Grey Matter, Part 2

1.

Grey sits as rigidly still as he can. The twins stare at him with predatory amusement.

"I don't know about you, Kestrel, but I wasn't expecting our little chat to end up like this," Margot tuts.

"Not like this at all, Dandelion," her brother replies.

Dozens of questions bash against each other in Grey's mind. He grabs onto the loudest one. "Why are you doing this?"

"We're not doing anything, bro." Mateo's voice is hard and cold. "You're the one who swooped in where you don't belong and started asking questions you shouldn't ask. Who are you working for now? NSA? CIA?"

"You guys have this all wrong. I'm not working for anyone."

Margot's nose pinches with derision. "Don't lie to us anymore, Spectre. It's such a loathsome habit."

"I'm not-"

The metallic click under the table again. A grim reminder that it's there, as if Grey had forgotten. He wonders if Eoin is watching this exchange. Why did he have to tell the man to keep his distance?

Stupid, Grey thinks to himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"We have two options here," Margot says as she nests her sharp chin between her hands. "You can tell us who you're working for or Kestrel can put a bullet in your stomach."

Grey looks at him. "You wouldn't. Not in a public place."

"Dandelion and I would be gone before your corpse could hit the floor. And I've got a CCTV footage scrambler right next to my spare clip."

Grey's mouth feels very dry. He knows he's risking a lot by what he's about to say, but he needs to see their faces when he does. "You're both still using your call signs. Echelon 7 is back, isn't it? And it hired you two as counterintelligence."

Their faces all but confirm it. "You were always such a pest," Margot sighs. "Nothing's changed."

He swallows a rising lump in his throat. The questions in his mind become increasingly panicked. Borderline hysterical, in fact. Why is Echelon 7 back? Has the program gone rogue? Who are the directors now? And why is their counterintelligence unit stonewalling him so aggressively when they could be working together to bring down Marek's benefactor? Unless... and the next thought chills him to the bone because it makes too much sense...

Unless Echelon 7 is Marek's benefactor.

Margot's lips curl into a cruel smile. "Look at that. I think Spectre might have figured something out."

"Yes. Something important, Dandelion."

"And now we might need to put that bullet in you after all. This is such a shame."

Mateo shakes his head. "You never did learn how to hide what you're thinking."

"Bet you're terrible at poker."

"Then it's true," Grey whispers to himself. He's so focused on the sneering faces of the twins - and the hidden gun - that he's startled when one of the café's servers shows up at their table.

"Hi, folks!" the server, young and friendly and hopelessly unaware to the tension he just stepped into, smiles and waves. "Couldn't help but notice no one's served you yet. Our apologies for the wait."

Mateo's sneer fades into a frown. "We're fine, thank you."

"Actually," Grey starts, his heart in his throat. "I'm a little thirsty."

The twins glare at him. Margot's impeccable eyelashes flutter like angry butterfly wings.

"No problem-o. What can I-"

"Iced coffee. Milk. No sugar. In the tallest glass you have. Bring it on a tray, please. Thank you."

"Coming right up. And can I get anything for-"

"I said we're fine, bro," Mateo barks.

The server, now with an odd look on his face, quickly disappears to the barista bar.

"Cute," Margot says, "But you're stalling. We know all your tricks, Spectre, so just be honest for once. Tell us who you work for."

"Or die," her brother adds impatiently. "I know which one has my vote."

Grey listens as his drink is prepared several feet away. Ice cubes tumble, glass clinks, cool liquid stirs. A glass is set on a tray. A throat clears. Footsteps.

He inhales, deeply, tensing his muscles. "You're wrong," Grey says as their server approaches with the tall glass on a tray.

Margot's eyes narrow. "About what?"

"You don't know all my tricks."

And then Grey kicks out from his chair and sweeps the legs of their server. The tray tips and iced coffee splashes all over Mateo's face and chest. Grey launches over the table and tackles the brother to the ground. There are screams, chairs toppling over, and people running. He wrestles Mateo for control of the gun for several tense seconds before successfully disarming him. The weapon skitters across the floor. Grey runs for it, dodging panicked café patrons, until a thin metal rod slams into his chest and forces him to the floor.

Margot appears, twirling a solid iron Bo staff a meter in length. "Tricky boy. Tricky, tricky, tricky."

"Where were you even hiding that?" Grey asks incredulously.

