"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. It's clear that we are all
Enhanced here. Don't we have enough troubles in this time of suspicion
and doubt without resorting to violence against one another?" Ezra
struggled against the tall, long-legged man holding him but the
gentleman in question merely tightened his grip, almost lifting Ezra off
the ground while forcing him to walk ahead through the dark, deserted
city streets.
"I ain't no gentleman," the man whispered lightly, his
moustache tickling Ezra's ear. "And you'd best quit struggling
because I wouldn't want to accidentally break something before Chris
gets a look at you."
Gulping, Ezra relaxed a little. The man holding him was, without a
doubt, someone of enhanced strength and could probably snap him in half
like a cheap toothpick. However, if he could--
"And you're no gentlemen either," the third member of their
less than cheerful trio spoke up and Ezra twisted around to look up at
the tall, broad-shouldered man of African descent. Height seemed to be a
prerequisite for this group. "Cheating folks out of their life
savings? That's no way for a gentleman to behave."
"Oh please," Ezra retorted. "You saw those men, and I
use the term loosely, they've never worked a day in their miserable
lives. Petty larcenists all of them."
"You're no innocent yourself and that's no reason to cheat
them."
"For the last time," Ezra almost growled, "I didn't
cheat. Anyone who would need to resort to slight of hand to win a card
game against those Neanderthals deserves to be tarred and feathered by
them."
"Unless that cheater can conjure up big blue bears to scare the
tarnation out of them." The moustached man grinned by his ear.
"That was some sight!"
"Thank you, sir," Ezra replied dryly. "If it wasn't
for your telepathic friend here detecting my--"
"I'm no telepath, understand?" the other stepped in front
of Ezra, placing a large hand on his chest and effectively halting them
in their tracks. "I'm an empath. I feel emotions, not thoughts and
I don't try to manipulate folks' minds."
"Fine, whatever you say." Ezra met the angry gaze until the
other man moved to his side once more and they began walking towards an
even more rundown part of town. "Couldn't you gentleman find the
resources to scare up an automobile for this little jaunt?" He eyed
the dilapidated buildings surrounding them. "Or are you just
planning to walk me into submission?"
"Don't you ever shut up?" the empath demanded before
leading the way down a fire gutted alley to a concealed metal door
secreted at its seeming dead end. "It's us, open up." He
rapped on the door.
Ezra wasn't sure what to expect when the door flew open, but a
dark-haired boy barely out of his teens certainly wasn't it. "This
is your door guardian?" He grinned before he was shoved hard into
the cavernous, brightly lit shell of a church and stumbled against the
table and chair, the only furniture in sight, set up a short distance
from the doorway. Just as he scowled back at the lanky, moustached man,
the dark-haired boy came swaggering up to him.
"So you're the illusionary telepath, huh?" The boy looked
him up and down then, quicker than Ezra's eyes could follow, a hand had
snuck into his inside coat pocket and the boy was fanning out his deck
of playing cards. "Isn't cheating at cards a little low on the list
for a telepath?"
"I don't know." Ezra snatched his cards back with a sour
look. "Isn't picking pockets a little low for the speed
enhanced?"
"You got that right!" The moustached man grabbed the boy
around the waist and a struggle of strength verses speed began enfolding
across the spacious floor.
Too busy watching the tussle, wondering when and if he should jump
out the way, Ezra never noticed the other three men approach him until
they had almost reached the table. Consequently, he almost startled when
the blond, dark clad man in the centre of the trio was suddenly there,
glaring him into the chair while asking sharply, "Is this
him?" of the empath.
"That's him." The other nodded. "He's the illusionary
we've been hearing whispers about the last couple of days. It's lucky
those illusions he creates can't have feelings or we'd have never have
found him. But, Chris, I can't read him at all. He's as blank as those
fake visions he can put into folks' heads. I can't tell you if he's lyin'
to us."
"That's all right." The one called Chris settled a cold,
sharp-eyed gaze on Ezra. "He won't lie."
"Ah, I take it you're the leader of this happy band then,
sir?" Ezra plastered on his most charming smile but didn't dare try
anything else. Yet. "You're an Enhanced as well, I take it?"
Chris didn't answer for a long moment that almost started Ezra
fidgeting. "You've met our empath, Nathan and our enhanced strength
and speed men, Buck and JD. Vin has enhanced senses so he can hear your
lying heart hammering in your mouth." He inclined his head to the
buckskinned man with shoulder length, wavy hair on his right. "And
Josiah here," he went on with a nod to the grey-haired, bear of a
man on his left. "Can see the past, future and what's just around
the corner. He'll know if you're planning to betray us. Got that?"
