Morgan woke to a tail tickling her nose. Giggling, she moved the little fox and sat up, grabbing her bag and rummaging through it. She began to search frantically, panic in her eyes.

"Where is it? What did I do with it?!"

Her notebook was missing, that was when she realized that in her anger at Tim, she'd forgotten to grab it when she'd grabbed her bag and stormed off of the back porch back at the safehouse.

"Great, now one of them, probably Tim, will find it and know of my plans for Frank and how I feel about Tim." She covered her face with her hands, knowing that there wasn't anything she could do about it now. She was more worried about what she wrote down about Tim than anything else.

She'd written down her innermost feelings and thoughts, her confusions, everything. Laying back down, the little fox once more curling up next to her, she tried to go back to sleep.

Frank caught up with Birkshire and his team about six hours later. He pulled into the diner which was just off of interstate #2 just a little after Rocky River in west Cleveland and added his black SUV to the others.

Birkshire was sitting with a few of his agents at window side booth when he saw the big man come striding into the nearly empty truck stop. He waved him over and one of the agents, shuffled over so that Frank was sitting directly across from the supervisor. Birkshire moved his eyes from the laptop and scanned Hunter's attire. "Nice." he commented, "You're looking better, Hunter." He then spun around the laptop around so that the new RAID operative could get a view of what was on the screen.

A picture of a strangely attractive woman with the skin of a snake appeared on the screen.



"This is Selena Withers, otherwise known as Slither." Birkshire began, "She's been on a killing spree along the coast of Lake Eire and we think it's because she's amphibian and needs to be around water. Her usual method of killing her victims is suffocation by constriction, apparently she's a sadist and enjoys a slow death. The first of her victims were truckers, lonely guys looking for a quicky who didn't notice the scales until it was too late, but it seems she's upped her game. We've now linked her to the deaths of a Mother of two, and thirteen year old boy." Birkshire paused and pulled a vial out of his breast pocket and discreetly handed it to Frank, who tucked it into his jacket pocket.

"That's her blood, mixed with an anti-coagulent, chase it down with what ever you got." Birkshire explained, "Once it's in your system, I've been assured by top experts that you will develop a link with the one it came from. I don't know how long the connection will last, but I am hoping you'll be able to track this murderer down in twenty four hours."

Birkshire then paused again debating his next move. He had always been reluctant to take on a meta-human partner, but it was becoming RAID protocol. They were losing this battle, and it was becoming a necessity to employ the talents of manageable mutants to bring the odds in their favour, but to Birkshire all meta's were just ticking time bombs. He had come across cases were seeming benevolent meta-human spontaneously developed mutations that killed their families and to him it an unrealistic risk to rely on these beings. Still, he come to admire Frank's conviction, even though it was a murderous one. More importantly he was confident that he would be able to reason with and control the man and that was what he was looking for in a meta-human partner. He just had keep up with the Angelic Hunter story, to appease his reality. There was no telling what Frank would do if he rationalized that he was a meta-human.

"So are we done?" Anxiously asked Frank as he started to slide out of the booth.

"Wait." Requested Birkshire as he hit a key on the laptop bringing up the pictures of four other meta-humans.



"We recently had a prison break at one of our maximum security meta-detention centres. Intelligence tells us that they are headed for Chicago, probably to payback the benefactor of their release. We suspect who it might have been, but he definitely had help from a computer expert of extraordinary talent. Now this is a bad one, Hunter and you could help us out immensely with your gift, but first we should concentrate on Slither then you can decide on working with me full time."

Birkshire had hoped for more of a reaction from Frank, but he couldn't tell either way whether or not he was game. "Slither is extremely dangerous, Hunter so I advise you to call us as soon as you have made contact." the supervising agent continued, "She's strong for her size, able to crush men twice your size, so don't let her get a hold of you. She also has a poisonous bite, it paralyses but if enough of it enters a person's system it could kill them. Our intel on her as also advised to watch out for a ranged attack; basically she can spit the poison at a person's eyes up to seven meters away, so keep them shut if she spits at you."

Birkshire slid out of the booth with Frank and extended his hand which the new operative cautiously shook. "Good luck, Hunter, and here you might want this." The agent handed a PDA to Frank, "You can use this to communicate with us among other things. In the right hand corner you'll see a green coloured symbol. Press it and type in 'Hunter' and it will activate a tracking device allowing us to find you just about anywhere."

