Issue 1: March of Mephisto

The world may seem peaceful, but the truth if far from it. Post-humans across the globe have started not just regaining their powers, but committing criminal and destructive activities. By seemingly random chance a group of individuals, soon to be Heroes, are converging on Bellevue Hospital Centre. What secrets could an innocent looking hospital hold? Could it be linked to the oppressive Inhibitor system? And just who is manipulating the Post-humans behind the scenes, and how?




Welcome to the first Issue of Project Angel. Information on the setting can be found here, while the plot outline is here.

Good Luck, and enjoy.

He didn’t like hospitals.

Too many bad memories. Too much resentment. He could see it on their faces, why had they grown old and decayed while he remained the same. Mark shook himself mentally. His thoughts weren’t normally this depressing, but that’s what hospitals did to him.

To say Mark didn’t want to be there would be an understatement. But the Resistance wanted him there. His contact didn’t say why. Just that he needed to meet someone at the hospital. No idea whether he needed smuggling past PHMA, a surreptitious Inhibitor chip removal, or just an information exchange.

His hands restlessly went to his pocket, wanting to pull out a cigar, but the nurse who had told him to put that last one out was still glaring in his direction, so he returned to the paper. It was full of small disaster stories, bank robberies, government property damaged, freak weather conditions. Mark had seen this kind of pattern before, the work of post-humans, hidden behind the panic of the press. It was the same activity that had preceded the Brotherhood. Ok, not that he had noticed it then. Now there was another depressing memory.

The door to the clinic opened and Mark looked up from the newspaper, hoping it would finally be his contact.

“Oh HELL!”

“You get your little ass on that bike or you won’t get a dollar.” The big ugly guy poked his fat finger into her chest so hard that he pushed her backwards.
She had to bite her tongue that she didn’t yell at him, or well did something worse. Her eyes were luckily hidden behind her sunglasses, otherwise the guy would seen that her eyes were glowing.

“Fine I ride your friggin bike, but it’s the last time I race for you not with my own bike if not I’m out.”

“Whatever get on that bike, now!” He bellowed at her. Jennifer took the bike and pushed it to the start. As usual the other racers were tough, big guys and yet again they were laughing at her. “The girls never race, baby.”

“We’ll see what you think after the race.” Jennifer grinned and put on her helmet. The race began normal several jumps and then Jennifer heard a rattle that wasn’t normal. It sounded as if there was a loose screw.

Shit, that won’t end well.

And then it happened she was supposed to jump but her bike never left the ground, she run right into a wall with full speed. Her bike exploded and Jennifer lie unconscious curled up on the floor. The medics were there quickly, Jennifer was a mess broken bones, burns and probably internal injuries. And she was even quicker in an ambulance on the way to the Bellevue Hospital Centre. Not long after she arrived there her injuries started healing.

“What is going on here? Why did you bring this girl to the ER? She is perfectly fine.” The head doctor of the ER asked.

“She was in a bad shape not an hour ago.” The paramedic looked confused.

“Dammit she is one of them.”

Jennifer was awake but kept her eyes closed. Now she opened them, let the light bulbs explode and fled into the corridor. This was not the first time she was in a situation like this and she always got away. She quickly found the scrubs room and changed into the scrubs of a nurse, just before she went back into the corridor to find the safest way out of this hospital.

"Dad," Scott Rogers stopped by the door, tugging at his father’s coat. Dirk stopped, stepped to the side to clear the large sliding hospital doors, and crouched down to look his son in the eye: his son, who didn't like to hold his hand in public, but always insisted on holding his little sister’s hand when they were out together; his son, who wasn't afraid of anything, but now looked with fear up at the large hospital building. His voice shook the faintest bit. "Dad, I don’t think I need to..."

"Scott, there’s nothing to be afraid of, here..." Dirk began, but regretted it almost before it was out of his mouth.

"I’m not afraid, Dad, I’m not a baby!" Scott insisted.

Dirk smiled, trying not to laugh. He forgot how his eldest son always took life more seriously than he did. He was like his mother in that way, and Dirk fiddled with his wedding ring absently. "I know you’re not, Scott, I’m sorry. But if we want to do this, we have to do it today. Do you think you can be Daddy’s brave little boy?"

Now Scott was laughing at him. "Like I said, Dad: not a baby." He rolled his eyes heavenward and squared off against the building. He took a melodramatic deep breath. "Okay, let’s get it over with, then."

Dirk stood.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Scott?"

"Ice cream afterwards."