Ezra nodded, feeling queasily out of his depth. "And what about
yourself, sir, what enhancements do you posses?"
No one responded. Even Buck and JD had ceased their wrestling
completely so all six stood there looking blankly down at him. It was
all rather unnerving. Ezra smiled more brightly to compensate.
"Gentleman, gentleman, we're on the same side. None of us chose the
DNA we inherited. Can't we all just get along amicably? Believe me, I
have as much interest in your business as you have in mine."
"Well, that's just it, mister," the one named Vin began,
"We don't know what your business is. Illusionary telepaths just
don't fall out of the sky. Yet here you are, right on our
doorstep."
"The talents of you gentlemen aren't exactly common place
either, if you'll excuse me for saying so. I doubt that such a team of
Enhanced has been put together since the war."
"But we're not actively sought by the government and forced to
register ourselves for assessment," Josiah added. "Only full
telepaths are and a little bird tells me you aren't on the Meta
Registration at all."
"I'm not a full telepath," Ezra answered low. "If I
could read thoughts, I wouldn't have been caught by your friends
tonight, would I?"
"But you can get inside minds." Chris leaned menacingly
over the table. "You can make people see what you want them to
see."
"A flawed talent as your empath has proven."
"How are you against full telepaths?" Chris snapped.
"What do you mean?" Ezra hedged, finally sensing the reason
he had been brought here.
"He's good," Nathan broke in. "It would probably take
at least three telepaths to work out he was pulling the wool over their
eyes."
"Is that right?" Chris prodded.
Ezra nodded reluctantly. "I can usually convince two but any
more than that increases the chance of variation in what they see and,
to use a vernacular term, I am soon rumbled."
"How long can you hold an illusion up for?"
"I don't--"
"Don't try me, just spit it out," Chris snapped.
"Lives are depending on this."
"Now wait a minute, just hold on here." Ezra pushed back
his chair and stood up. "I don't remember signing up for this
little group. You gentlemen can play meta soldiers to your hearts'
content, save anyone you have a mind to. I won't alert the constabulary.
Frankly, I really don't care what--"
"Well, that's our bind, you see." Buck interrupted Ezra's
brotherhood of Metas speech by placing an over-friendly arm around his
shoulders. "Now that you know our faces, know our abilities, know
where we live, we can't really let you go, can we?" He grinned
cheerfully. "Josiah is now going to explain your choices to you.
Josiah?"
"Thank you, Buck," the other smiled at his friend but then
his face lost all expression as it focused on Ezra. "Seems to me
you have two choices son: you can either wake up in the Central Office
For Meta Registration with a really bad headache, or help us stop some
bad people hurting some innocents. The decision is yours."
Ezra stared at Josiah, hardly believing the threat in that deep,
melodious voice. "You wouldn't. You know what they'd do to
me."
Chris shook his head. "Not our problem. Your lucky Nathan and
Buck caught you pulling that stunt and not the Meta Cops."
"Yeah, I hear those Alpha Wave Guns can turn a telepath's brain
into dog chow," Vin added helpfully.
"Better choose your poison." Josiah folded his arms to
await Ezra's decision.
"And what choice is that?" Ezra scowled, shrugging off
Buck's arm. "All right," he sighed. "I can fool a strong
telepath for around ten or fifteen minutes straight depending on the
complexity if the illusion."
* * * *
"So, what do you think of him?" Chris asked Vin and Josiah
as Buck, JD and Nathan showed Ezra to a spare room in the living
quarters they had built onto and the church's back lot. "He could
make our work against the Judge go a hell of a lot smoother."
"I don't know," Vin considered slowly, his eyes narrowing
as he looked in the direction of the living quarters as if he could see
through the walls. "There's something about him."
"You think he's a plant by the Judge?"
"Nah, not that and I don't think he's lyin' to us either but
he's holding something back. Chris, I think he might be a preternatural
charmer too."
"He was tryin' to charm me?" Chris blinked. "I didn't
feel anything."
"I don't think he was actively using any charm powers. Hell, I
don't even know for sure that he has any, but he does have that feel
about him that all charmers do. You're drawn to them but you can't
figure out why."
"Could it be he doesn't know he's a charmer?"
Vin shrugged. "Anything is possible with our screwed up
genetics. You just need to look at Nathan pushing those nails around to
know that."