She strikes downward but Grey darts to the side before it can connect. He springs to his feet as Margot comes at him again. He continues dodging, barely, as the staff slices the air around him like a knife. He throws everything he can get his hands on, cups, spoons, empty water jugs, but Margot slashes them all out of the way. She matches every kick and counters every punch with the solid end of her staff. At Grey's labored movements, she laughs.

"Only 25 and dreadfully out of practice. Kestrel would've done you a favor by shooting you."

She lunges forward - exactly what Grey waited for - and then he kicks a chair into her path. Margot's momentum trips her up and she crashes to the ground.

The gun. Grey sees it just a moment before Mateo swoops in and grabs it off the floor. His face and chest are dripping wet with cold coffee.

"You're fast, Spectre." He takes off the safety and aims it square at Grey's face. "Not fast enough."

A split second before he can pull the trigger, a metal hand closes over the barrel and crushes it with tremendous strength. Eoin opens his palm and lets the shards fall uselessly to the floor. Mateo's look of shock lasts only until Eoin punches him clear across the room. He lands, unconscious, on an overturned table.

Grey, impressed: "I was wondering when you were gonna chime in."

"You're welcome."

Grey scans the destroyed café. The twins lie injured and unmoving. "Are you going to say 'I told you so'?"

"No. But rest assured I am thinking it."

Not long after the duo disappears, Margot hauls herself into a sitting position. Blood from a nasty cut trickles down her forehead. Several feet away, her brother starts coming to. He clutches his bruised face and groans. She taps the signal receiver in her ear.

"It's Dandelion. We have a problem. Spectre's gone rogue."

2.

"Wait," Captain Alpha rubs his tired eyes. "Who do I have to punch?"

Silas chuckles as he leans against the chamber wall. "Sounds like the Terrible Twosome over there did all the punching for you, Cap."

"So, I'm not punching anyone? Why was I called down in the middle of work again?"

The Blades, all in one place for the first time since the museum mission, gather around Forward's crystal obelisk. Grey examines them individually: Captain Alpha, working a stick of gum and wishing he was anywhere but here; Silas, relaxed and bemused as always; Eoin, cool and silent, standing at attention with his hands behind his back.

"I called this meeting because..." Grey swallows a lump in his throat. "I think I might be in trouble."

Silas frowns. "In trouble how? I reckon these twins started the fight, not you."

"Bigger trouble than that. The program that made me into the adorable spy-slash-human-weapon you see before you isn't as dead in the water as I thought. It was called Echelon 7."

Captain Alpha shrugs his massive shoulders. "Any time an evil organization tried to flex its muscles on my world, I just hit it with some laser beam eyes. Bing, bang, boom. Done and dusted."

Silas raises his hand. "I vote for the laser beam eyes."

"This is more complicated than that."

"Kid, trust me on this. You deal with one evil org, you've dealt with them all. The Assembly of Doom, the Vile Company, the Chaos League, they're all the same damn thing in the end. Though I might give them a bonus point if their name is abbreviated. It's been a while since I heard from an E.V.I.L. or a D.A.R.K."

"But these aren't supervillains scheming in some hideout, Alph."

Silas makes a noise of surprise. "Awfully charitable of you, considering they almost put a bullet in your belly."

"Look, I get it, the twins are bad news. But Echelon 7 is bigger than you guys realize and they're tied into very powerful systems. We can't go in guns or laser beam eyes blazing until we know why they're back and why they're running counterintelligence so aggressively."

"He's right." It's the first thing Eoin's said since the meeting was called. Grey notices the other two men standing a little straighter. "We need to understand our enemy to defeat them."

Silas nods toward the obelisk. "Any thoughts on this, crystal face?"

"Listen to Grey," Forward intones. "His experience with this organization is valuable. And do not call us crystal face."

Captain Alpha catches his gaze. "Then what's the next step, kid?"

"Echelon 7 hiring Marek's company means a few things. First, it means they're playing dirty now. I wasn't privy to everything going on when I was a trainee, but as far as I knew, domestic terrorism wasn't a line item on the budget."

Captain Alpha: "But that Marek shithead wasn't an operative, was he?"

"No. That had to have been a shadow contract. Built-in deniability, no one ever connects them to the attack."

Silas: "Except us."

"Except Grey," Eoin corrects.

He allows himself an appreciative grin before he continues. "Lastly, with the directed attack on the museum, it has to mean they know about the multigate inside."

Silas: "But what's their dang interest in it?"

"Exactly what we need to find out," Grey finishes. "Best case scenario is they're planning on taking a selfie in front of the thing."

