to find his way about easily, especially at night, but McManus seemed to know where he was going.

John kept the pedal down as he drove to a more industrial part of town, abandoned factory buildings and warehouses passed by as they drove. John drove into a large building, the large garage bay door was missing making it easy to pull the white Cadillac inside and out of sight.

John drove a little deeper into the large building and finally stopped the car.

The mechanic stepped out of the car, it's shock absorbers groaned as the weight of the big man lifted from the old car.

"Jasper, this is one of many places me and bug used to hide out at times, it ain't much but it keeps the rain off yer head..."
John walked around the open area, he pulled a few old milk crates together for seats. For himself John dragged a crushed steel drum over, a milk crate just wasn't gonna do it for the mechanic.

"I figure we oughta keep outta sight for at least a few hours, RAID will be everywhere looking for us, they won't give it up this time...especially with what happened with Bug and all."

John looked tired as he lit his cigar again.

"This is a good spot to hide out, if the Feds find this place there is a system of underground tunnels that lead to the riverside from here. Those mutts won't get the drop on us again, I ain't gonna let them lock me up again. You know, this last time was the third time they snatched me up? They arrested me back home in Jersey for the first time 6 years ago, then after the Riggs act and then last month. I'll be damned if I go with them again..."

John let this thought trail off, after a moment he spoke to Jasper.

"You ever tangled with RAID before Irish?"

Jasper straddled the crate set out for him with an exuberance that only youth could provide. He pulled out a flashy lighter and re-lit what remained of the cigar, took a long pull then leaned back, crossing on leg over the other as if he were relaxing in some high class lounge. He agreed with the plan. Best to lay low a while and throw the dogs of the scent, he knew the drill well.

"Never crossed RAID before." Jasper admitted, "Always figured it best to keep me wee arse outta there business. Back home they are far and few between, y'know? Usually dealt with common coppers. America, however, is grand on every level and RAID is the peacock. Seems they wanna show somethin' to the world and unfortunately the world is sittin' back and watchin' the example they set. If they kill off the remaining few us, other countries will follow suit. It will be a blood bath."

Jasper took another drag on the cigar and let out a long trail of blue smoke into the air as he scanned the ceiling then the rest of the warehouse. "This is a nice place you got here. I've done me time in such, but when it comes to prison I've never done any time. Lucky I guess." he mentioned then smiled, "But you're probably wonderin' why I'd come to the land of RAID, eh? It's a long and complicated story, but the short version is I over stayed me welcome in Dublin and the land lord has a long reach." he explained, then raised his arms out, "So 'ere I am."

The Irish meta, snapped his fingers and small electrical display flashed momentarily. "The police named me Ampere and it just caught on, but those from the street know me as Joy Buzzer. Back in the day, that was the extent of me ability, but then things changed. I became stronger and life became more complicated."

"Like I said Jasper, me an' Bug have used this hideout before, in the past other Metas have crashed here too, we have told a small number of 'em about this place. I don't turn any of our kind away if they need a hand up, I ain't no saint or anything but they are welcome to crash with us at this dump if they want."

John gathered up some odds and end to make a small fire in the drafty warehouse. The big man also went and grabbed some canned goods from a hidden stash place.

"It looks like beans and franks fer supper Jasper..." John smiled as he squeezed the cans open with his mech hand.

After a few minutes the small fire was going strong and the feast was warming on it.

"You got any family back home Irish? Ma or Pop or anything like that?"

John poked at the fire with a piece of scrap rebar he had scrounged up.

Jasper happily accepted a tin plate and cutlery from the big 'meta'. It didn't take long for the hobo's fare to warm and when John gestured for him to dig in the Irishman was quick to do so. He was famished. Using his electrical abilities took a heavy toll on his batteries — literally.

"Me parents were killed when as a boy." he answered as he chewed down a mouthful of beans and slice of banger and automatically, whether or not John showed sympathy he was quick to add, "I do not remember it, anyway, I'm no different than the other fifty thousand or so, Irish bastards. Casualties of violence, raised by the system, bla, bla, bla... You know how it goes? Been on the streets since I was twelve after I lit me drunk foster father up like christmas tree. I had warned him but I didn'a plan on it happenin', the wanker backed me up near an outlet and well, it was the last time he ever hit me, if'n ya can picture it."

Jasper told the story of killing his step father as one recapped the highlights of the work week. There was no remorse, there were no deep seeded regrets, just a memory.

"Damn fine meal, John!" Jasper complimented as he continued to chow down, he then looked across the flickering fire at the big man. So large and imposing was his frame that it turned the rustic scene medieval; the powerful warrior resting after the battle.

"Ya got any family, John?" he asked, probing the the large man's impassive features, "Were ye born here?"