Dirk eyed his son sideways, until Scott remembered himself:

"Please?"

Dirk nodded. "You bet, son."

"Two scoops."

"Sure. Should we bring some back for Alex and Annie?"

"Yeah. Two scoops for them, too. And Grandma!"

"Good call."

Dirk nodded at the receptionist. "Hello, could you direct me to the office of Doctor--"

"Oh my God," she exclaimed. "Are you Dirk Rogers? I'm, like you're biggest fan!"

Dirk blushed. "Ah. Well, thank you." Now he noted the Red Sox pencil cup, the sticker on the back of her computer, and the gleam in her eye. "A Sox fan in the Big Apple, huh? You're braver than I. I'm retired now, actually, but thank you."

"Oh, really? I thought you went to the Rangers."

"Nope. Private sector now." Dirk shrugged, pulling his coat over his handgun and officer's badge. "Well, sort of."

"What can I do for you, sir?"

"Trying to find Doctor Zhivago. My son's getting his tonsils out." He tried not to pat the uncomfortably huge wad of cash that was in his pocket--and it wasn't for a tonsil surgery.

"Oh. Ummm....yeah." She frowned at her computer screen. After an uncomfortably long wait, she brightened. "Sorry about that: yeah, she'll be on the 73rd floor. Take the West elevators, turn left, and follow the signs."

"Thank you very much."

"Oh, and, uh, Mr. Rogers?"

"Yes?"

"Could I have your autograph?"

"Certainly," Dirk said, even as he thanked his lucky stars that this sort of thing didn't happen every day.

Scott was giggling as they got into the elevator.

"Hey, what're you laughing at, huh?" Dirk asked his son, playfully.

"Nothing. Hey, dad?"

Suddenly, Scott wasn't giggling anymore.

"Yeah?"

"Did it hurt? When you...you know..."

Dirk became serious, but placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "Nope. Not a bit. Walked out of the hospital the very same day and--that was the day we took Alex to the batting cage for the first time, remember?"

"Oh!" Scott seemed comforted. "Yeah." He wrinkled his nose. "He wasn't very good, was he, dad?"

"Well, he's younger, you gotta give him a--oh, here's our floor."

Together, father and son walked in through a glass door to a quiet waiting room. There was a toy train set in the corner, and Scott made a beeline for it. Dirk was so focused on watching his son, and greeting the receptionist with the secret code, that he didn't look around at the other patients waiting in the office. So the voice startled him as much by its volume as its suddenness:

"Oh HELL!"

Not to mention he would never forget the owner of the voice if he lived a thousand years.

’Crap, he’s seen me! thought Mark. But realistically, after his outburst, what else had he expected. Part of him desperately wanted to leave this situation, but there was no obvious way out, and he hadn’t backed down from a problem yet. Which meant there was only one thing for it. He rose from the seat and put out an arm.

“Dirk! How are you? It’s been a long time!” Dirk just stood there open mouthed, ignoring Mark’s outstretched hand.

“Dad, who is this?” piped up the small boy from beside Dirk. The sound of his voice seemed to spur Dirk into action, and the next second Mark found himself lifted off his feet and pushed back into the wall.

“Who? Are? You?” Dirk hissed, or would have hissed if he wasn’t such a mild mannered guy. As it was he just sounded worried.

“Damn it Kid, it’s me.” Dirk was off balance, so eager to grab Mark that he wasn’t paying attention. And Mark’s right arm was free. With a swift blow to the gut, Dirk bucked slightly, allowing Mark’s feet to reach the ground. He pulled back from Dirk’s grip, ducking and kicking out, sweep Dirk’s legs from under him. Even as Dirk fell Mark drew the Tazer from his jacket, pointing it at the no prone Dirk. He tutted.

“You’ve got rusty Kid.”

"What the fuck, Dad?!" Scott yelled.

"Shit! Security!" the receptionist cried.

Dirk was looking down the barrel of a tazer he remembered all too well, up at the face of a man he could never forget.

A man he had thought for 10 years was dead.

"You've got rusty, Kid," Whatever-Was-Pretending-To-Be-Mark-Wilson said.

What Mark hadn't seen was that Dirk had produced his sidearm, flicked the safety off, and was now pointing it at the older man's knee: an incapacitating shot, if he had to take one at all.

When he finally looked down, "Huh," was all he said, raising an eyebrow. They were at an impasse. Neither moved for a long moment.

"Dad!" Scott was suddenly beside them.

