Teaming Up
(Chapter 3)

August 31^st, 8:30 pm, PDT
San Francisco, California

         Fox Parker pulled up in front of a mansion in Pacific Heights.  “Okay.  We’re going to switch cars then I’m going to drop you off anywhere you want to go.” 

         “What should I call you?” asked Karla. 

         “Fox Parker.  You?”

         She smiled inwardly.  “Now, now… a girl has to have her secrets.  Maybe if we meet again, I’ll tell you.  You never saw me, okay?” 

         “You did good.  A little too confident at gunpoint, though.  You need to be more careful,” Fox told her.  “As in, stay away from people like that in the future.  Oh and sorry about calling you a whore earlier.  That was just me playing a role.”

         “It’s all good, babe.  So… promise me you won’t tell anyone what I look like.” 

         “Pardon?”

         Karla reached up and pulled the nylon stocking from his face, so that it stopped beneath his hairline.  “Aren’t you a looker?  Just like your daddy was.  Look.  I can’t tell you anything about me.  So.  To be straight: don’t tell anyone that you picked up a busty young blond with pink nails and lips… and I promise I won’t tell anyone that Jon Parker and his son are thieves planning to steal from robbers who just claimed to have a nail from Christ.  Deal?”

         “Wait, how did you…?”

         “Honey,” Karla smiled brightly.  “Like I said.  A girl has to have her secrets.”  She reached forward, cupped either side of Fox Parker’s face and leaned forward until her lips met his.  The succubus ran her fingers back and fisted the short brown hair at the nape of his neck as she kissed him.  After a moment to enjoy it, Karla broke the liplock then said, “There.  We sealed our promise of silence with a kiss.” 

         “Wow.  What, uh… what was that for?” 

         Karla smiled.  “Because you’re one of the good guys, sweetheart.  Plus I’ve always wanted to kiss a Billionaire.  Not to mention the son of a retired celebrity athlete.  Listen… things are going to get really weird.  Just go along with it all, okay?  I’m going to take the body on my shoulder while you drive the van into your daddy’s big ole car garage.  Okay?  Then you’re going to blink or look away or whatever… and I’ll be gone with the body.  Don’t ask questions or think too hard about what happens next.  Just go meet your daddy and have some ice cream.” 

         “Whoa, hold up.  How did you know my father likes ice cream after a job?”

         Karla laughed and shook her head.  “Like I said, hon, don’t ask questions.  You never saw me.”  She slid out of the front seat of the van and walked around to the rear doors then took the body out by his legs.  She hefted the corpse up onto her shoulder and said, “Don’t worry.  No one will see me with this guy.  Just trust me.  Remember: don’t ask questions, Fox.  Now.  Stay out of trouble.” 

         He leaned out the driver side window and said, “This is the most unorthodox…” 

         Karla laughed in a good-natured way and said, “Just pull forward and hide this thing in that big ole garage of yours.  Go on!” 

         She waited until Fox pulled into the garage then she moved to the left, away from the garage door.  “So, that’s where J. Conner Parker lives. The irony is just killing me.” With a smile, Karla vanished into thin air, the body still slung over her shoulder. 

X

X

September 1^st, midnight
San Francisco, California

         Nathanial Carrington drew his foot back then kicked the door.  His leg glowed with the power of a lightning bolt.  The door flew off its hinges; sparks showered the floor of the old church.  He looked around. 

         The pews were missing.  A group of bodies lay piled up in disarray surrounded by six men in black military-style gear.  Nathan walked in, playing it Bogart.  In a dry and tired voice, he announced himself to the room.  “Hey.  You boys weren’t invited to this Speakeasy.” 

         “Look at this old guy,” said one of the mercenaries.  He held his hand up to the other five and said, “I’ve got this.”  He walked towards Nathanial and said, “You either walk away or I’ll kill your ass, old man.” 

         “You gunna make me?” Carrington snorted in amusement. “Why don’t you come a little closer and say that to me?  Then we’ll see if I don’t slap that silly grin right off your face, huh?” 