(Wednesday, May 20, 4:00 pm, just west of Cleveland.)

Cassius moved smoothly and casually through the forest, his gun stowed and well hidden beneath his shirt. Smoking the last of his cigarette, he neared the area Morgan had described and paused when he heard something echo. He furrowed his brow and grew still, his hand drifting towards his gun. Surely he hadn't really heard what he thought he'd heard.

Looking around, Cassius moved a little slower now, his eyes scanning the trees and the shadows that danced around him. Finally, a sound stopped him once more and his lip curled now as there was no denying it.

A man's voice shouting "F#$&!" echoed over the path Cassius walked. The voice was rasped and coming roughly from where Morgan had said the young man lay injured and unconscious. Cassius stopped, standing straight and tossing the butt of his cigarette onto the ground, crushing it with his boot. He had been open to the idea that the young man would wake up, but he hadn't expected him to have the strength to shout obscenities, even when his voice did sound sick and exhausted.

"Dude..." Cassius muttered to himself. This had definitely thrown him a little. Now, with the idea of a trap in mind, he wasn't immediately sure what to do. There were many ways for a plant to try to lure them back to him, but this was certainly an unorthodox method. Cautiously, Cassius approached the spot, sliding back towards the shadows of the trees and avoiding the broad daylight. Peering through the trees and shrubs, he caught sight of the man and raised his eyebrows in surprise. The young man still lay on the ground, showing no signs of life save for an occasional convulsion that shook his body like a kind of seizure. Cassius rubbed his scruffy chin in thought. If the man was seizing then he likely had a head injury which would kill him in time without fast treatment. Still... Cassius had seen his share of serious injuries and something about these seizures didn't seem . . . right.

"Dude?" Cassius finally called, taking a half, sideways step towards the young man, his hand raising slightly towards his gun. The young man did not reply, finally settling and going limp again on the ground. Suddenly the unconscious man shouted again, startling Cassius to the point that he nearly drew his weapon.

"SHIT!"

Furrowing his brow, Cassius scratched his head and turned slightly towards where he knew Tim was following him in the shadows. "Hey dude," he stage-whispered, keeping his eyes on the young man in front of him, "what d'you make a'this one? I'm like, totally stumped, dude. Never seen that one before..."

Tim raised his wrist and spoke into the cuff mike of the secure radio link to Cassius's radio, his voice could be heard in Cassius's earpiece .... "Cassius, do'n go near that guy......ya'all jus' give 911 a holler, give em' tha location. Ya tell em' this guys have seizures an you ain't gota clue what ta do. When ya hear tha sirans ya shut down that damned cell phone an' git the hell outta thar, head north away frum tha safe house. Afta' yur a piec away ya get rid of thar cell phone. Stomp on it with yur boot, then meet me on tha ridge over ta the north yonder. I gots harses an we kin circle round to tha stables. Then beat it back ta the safe house an' git tha hell outa Dodge." ......... Tim pulled the 30-30 caliber Winchester deer rifle from it's sheath on the saddle. Knelt down and looked through the scope setting the cross hairs on the injured man's head, he thought to himself "One false move pardner, one twitch towards Cassius and I'll splatter yur brains all ovar them thar trees." Tim cocked the saddle gun, sending one of the five, 30-30 Caliber 150 grain hollow point rounds, into the chamber and knelt as motionless as a statue, his breathing slow and controled, with his finger inside the trigger guard, hovering just ahead of the trigger.

(Wednesday, May 20, 9:00 am, along a hiking trail, north of the safe house, Northeast of Troy New York)

Morgan woke a couple of hours later, having napped for awhile. She felt better, a little more energetic. The little fox had left earlier and she was alone again.

Picking up her bag, she crawled out of the little cave and stood up, looking around her. There was still some daylight left and she shouldn't waste it. Heading out again, she again thought of Tim and the others. She didn't know how far she'd already gone, but she'd been traveling most of the day.

Spotting a flowing stream that looked clear, she got a drink, splashed the cool water onto her face and filled her canteen. Looking about, she smiled, feeling safe inside the woods, knowing that Frank tracked her but wouldn't pinpoint her in here. She didn't know that he was already way ahead of her.