"Scott, stay back," Dirk ordered, and his son took it well, noting his tone. "Where did you learn to talk like that?" he added, not taking his eyes off of Mark Claimed-To-Be-Mark.

"Uh...kids at school," Scott answered, to his credit, promptly.

"I don't want to hear language like that out of your mouth again, am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Still swearing like a nun, huh?" Was-Perhaps-Mark grinned, but did not lower the tazer.

Dirk ignored him. "What happened?" he demanded. "I thought you'd died. I thought I had killed you!"

"Yeah, well, you didn't." Mark did not seem to be overflowing with patience right now, either. Which, in all fairness, was probably a good indication that this was Mark.

Dirk narrowed his eyes. He'd skip through all the accusations, the possibilities that were at least as, if not more, likely than Mark having returned from the grave or never having died at all. He lowered his voice, tried not to let it tremble, and cut to the chase, to the most important question that troubled him:

"If you were alive this whole time," he ground out, trying, though he knew well (if it really was Mark) that he could read him like a book, to not show how much emotion was loaded into this question, "why didn't you tell me?"

About half an hour before

Richard walked casually up to the rear loading dock of the hospital he'd been told to meet the local Resistance contact at, he'd picked up the instructions at a dead drop at the train station lockers. He was to meet the Contact up on the 73rd floor he'd be sitting near the elevators reading a paper in about 25 minutes from now. Richard casually nodded to the employees lounging around the smokers hangout at the back of the building smiling to himself at the thought facilities this size had so many security holes you could drive a tank through it was funny. The employees by the loading bay smiled back thinking he was smiling at them.

"Hi guys, running late on my first real day, great way to make an impression! where's the changing rooms again? I know they showed me in the induction but I can't remember right now." Richard fired out before any of them could question why he was there, best to head off any wondering before it even started. A pretty brunette nurse took a drag on her cigarette blowing out the blue grey smoke with a smile as she looked him up and down.

"Yeah sure honey, it's through the loading bay take the freight lift to the 10th floor its..."

"Third door on the left right? I remember now thanks. Got to run see you guys later" Richard interrupted with a smile pulling the nurses surface thoughts on the directions from her mind and finishing off to give that extra veneer of authenticity. Throwing the nurse a wink as he set off at a gentle jog into the loading bay weaving through the stacks of medical supplies to thread his way to the freight lift. Picking up one of the maintenance uniform jackets and baseball caps hanging from a trolley cage and slipping it on over his plain white shirt, taking the clip ID off the outer pocket and slipping it into an inside pocket instead. Its easier to pretend to have dropped your id somewhere than explain why you have someone else's.

After a few moments of tortuous elevator music the lift doors opened with a ping on the 10th floor. Richard slipped out of the doors whistling lightly while twirling his keys in one hand and keeping his cap low over his eyes. The image of a bored maintenance worker on his way to a supply closet. Looking out from under the brim of his cap to make sure the corridor was empty of anyone else he cracked open the door to the changing rooms to make sure there was no one inside, seeing a young woman pulling on nurses scrubs he quickly but quietly slid the door closed again and kept on walking to the end of the corridor with a mental curse. Richard hoped his luck would hold up as he pulled open what looked like a storage closet door at the end of the corridor to find with some relief that it was in fact a storage closet cleaning trolley mops and all. He quickly wheeled it out into the corridor adding to the convincing appearance of a maintenance man just on about his duties, while he went back into the closet and gave the appearance of going through the stores looking for something specific while he waited for the sounds from further down the hall the signified that the young woman had finished changing and had moved on. Finally after a few minutes he heard the click and squeak of the changing rooms door opening and closing again followed by the slight clack of the nurses shoes going off down the corridor. wheeling the trolley back into the storage closet Richard set off again down to the changing room door and slipped inside quietly pushing the door closed behind him.

Glancing around the room he quickly looked over the name tags on the locker doors, finally settling on "Dr Elliot Daniels" as the newest looking tag on one of the more beaten up lockers as the most likely to be the new guy given the crapest locker. Reaching out with his mind into the fine workings of the lock slipping the pins up into the mechanism and turning the barrel popping open the locker to reveal a locker of personal effects and a couple of doctors lab coats and most importantly a cheaply laminated photo ID of the type given to new employees until HR gets round to doing up a proper set of ID cards. Quickly shrugging into one of the doctors coats and throwing the stethoscope around his neck. Finally turning to the ID on the bench beside him he slit open the plastic laminate and slipping out the small photo, of an unremarkable brunet haired man with the nervous smile on his face of someone not sure if they can smile for their ID photo or not, replacing it with one of himself sealing up the small cut with the lightest touch of super glue to hide any evidence that it had ever been cut. He clipped the ID onto the coat and headed out of the changing room again after locking the locker back up and dropping the maintenance uniform into the laundry basket behind the door.