         The other five men circling the bodies began to laugh, taunting their friend.  “Go on!” one of them shouted, “You going to let that geezer talk to you like that!?” 

         The leader of the pack drew his arm back and approached the elderly man.  He swung his fist.

         Nathan, surprisingly spry for his old age, captured the mercenary’s fist in his palm.  “My turn, punk.  And when you’re slapped you’ll take it and like it,” he growled.  Nathan’s free hand incandesced with a white light.  He drew his palm back and brought it across the mercenary’s face, electrocuting the man instantly.  The thug in black gear dropped to the ground, twitching. 

         A crooked grin tugged at the old man’s face.  “Alright.  Which one of you fairies is next?”

         A female voice rang out from behind him.  “Well that was an unclassy thing to say, Nathan.”

         Nathanial glanced back at Karla and smirked.  “I mean that as in wimpy little pixies.” 

         Karla yawned, stepping into the church.  “I’ve seen fairies that will kick someone’s ass; and I don’t mean one of The Bears – I’m talking about an actual fairy.  There’s some weird stuff out in the fields and forests of Europe, babe.” 

         Nathan rolled his eyes and turned back to the other five men.  “You just going to watch me, girl?  Fine.  Sit down on that bubbly little tush of yours and see how it’s done, kiddo.” 

         Her scoff melted into a chuckle.  “I heard you in here quoting Sam Spade and I knew things were about to get interesting.” 

         Carrington eyed the men, who drew their weapons.  He held his hands out and, from his left palm, an energy weapon formed, taking the shape of a scythe.  “What do you know about quantum entanglement, kid?” 

         Karla furrowed her brows.  “Excuse me?” 

         “Watch this.”  He approached the nearest man and shoved him back into the other four.  Once Nathan touched the gunman, he flinched.  After the mercenary fell back into the other four, they all flinched.  “You can’t physically see it, but now they’re all entangled.  Keep watching.” 

         “Yeah, yeah. Impress me,” she said, hands on her hips. 

         Nathan drew the sickle back then swung his arm outwardly.  The scythe diced through the neck of the nearest mercenary.  Due to entanglement on the molecular level, the attack offered the same results to all five men at the same time.  All five mercenaries dropped to the floor, their heads separated from their bodies at the throat.  

         Karla stooped over and looked at the man who had been decapitated by Nathan.  She walked over to the other four men, inspecting their cauterized necks.  “Holy shit.  You only attacked the one.  How’d the other four get killed the same way?” 

         “When I touched the one, I shoved him into his buddies.  Everyone that my guy touched became entangled with him on a level that’s explained best by science.  I have electricity control and I’ve got a grasp on quantum mechanics so I could get the most out of my ability.  Whatever I did to one happens to everyone he became entangled with.  Haven’t you ever talked to your friend Methos or Isaac about this sort of thing?” 

         Karla circled the group of dead mercenaries then looked back at Nathan and shrugged.  “Not about this sort of stuff.  Oh, and Isaac has changed his name to Steven Milford back in, like, 2010.  I guess you didn’t get the memo, Nate.”  Her eyes flitted back to the five bodies and the twitching, unconscious sixth man.  “What’re we gunna do with this last guy?” 

         “Information on this Aris Falcon slob.”  Nathanial smiled somewhat.  “Yeah, I knew Isaac changed his name.  I’m just used to his old one.  I keep forgetting.  Karla, do you want the spotlight on this guy?” 

         The succubus beamed and nodded. “How about you give me an actual spotlight?”

         Nathan eyed her for a moment then nodded.  “Well, alright.”  He brought his hands together as if palming an invisible globe.  The gap between the thumb and forefinger of each hand began to incandesce with a focused ball of illumination. 

         The remaining mercenary squinted through the eyeholes of his mask, woken by the heat.  Karla folded her arms and began circling the man.  “Okay, pal.  Get up on your feet.” 

         The last surviving mercenary ignored her.  Karla reached for his ski mask and pulled it off, exposing his face.  “Now get up.” 