Chris nodded; unstable or evolving powers were a worry for them all.
It had been three months since Nathan's powers had become erratic and he
had begun to wield some small telekinetic ability. But, luckily, the
flux in his empathic powers seemed to settle and, with it, the limited
telekinetic abilities stabilised also.
"I think he's the one," Josiah suddenly announced.
"Him?" Chris scowled. "He's the one in your
vision?"
"No, you know I didn't see the face of that man, but he feels
right and you know the vision told me that only with seven could we
overthrow the Judge's corruption once and for all. I think he's the
one." Josiah repeated with a shrug.
Chris watched his friend, looking for any hint of uncertainty in his
calm expression. "All right, but we play it cautiously. Everything
is on a need to know basis. We don't tell him about the Judge or the
diamonds or any of the rest of it."
"What about you?" Vin frowned. "Should we tell
him?"
"Oh, he'll find out soon enough." Chris grinned.
* * * *
"This is such a bad idea." Ezra took another swig from his
faithful whisky flask to steady his concentration for what was to come,
before hunkering further down behind the shipping crates out of the
night's biting sea wind and checking his watch. In precisely one minute
and thirty-two seconds, he was going to walk into the jaws of death with
nothing but his wits for company. Of course, his newfound friends would
be out there somewhere, doing whatever their part of the plan was, but
no one was keeping an eye on him. Not even the enhanced senses of Mr
Tanner could see through concrete and metal.
Ezra took another swig of whisky and went through his plan once more.
It was basically the same plan as set out by the enigmatic Mr Larabee
except this one involved his good self walking out the door with two
hundred thousand dollars worth of illegally smuggled gems. Frankly, he
reasoned, it served Larabee and the others right if they thought he was
foolish enough to go up against an unknown foe with nothing but an
illusion or two to safeguard him from harm. The fact that they didn't
even think enough of his welfare to warn him of the considerable measure
and deadliness of their opponent only served to make matters worse. Ezra
was no fool, nor was he suicidal and, as far as he was concerned, only
one or the other would go up against Ella Gains, the Judge's rabidly
homicidal second-in-command. Larabee's crew deserved any punishment they
received for thinking they had talked him into such madness in the space
of one day.
From the very beginning, as they carefully laid out their plan of
attack, he knew exactly what was going on. Being new to town, they were
no doubt counting on his ignorance but Ezra had been at this game a long
time. He had only made the mistake of skinning in a town without
checking out who the main players were once -- and it was a painful
mistake he had absolutely no plans to repeat. That was how he had first
met the Judge but he didn't tell Larabee and company that. If they
wanted to believe that he was ignorant of the Judge's organised crime
syndicate, Ezra felt absolutely no need to tell them of his various run
ins with the man. If they wanted to believe that he was just another
telepath on the run from a crackdown, who was he to dissuade them? If
they wanted to believe that he was willing to risk life and limb upon
the utterance of an idle threat, who was he to put them straight?
"They'll be all right." Ezra tucked his flask away, checked
his watch, and then took a steadying breath. "That kind live for
these heroic idiocies." He quickly moved out from behind the crates
and strode into the wind up to the two men guarding Ella Gains'
warehouse doors.
"Judge, sir!" The men immediately saluted him. "We
weren't expecting you."
"Well, it wouldn't be a surprise visit if you were now would
it?" Ezra scowled back at them, projecting 'Judge' Orrin Travis
from head to toe.
* * * *
"Something's wrong," Josiah muttered low.
"What?" Chris responded but his gaze never stopped scouring
the target warehouse and surrounding docks for a moment. The abandoned
fish processing plant, upon the roof of which they crouched, afforded
the perfect view point and he wasn't going to give up that advantage for
a moment.
"I don't know but something's not goin' to plan."
"If it's--"
"Come in, big dog," Buck's voice broke in on the com link.
"Go ahead, stud," Chris responded immediately.
"Nathan's got the first package. He's heading out to the
rendezvous point with it now."
"Is it damaged?"
"A little fractious but holding together. JD's keeping the coast
clear."
"Any bogies?"
"Negative. Six down and out. Me and Vin are heading for the
second package now."
Chris paused in his answer as he caught Josiah shaking his head out
of the corner of his eye. "Negative, stud, get out of there."
"What about the second package, Chris? It's as quiet as the
grave down here and I'd really like to--"
"Negative," Chris repeated sternly. "Withdraw, Buck.
Now. Is that clear?"