Richard glanced down at his watch as he waited for the lift, noting that after that little delay in the storage closet he only had another 5 minutes until he was due to meet his contact as he walked into the lift as the doors opened. Reflecting that so far things were working out just fine he hit the button for the 73rd floor.


Ping

“Why didn’t I tell you? Hell I thought you were dead. And when I found out you weren’t, well, you were rich and famous with a happy family and I was at the bottom of a glass. You wouldn’t want an old drunken soak turning you up reminding you of all the bad times, so I stayed away.”

There was no reason to lie. Unlike Dirk, Mark was pretty sure he was the real deal. He ticked off his kid for swearing despite being in a life or death situation. Definitely Dirk. There was the sound off booted feet rushing behind him, followed by the snap off weapons being prepped. Six, two handguns and four automatics by the sound of them. And to cap it all another doctor arrived through the main doors, and given his Asian appearance and the time, Mark would bet that it was the contact he’d been told to meet.

Time to end this. Even if Dirk didn’t believe him, it was very unlikely he’d actually shoot, and he wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man. He was too predictable like that. Mark holstered the tazer back in his coat pocket.

“We should end this impasse Dirk. We can’t have a dramatic Mexican stand-off with you lying on your back.”

Dirk bit his lip, his eyes still narrowed.

But then Mark put the tazer away.

Probably-Was-Mark. Had-To-Be-Mark. Desperately-Wanted-This-To-Be-Mark.

And now he felt like weeping tears of joy: he was a boy again, had just gotten taken down in a round of sparring by his beloved mentor and best friend, who was now laughing at him and offering him a hand up. He felt ridiculous, if not guilty, pointing the gun at him. After all these years! And leave it to Mark to not even bother sending a Christmas card--if that wasn't in-character, he couldn't say he knew the man!

He released this in a laugh-sigh-grin-sob, blinking furiously, and lowered the weapon, flicking the safety on and switching it to his off-hand. "Well, help me up, then, boss."

As he took Mark's proffered hand, he used the continuing upward momentum to pull the man into a tight embrace. After a second of surprise, Mark's arms eventually and grudgingly closed around him.

Then, "NYPD," Dirk said abruptly, pulling his badge out to display to the crowd of confused security and other miscellany. "Sorry for the disturbance. Scott?"

Scott poked his head out from behind a large potted plant.

"Yes sir?"

"Scott, are you all right?"

"Yeah...?" the boy replied, as if to ask "Are you?"

"I'm sorry we scared you, son, it's safe now. There's someone I want you to meet."

Scott slowly, gingerly (though making a strong effort to appear unafraid) stepped toward them. He wasn't often shy, but he didn't often see his father get thrown to the ground and have a weapon pointed at him, either. He stood slightly behind Dirk, eyeing Mark with mixed apprehension, suspicion, and anger.

"Say hello to Mark, son. He's an old friend of mine. What you saw was a...misunderstanding."

Nothing.

"Hey, you okay, buddy?"

"'Lo," Scott said, still glaring.

"Hello, what?"

"Hello, Mr. Mark. Pleased to meet you."

Mark laughed at the interplay between Dirk and his son.

“You aren’t obsessively polite and willing to swear. Good to see you aren’t as uptight as your old man.” Scott gave a nervous giggle, then tried to hide it as Dirk glared at him, followed by a look to Mark that said ‘don’t encourage him’! Mark shrugged good naturedly.

“So how does a baseball player end up being a cop anyway?” Mark asked, but before there was a chance for Dirk to reply a piercing siren began wailing, and there were sounds from the windows of electric blots sliding into place. An electric voice can over the speakers.

“Please remain calm. There has been a small security incident. The matter is currently in hand. Please remain at your current location.”

Dirk moved over to the desk to ask what the problem was. The nurse was slightly reluctant to say, but Dirk’s badge convinced her.

“It’s the quarantine alarm,” came the whispered reply. “The hospital is under lockdown. Something must have gone wrong at the labs.”

“Quarantine my foot.” muttered Mark.

"Everyone remain calm," Dirk said, in a practiced tone. "I'm sure they'll have the problem in hand presently."

Then he leaned over and whispered to Mark, "What do you think's going on?"

Mark pondered and didn't answer.