         The man ignored her, staring through the pair in silence. 

         “Okay, tough guy.  It’s cool.  I get it.  You think you’re going to die no matter what because that’s what you would do if the situation were reversed.  Newsflash:  We’re not like you.”  She lifted her right hand from where her arms were crossed beneath the ample swell of her breast.  Her palm glowed with a pink hue just beneath the skin. 

         The mercenary levitated from where he sat on the floor until his feet hovered several inches from the tiles.  Karla continued to circle him.  “So, you and your buddies work for this guy, Aris Falcon.  Who is he?” 

         The man continued to ignore her.  Nathan smirked.  “Easy there, tough girl.  Don’t hurt him with your fierce interrogation methods.” 

         “Give me a break,” she snapped.  Karla unfolded her arms and retrieved her phone from her handbag.  She held it up and took a picture of his face.  She held her free hand three inches away from the phone screen then made a gesture in mid air, above the front-facing camera.  The display changed.  She faked a yawn.  “Let’s match his picture to other photographs on the internet and see if we get a facial match.  Shouldn’t take long.” 

         Nathanial smirked.  “I’m one step ahead of you, kiddo.  He’s a San Francisco police officer.” 

         The mercenary’s eyes cut to Nathan and grew wide.  “Why would you say that?” 

         “Because,” Nathanial murmured, “I’m familiar with this song-and-dance routine, young man.  And I know for a fact that you’re a cop, kid.  I don’t know what precinct.  I don’t know what badge number or if your commanding officer is in on this… but I know you’re a cop because I’m smart for an old man.” 

         Karla eyed him then glanced back at her phone screen.  “You’re a showoff.  Nobody likes a showoff.”  She turned the phone screen to the hovering mercenary and smiled.  “There’s you.  Lookie here, you’ve got two hundred friends on Facebook and a sister in Seattle.  Born in 1996, in a relationship but it’s ‘complicated.’  Well…” Karla pulled the phone away from the mercenary’s face.  “Not as complicated as the situation you’re in right now.  So.  Unless you want me posting this on your wall and tagging you… with bodies in the background and five decapitated buddies over your other shoulder… then you should talk to us about your superior.” 

         “Just kill me,” he said.  “I’m not sayin’ shit.” 

         Nathanial laughed.  “You talk a tough game, but I know that’s a bunch of bullshit, kid.  You’ve never been trained for torture resistance.  Karla,” Nathan nodded to the floor.  “Find a pebble and go a fraction of a centimeter deep.” 

         The demoness leaned down and found a stone in the shoe of the next nearest body.  She held it up on her finger.  “See this tiny speck of a rock?” she asked the levitating man.  It disappeared from her finger. 

         The mercenary shouted, gasped for air then shouted again, louder.  Karla reached up and plucked the pebble from where the flesh of his lip met the camber beneath his nose.  “I teleported this little guy into your skin, but not deep enough to be lost.” 

         A speck of blood beaded up, the size of a pimple, just above his top lip.  Karla held the stone up, even with his left eye.  “This could be used as an ice pick beneath your fingernails.  Oh, and have you ever passed a kidney stone?  I can think of imaginative places to put it.  I’ve been told the suffering is ‘beyond miserable.’  So.  Who is Aris Falcon?” 

         The man’s eyes glistened with moisture, mostly from the pain of having had the pebble pierce the sensitive flesh of his top lip.  “We work for a woman named Krys Monroe.  She lives with Doctor Falcon and her girlfriend.  The team has been training for four years; this has been my ancillary for a year and a half.  He’s called this the Silent Inquisition.  Certain targets are to be brought to him, but most have to be killed.  I’ve seen what they can do.  I don’t know how or why the Government has hid the truth of your existence for so long, lady, but now they provide the paychecks we collect in this goddamned war.  I don’t know how high up this goes.  That’s all I know.  That’s everything.  If you’re going to kill me, then do it like you did to my team.  Don’t torture me.” 