Eoin: "I don't believe in best case scenarios."

Silas: "Neither do I."

Captain Alpha: "None of us do. It might be the only thing we all have in common."

"Maybe not the only thing," Silas says with a wink that's met with groans and eye rolls.

Eoin: "The museum. We need to investigate it after hours."

Captain Alpha: "Tonight? I've got plans."

Silas: "You can down another bottle of cheap whiskey after we save the world."

"It wasn't cheap whiskey."

"Brother, I know that label. I'm surprised it didn't come in a jug."

"I was having a bad night."

"What, twenty nights in a row?"

"I was having a bad month."

"Enough," Eoin cuts in. "Forgive us, Captain, but your plans can wait until we are off-mission. We need to secure the multigate before Echelon 7 get their hands on it."

"I agree." Grey pauses and makes a face. "Anyone else think it's weird to agree with something Eoin says?"

Captain Alpha: "It even sounded weird."

Eoin ignores them. "We'll start after the museum closes tonight. Grey, can you work out an infiltration strategy?"

"Already did," Grey taps the side of his head. He starts up the stairs. "I just need to grab a few things from my place."

Eoin: "Wait. On your own? I don't think that's wise."

"I don't usually need another person's help using public transit. But if you guys want another lesson, I am begging you, please don't wear your battle outfits this time."

Silas: "The twins'll be looking for you, darlin'. You figured out what the black hats are twirling their mustaches over. That makes you a target."

Grey waves a dismissive hand in the air. "I'll be-"

"Don't say you'll be fine," Eoin interrupts. "Just an hour ago you said the twins wouldn't be a threat."

"I handled it, didn't I? I was able to distract them with the server-"

"The server I sent to your table because I noticed the male twin's weapon."

Grey's mouth opens but he doesn't reply. Silas catches him with a 'Oohh, busted' look.

Eoin: "You're our window into this world. We can't risk anything happening to you."

Silas nods. "You said it yourself at the top of the meeting, partner. You're in trouble. That means you need our help."

Eoin: "And we're meant to protect each other. All of us."

Captain Alpha, hesitating: "I, um, agree. Man, that really does feel weird."

This exchange gives Grey pause. Being cared for by anyone, let alone the three men he's fought alongside the past couple of months... well, it's a new feeling. A nice one.

"Okay," he breathes. "So, what now? I can't stay in the library forever."

"Do you really need to go back to your place?" Captain Alpha asks.

"Yep, I really do. I've got old gear stowed there that'll help us tonight."

Silas gives his revolvers a loose spin before depositing them back into his hip holsters. "Then I think that means we're coming home with you."

3.

"No one touch anything. Especially Silas."

"What makes you think I'll be touching your stuff?"

"The fact that you're always touching my stuff."

"You only caught me trying on your stealth suit one time."

"Yeah, well, once was enough."

"It didn't even fit past my legs."

Grey and Silas continue bantering as they step off the elevator. It's only a short walk to his apartment door but it feels longer. Captain Alpha and Eoin follow, exchanging tired looks.

"Is this how Grey and I sound when we argue?" Eoin asks.

Captain Alpha considers his answer. "Hmm. Swap out the Southern accent for a British one, trade a 'Hey partner' for a 'Silence, my sword needs cleaning' and, yeah, it's almost there."

Eoin, eyebrow arching: "Almost?"

Grey fishes through his pockets for the apartment keys while Silas goes on a rant about the illusion of privacy.

"The vibe's a little different when you and G go at it."

"What does that mean, the 'vibe' is 'different'?"

"It's just kinda, um, heated between you two. If you know what I mean"

"That's- how- you're- that's a very-" It's not like Eoin to stumble over his words, which makes the knowing smile on the Cap's face that much more damning.

After an eternity of rummaging, Grey finally unlocks the door. "Sorry. My pockets are like bottomless pits sometimes."

Silas blocks the entryway. "Hold it, partner. Let us do a sweep of your place first, make sure it's safe."

"Oh, come on. We took the subway here without anyone trying to kill us, if you don't count that old man with the walking cane."

Captain Alpha: "Hey, I gave up my seat when he asked. Eventually."

"Silas is right," Eoin steps forward. "We must ensure there are no unsavory characters lurking about."

"More unsavory than you three?"

"This isn't funny, Grey."

"It's a little funny. You really think there's an assassin in my apartment? My name isn't even on the lease."

"I think anything's possible now that 'Instagram influencers' are running amok with guns and iron staffs. Now step aside. Silas, you're with me. Captain, stay here with him."

