by Captain Sammitch
Bullets flew, shattering clay, ceramic, wood, metal, and men. The normally peaceful garden at the heart of Central Park had been transformed into a war zone. Men in black uniforms fought each other and uniformed policemen, and Phil Smith darted here and there in the dark, dodging bullets and trying to get to Gabriela.
Gabi was terrified.
She was surrounded by NYPD officers, but she was far more afraid of the men in black uniforms that seemed to be fighting each other. Fisher was nowhere to be seen, but his car was sitting ten feet away. And it was running.
The cops seemed more intent on fighting the FBI and MAW agents than on getting her into a patrol car. Gabi seized the opportunity and scrambled over to the black Lincoln, ignoring the chill of the night air across her backside. She stepped across the bodies of Fisher's guards, found the door unlocked, and threw it open to find the Colt Phil had given her. She grabbed it and noticed it wasn't loaded. Exasperated, she threw it aside - and her gaze fell on one of the dead guards' MP5s. A grin spread across Gabi's face as she picked up the automatic and turned around slowly.
An arm wrapped around her neck, and Gabi felt a Beretta pushed against her temple.
She dropped the gun.
Fisher dragged her behind the car. "I need collateral," he growled. "You're not going anywhere."
"Phil!" Gabi cried.
Phil whirled around as Gabi's scream pierced the air. The NYPD officers turned to see Fisher holding his sidearm to Gabriela's head. The cops tried to get to the defenseless girl, but Fisher scooped up the MP5 and cut down two of them. "Nobody move!" he shouted.
The FBI agents moved in to help the NYPD, but the remaining MAW agents formed a protective circle around Fisher. "I'm leaving now," Fisher declared, "and you can have your suspect."
"Help!" Gabi cried.
"Let her go," Gant said, flanked by Patterson and Hall, the commander of the unit of FBI operatives that had turned on Fisher. "She's not who you want."
"She'll get me who I want," Fisher insisted. "If you want her, come and get her."
A shadow flew from the darkness. Phil ran full-tilt across the garden, leapt onto a concrete statue, and vaulted over the heads of the FBI agents and policemen. He landed right in front of the MAW agents, who converged on him like a swarm of ants on a dropped apple core. Phil began pummeling the agents, landing blow after blow as he plowed his way through the knot of MAW operatives.
"Hold your fire!" Hall ordered. "We can't risk hitting Smith!"
Phil let off a telekinetic blast that threw the MAW agents off of him. He leapt back and drew his .44 - and a bullet hit his left shoulder.
Phil gasped in pain. Just as he feared, his shield had failed him. He reeled backward.
The FBI agents surged forward as Fisher darted for the car. He shoved Gabi into the back seat, leapt into the driver's seat, and gunned the engine.
Phil got to his feet. The pain still surged through him, but not nearly as much as it had before. In fact, it looked as though the bleeding had stopped, and Phil could move his left arm as though nothing were wrong with it. If anything, the pain sharpened his senses - and angered him even more. He drew the Ingrams again and advanced on the crowd of MAW agents.
"Phil!" Gant called to him.
Phil turned.
"Don't do it!" Gant shouted. He pointed to Fisher's car, which was starting to pull away. "Stop him!"
Phil looked at him, then at the car, and then at the MAW agents.
He made up his mind.
"I'm going!" he said.
"I'll be waiting," Gant told him.
Phil nodded, then took off after the car.
Things were not going well for Special Agent Steve Fisher.
With the meeting in the garden descending into chaos, Fisher decided to cut his losses and get the hell out of Dodge. Grabbing Gabi provided him with a little collateral - enough to keep the NYPD at a safe distance while being sure that Smith wouldn't disappear any time soon.
He had clearly underestimated the metahuman. Either that, or Phil Smith was just plain crazy. Fisher had offered him what Annunziata had suggested, and Smith had turned him down flat. Not even the promise of finding his identity was enough to convince him to see things Fisher's way.
He would have to do this the hard way.
"You can't do this!" Gabi shouted at him.
"That's odd," Fisher said quietly, "seeing as I'm doing it right now."
"He'll stop you," Gabi said. "Phil won't rest until either I'm back with him or you're dead. Probably both."
Fisher turned to her, his face reddening. "Do you want me to kill you right now?"
"Try it," Gabi said, brandishing the freshly-loaded Colt. She aimed it at the dashboard and fired.
Sparks flew from the destroyed radio. Gabi fired the Colt again, and the climate-control system blew in a hail of sparks. Another shot, and smoke began to rise from who knew where as Fisher's gauges went dead. Gabi fired a little lower down, and a bullet passed through the firewall and smashed into the engine block.
Smoke poured from the engine - thick, black, oily, and noxious smoke that Fisher couldn't ignore. He started to open the window, but the smoke was proving to be too much. Gabi blasted the door lock across the back seat from her, kicked the door open, and leapt out onto the grass beside the service road. Fisher pointed the MP5 in that direction and fired blindly, but couldn't tell if he had hit anything.
Fisher slowed the car to a halt and ejected the empty magazine from the gun. He started to insert a fresh magazine when the driver's side window was smashed, the door was yanked open, and Phil Smith dragged Fisher from the car bodily. He slammed Fisher to the ground and pointed his gun at the MAW director's face.
"Where's your plan getting you now?" Phil shouted at him. Fisher looked and saw to his horror that the wound in Phil's shoulder had almost completely healed. "Your control's evaporating, Fisher," Phil said flatly. "If you have a backup plan for saving your sorry ass, I suggest you pull it out now."
Fisher went for his sidearm, but Phil planted a foot on Fisher's right arm, pinning it to the ground. "This was the same position Vargas was in when he died, you know," Phil said in a voice that sent a chill down Fisher's spine.
Fisher shook his head. "Smith! We can negotiate! Really!"
"I don't negotiate with things like you," Phil said coldly. He brought the butt of his .44 down on the side of Fisher's head and everything went dark.
Phil got up slowly. "Are you okay?" he asked Gabi, who came running up behind him.
"I'm okay," Gabi said. "Is your shoulder hurting?"
Phil shook his head. "Not really. I don't know why." He looked around. "We gotta get out of here." He grabbed Gabi's hand, and they ran off in the direction of the maintenance garage.