         Karla huffed.  “The Silent Inquisition?  That’s what I called it, yesterday.  I should have trademarked that term.  Dammit.”  She flicked the pebble away.  “Are they all cops?” 

         “No,” said the mercenary, struggling to test the restraining bonds of the telekinetic field around his body.  “Some are retired military guys.  Some are cops.  Some are mercenaries that used to work internationally.  It’s bigger than America, too.  There’s a commanding officer in each division. Monroe presides over the groups in central and south California.  But because she lives with Doctor Falcon, she’s extremely respected.” 

         “Yeah.  I’ve met her.” Karla put her phone back into her handbag and folded her arms again.  “She’s not so tough.  So, what field is Doctor Falcon a doctor of?”

         “I… I’m not exactly sure but it’s not medical that I’m aware of.” 

         Nathan cut his gaze to Karla.  “He’s a geneticist.  Almost as old as me, but not quite as pretty as I am.”  A toothy grin formed then the old man turned to the mercenary and asked, “Have they given the order to pull out and head east, yet?” 

         “What…?  No.  Orders are to hunt and terminate anyone with abilities.  At the rate we’ve been going, there won’t be any work left by November.  So I’m working as many hours as I can before it’s gone.” 

         Karla snorted in amusement.  “You’re hourly?  And you pass time by hunting?  Man.  What a great gig; I bet you guys fluff your hours like crazy.” 

         “I… the money came from the Government or something.  And a few rich families in Europe.  Who cares if we fluff our hours?”  They can afford it.” 

         “I hope you’ve been saving it up,” Karla said with a smile. 

         The mercenary lowered his gaze.  “Why?  Not gunna be able to spend it when you kill me.” 

         Karla groaned in frustration.  “I just told you, if you cooperate then you go free.  Are you retarded?”

         Nathanial caused the orb of light to dissolve.  “Karla.  Hey.  Not necessary.” 

         “What?” 

         “Just… that’s a musical term, not an insult for people.” 

         The demoness tilted her head then nodded.  “Sure, okay.  Sorry.”  She cut her gaze back to the mercenary then said, “I know your name.  We looked you up on Facebook, remember?  You want to be exposed?  I can look you up online or offline, if I want.  But we’re going to let you go.” 

         “What?”  The man blinked uncomprehendingly.  “You killed my friends indiscriminatingly.  This old guy was just showing off for you.  Why would you care enough about my life to let me go?” 

         “Look,” said Nathan.  “If you wanna die so bad, go home and do it yourself.  You boys killed these people piled up on the floor.  You drew first blood.  I killed your team because they deserved it.  I chose you because you were a smartass who needed a lesson in humility.  If you believe in Karma, then those guys deserved death a little more than you did.  So shut up.  You’ve just been promoted to messenger.  The message is, ‘We’re on to you little punk bitches now.  Nathanial Carrington KNOWS about the operation out in the Atlantic Ocean.  So quit working for Doctor Falcon or I’ll entangle every least one of you and kill you by remote, from my home, while sipping a beer, watching the 49ers on TV.’ Because guess what, kid?  Quantum Entanglement works on a level you can’t understand, and it works from a distance that even I don’t understand.  Now.  Go back to your warehouse under that club that’s being renovated, and tell everyone they better quit this gig because, soon, I’m mounting an offensive.  And you guys won’t live through the night.” 

         The mercenary stared at Nathan for a moment, licked his lips then bit his lower lip.  “If you already know about all these things then, with all due respect, why are you giving us a choice after what we’ve been doing to your friends for the past week?” 

         “Because a lot of you are cops,” Nathan growled.  “Go stop drugs, rapes, murders and robberies.  That’s what the tax payers need from you.  Not this bullshit.  Not this… drama.” 

         “No one even knows it’s happening,” said the mercenary.  “Your kind are nearly extinct by now.  If you kill me for saying that, well… I’m sorry but it’s true.” 