She didn't think it would take her a week to make it to Chicago. If she got lucky, she might go ahead and risk the highway, maybe even flagging down a bus. She didn't know yet, figuring she would just play it by ear. The goal was to keep Frank and Raid away from the group so they could make it to Chicago safely.

Looking southwest, she knew she had a long way to go before stopping again and started off again.

Wed. May 20, 2010 4:15 p.m. EST

A stiff breeze rustled the vibrant leaves of the forest and cooled Grey's skin. A raven, perched high above in a dead oak tree, swayed slightly in the wind and curiously eyed the fallen man. It was in the nature to scavenge and though the injured creature was indeed a man, the intelligent bird had the presence of mind to await its chance to alleviate any trinkets and even snatch a morsel of flesh if it fancied a nosh. With it's bird's eye view it spied, Cassius, and studied him. Anyone who didn't know any better would never question the presence of an opportunistic raven in the forest and those meta's who might know better, no matter how paranoid, would just consider the bird to be another one of Morgan's minions keeping an eye on the situation.

None would suspect that the bird was a meta called Scavenger. When he and Grey had failed to hook up, Stefan had decided to keep an eye on his old friend and he was glad he did. 'Christ, Grey! You got the livin' shit kicked right outta ya!', thought Scavenger as he shuffled about on the branch, acting the part of a bird and cautiously keeping an eye on his surroundings. He didn't know who the guy was skulking in the bush, but he hoped he would either give Grey some medical attention or get the hell outta here so he could take care of him.



Slate sat in his parked blue beater, a 1983 Chrysler Cordoba outside of an apartment block. It had been a couple of days since his last kill and Sigma was already itching to pursue another. The hunt itself was as stimulating as the inevitable end and he had already found his next victim, but he couldn't be sure if in fact the woman was a legitimate target. The Surfer had always hacked into the police database for him to ensure that any information he found by public media wasn't a setup, and so Mrs. Jenkins, who was evading murder charges for a second time because of post-partum depression would require some intense surveillance before he made his move.

Silicone Surfer had been a dependable colleague. He hadn't felt anything when she died, but now a week later he thought perhaps that he did miss her a little, he at least missed her computer talents and her late night raids of the pop machine in the kitchen at Green Street. She loved Mountain Dew and had told him she always imagined that anti-freeze would taste similar, to which Sigma had flatly assured her that it wouldn't and she just crinkled her nose and laughed. She didn't deserve to die like she did. The story was that she had fought back when the RAID agents busted into her home, but Sigma knew that she wasn't a fighter, she had a hard enough time prying open a can of pop let alone throwing her fist into the riot helmet of a RAID enforcer. She was definitely a victim, but who would have wanted to set her up? Silicone always stayed behind the scenes and people were hardly aware that she existed, and if they did none of them would have known her true identity. Joanne Keys. Sigma had always thought she looked like a 'Joe'. Guess he did miss her.

Slate started up his car, the big V8 rumbling loudly. He put the car in gear and made his way across town, to the scene of the crime. Something didn't add up, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

Yelena didn’t like how things were going. The group was crumbling once more. Why couldn’t Morgan realize safety was better in numbers? Especially if her psycho father was out there hunting her like she said he was. Frustrating didn’t even begin to explain how the Russian was feeling. As she packed the few meager things she had, thanks to Zoe, she would mumble something in her native language. While no one could understand what she was saying, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it wasn’t nice.

During her packing Yelena heard the answering machine pick the incoming call up and when she heard Toril’s voice, she actually smiled. So her gut feeling was right. It was him that made the flyers and left the business card at the printers. It would have been something she would have done, and based on that, she was able to put two and two together. She’d call him back when they were on the road so he would know what the plan was.

When Tim and Cassius came back Tim told her they had called for an ambulance for the injured man. When Tim asked where Morgan was, it was the shape shifters job to let him know she’d gone. Tim was fit to be tied and down right pissed, but Yelena told him if a head strong, young woman such as Morgan had her head set on something, there was nothing anyone, not even him, could do to stop her.

”Reminds me of other young, head strong woman you once knew.”

