?It?s six in the morning, the place just opened and already filling up with customers,? Brooklyn muttered his tone slightly acidic as he was seated at a table near the back wall of the slowly crowding Lydig Coffee House. So much for a quiet breakfast.

?Angie will be with you in a moment,? the hostess smiled and walked away, choosing to ignore the man?s comment. All of them here to eat their meals just like you.

Brooklyn smiled inwardly as he picked up on the hostess?s thoughts. Sometimes it was just too easy being a psionicist. Of course mornings like this made it harder for him to relax and enjoy his morning cup of coffee with everyone projecting their thoughts like a radio station broadcasts their programming for anyone with a radio to hear. Thankfully for Brooklyn he had long learned to adjust his radio accordingly when he wanted to shut down all of the white noise. With the closing of his eyes he managed just that and sunk into the mental silence he desired.

The server, Angie, finally came and took his order and went along her merry way. As a customer he was a godsend, no wasted time waiting to order: coffee, two sugars, cream and a glazed doughnut, the breakfast of chumps and police officers. He was neither and she could tell, dressed too casual for an undercover and was too well mannered for some schmuck off of the street. He had introduced himself as Brooklyn but frequented the Bronx.

From the limited view through the window blinds, Brooklyn could see the Bronx getting into the swing of its daily routine. Commuters headed their merry way to work along Lydig and Cruger Ave., some late stragglers running to catch the stop number 2 of the Pelham line and students making their way to the prep school off of White Plains Rd. This was a borough coming to life for the day and in this little nook of concrete heaven, Brooklyn could sense it all if he wanted. But today it was just peace and quiet he longed for.

Not wanting to waste anymore time and actually trying to be courteous to those who hadn?t had a chance to have their breakfast, he left the money on the table and walked away. His hand was on the door knob when he felt the bite on his neck. Nothing more than a bug bite, and his left hand quickly shot up to punish the insignificant creature that picked the wrong target when it came into contact instead with a small metal disc shaped tab with the tiny inscription of DM Research Labs. Arlin. Brooklyn thought and tried to reach out with his mind to feel who had shot at him but the toxin had done the job efficiently and the result was instantaneous. He was stuck in his own mind for a while. He was normal. He was being hunted.

A quick movement from a nearby table told him all that he needed to know as the figure of a man stood up. Though most of his facial features were covered by a Yankees baseball cap and some sunglasses, the crescent shaped scar on the side of the neck was unmistakable.

?Alex,? the name had barely escaped as a whisper from his lips before instinct took over and made him shove the door open and run to the right, leaving the diner and his hunter behind to the sound of a waitress yelling ?dasher!? Brooklyn risked a glance over his shoulder to see his pursuer throwing some money at someone and opening the door.

Brooklyn turned his head to focus as he ran down the sidewalk. The absence of noise in his head had gone from bliss to hindrance. Any other time he could have heard his pursuer from a hundred yards away. Today he had let his guard down and was paying dearly for it. Not going to do that again, he thought to himself as he brushed by a couple of streetwalkers walking home from their night at work. Even with physical contact he felt nothing, no thoughts or trace emotions. Good job, Arlin, you perfected it.

The neurotoxin that was flowing through his body though alien in design was not alien to him. He had been injected before, once, as a test to see how potent it could be. That seemed a lifetime ago but now he was on the other side of the hunt and the weapon worked a lot better than when he was a tester, back then he could still read thoughts if he touched someone; now he felt nothing. The question that mattered most to him now was how long the effect would last. When he was working to develop the ?block?, as they referred to it now, with Arlin, it had been suggested that it not have a permanent effect; but that was a long time ago and ideas could have changed.

A glance behind him caught his pursuer gaining ground on him, the beige members only jacket and Yankees cap clear in the crowd of mostly darker dressed individuals. Good, you?re in my town now, Alex. I don?t need powers to blend in here, he thought as he cut across Lydig Ave. and went down White Plains Rd, bringing the traffic to a quick stand still as he sprinted in front of cars and trucks with wreck-less abandonment. He was rewarded with the sound of honking horns and several obscenities being yelled out to him followed by a loud thud as Alex was slowed down by a car that got in his way. And that is just what I needed, he thought to himself as he turned the corner and ducked into the CVS pharmacy that had just opened its doors for business.