         “I know, you numbskull,” Nathan shouted in a hoarse voice.  “I’m giving you a chance.  Now, get the hell out of here, punk.  You don’t even know what you’re doing.  You’re just following crappy orders for a paycheck.  But this is genocide, and that makes you no better than a war criminal.  If you follow orders to kill indiscriminately, without questioning, then you’re guilty. 

“You can’t govern without consent of the governed.  And the governed that serves as a hand of the governing body is just as responsible for their actions as the leaders who issue those orders.  Do you understand, you sniveling little prick?  You have a badge, dickhead.  You’re a state actor.  A peacekeeper that is paid to find the best solution possible to keep your gun holstered.  You’re no longer upholding the meaning behind that badge.  Instead, you’re killing people without due process just because you’re afraid of the powers you’ve seen us wield. 

         “Nevermind all the laws you’re breaking – you’re fucking evil to be able to do this work and call it a ‘second paycheck.’  Don’t you feel anything at all when you take the lives of civilians?!” 

         Karla placed her hand on Nathan’s arm.  “Whoa, okay.  Calm down there, poppa-bear.” 

         The mercenary licked his lips apprehensively.  “I… we refer to you as Eso-terrorists.  That’s the name given to us by the Government agent who trained us on the tactics we use against your people.” 

         The succubus’ eyes widened.  “Esoteric Terrorists, huh?  Government agents training the townsfolk how to fight with up to four years of training, huh?  Well.  This is certainly news.”  She waved her hand and teleported the mercenary onto the roof of an old building across the street from the speakeasy church.  She turned back to Nathanial and said, “This is bigger than we thought.” 

         “It’s happening all over again,” he murmured with a sigh.  “Don’t ask.  I’m just babbling.  I’m not making much sense right now because I’m being emotional.  Just… Karla, there’s something I need to do, okay?  Can you give me some time?” 

         She leaned close and kissed the side of his face then said, “I’ll clean up here lest we have homicide detectives crawling all over this place.  Go do your thing, babe.” 

         Nathan replied with a wan smile.  “Thanks.  I’m going to stay at your apartment tonight.  I know you’ll be safe – you always are, but it would still help me sleep better knowing you’re alright.” 

         Karla returned a genuine smile and nodded.  “I appreciate that you care.  You’re a good man, Nathan.” 

         “Yeah.  Just know that I’m going to die with my boots on sometime soon.  Don’t you get all busted up when it happens, okay?  I’ve known it’s going to happen and I’ve known for a while.  But you can rest assured that it’s not happening tonight.  I’ll see you when I get home, some time after sun up.” 

         “That’s awfully dramatic.  But manly.  What’re you going to do?” 

         Nathanial reached into his pocket and withdrew a computer flashdrive.  “See this?  I gotta go hide it in the glove box of a beat up old Chevy Chevelle.  Then I’ve gotta get back in town early enough to meet someone before eight in the morning.  I have a busy night, girl.  So just leave the electric blanket out on the sofa, with clean sheets.  I’ll open up the sofa bed when I get back.” 

         “Yeah, yeah.  I’ve got things to do in the morning, Nathan.  Just use my bed.  I’ll keep it warm with the E-blanket, and draw the shades so you can sleep in, alright?” 

         “Now we’re talking.  I hate sofa beds.”  The old man smiled. 

X

X

September 1^st, 7:30 am PDT
San Francisco, California

         Evan B. was lanky, with black-rimmed glasses.  The kind that nerds wore, but also superstars like Buddy Holly.  His hair was a little longer than the average black kid, but the brand name of his skater shoes and jeans suggested he was into the punk-rock scene. He stepped from his nineteen year old gray BMW then pushed the creaky door shut with a hip bump. 

         Making his way around to the front of his store, the twenty-year-old youth pushed the key into place and stepped inside.  He locked the door behind himself then headed for the register.  The small sales floor was covered with various glass objects.  His walls had been decorated with picture frames of all sizes; some had glass highlights, giving them an elegant appearance. 

         Evan made his way behind the register.  The wall behind the counter had realistically styled glass swords and other glass weaponry of medieval design.  He opened the register drawer and pulled out a notebook then carried it into the back office. 