While Yelena had never met Tim’s wife, from what she heard of her and after spending a little time around Morgan, they appeared to be cut from the same cloth. When Tim calmed, they sat down with Zoe to get a game plan finalized.

As things were relayed, Yelena would type the info into Shawn’s interpreter machine so he would be kept informed of what they were doing. When he agreed to go to Chicago with them, Yelena was relieved. At least they would be able to keep an eye on him and help him how ever they could.

With a game plan finalized and a route picked out that Zoe found for them, it was estimated they would arrive in Chicago in a couple of days. In anticipation of the trek to the new location, Tim had the armored vehicle re-painted to resemble your run of the mill armored transport vehicle.

Once they got everything packed up, Zoe took the equipment she needed for the trip and loaded it into the armored vehicle. With Cassius’ help, they had the thing looking like a mobile command unit in no time. By the time everyone was packed and all the vehicles ready to go, they decided to travel at night as much as they could to avoid traffic jams as well as help them make good time.

As the sun was setting on the remote safe house in Troy, a caravan of three vehicles took off from the remote location and headed North West. Yelena decided to take to her bike a side a short distance behind the others and be rear look out while Tim took point and led the way. It would have been better if Morgan could have been with them, but they knew they would catch up with her eventually. At least everyone hoped so.

The first night of traveling went with no trouble what so ever. To the groups pleasant surprise, they stopped at a Motel 6 just outside Mentor, Ohio. It was roughly half way between Troy and Chicago. Securing two rooms on the far end of the motel, Tim parked the hummer and armored vehicle out of sight and made sure there was security on both. Yelena actually pulled her bike into her room for safe keeping. Giving Zoe and Cassius their own room, Yelena, Tim and Shawn shared a room.

After a meal of store bought pizza, the travelers settled down for the day to get some rest. When the sun was setting once more, the group was making preparations for heading out again when Zoe heard some interesting chatter on the system from RAID. Apparently there’s been a prison break from one of their secure facilities and they’re trying like hell to keep it on the down low. From what they can tell the escapees seem to be headed for Chicago. Zoe flashed the pictures of the escapees on the screen. Tim and Yelena glanced at the pictures and realized this escape wasn’t from dumb luck. Someone orchestrated this break out and did it beautifully.

But to make matters even MORE complicated, it seemed as though a rogue, meta-human called Slither was on a killing spree. As Zoe relayed the story about that, the group realized they were right in the middle of the killers hunting grounds. Did they dare take a chance of getting involved to help the people of this community or did they continue to move along?

Yelena voted to move along stating they couldn’t take the chance of it being some sort of ploy from RAID to flush out the escapees or any other meta who wanted to be a good citizen and stop the killer. With her voice in the matter stated, she walked over to her bike that now sat between the hummer and armored vehicle to let the others decide what they wanted to do. She’d do what ever the group decided to do but she felt in her heart they needed to make it to Chicago and soon. Sitting and waiting for the others, she pulled out the secure cell phone Zoe had given her and a crumpled piece of paper with the phone number Toril left written on it. Dialing the number, she heard the phone ring and waited for the Norwegian to answer. As soon as she heard his voice, she felt her heart skip a beat and she couldn’t help but smile. It was really him on the other end of the phone and he was safe.

”Privet, Toril. Kak vashi dela?” (Hello, Toril. How are you?)

When the big man answered back he was fine, she chuckled softly.

”I was glad to get message from you. Very clever leaving it the way you did. I just wanted to let you know we are on way to you. I not want to just show up on door step unannounced. Is very rude. We can find you at place on business card, da?”

Morgan had been going not stop for the second day now, only stopping long enough to eat what little she had, drink, and rest. She'd made it farther than she had expected having gotten lucky when she came across a couple, Sandy and Bill, early in the afternoon who were out hiking while traveling through the forests just on the eastern side of Ohio. Wearing her sunglasses and making up a story of having become seperated from her nature group, they agreed to take her as far as they could, which was just outside Cleveland, Ohio. Luckily, they were finishing up their camping/hiking trip and were getting ready to head home. They would reach Cleveland later that night.

Dropping her off outside of the city, she assured them that she would be okay when their cell phone rang and it was Sandy's sister. She needed her sister to keep an eye on her kids while she made a run to Chicago to pick up her truck-driving husband who'd been in an accident. Morgan couldn't believe her luck when the young woman, Sarah, agreed to let her ride along with her, saying that it would be good company and she could help keep her mind off of her husband's accident.