If the cashier thought it was weird that someone would enter his store winded he didn?t show it. Actually in spite of the door chime the middle aged cashier didn?t move a muscle to greet a potential customer, enthralled as he was reading the sports page which suited Brooklyn even more as he briskly walked to the end of the first aisle and kept his eyes on the door as much as possible, expecting Alex to burst in any second.
Come on, Brooklyn. Move your feet, he thought to himself as he crept along the furthest wall and out of the line of site with the door. Alex?s body never appeared in the window. ?Caffeine,? Brooklyn muttered to himself as he searched the aisle markers for where he could obtain anything to help him out.

He thought back to when he had helped to develop the blocker and remembered an intentional flaw that they had designed to help in case of accidental injection. It seemed so simple at the time, a caffeine boost and the neurotoxin would be countered just enough to give a psiconicist like himself a level head.

He slowly stalked through the store, making sure to keep away from the entrance, grabbing a couple of Monster energy drinks on his way to the back stock area. Once there he opened up a couple of the cans and quickly slammed them back, hoping that they would be enough to speed up the healing process.

The piercing silence slowly started to dissipate in his mind, the familiar mumblings of thoughts starting to saturate his mind. It wasn?t what he was used to, however it was a start. Slowly he brought up his hand to his head and made his way out through a door that led into an alleyway. ?Damn it, it?s like I?m back in 8th grade all over again,? he muttered to himself as he walked away from the rear door and towards the street on the other end of the alley.

?Deep breaths? control yourself?? he muttered as he neared the end of the alleyway and peered out for any signs of his pursuer. ?How the hell did they find me?? he asked himself before stepping out into the pedestrian traffic of the sidewalk on Maran place, hands in his pocket and eyes cast down. Just another New Yorker on his walk to work. It wasn?t a long walk to the Pelham Parkway station where, he hoped, he would be able to blend into the crowd and get on the subway.

The train was, as usual, packed with commuters who were starting their day. Suits that would take the connector to Manhattan, students going to city college and others who were going to their various places of work. Of course who could forget the occasional homeless person who was looking for an air conditioned place to sit down and rest. As they moved from station to station, passengers got on and some got off. Brooklyn must have counted at least fifty Yankees hats early in the morning and each one made him jump a little inside.

It was dark and cold. He couldn?t tell exactly where he was but one thing he did know. It was empty and he was tied down to a steel chair with his arms behind his back. ?Hello!?? Brooklyn called out. He was answered by his own voice echoing down what sounded like a vast chamber of sorts. He closed his eyes to reach out telepathically only to find that he was alone.

?You?re time of reckoning is here, Brooklyn Teagues,? a smooth baritone voice called out to him. ?It?s been a long time coming but your days of running are over.?

I know this voice! ?Arlin?? Brooklyn asked as he struggled to find the source of the voice. ?I can?t see you? or feel you. I know I?m not drugged.? There was a small hint of panic in his voice now.

?I am? everywhere,? Arlin?s voice rang out in a stereophonic sweep that echoed around the chamber. ?There is no place that you can hide where I won?t be able to find you.?

?Enough of the games, Arlin. If you?re going to kill me, go ahead and do so. Cut with the theatrics already!?

?Kill? Oh no, Mr. Teagues. Death is too light of a sentence for your crimes.? Arlin?s voice took a more sadistic tone. ?No, it would be a release from the prison you have built around you. To let you live like this, trapped in your own mind, that is much more fitting for the damage you have done to everyone, Brooklyn. The damage you have done to yourself!?

?Look, Arlin, I didn?t mean to do that to her! I didn?t know!?

?Didn?t know? That you were going to shred her mind into pieces? Make her forget about her life, her family, her partner?? That baritone voice went from anger to disgusted hatred at the mention of the mysterious ?her?. ?Didn?t know that you were going to kill that young boy? Destroy his family??

