by Captain Sammitch
Thursday, 0900 hours
The doorbell rang for the fourth time.
"I'm not answering that," Phil mumbled.
"Me neither," Gabriela murmured next to him.
The doorbell rang a fifth time.
"Fine." Phil reluctantly got out of bed and slipped into a black cotton robe. He draped the blankets back over Gabi and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be right back," he told her.
Phil smoothed his short brown hair enough to look presentable and answered the door.
"Mike?"
Mike Flannery nodded. "Yeah. It's me. Can I come in?"
"Well, Mike," Phil said, "I'm not sure if this is a good time..."
Mike laughed. "Nine in the morning. I know."
"How did you find me, anyway?"
Mike leaned against the open door. "Same way we found that apartment building. I located your signature when you were placing online orders and traced your IP address here."
Phil chuckled. "You're good, Flannery. So what do you want?"
"I'm a bit concerned about the turn your work has taken," Flannery said sternly.
"What are you talking about?" Phil asked innocently.
"Come on, Smith," Flannery sighed. "I'm not an idiot. I knew that once you helped me find Sabrina, you'd make this whole crusade another mission of yours. But I'm not sure you're going about it the best way."
"Keep talking."
"I'm pretty sure you know that every cop in this town is looking for you," Flannery said. "You're not helping anyone by making the NYPD use up so much time and manpower trying to find you. I mean, what are you trying to prove?"
Phil smiled. "I don't know. You tell me."
Flannery looked at him. "Talk to me here."
Mike Flannery's agitation turned to surprise when a short Hispanic girl with a generous hourglass figure walked up behind Phil. "Who's this, honey?" she asked in that unmistakable just-got-up tone of voice.
"Go back inside, please." Phil's voice remained quiet and consistent. Gabi reluctantly obeyed. Phil looked at Flannery. "Why are you asking me these questions?"
Flannery shrugged. "I just want answers."
"You just want answers," Phil replied, "because you're wearing a wire."
"What do you mean?" Flannery asked.
Phil smiled. "Have a nice day, Mike. Get out of town. Go back to your family. You don't need to be here." He ushered the dumbfounded Flannery out and closed and locked the door.
Mike Flannery shook his head as he walked off down the street. He turned the corner and stopped in his tracks as a black Lincoln rolled up and stopped next to him.
"Get in," Fisher said. "We heard enough."
Flannery opened the back passenger-side door and got in. He didn't say anything, but he stared out the window as the car rolled down the street.
"Relax, Mike," Fisher said. "You're doing your country a favor."
"You're a real bastard, Fisher," Flannery snapped. "How am I supposed to live with myself after selling out someone who saved my little girl's life?"
"There's much more to it than that," Fisher insisted. "Besides, he's a meta. They aren't people."
"He may have killed fourteen guys, but Phil Smith is way more human than you'll ever be, Fisher."
Fisher snorted. "Your opinion doesn't really matter to me. Do you really want to go down for impeding a Federal investigation? You'll never see your little Sabrina again, I can tell you that for sure. Smith's going down, Flannery, like it or not. There are three ways he's leaving this town. One, he gets caught and lives out the rest of his life - however long the bastards live - in the Federal can in Marion, Illinois. Two, he turns himself in willingly and serves the scientific community as a test subject, undergoing psychological, physiological, and biological tests. Guinea pig, lab rat, whatever you want to call it. Three, he puts up a fight and winds up in a box. It's that simple. Emotions are liabilities, Flannery. Don't let them get in the way."
Flannery sighed and stared out the window. He doubted that those three options were the only plans Fisher had made. And he hoped there was still a way to redeem himself.
"Damn!" Phil stormed back to his room.
"What's going on?" Gabi asked.
"That was Mike Flannery," Phil said. "And I'm positive he was wearing a wire for the FBI."
"How do you know?" Gabi asked, slipping out of her bathrobe.
"Flannery wouldn't have any reason to find me," Phil said. "If he tied me to the Unidentified Man investigation, then he would know that the authorities would be after me, and he would make sure he went somewhere they couldn't find him. My guess is that he left the whole thing alone until the FBI came knocking. Flannery would never sell me out, Gabi. He owes me, big time. The FBI got to him somehow, and he caved."
"So what should we do?" Gabi asked, struggling back into her tight leather pants.
"We've gotta go. Now."
"Go where?" Gabi's hefty bosom was confounding her efforts to get into her bright red spandex top. She struggled and almost fell off the edge of the bed. Phil caught her, helped her with her top, and kissed her on the forehead.
"Gabriela, this is your last chance to get out if you want out," Phil said softly. "If you've changed your mind, there's still a chance that you can get out of this."
"But Phil," Gabi argued, "Flannery saw me with you."
"He won't talk," Phil insisted.
"But I did," Gabi maintained. "Flannery heard it, and it must have gotten picked up by the microphone."
"They won't be able to prove that in court. And besides," Phil said, "I'm the one Fisher's after. They don't know that you're a metahuman, and there's no evidence tying you to anything I've done. You leave now, and you can get clear of this before things get ugly."
Gabi embraced Phil and kissed him passionately. "I told you, I'm not leaving you. Whatever happens to you happens to both of us." She handed him his clothes. "Get dressed. We're running."
"Don't you want to at least go back to your dorm room and get your things?" Phil asked.
"Look who you're talking to," Gabi said coyly. "I can be there and back in a flash. Literally."
Phil smiled. "If you say so."
"My roommate won't be there," Gabi said. "I left the door locked and the blinds closed. Nobody will even know I'm there."
"Fine," Phil said. "But be careful." He walked into the study and returned with a Colt M1911. "Oldie but a goodie," he said, handing her the .45 with a smile. "Ever use one of these?"
Gabi shook her head, dumbfounded.
"Well, take it with you. Just in case."
Gabi nodded. She closed her eyes, and in an instant, she was gone.
Phil heaved a deep sigh. He got dressed and started gathering his things.
Time was running out.