Once on the road again with Sarah, Morgan kept her sunglasses on so as not to startle the woman, chatting nicely to her as they drove on, stopping only for pitstops. Sarah, it had turned out, was married to a registered meta-human, which made Morgan feel more at ease, but she still kept the sunglasses on. Little did Morgan know, but she passed the motel where the others were staying as they were getting ready to leave.

Early the next morning, Sarah dropped Morgan off on the outskirts of Chicago, in the east central part of the city. Morgan looked around, hoping that her plan had worked and the others were safe.

It was now time to put her plan into action.

Friday, May 22, 2010 4:00 a.m.

As disgusting as it was, Frank drank down the small vial of blood and chased it down with a pepsi before heading on to Chicago to track this Slither as quickly as possible so that he could get back to tracking his demon slut of a daughter.

Reaching Chicago late on the 21st, he found himself a nice Holiday Inn and relaxed before his hunt would begin the next morning.

When Grey's mind finally pushed through the fog, all he sensed at first was a dull but strong pain coursing through his entire body. For a split second, he wondered if he would survive, figuring he had surely been run over a few times with a very heavy truck. When he managed to move a few muscles and a violent tic shook his body painfully, he knew was indeed alive. A sharp stab rushed out from his cracked ribs and he grimaced, curling slightly inward as he laid a hand over his tender side. He had something for this. . . and now he had every excuse in the world.

Not noticing the bird in the tree above him, Grey reached gingerly into his battered and now bloodied pocket and pulled out the small, orange bottle that rattled with a few remaining prized blue pills. It was too painful to sit up, but he managed to drop one into his hand and toss it back before laying back down against the soft earth and waiting for the pain and the worry to disappear.

Frank rose early, his 'angels' humming to him, letting him know that Slither was close by. He made quick work of his shower, shaving, and dressing, leaving his hotel room and heading for the lake area. Grabbing a quick breakfast along the way, he smiled. The humming was getting stronger and that made him happy. Hopefully, he'd find Slither, contact Birkshire and get back to looking for Morgan before the day was over.

Once he reached the lakefront area, he followed the 'angels' voices to an abandoned house along the lakefront. It had taken him most of the morning to locate her, but he knew she was in there.

Looking around, he silently made his way up to a window, peering in through the dirty glass, just barely able to see inside. She was asleep on an old worn out couch and it was definately Slither. He quietly stepped away from the house, going back to his SUV a block away and called Birkshire. He told him exactly where she was and that she was asleep, from what he could tell, on a couch in the living room. "When you go in the front door, the couch is to your left, about 10 feet from the door.........yea, okay, you're welcome.....I'm finding Morgan, but I can still help you find the others if you have some of their blood."

Hanging up with Birkshire, Frank became alert, looking around. Morgan...she was here. His smile could have frightened Lucifer himself if he'd seen it.

~Finally, I have her.~

And, he knew exactly where to take her. He'd seen an old, abandoned small brick building, looked like it may have been an old factory of some sort, and it was perfect. It was on south Green St. a pretty seedy area where noone would care if they heard her scream.

He climbed into the SUV and headed for a hardware store up in the warehouse district near Green Street. Walking into the store, he quickly found what he was looking for. Duct tape, 5 feet of medium dog chain, 30 feet of 3/4 inch rope, a box of roofing nails, and had a board cut into a 3 inch wide, 1 inch thick, 4 foot long board. He also purchased a 6x6 foot dog cage, a tool box, hammer, screwdrivers, wrench and ratchet set, and different sizes of master locks with keys.

Heading back to the old brick 2-story building, he broke inside, looking around finding the best place to set up at. He could see the back of the building as the ground floor was just one big room. He headed back to the rear of the building, glad that it was pretty bare except for a few tables and chairs, a few printing machines, and a bathroom, setting up the cage in a corner. Next, he pulled over a table and laid out the things he'd bought at the hardware store, pounding 6 nails into one end of the board so that they went clear through. Smiling at his paddle, he set it down, put one of the locks on the back door, locking it from the inside, then went out the front door, puttiing a lock on it as well using the dog chain to help secure it.

