by Captain Sammitch
The Barrage
Phil and Gabi were back at the bar after the most enjoyable half-hour Phil could remember.
"You... you've got some moves!" Gabi panted. "That was unreal!"
Phil smiled. "That was fun."
"If we do this every night," Gabi panted, "I'll lose about forty pounds by the end of the month!"
"That would be a shame," Phil muttered.
Gabi grabbed his arm. "I heard that," she said, grinning at him. "You really do like thicker women, don't you?"
"Gabriela," Phil answered, "I told you that looks aren't my main concern. But since you asked, I definitely prefer a woman of substance - as long as she's got everything together on the inside."
Gabi blushed.
"But again, that's just me. And to be perfectly honest, I haven't really given as much thought to how beautiful you are as to how much fun I'm having with you. I mean, you're sweet and funny and intelligent, and I can't remember the last time I enjoyed anyone's company this much." And Phil knew that last part was a fact.
"We should do this again," Gabi said.
Phil smiled. "I'd like that. Unfortunately, I don't know how much longer I'll be in New York."
Gabi's smile faded. "Really?"
Phil nodded. "Yeah. Once my work here is done, I'm probably going to move on. I am an independent consultant, Gabi."
Gabi inched closer to him. "Maybe you could stay a while... for me?"
Phil thought hard. "I'll... I'll think about it," he finally said. "You're definitely the main reason I'd want to stay, though."
Gabi grinned. "That's good to hear." She looked around. "It's getting a bit late. You really wanna stay here?"
Phil smirked. "What about your friends?"
"Terri left with about six frat brothers, and Stacy took off with that guy about twenty minutes ago."
Phil's eyebrows went up. "Really?"
Gabi nodded. "It's just us, sweetie."
"In that case," Phil asked, "where do you wanna go?"
"We can do downtown for a little bit if you want. Or," Gabi said with a smile, "we can head for your place."
"I think I'll try Option B," Phil said. "We can just-"
"Hey! It's him!"
Phil whirled around to see a patron at the bar pointing to the TV. "Turn it up!"
The bartender obliged.
...Geoff Kyle here in the newsroom with this composite sketch of the Unidentified Man, released by the NYPD and FBI based on several eyewitness accounts. A black-and-white composite was projected on the screen. It wasn't too far off at all. A chill went down Phil's spine.
The police say they're looking for a man in his late twenties or early thirties, matching this description. The Unidentified Man is about five-foot-ten, with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a compact yet powerful build. Eyewitnesses place him on the near West Side, but the FBI cautions against approaching the suspect, as he should be considered extremely dangerous even when unarmed. The FBI speculates that the Unidentified Man has extensive intelligence training and thus is able to blend into any crowd and pass himself off as just about anyone. If you think you've encountered this suspect, please call the police and inform them rather than approaching this dangerous individual. For more information...
Phil stood up. "Yeah, maybe we should go somewhere safe. I don't feel comfortable with crazies like that running around."
Gabi got up, and the two of them headed for the door.
"HEY! That's him right there!"
A girl in a red leather miniskirt pointed right at Phil.
"That's the Unidentified Man! He's right here!"
Every eye in the place locked on Phil.
Phil breathed a time-honored phrase about the sanctity of fecal matter and started toward the door.
A huge man in a fraternity sweatshirt blocked his path. "I wouldn't go anywhere if I were you."
"Call the cops!" someone yelled.
Gabi jumped up on a table. "Don't you do this to my husband!" The big guy actually took a step backward. "He's no killer! What's wrong with you people?"
Phil gawked at Gabriela, who jumped off the table and put an arm around Phil's waist. "Let's get out of here, honey," she snapped, moving him toward the exit.
They managed to get out of The Barrage without further incident. Phil stopped when they reached the sidewalk in front of the club. "We better get out of here," he stammered.
"Why?" Gabi looked at him questioningly.
"That's why," Phil said, pointing to a small flotilla of police cars rounding the corner.
"We'll take my car," Gabi said. "It's across the street."
"We'll never get there," Phil insisted. A police cruiser had screeched to a halt ten feet away.
"Put a gun to my head," Gabriela said to him under her breath.
"What?"
"I know who you are," Gabi said. "Put a gun to my head and they'll let you past them."
Phil gaped at her. "What are you talking about?"
"No time for games," Gabi insisted. "We gotta get out of here."