?I didn?t know it was her, okay? I?m sorry but I was trying to run away and she snuck up on me and I didn?t kill no boy!? Brooklyn?s anger was rising as his tone matched Arlin?s voice.

?That must make it alright then since you didn?t know it was her! The same way that you didn?t know you were going to destroy the Jacobs family when you took Nathanial away from them! That you didn?t destroy his girlfriend Jasmine when you blew her boyfriend up in that house!?

?I.. was.. Trying to save them!?

?You betrayed them! Just like you betrayed me! Your time is up Brooklyn! It?s time to face the world you have created for yourself!? Arlin?s voice faded away as it was drowned out by a recording announcing that the train had arrived at the Canal street station.

Brooklyn?s eyes snapped open and he looked around the train, gathering his bearings after the daymare he had just snapped out of. In his mind he could still just hear some mumblings but they were starting to get a little clearer. Just a few more hours, he thought to himself as he got up and exited the train with the stream of departing passengers. From his pocket he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the only number he could think of.

?You?ve reached the voicemail box of??

?Figures.. She would have it off the one time I really NEED to get a hold of her,? Brooklyn muttered as the number was spat out followed by the tone prompting him to leave his message. ?Hey, Bridgette it?s Brooklyn. Look, I know we were going to meet up tonight but I need to skip town like yesterday. If you don?t mind going by my place and shutting off the breaker box that would be really helpful. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. I don?t know how long my battery will last but if you need to get a hold of me just send me a text message. I?ll call you when I can.? He disconnected the call as he exited the station and headed towards the Chase bank.


Alex Star had gone to the most obvious of places when he lost track of Brooklyn only to find that Brooklyn was not at his apartment. Silently he walked through the cramped living space, making sure to not disturb any of the ikea furniture or decorations. ?Living the cheap and high life at the same time, Teagues,? Alex murmured softly to himself as he stared at pictures that Brooklyn had taken. ?Helloooo? red.? He looked at a picture of Brooklyn with his arms around a stunning redheaded woman standing on the rooftop of some party. ?Hmm, if I don?t find you? maybe I?ll try to find her instead.? His voice was a little more than a whisper then as he moved on to search for any clues as to where Brooklyn might go when he caught sight of an envelope addressed to Brooklyn from Chase Bank. ?Oh surely it can?t be this easy.?


?Yes, Alex, it can be this easy,? Brooklyn muttered as he stared across the street from the Chase bank through the window of the Sun Sai Gai restaurant, a piece of roast pork held between his chopsticks before he placed them in his mouth. He had gone to the bank and emptied his account earlier along with his safety deposit box. Now it was Alex?s turn to leave the bank, the crescent tattoo giving him away. ?And now the hunter becomes the hunted,? he added after swallowing the piece of meat. Fifty dollars were left on the table. The least he could pay for having used their restaurant as a hiding place for a few hours and a fifteen dollar meal.

If it becomes necessary to claim a bounty on a recent lover, make sure you give them a thirty minute head start out of the bed... really once the sheets are cool is a good unit of measure. - From Bridgette?s personal code of conduct.

The fact she?d found Brooklyn in this place didn?t strike her as odd, perhaps it should have but after a few minutes of being near the man she felt at ease, something hard for her to find. The way he rolled with her eccentric nature pleased her to no end, even when she called him ?Sugar Plum? or, in a very public fashion, implied that he was a little on the light side... ?Dahling Sugar Plum, wherever is your Biffy? How did he let you out of the house looking like this!? She had drawled at him, her British accent allowed free reign to wreck the words. Oh, he?d gotten a few shots in before she dropped the act but he was just so much fun. There was another in the Inn that night, Jinx, and he seemed like he would be fun but not in a sugar plumy kind of way.

The fact that they were in a tangle of sheets and body parts when she woke that morning was also nothing odd, it was just how they were when they were in close proximity. Drawing in a breath and exhaling slowly as she tried to figure out what she wanted to do next. He seemed to be asleep but that was rarely a good indicator of what was actually going on with Brooklyn.