Climbing into the SUV, he left to go collect his demonic daughter.

Friday May 22, 2010 3:30 in the afternoon.

A bay door slid open and the Bronze Devil's 1942 Dodge Carry-all, pulled out of the abandoned warehouse on Randolph street, the location where the Meta-Resistance of Green Street Base parked their vehicles. The old Dodge which was usually grey and white, now had a custom red and orange paint job with a sign on the side of the doors that read, 'The Devil Made Me Do It Taxi Service'. It was just one of the many disguises that the Bronze Devil could make with the push of a button, although the shape and make of the vehicle was pretty distinct. He had stolen the technology from an advertising company who were planning to revolutionize the market by introducing a silicone paint that could carry a video signal and play media or transfix a specific image within it.

Gabriel had just dropped off Russel who believed that he would have a better chance of finding Morgan if stayed at the underground facility and the resistance had been very accommodating to their Haida brother. Toril had thought he would tag along for the ride, secretly though he was kind of hoping they might have another run in with Amazon, although a more peaceable one. He mused to himself at his unrealistic imaginings and as he looked toward Gabriel, with his chiseled profile outlined by deep purple remnants of the sunset, the original theme of John Carpenter's Halloween sounded in his pocket.

Toril was glad that they just pulled out of the warehouse since it had signal blockers wired all through it. The call display was blocked but he had a pretty good idea who it was and wasn't surprised to hear Yelena's voice. His Russian was okay, but he reverted to English and she told him that they were only about another four or five hours away as the crow flies and was wandering where they should meet.

"I think we'll have plenty of time to catch some comedy at the Devil's Grin once you've settled in." Quipped Toril, "I think that once you get into the city, you guys shouldn't waste any time and go straight to the..." Toril paused, then turned Gabriel, "Hey is your scrambler on?" He asked him, "All the time." Replied Gabriel, then he resumed his conversation confident that no one could eaves drop on their conversation since he knew that Yelena's phone was definitely secure. "Sorry about that, Yelena, you can never be too careful, what with big brother out there listening in. As I was saying, I think you should go straight to the Green Street Base. You gotta pen handy?"

Toril relayed all the information they would need to find the place and described the warehouse at 1001 Randolph Street where they would be able to park their vehicles. He told them where to find a hidden keypad and what the code was for the bay door, also ensuring her that the building was extremely secure and there were many places for them to park once they were inside. He then described in great detail where to find the secret door that lead to a slanted tunnel that took them underground and to the West Door of the base.

"When you get to the door, just mention where you're from and that Bronze Devil can vouch for you, they'll know the rest." Finished Toril, "Besides, I think I overheard that your friend, Killswitch was going to be filling in for the late Silicone Surfer. If she hasn't told you yet, their former controller met her untimely end at the hands of RAID."

That was yesterday and today Toril was taking care of personal business. He didn't know, how long he was going to be staying in Chicago and so he had quite his job in British Columbia and was now sitting in some guy's kitchen drinking a Sam Adam's. The guy was a friend of Gabriel's who was setting Toril up with a fake I.D. so that he would be able to stay under the wire while he got a job. Toril wasn't exactly made out of money and though he had his home up in Canada paid for, he still had to pay the bills, one of the realities faced by many crime-fighters but one that he believed gave them character.

An hour, two more beers and a bathroom break later. Gabriel and his unnamed friend emerged from basement with a piece of I.D. that would fool the most seasoned of detectives. Toril's new name was Devon Gale, age 33 from Seattle, Washington, where he had previously lived for eleven years so he was familiar with it. The name had a nice ring to it, and Toril liked the hidden meaning of the last name; Bronze did enjoy his little jokes.

Toril checked the time, and considered that Yelena, Cassius and the other members of their group should be getting into the city pretty soon, so he and Bronze hight tailed it over to the Green Street Base.

Once the group decided to let the local authorities handle the serial killer, Yelena finished her conversation with Toril. It was good to hear his voice and hear for herself he was in good spirits. And in the company of an friend. Handing the instructions Toril had given her to Zoe so she could program the GPS unit to feed the info to their vehicles, she and Tim decided to get the group moving once more.