"We were here to get Scott's inhibitor chip removed. Might they be after us?" he absently pulled his son close, and, quite surprisingly, Scott reached up and balled his fists in Dirk's coat. "Can we trust these people?" he nodded at the rest of the people in the room, particularly at the Asian doctor who was staring intently at Mark.

The coat billowed dramatically as Renegade crossed the threshold of the hospital. Behind him were a group of armed Brotherhood mercenaries. Others were already spread out across the hospital, waiting for his signal. Pressing a button on a remote the quarantine alarm began sounding across the hospital, sealing the building.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Renegades voice rose above the hubbub in the foyer. “As you can see escape is impossible. You will now be in the care of my associates here. Just do as they say and no one gets hurt.” He then turned towards the lead mercenary.

“Spread out through the building. But no killing. We should be in and out before we really need the hostages.” Renegade know that the mercenaries were unlikely to listen to his orders but on the other hand, if his plans worked out, there should be enough people to deal with them.

He grinned and walked over to the lifts. Although sealed due to the lockdown, the doors opened with a wave of his hands. Time for the next part of the plan.

Mark broke his silence.

“No. No I don’t think it’s anything to do with you or your kid. That would be a far more subtle job. Picking you up in the elevator more likely. Or five Enforcers suddenly dropping on you. As for trust, probably not, but they’ve likely got as much to lose.”

He looked round the room.

“But even if they aren’t after you. We should still try and get out. I don’t know what’s caused this alarm but I really don’t like the timing. And the authorities are on the way, so it would be best if we’re going before they arrive.” He knelt down till he was at eye level with Scott, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry Kid, your Dad and I have been in far worse scrapes than this.”

Damn This had to be the hottest primary contact he’d had to date. The guy with the… taser, yes it definitely wasn’t a regular firearm at least, had to have been his contact from the file he’d been passed at the dead drop. Who this other guy on the floor was Richard had no idea but the more urgent priority was the security guards who’d obviously just arrived before him and where also trying to make sense of the scene before getting involved in a confrontation between two armed people. Thinking fast Richard walked calmly over to the side of the security unit’s leader, a sergeant by his rent-a-cop stripes, who looked with relief to Richard as some sort of authority of the Hospital on seeing his Doctors ID.

“Hold on Sergeant, there’s a kid over there.” Richard said, “they’re not about to start shooting if they haven’t already.” As he finished the guy Richard suspected of being his contact had put up his pistol on one of those self evident symbols of meaning no harm and in seconds the other man had been pulled to his feet and had hugged him. Today is just getting weird Richard reflected to himself as the man from the floor put away his gun and pulled out an NYPD badge.

“NYPD, Sorry for the disturbance.” Before turning back to the other man and the child that had taken cover but stayed near what Richard was assuming was his father. The Sergeant turned quizzically and even more confused face to Richard but he’d put away his weapons with him men following suit.

“Ok, I’m sure we don’t want to know and neither of us wants the paperwork of getting involved in a police case, I know I have more than enough already, don’t you sergeant? Things are obviously under control here for now, I’ll stick around and keep an eye on things and talk to the cop. I’ll make sure to mention you and your men’s exemplary reaction time when I talk to the head of medicine later.” Still a little confused the rent-a-cop nodded his thanks at not having to get involved in… whatever this was and herded his men back off down the corridor to the security station near the main elevators on the other side of the tower. Richard headed over to the reception desk to calm the still worried looking nurse behind the desk still trying to keep as much of herself hidden behind her desk as she could with looking too much like she was hiding now that things seemed to have settled back down but she definitely had that edge of being prepared to dive under the desk at a moment’s notice if the two men now cordially talking on the other side of the room looked at her funny.

“It’s ok Nurse… Duval, they seem to have worked it out of their system. Can I have the charts for today’s rounds please?” Reading the nurses name badge and hoping the routine request would help her to relax a little, which it did.

“But doctor where is Dr Teresa? I thought she had the rounds this morning.” She looked confused at Richard as she handed over the charts to him.

“She does, but I got in early this morning and apparently she was running late on something and asked if I could make a start on things for her. I owe her a favour and said I’d take care of things till she turned up.” Nurse Duval looked more reassured now that at least something happening this morning seemed to be making sense. Then the alarm went off and fear blossomed on her face again as she whispered “Quarantine”.

The man from the floor, apparently a cop, walked briskly up to the desk followed half a pace behind by Richard’s contact and asked what the alarm was of the nurse.

“It’s the Quarantine alarm,” came the whispered reply from the nurse “The hospital is under lockdown. Something must have gone wrong in the labs.”