The two of them were as alike in some aspects as they were different in others. She would be sad if a large enough bounty were to come along that she felt the need to take him in. There was a part of her that thought she might take it upon herself to free him after she collected but there was no need to share that with him, she wouldn?t want him to just allow her to bring him in... professional pride.

Keeping a tight leash on her thoughts, he had a habit of peeking when he shouldn?t as she rolled over on her side. Usually she kept her back from facing anyone, a bit self-conscious about the scars there. Two stripes ran down her back, each an inch or so from either side of her spine, running from the top of her shoulder blades down to just below her ribs. The stripes were about two inches thick and the scar tissue always looked a perpetual pink as though they were fresh scars. They weren?t, they were quite old but that didn?t seem to bother them, they just kept looking like it was a recent trauma.

The first time Brooklyn had seen them he?d reacted, everyone did, now he didn?t seem to react but she still always felt exposed. Reaching for her discarded shirt and pulling it on, she could feel him shifting on the bed now, a subtle way to tell her he was awake. ?Time to go to work. Do try to have the dinner on the table before I get home so I don?t have to beat you.? Flashing him a wide grin over her shoulder before grabbing her pants and the gun she had stashed under the pillow and heading for the bathroom to clean herself up.

The first night they?d spent together he learned a few things about her beyond the scars. They both enjoyed a bit of bed sport, and that she didn?t sleep anywhere without a gun beneath her head. There was still so much they didn?t know about each other and she was fairly sure that was why they got along. Others might not see it like that, they argued almost constantly but none of it held any truth. No real anger from her looked much different, she was all fire and rage until she turned ice cold and then people tended to get hurt.

When she slipped out of the bathroom he was acting like he was asleep to allow her a quick and quiet exit. She appreciated that he did that for her, anything else just felt awkward and she hated awkward. Besides it was time to start sniffing about for her mark again... he was here, she just knew it.

There was something about Arlin Du'Masseuir that rankled Jet. It could have been the way he greeted Brooklyn, edged with a hatred that she could not allow to be directed at the man. He was not, by any definition, her man, but she did feel somewhat proprietary toward him at the oddest times. It did not help that she?d caught Brooklyn looking at her in a way that might suggest that same type of... mine mentality.

Despite the fact that Arlin?s presence left a bad taste in her mouth she could not help but admit that he had some brilliant toys. His catalog of weaponry and defensive devices was impressive, and Jet did not impress easily. Beyond that he had mentioned wanting to hire her to retrieve an item off of Vegas. As he was already her target of the month she was not opposed to adding an item to the retrieval list, especially not if she could profit.

The way he spoke of the item told her that she could, and did, ask for an outrageous amount. He hedged only a moment but a sharp, ?I will not negotiate on this.? From her seemed enough to get him to relent. She suspected that she had aimed too low on the price from his alacrity but what was done was done and she had gotten free reign to ?borrow? items from his company for the purpose of the job. Without knowing what technology or, the heavens? forbid, magic protected Vegas she had gone wide with the items she chose.

There was another avenue she was pursuing as well, a contact she?d had for years that seemed to know just what items were required to take down a mark. The woman?s name was Hannah, as far as she knew that was all she was ever called. That didn?t bother her as she rarely gave out more than ?Jet? to those she met. The woman came up with the oddest solutions and she did not disappoint, handing Jet a length of silvery rope and telling her it would do the trick against Vegas. It was strong enough, she tested it and found that it did not break even when she was trying her hardest. Still she was hard pressed to see how a length of silvery rope was going to bring this annoyingly strong man to his knees.

There was something about the timing that felt off to her as well. What were the odds that this man wanted an object from her current mark? Add that to the growing sensation of someone searching for her and it left her unbalance and ill-at-ease. This translated into some bumpy nights for Brooklyn, some of that spilling over onto the pixie she had found in this town. If not for the two of them she might have been set adrift, the strong breeze that Vegas created enough to dislodge her flimsy hold on herself.

Armed and armored she left her flat in search of Vegas again... if she?d known how the day would go she would have just hunted down Jinx or Brooklyn...at least with the pain they gave her she received an equal amount of pleasure, Vegas gave her no such courtesy.