Yelena was disturbed to hear Silicone Surfer had met her demise at the hands of RAID. While she didn’t know the woman personally, she knew what it was like to be hunted and the tactics RAID used. Hopefully the woman didn’t suffer and her end was quick. But what worried her even more was the fact Killswitch was going to take Silicone’s place. Zoe was more than capable, yes, but if RAID got to Silicone, what was stopping them from reaching Killswitch?

As Tim settled up with the motel clerk, Yelena put her helmet on and fired up her Hyabusa to let the engine warm up. Zoe’s monotone voice came over the ear piece and told them the route had been programmed in that should take them right up to the door of the warehouse they could park the vehicles. Once there, it was a piece of cake to the safe house.

As Tim fired up the hummer and Cassius got the armored vehicle ready, the trio of vehicles headed out and Yelena took up her rear point a little behind the other vehicles to make sure they were clear and free. The air along the lake was cooler and she was glad she took the time to actually wear a real leather jacket and gloves or her hands would be freezing.

Once they were out on the road, they had a fairly smooth trip once more. As the lights of Chicago came into view, they stopped at a truck stop to go over things for a final time. If things went well, which Yelena was confident it would since things had gone well so far, their next stop would be the warehouse the vehicles would be parked.

As they entered the heart of the city of Chicago, Yelena realized something. New York could no longer hold claim as the “city that never sleeps”. At one in the morning, Chicago was just as lively as New York. Neon lights lit up the streets like daytime and the traffic, while not near as busy as the daylight hours, was still quite heavy.

Weavig their way through the city, Zoe’s GPS coordinates took them right to the warehouse. Once there, Yelena parked the bike long enough o find the secret keypad and key in the code Toril had given them. When all the vehicles were in the warehouse, Yelena closed the bay door once more. Toril was right. There was plenty of space for their vehicles. Once they parked and secured the vehicles, Yelena followed Toril’s instructions to the door that led to the underground tunnel.

When they reached the door, Yelena knocked on the door and waited. Within moments the locks were released and the door was opened. She came face to face with a handsome, young, Asian looking man. He smiled warmly and Yelena found herself at a loss for words right away. Finally she recovered and gave a small smile of her own.

“Privet…”

Realizing she had reverted to her native language she shook her head and started over again.

“Hello. I am Yelena. This is Tim, Zoe, Cassius and Shawn. We come from Troy, New York. Bronze Devil can vouch for us. May we come in, pazhaluista. Please?”

He nodded and opened the door wider for them. Yelena looked beyond him as she slowly stepped into the safe house and saw a young, beautiful African American woman with long corn braids. Nodding slightly and giving another small smile to her, Yelena once more did the introductions.

Kekoa smiled back at them as he opened the door, stepping aside to let them in before he shut it quietly behind them.

“Two languages at once,” he pointed out with a dreamy smile, “kind of makes me feel my brain…” As Yelena introduced them, Kekoa waved a hand at them in one collective motion.

“Kekoa,” he said as he moved along the edge of the room and leaned his bare back against the wall, balancing on one bare foot to scratch his leg with the other. Curled up in a chair, the young black woman unfurled herself as he eyes fell on Killswitch and Cassius.

“Glad to see you, Killswitch,” said Seizure before nodding to the rest. “Nice to meet you all,” she managed a somewhat shy smile as she got to her feet. “We were expecting you. Come on, follow me. We’ve got places you can sleep. You’re probably exhausted.” As she led the way, she suddenly paused, glancing over at Kekoa with a somewhat quirked brow. “Hey, can you at least put a shirt on?” Kekoa looked down at his defined and tattooed muscles, a faintly interested expression on his face as though he had just noticed his own body.

“Hmm… I guess,” he replied nonchalantly, “it is a bit breezy down here.” Seizure shook her head almost imperceptibly before she continued on up the stairs and led them into the complicated hideout. Kekoa brought up the rear and smiled at Cassius who lit a cigarette and nodded at him.

“Dude. Long time no see,” he said.

“Indeed,” Kekoa replied, “you look the same… only your face is a little more colorful.”

While Ayana gave a sort of tour of the place, pointing out bathrooms and bedrooms and the kitchen, Shawn kept a light hand on Yelena’s shoulder, feeling out her every movement and so far doing well not to trip. He was tempted to turn on his powers just to ease the mental puzzle of so many transitions, but then he wasn’t quite sure where they were or who they were with. Plus, he was very aware of how shocking his powers looked and didn’t want to cause any trouble from these strangers.