“Quarantine my foot.” Muttered Richard’s contact.

“You’re probably right sir, Dr Daniels, as at least one of you is a cop would you like to accompany me to the security station to find out what is really going on?” Richard held out his hand to the NYPD officer first then to the man Richard had come to think of as his contact. As he shook the hand of the second man he said the code phrase that had been included in his contact briefing “You know those cigars will kill you one day, you can’t build up a Resistance to them.”

“Nurse Duval, please stay here and try to calm any of the patients that are concerned by the alarms.” Richard requested of the nurse behind the reception desk before turning to lead the two men down the corridor with the kid trailing behind close to the cop. The two talked briefly between themselves once they were a little away from anyone else in the room allowing them a degree of privacy. Richard only caught snatches of the conversation, enough to piece together that the Cop was here with his son to get the chip out so he could live like a real human being not chained like the PHMA wanted them all. He had to agree with the older man that this would certainly not be anything to do with their being here, that didn’t mean they weren’t here for Richard and his contact. But thinking that line through it didn’t make sense either, it wouldn’t make sense for them to give either Resistance man warning by setting off the alarm. It would be more likely that they would trip it silently to seal the exits after they had a grab team already in place to make their move. No this, this must be something else entirely. In the mean time though he'd leave it to his contact as to whether they could break cover in front of the cop or keep his cover intact. He'd rather not mention who he really was to any unknowns yet and a convincing belief on the part of the cop that he was who he claimed to be could be more convincing than the ID pinned to his jacket but there was no way to quiz his contact about this guy and whether or not to drop the cover role without giving away that it was a cover.

Meanwhile one floor above.

Jennifer whirled around like a trapped animal when the security lockdown went off.

Nononononono let me out, I have to get out.

She didn’t like to be trapped in a building, especially in a hospital she just got discovered as not normal by some doctors. She quickly managed to sneak into the staircase she looked up and down wondering which way would be best. Up would mean she would probably have to get off the roof somehow and there the problem that her flying was not yet safe. But going down meant maybe running into trouble.

“Fine down it is, can’t be worse than falling down a roof.”

She walked slowly down the stairs keeping an eye in both directions. So far she seemed to be safe.

So, the Asian boy was his contact after all.

“You’ll be surprised what I can build a Resistance to.” Mark replied. It wasn’t the exact reply phrase, but it was close enough for this work. He got a slight suspicious look, but seemed to accept it.

Once out in the corridor they Mark began whispering to his contact.

“I don’t know what job you’d planned, but unless its apocalyptical it’s off, ok. Only a matter of time before at least the cops arrive, never mind anyone else.”

“Don’t worry, I want to get out of here too,” the Asian replied. “But I though you…”

“Hold on!” Mark stuck his arms out stopping both Dirk and the Asian. There were three men heading towards them down the corridor. Mark could see the tell-tale signs of hidden weapons in their clothing. The Asian appeared to have noticed it too, maybe even before Mark had. Dirk was more concerned with Scott at the moment.

The two groups locked eyes for a second, Mark reached out and pushed Scott behind the three of them. There was a sudden motion as the thugs went for their weapons. Mark took a glance at his two new companions.

‘Well this should be interesting, let’s see how they do.’

Dirk walked the hallways with Scott in tow, following Mark and the doctor whom he was increasingly doubtful actually was a doctor. Not only because of the things Mark was whispering to him--had he actually caught the word "Resistance" in there?--but also because of the way the man carried himself and was careful to observe the world around him.

Dirk was just about to speak up when three other men came around the corridor in front of them, and Mark stopped them. There was a deadlock for a brief moment as each party sized the other up. The only movement was Scott, who clearly wanted to join in on the hostile standoff before Mark--still the same old Mark--gently but firmly directed him to stay behind them again.

Now Dirk was not the shoot-first-ask-questions-later type. In fact, he was somewhat less so than he had ever been, now that he had matured, seen the world, became a parent, and had time to learn the implications of that kind of behavior.

But when he saw weapons, and that they were pointed anywhere vaguely in the direction of his son--not to mention his former mentor whom he had lost once already and certainly wasn't going to lose again--in addition to an innocent civilian (well, innocent until proven guilty, anyway)--Dirk Rogers tended to see, well, red....

The wall of red energy went up first: instant, semi-transparent, and impenetrable. When the blasts that hit it weren't actually bullets, as expected, but laser blasts, Dirk looked at Mark in horror, remembering that he had seen these weapons before. Mark only nodded.