         The young man gasped, seeing an elderly white man with a crew cut sitting in the chair next to his safe.  Evan cleared his throat and the two made eye contact in the dim illumination coming from an east-facing window.  Neither moved, neither spoke.  A hint of dust danced about, glowing in the morning sunbeam.  Evan took a step forward so that the sun shined on his face. 

         “This is awkward,” said the young man.  “A Payne in the Glass doesn’t open until nine.  I’m not sure how you let yourself in without my alarm going off – everything was locked.  So who are you?” 

         “If I tell you my name, you have to promise that you’ll deny ever meeting me.  Can you do that, Evan?” 

         “How do you know my name?” 

         “Because I do.  You’re Evan, the stepson of Jerry Balmoral, a police officer with the rank of Sergeant.  He adopted you when he married your mother.  She died from a pregnancy complication.  Tragic, for sure.” 

         “How… how do you know so much about me?” 

         “Kid, I know what you can do, too.  By the way, I’ve always loved the name of this store.”  He stood up from the office chair and stretched a bit.  “I know you’ve got a store to open, which means you’ve gotta count your drawer and update your ledger so I’ll let you get to work.  We can talk when you’re done.” 

         Evan frowned with a tilt of his head.  “I’m the only one working here – it’s my store.  I know what’s in the drawer.  I came in early to consider some new designs and because I keep all my sand here.  Sand is where glass comes from, more or less.  All I do is make things out of glass.” 

         “Yeah, kid.  Lightning strikes a beach, you get glass.  I get it.”  The old man moved around the desk and motioned to the chair.  “I kept it warm for you and you’re going to want to sit down to listen to what I have to say.” 

         “Uhm,” Evan murmured then moved around behind the desk, opposite of the side from which the older man moved away.  “Okay, so, uh,” he continued, settling in the chair.  “I’m not the kind of guy to stammer like this.  And I’ve never had anyone break into my store before, so… you know.  What’s going on here?” 

         “I’m here to give you a purpose.”  The old man leaned against the wall by the office door, leading out to the rest of the store.  He folded his arms and propped his right foot against the wall, supporting himself on his left leg. 

         “You’re like… an old man version of James Dean.” 

         The old man smiled. “You can call me Nathanial.  Or Nathan.  It doesn’t much matter.  If I remember correctly, kid, you like playing those tabletop roleplaying games, right?” 

         Evan swallowed due to the fact his mouth felt dry.  “Who are you, man?” 

         “It’d take too long to explain.  We don’t have a lot of time.  I’ve kept an eye on you since you opened your store last year.  YiaYia called me on the phone last night and told me that this morning would be the day.  I decided to watch, just in case.  Think of me as training wheels.” 

         “What’re you talking about?” 

         “YiaYia is this sweet little Greek lady.  She makes double chocolate baklava cheesecake that will knock your socks off, but that much sugar gives me the shakes in my old age.” Nathan shook his head with a smile of remembrance.  “Which is a shame because her desserts are so good that even you would exclaim, ‘sugar, honey, iced tea.’  Trust me on that – and I know how much you hate swearing.” 

         Evan eyed the man across the office, who stood just beyond the sunlight filtering in from the window.  “I don’t tell people I don’t like cussing.  I just try to ignore it unless they’re close to me.  That’s the only time I suggest they steer away from it.  I hate that it makes my friends sound like they lack class.  How do you know so much about me?  And who is this YiaYia lady?” 

         “Evan, it would take too long to explain.  But I know about your ability to craft objects into glass, and then demolecularize glass back into sand.  Hmm, was that even a word?  Eh, it sounds good.  As Karla would say: Moving on.  Right, so… YiaYia is a soothsayer.  A clairvoyant seer.  I’m not talkin’ about the kind of chick that will scry over a crystal ball.  I’m talking the real-deal kind of chick who calls you up in the middle of the night and tells you to load your gun and put on fresh underwear just ten minutes before an attacker breaks into your house.  Now.  I’m here to tell you that it’s about to happen to you.  And this isn’t one of your tabletop games.  This is real.  So I want you to put some sand in your pocket so you’re prepared.”