There was no response.
"Buck? Respond."
A dull static buzz was all he heard in return.
"Hell!" he cursed, glaring at the warehouse. "You
ready to go in?" he glanced at Josiah for the first time.
"As always," the big man smiled.
* * * *
The diamonds were beautiful. Perfect. Absolutely flawless. This plan
was so ridiculously easy. Ezra almost giggled as he pocketed the gems
then turned to the idiot of a guard who had been duped into handing them
over without so much as a questioning look.
"That's fine. You may escort me out now, my man," Ezra
ordered.
"You're leaving?" The guard blinked stupidly back at him.
"I mean, sir, Miss Gains is--"
"Who's the chief of this operation, myself or Ella Gains?"
"You, sir, of course."
"Then do as you're told," Ezra snapped in his best Judge
impersonation, marching past the guard back the way they had come
through the stacked boxes.
"But Miss Gains is on her way, sir, she--"
"You told her I was here?" Ezra stopped dead to growl at
the hapless lackey; the last thing he needed was any more dealings with
that telepathic psychopath.
"Her car has just pulled up out front, sir," the guard
gulped.
"Well it's just as well that I'm heading for the back, isn't
it?" Ezra snapped before continuing on his way. "Relay my
apologies to Miss Gains that I couldn't stay to greet her."
Ezra glared at the man guarding the door until the unfortunate idiot
opened it sheepishly, then he was in the clear, almost running to hide
behind the shipping crates while projecting the image of the Judge
climbing into his limousine and driving away.
Then the alarms went off.
"Oh hell!" Ezra looked around the side of the crates to see
the two guards run into the warehouse. "Hell!" he repeated
more venomously. His role in Larabee's plan was to distract the guards
and raise the alarm with a fake fire in event of an emergency; how was
he supposed to do that without guards to distract in the first place?
Shaking his head, Ezra stood up and turned his back on the warehouse
to stride off into the surrounding darkness, the gems in his coat pocket
weighing heavy against his hip. It wasn't his fault that Larabee's plan
screwed up, and it certainly wasn't his duty to check on the welfare of
men who had threatened to turn him into government scientist fodder.
But, then, he really knew they wouldn't. They weren't killers. Not one
of them. Even Larabee with his cool exterior had something about him
that drew Ezra like a moth to a flame.
"Oh great," Ezra stopped to sigh then look back at the
warehouse. "You're going to go back there just in the hopes of
getting your wings burnt, aren't you?" He studied the warehouse.
"I suppose taking a look wouldn't hurt." He paused a moment
longer before hurrying back the way he came then skirting around the
side of the building to make his way up the slick metal slope of the
upper floor delivery chute.
Cursing silently as he heard Ella Gains' harpy tones, Ezra dropped
onto the upper floor gangway without a sound and crept over to the rail
to see what was happening. It was exactly as he had feared: Buck and JD
were on their knees with two of Ella's henchman pressing gun muzzles
into the backs of their heads while Nathan and Vin stood a little way
off, covered by another two henchmen's automatic rifles. The only thing
that surprised Ezra was the presence of four oriental children, a boy
and three girls all around six years old, who clung desperately to
Nathan's and Vin's legs.
"Where are you, Chris?" Ella called, echoing Ezra's own
thoughts. "I know you're here. I can feel your mind. Come on, lover
boy, don't be shy. I know it takes you a while to ignite and these
kiddies and your friends will be dead before you can start my men a
smoulderin'. And don't think I care about a few telepathic brats. The
Judge can always find more and he knows how much you mean to me."
While Ella raved on, Ezra's mind was spinning and Chris' plan was
suddenly making perfect sense. If Ella's ramblings were true, then Chris
was a pyrokinetic and illusionary flames would be the perfect method of
assault. Backed by Chris' own power, the enemy would be hopelessly
confused, unable to tell which fires were real and which were illusions.
Ezra grinned at the thought. The plan was a masterpiece, one that could
still be put into action.
As Ezra tried to subtly catch Vin's attention, he quelled an
unreasonable disappointment welling up in his soul that Chris hadn't
trusted him enough to tell him of his powers. While it was true that
pyrokinetics and telekinetics were the only Enhanced that the Meta Cops
would shoot on sight, no Enhanced, not even Ella Gains had any love for
the backstabbing bastard Meta Cops who had turned on their own kind.
Just as Ezra began to suspect that Vin's abilities were grossly
overrated, Vin finally glanced up to catch his eye.