Phil reluctantly drew the .44 and put it to Gabi's head. "I'm sorry, Gabi," he said sadly.
"Just move," Gabi muttered.
"That's far enough!" an NYPD patrolman barked, training his .38 on Phil.
"Don't hurt me!" Gabi shrieked. "Don't let him hurt me!" she yelled at the policemen.
Phil inched his way across the street carefully. "I really don't wanna hurt her!" he warned the cops. "Don't give me a reason to!" Gabi started to struggle with him. "Don't make me!" he shouted. "How am I doing?" he asked Gabi softly.
"Doin' good," Gabi breathed. "Keep it up!" She turned to the police. "Please let him get in the car! I don't wanna die!"
At long last, they finally crossed the street and came to Gabi's car. "Where are the keys?" Phil asked her, still pointing the gun at her.
Gabi fished her keys out of her purse and slipped them to him behind her back. Phil opened the passenger door and pushed her inside. "Stay there!" he shouted as he slammed the door, keeping the gun trained on her as he walked around to the driver's side.
Right about now...
It might not have hurt him, but the impact of the FBI sharpshooter's bullet hurt like crazy. Phil gasped and fought off the pain as another round glanced off the quarter-panel of the car and ricocheted off his right leg. He managed to open the door and jump in the car without being hit by anything else. He cranked the engine, slammed the door, and floored the gas.
The Mustang GT's tires spun before grabbing the pavement and launching Phil and Gabi down the street. The patrol cars took off after them.
"Look out!" Gabi shouted. Four NYPD cruisers blocked the street ahead. Phil jumped the curb and squeezed past the leftmost cruiser on the sidewalk. The roadblock wound up hurting the cops, as the convoy of patrol cars waited for the stopped cruisers to back around and let them by.
"They're gonna catch us!" Phil insisted as he dodged traffic on both sides.
"I got it handled," Gabi insisted. "Give me a moment."
Phil didn't bother asking her if she had seen him repel the two sniper bullets.
A police helicopter zoomed overhead, and Steve Fisher's voice came over the loudspeaker. "Pull over, Smith," he called. "Nobody's gonna get hurt if you cooperate."
Phil ignored him and dodged a lumbering city bus.
"I want to talk!" Fisher insisted. "Please don't hurt the girl."
Phil kept driving. "They're gonna catch us. It's just a matter of time, Gabriela."
"Shut up and drive!" Gabi yelled at him.
Phil obeyed.
Ahead of him, two cruisers and two SWAT vans had completely blocked the street.
"There's no way around!" Phil shouted.
Gabi didn't answer.
"I don't know what to do!" Phil insisted.
Gabi didn't answer.
"If you're gonna do something, do it NOW!"
The world outside the Mustang seemed to flicker suddenly, and Phil suddenly found himself driving down the Brooklyn Bridge.
Phil immediately slowed to a safer speed. "What... what happened?" he stammered.
Gabi smiled at him. "I moved us." She shook her head slightly and massaged her temples. "I'm a metahuman. I can teleport things using my mind."
Phil just shook his head.
"You're a telepath," Gabi said. "And a kinetic. Why didn't you do anything?"
"I didn't want them - or you - to see," Phil insisted.
"They must already know by now," Gabi said. "Otherwise they would have done a lot more shooting."
Phil looked at her.
"You stopped those two sniper bullets," Gabi told him, "because you knew they would be coming. You've got some sort of shield effect that protects you from danger - at least when you are expecting it. If they didn't know that before, then they know by now."
"You're probably right," Phil conceded as he made his way toward his apartment. "So what should we do now?"
"We're going to your place," Gabi said flatly.
"Are you nuts?"
"Look, mister," Gabi said, "I knew who you were, and I got you out of that club. I used my powers and got you away from the cops. Why? Because you took a chance on me in that club, and I thought you deserved similar courtesy. You gotta trust me, like it or not. I wanna help you."
"You knew?" Phil asked.
"I'm not dumb," Gabi said. "I figured it out a few seconds before that chick in leather did. I knew you had some sort of secret. And I figured that if you were as resourceful as the FBI said you were, then it wasn't illogical to think you could go to a dance club without worrying. More importantly, I knew why you were there. You were lonely. So am I. And if you thought I was worth a second look, then who am I to deny you a second chance?"
Phil couldn't think of anything to say.
"We're going to your place," Gabi repeated.
Phil nodded.