         The young man eyed Nathanial for a moment then squinted.  “I hate to break it to you, but that happened to me almost a year ago.  And I dealt with it.  My stepfather personally made an appearance to lock up that guy.  Last week, these two thugs in black combat fatigues tried to surround me out by my car.  For the first time in my whole life, I did something public.  I turned their guns to glass.  I got in my car and I left, quickly.  Haven’t seen them since.” 

         Nathan shrugged.  “They’re coming back today to finish the job.”  A pause, then the old man said, “They don’t want your money. Do you know what a witch trial is, kid?” 

         “Yeah, some sort of kangaroo court crap where people would burn anyone they accused of being a heretic.”  Evan frowned then opened his desk and took out his tablet.  “Still doesn’t explain how you got in without tripping the alarm.” 

         “You’re not the only one who can do something beyond normal.  But you can’t tell anyone you’ve ever met me.  That’s why I’m not giving you my last name.  Heck, I should have lied about my first.  But the point is: I need to make sure you don’t get your tail handed to you when those guys come into your shop.  They’re part of a witch trial.  You have an ability.  They’re hunting people like you and me.  But don’t worry; their operation is spread too thin right now.  If you can prove to me that you can protect yourself in a manner that satisfies me, I’ll take the bodies and hide’em for you.  Clear across town, so it looks like they were taken down as far from your shop as humanly possible.  That’ll throw’em off your scent.” 

         “So the attack is going to happen today?” 

         Nathan glanced at his left wrist then said, “Hmm… the time of day is two hairs past the mole.  I’m thinking I really need to get a watch.  But I’m also thinking that you’ve still got a few minutes before they try coming in from the front and the back door.” 

         “Well, uh, jeeze.  So what is your ability?” 

         “I can’t tell you that, just like I can’t tell you who I am.  It’s bad enough you now know that I’m old and my name is Nathan.  But whatever.  I need you sharp and focused.  I’m grading you on technique, time, efficiency, lack of blood, and, of course, style.  You think you can handle this?  You going to be okay?” 

         “You’re really serious about this?  I’m not being punked?” 

         “Shoot, kid, that show was way before your time.  Funny how it’s such a mainstream term, now.  And no, this isn’t a damn trick.  Before long, you can forget the store because it won’t matter anymore.  You ought to write a will just incase you disappear.  I know that’s a little bit morbid but if it makes you feel any better, you don’t die anytime soon.  Heh.  I promise I go first.”  The old man grinned. 

         “This is all really…” Evan trailed off, hearing the sound of glass being broken out in the front of the store.  He stood up from the desk, set the tablet down and moved across the office.  Through the side door leading out back, Evan could see a man in black gear.  “Okay, I guess you’re right.  They can’t see in through the glass tinting.  There’s only two of them?” 

         “Yup.  I’m confident you can handle them.”  

         “What if turning their guns to glass won’t solve the problem?”  

         “Evan.  I need you to calm yourself and get yourself emotionally psyched up for the realistic possibility that one of the two men will not be going home to his crappy bachelor pad apartment.  You cannot turn them in to the police, especially from here.  Once they’re unable to harm anyone, I’ll take them out of your hair.  But if you let one live, they will report in then they will come back.  Their job is finding people like us, got it?” 

         The young man sighed, watching from the doorway of his office.  “How do they even know I have this ability?  I mean, yeah, I turned their guns to glass but… before that – how’d they know?” 

         “They’re working for this one girl who has a passive ability – all she can do is sense when someone nearby has an ability of their own.  That’s it and that’s all.  Now get yourself ready, kid.  They have guns and they’re not playing around.” 

         Evan ran his hands back through his hair then sighed.  “Okay… the guy at the back door is pretty well armed.  I guess this is it then.  The real deal.” 

         “Guess so, kid.  Impress me.” 

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