Everything about this house was different. It smelled like dust and metal and the only hint of cigarette came from Cassius, behind him. The two people leading them were clearly a man and a woman. The woman smelled like any other girl—soft fragrances of hair products and soap. The man smelled like water, salt, and faintly of earth—like an organic food store or something. Every five steps, it felt like they were turning or going up or down another flight of stairs and this made him let out a barely audible sigh of annoyance. After safe houses and hotels and everything else, he really didn’t want to have to try to navigate this labyrinth, but at the same time, he didn’t want help either. His vision did little to help as he could see straight through walls and had been known to walk right into thin ones.

Keeping his head down, his heavy-lidded eyes stared into nothingness, following the slight sway of his head. With one hand lightly on Yelena and the other on his device, he managed to navigate along with the group until he underestimated a step and finally stumbled, knocking hard into Yelena and sending her forward into Zoe who then bumped into Seizure.

As Seizure turned to say “watch your step,” she faltered, finally noticing Shawn and his mannerisms. At this, she furrowed her brow, reluctant to ask as it would sound rude if she were wrong. Zoe, however, read her expression and answered before she had to ask.

“Yeah. He’s blind… and deaf,” she said. At this, Seizure’s eyes widened, flicking back and forth between Shawn and Zoe. “You… you didn’t mention that… he’s a meta?” Zoe nodded and Ayana seemed at a loss for words, so many questions mulling over in her mind before she finally stood straighter and cast one more uncertain glance in Shawn’s direction.

“Well, if you brought him, you must have things under control, knowing you,” she said finally.

“I do,” Zoe replied flatly. While this didn’t seem to satisfy Seizure completely, she felt comfortable enough to at least turn back around and continue guiding them to a set of rooms tucked well away in the safe house. Turning to face them all now, Seizure glanced again at Shawn and suppressed a silly urge to speak louder as she addressed them.

“You guys can sleep here. They’re pretty much the same as the rooms in New York. Remember that escape route I’ve been showing you? There’s an entrance right there,” she pointed to an empty wall. There was a pause as she surveyed them all before she finally shrugged and stepped aside. “I guess I’ll let you guys get settled and rest. Let us know if you need anything. Sigma and Ultramarine should be back soon.” She turned and caught Kekoa’s eye who smiled and nodded at them before drifting smoothly away down the hall.

Morgan was at a loss as where to go. Looking around, she saw that she was near the lake and decided to head north west, heading up into the warehouse district. She had to find a pay phone and call Yelena, tell her that she was okay. She didn't know if Tim would want to know or not, so she decided to leave it up to Lena on whether or not to tell him. She felt a little guilty at doing this, knowing that her Aunt Jackie would scold her for treating Tim like this.

By mid afternoon, she'd made it to the outskirts of the warehouse district, walked into a park nearby and sat down to figure out what she was going to do. She was getting hungry and thirsty, but that would come later. Seeing a payphone, she walked over to it, calling Yelena collect, hoping that she would accept. She was relieved when she did.

"Hi Lena......yea, I'm okay....I'm here already, in Chicago.....no, I was able to get a ride......I'll meet up with you all in a couple of days, I have something I have to take care of first.......yea, Lena, it's Frank.......no, I have to stop him, so long as he can track me I can't come back........dammit, Lena.........he's working for RAID!!!.......I don't know what you can tell Tim.......tell him.....tell him......tell him I'll see him in a couple of days.....no, I'll call you......yes, I'll check in tomorrow....I promise....around noon I'll call you again...bye, Lena."

Morgan hung up, close to tears, wondering if she'd ever see them again, wondering if she'd ever see Tim again. But, she had to do this.

Heading back over to the bench in the park, she thought about what it was she was going to do. She would have to wait for him to come to her, which she didn't think would take very long. Little did she know, just how right she was.

After an hour or so, Morgan got up and headed for a McDonald's she'd seen. She still had that three dollars so she could get something to eat from the dollar menu. Once she had her double cheeseburger and coke, she went back to the park and sat down amongst a small grove of trees, eating.

May 22, 2010 2:45 p.m.