The Brotherhood.

Dirk had no compunction, then, nor did he waste any time, in throwing the wall forward as hard as he could, knocking the three mercenaries to the ground. The energy field fizzled out on impact, but it had done its work. The three men didn't get up.

There wasn't time for more congratulations other than a "Yeah!" from Scott, however, before they heard even more footsteps around the corner.

Jennifer was just about to open the door when a red wall of energy passed in the corridor.

“Great there I am I don’t wanna get involved and I’m on the best way to get involved.” She muttered.

Jennifer considered not going out but she was starting to get annoyed of this whole situation. She went into the hallway and saw the two people she never wanted to see again. On one end of the corridor were three guys knocked out on the floor and on the other side a doctor (if he really is one), a old dude and the beard didn’t stop her from recognising him, the dude who dared to replace her and a kid.

“My day can’t get any worse can it? I really had to run you after all those years?”

Jennifer looked disbelieving at the two men she knew so well, it was amazing that seeing them made her powers nearly uncontrollable. She seriously considered letting them stand right there and leave. She didn’t even know if they recognized her, after all this time.

"We've got company," Mark was saying, turning around. And there were reinforcements coming up the corridor where Dirk had taken care of the three mercenaries. They were going to be surrounded very quickly if they didn't hurry.

And into all of this chaos stepped a ghost.

Perhaps it was a family thing, Dirk mused. The Wilsons just could not die. It seemed laughable, now, to have ever believed otherwise. He actually almost did laugh, a little inanely. Maybe Dirk was jaded by already having one friend return from the dead today.

Or maybe, instead, those were tears bubbling up inside him.

"Jennifer?"

“You’ll be surprised what I can build a resistance to.” Richard scrutinised his contact even more closely for a moment or two, It wasn’t quite right but it was close enough that right now it didn’t matter, especially with whatever else was going the hell on here as it was.

Once out in the corridor his contact, he’d heard the other man call him Mark so that was as good a name as any for now till they had time for proper introductions, walked closer to Richard’s side and talked quietly to him. “I don’t know what job you’d planned, but unless its apocalyptical it’s off, ok. Only a matter of time before at least the cops arrive, never mind anyone else.”

This seemed a little strange it was Mark or his cell leader at least who had called in Richard and the AL for help, it wasn’t Richard’s plan at all. “Don’t worry, I want to get out of here too,” Richard countered “…but I thought you…”

“Hold on!” Mark interrupted Richards confusion as the three men walked round the corner, three armed men with hidden weapons. A sign that they shouldn’t be here if ever there was one. Mark seemed to have noticed the weapons at the same instant as Richard did, maybe a second after, but it was the cop, Dirk, that acted first as the weapons came out from under coats the backs of the men’s waist bands. Red energy flared to life in a wall across the corridor blocking the way of the men. Dirks look of triumph turned to horror as the laser fire hit the energy shield, Brotherhood laser fire.. Dirk threw his hands forward and the wall of energy blasted the three men back down the corridor felling all three to the triumphant cry of “Yeah!” from the little kid behind Dirk.

But before any of them could really enjoy Dirk’s victory the sound of more men pounding down the corridor drawn toward the sounds of the fight, then a door half way down the side of the corridor opened and one of the most beautiful brunettes that Richard had seen stepped out from the stairwell beyond. Looking to the two men beside him she seemed to recognise them and scowled “My day can’t get any worse can it? I really had to run you after all those years?” she demanded of the air around her while the pounding of booted feet grew louder in the corridor behind them. Mark and Dirk seemed to be a good mix of stunned and confused just standing there for precious seconds they didn't have, the boy pulling on his father’s hand in some concern.

“Jennifer?” Mark almost whispered but it carried throughout the corridor clearly almost like a prayer.

Glancing behind them Richard gave them both a good shove in the small of their backs propelling them on down the corridor and past the girl, “Get moving Miss, there’s some people coming and they don’t seem mighty friendly.” Richard meanwhile grabbed the fire extinguisher by the stairwell door and pulled the pin from it and he hurled it back down the corridor as two men came round the corner behind them brandishing the same laser weapons as the three from before. He reached out with his mind and squeezed the release handles sending off showers of white powder and co2 gas that filled the corridor as the two men started firing the laser beams being harmlessly diffused through the particle cloud between the attackers and the group making even the unluckiest shots that did connect feel like nothing more than the sun on your skin on a hot summers day. Their weapons nullified Richard threw himself down the corridor and into the white fog filling the corridor and out of sight of the others.