'Where's Chris?' Ezra mouthed, hoping Vin would understand but,
instead of indicating in a direction, the enhanced sense man very subtly
directed Nathan's attention to Ezra's presence. Then Chris was striding
out from between the stacked crates, walking to the edge of Ella Gain's
performance space.
"I'm here."
"Chris, sweetie." Ella fluttered her eyelashes in response.
"I knew you'd come. You just couldn't bare it if anything happened
to your friends and these innocent little cherubs. But, you know
what?" She settled her gaze on Buck and JD. "I never liked
these two at all."
Ezra never waited to see how quickly the henchmen would respond to
her gesture. In the blink of an eye, all the men with firearms and Ella
Gains herself were screaming from the illusionary flames that engulfed
them. Then everything was moving like clockwork, as if they had done it
a million times. While the warehouse guards rushed in, Buck and Vin
disarmed them so JD and Nathan could get the children to the metal
stairs that led to Ezra's gangway and their escape route.
"Shit, telepaths! It must be her bodyguards," Ezra called
down to Buck, Vin and Chris as his carefully set up illusions wavered
shakily.
Just as the two thick set telepaths came into view from between the
stacks of boxes, and just before Buck, Vin and Chris sank to their knees
under a vicious telepathic assault, Ella Gain's howl of frustration at
being outwitted turned into a shriek of agony as her clothes smouldered
then burst into real, devouring flames. While Buck recovered quickly and
almost carried the barely conscious forms of Chris and Vin over to the
steps and up to the gangway, Ezra kept the last two telepaths and the
remaining guards busy with more illusionary flames, but he was tiring,
his concentration slipping.
"Ready to go, Ez!" Buck called from the mouth of the chute.
"C'mon now the Cops are coming."
"But what about--" Ezra moved up to the chute, his words
dying on his lips as he looked down to see Josiah and JD helping Chris
and Vin into the back of a plain black truck.
"Josiah always has the escape plan ready to roll." Buck
grinned before shoving Ezra unceremoniously down the chute.
"Hey-- My-- Mr Wilmington!" Ezra finally found his breath
to complain as Josiah pulled him to his feet before bustling him into
the back of the truck. "Mr Sanchez, I'd appreciate it if--"
the doors were slammed and bolted and he quickly sat down before he was
catapulted into either a whimpering child or one of his half-conscious
teammates in the darkness. It wasn't until the truck had jolted off on
its merry way to the sound of approaching sirens, that Ezra realised
what that sickeningly light feeling in his inside coat pocket meant.
With a flash of desperation, he reached into the pocket in question
only to find an ominous tear in the lining. Ezra felt like bursting into
tears as he recalled the dull sound of something that could have been
gems in a bag rattling off into oblivion when Buck had pushed him down
that thrice-damned the chute.
Some over-achiever of a Meta Cop was about to discover the lucky find
of a lifetime.
* * * *
Chris didn't know what to make of Ezra Standish. While it would have
been easy to write the man off as an untrustworthy cheat and send him
off to Mary Travis' underground network for relocating along with the
orphan children they had rescued from the warehouse, something had
stopped him from suggesting it. The oddest part was that he seemed to be
the only one that felt betrayed by Ezra's actions at the warehouse --
the others seeming to believe the illusionists tale of needing to
relocate. While it was true that none of the others had felt the same
crushing defeat he had when he had went to Ezra's position at the
warehouse only to find it abandoned, it didn't account for his need to
trust the man now. And it had nothing to do with how seamlessly Ezra
fitted into the team, either.
Not at all.
If anything, it had to do with this vision of Ezra now: sitting
curled up on an overstuffed armchair in the day room, double stitching
the lining of his finely tailored coat by afternoon sunshine that
streamed through the streaked window glass. While his nimble fingers
worked speedily through the cloth, his head tilted slightly this way and
that so the sun caught his hair in a fiery light.
"Anything I can help you with, Mr Larabee?" Ezra asked
without looking up. "Apart from suggesting the services of a
reputable window cleaning company, that is." This time he did look
up with a smile to take the sting from his words. But Chris wanted the
sting.
"Don't ever run out on me again," he growled low, holding
the green eyes until Ezra blinked and looked away. Then Chris was
turning away, wanting nothing more than to leave this scene behind him.
But something stopped him. Something in those green eyes made him stop
with his hand on the door and say over his shoulder, "Ella Gains
deserved what she got. She murdered my wife and son."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Ezra replied softly.
Chris left the room without another word.