Inside the cloud he moved in toward the men first grabbing the lead man's pistol arm and twisting it back on its self making him drop the gun to the floor and cry out in pain, the drop caused the cloud to flash around them as the pistol discharged. The second man reached in with a quickly drawn knife to try and take advantage of Richards attack on the first man. Richard felt the man’s wave of emotion as he thrust forward to stab him, he quickly threw his weight off to the right pulling the lead man round and into the blade of his comrade causing the lead man to cry out again and then slump down to the ground in a sobbing heap pulling the second mans knife down with him. Richard quickly rolled and recovered his feet slipping into the cloud of white keeping out of reach of the flailing of the second man through the billowing cloud as he tried to catch Richard, who dropped down and swiped the feet out from under the man making him fall hard and then Richard was on him pinning the man with a knee in the middle of the back and striking him in the nerve cluster at the base of the neck causing an wave of pain that overwhelmed the man's ability to resist as unconsciousness overtook him. Richard quickly patted him down pocketing the man’s pistol, a spare magazine and the man’s wallet, he then went over to the other still sobbing man and pulled the knife from the wound low on the man’s back, close to if not penetrating the man’s kidneys. Richard knelt down next to the man’s ear as he briskly patted the man down adding a second magazine, the man’s wallet and a radio to his pocket as he whispered in the man’s ear “Wrong side, Cabron” and punched him hard in the side of the head knocking the man unconscious . Richard picked up the lead man’s laser pistol he side both the pistols into the back of his trousers and slipped the magazines into an inside pocket on each side of the lab coat and stepped back out into the clear air further down the corridor to follow the rest of the group who were still standing there looking ready to attack whoever came out of the cloud of white smoke.

Richard brushed some flakes of white powder from his lab coat as he looked up at the group with a shrug, “They had an allergic reaction I’m afraid, they’ll have to sleep it off. Time to get to the bottom of this.” He said as he walked through them, white dust settling on the two still figures now visible on the floor behind, in the direction of the security booth at the end of the corridor that had been suspiciously quiet throughout the last couple of fights. The noise of which should have woken the dead at this range and that should certainly have brought the security guards, they had seen only quarter of an hour before, running to find out what all the commotion was about.

Even though the doctor shoved Mark and Dirk closer to her, she back away from them. She didn’t want to be close to them. For a matter of fact she didn’t even wanted to be here. When the doctor dude took the fire extinguisher Jennifer became a little nervous, but he used it far away from her.

“What's going on here? Why the lock down?” She asked ignoring Mark and Dirk.

Normally Mark would had made a wry comment about the Asian’s performance, or complimented him on a good day. But now he just stood agape, whispering the name of the ghost who had returned after all these years. Despite the fact she was older, Mark could still recognise her.

“Jennifer.”

He was no longer paying attention to what was going on around him, not even noticing what she was saying. Eventually he just gave in.

Mark leapt forward and embraced Jennifer in a tight hug, a couple of tears rolling down his face.

“I’ve missed you Jenny,” he mumbled. Mark didn’t notice that Jennifer wasn’t returning the hug.

Jennifer gasped, she had expected everything but not this, a bone crushing hug. She wanted so badly to push him away and yell at him but somehow she couldn’t do it. She petted his back.

“Um, yeah. Let go please.” She actually sounded nearly friendly.

Somewhere, distantly, Dirk was aware that the not-doctor (Mark's "contact," whatever that meant!) had just saved all their lives, taking down the latest fireteam of mercenary Brotherhood thugs. He was also marginally more aware of his son tugging on his coat to get his attention, but it still could not be said that Dirk was a model of control and focus right now.

Mark was crying! Dirk wasn't far away from it, either, as the hug between Mark and Jennifer broke and he pushed his way into it, gripping her tightly, like he had that first day they met 13 years ago.

"Holy cow, Jennifer, I can't believe you're back." He pulled back to get a good look at her, grinning widely and trying (and failing) not to cry. "I never thought I'd see you again."

Jennifer looked rather confused. They were both crying, she wasn’t too happy to see them either but she wouldn’t cry that she was seeing them. She might go along and kind of team up with them to get out of the hospital but as soon they were out she would not even bother to say goodbye to them.

“Yeah I’m back for a long time now. Can someone explain me what’s going on here? I’m not even sure I wanna know who you are.” She looked at the Asian guy. When her eyes met the little boy’s one, she started smiling. “But I would love to know who this little man is.”

Jennifer liked kids, they were truthful and not faking anything.