Grudgingly, Grey watches him and Silas enter the apartment. "How long is he going to hold that against me?"

Captain Alpha crosses his arms and grins down at his feet. "Heated…"

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

A woman screams.

Captain Alpha furrows his brow. "Whoever that was sounds like the worst assassin ever."

"Shit," Grey barrels past him.

In the living room, a tense woman in nurse scrubs holds her keys in a defensive stance. "Grey? Who the fuck are these people?"

"We would like to ask the same of yourself, madam," Eoin says with his arms crossed.

"Yeah," Silas nods, "What he said."

"Your input is not needed right now," Eoin hisses over his shoulder.

"Red Ranger, Blue Ranger, both of you stand down. Thea is my sister. I live with her."

"You live with me," she corrects, never taking her eyes off the peculiar men. Similar to her younger brother, she's possessed with a cutting intelligence, sharp green eyes, and glossy black hair. "Grey, why are there two weird men in my apartment?"

"Coming through," Captain Alpha announces as he casually strolls through the front door and into the kitchen.

Thea's mouth twists into a question mark. "Three weird men?"

Grey pinches the space between his eyebrows. "I thought you were at work."

"I had some time between shifts so I thought, like the crazy kook I am, that I'd drop by my own apartment and take a nap on my own bed without being accosted by large, rugged strangers."

The Cap wanders in to join the rest of the group. He loudly pops open a Diet Coke and downs it in one gulp. "I couldn't find any beer, so..."

Thea's small reserve of patience disappears. "Who the fuck are you people?!"

"Trainer!" Grey blabs the first thing that comes to mind. "My trainer!" He gestures to Captain Alpha, pats one of his considerable biceps. "This is... my... trainer. That I see. In a gym. He trains me."

"But we're not in a gym?"

"Right. It's closed today. They have... mold... and... asbestos... and... bed bugs... so I thought we'd use our place. Sorry, I should've texted you first."

Thea eyes the superhero warily. Grey silently prays that the trench coat he made Cap throw over his outfit is enough to sell the lie. She moves onto Silas next. "And who's the one with the tan?"

"My other trainer."

"You have two?"

Grey offers a feeble laugh. "I know, and yet I still look like I could fall through a sewer grate. It takes a village, right?"

"Howdy, ma'am," Silas offers with a tip of his hat. "This might be the first time Grey hasn't been the prettiest one in the room."

Ignoring that remark, Thea lands on Eoin. "Don't tell me this is your third trainer. I don't even know how you're affording two."

Right, Grey thinks. She's not gonna fall for that a third time. "This is my, um..." He stumbles through a mental list of excuses. Plumber? Chimney sweep? Bodyguard?

"Boyfriend," Captain Alpha finishes for him.

"Yep," Silas nods. "Boyfriend."

"They like to work out together. Cutest damn couple I ever did see."

Grey slashes them both with a deadly look. "I don't think that's-"

Thea's fury vanishes instantly. "Oh my god, Grey. You're finally introducing me to a boyfriend? Damn, good for you, little brother."

Eoin stiffens as Thea grabs his hands in an appreciative shake. "I've never met anyone he's dated before. This is like, such a huge deal right now. Hi! I'm Thea. I'm sorry I called you large and strange."

He looks at the other men, wide eyed. Silas and Cap nod imploringly, willing him to go along with the ruse. Grey, bright red, looks at the floor and pinches that space between his eyes again.

"Er. Yes, right. Pleasure to meet you. I'm Eoin."

"God, I love your accent. It's so Mr. Darcy. Where are you from?"

With a somewhat panicked expression, Grey mouths London! at him.

"From... from... Longdah?"

"Huh. I guess that's one of those little English regions no one's ever heard of?"

Grey checks his watch. This whole encounter has been painful, so he's relieved to see they're running late. "Hey, sis, I'm really sorry about this whole thing. It was rude of me not to let you know first."

"Oh, please. Bring your handsome boyfriend and your hot trainers over any time you want."

Silas nudges Cap. "Hear that? We got upgraded."

"Er, appreciated, but I think we'll just get out your hair. I'll grab my workout gear and go. Alph, do you wanna maybe give me a hand?"

Without waiting for the superhero to respond, Grey drags him into his room and shuts the door. Cap rubs at the sore spot on his arm.

"I'm saying this as someone with super strength – ow."

"Boyfriend? Really?"

"If you were a little quicker you would've come up with something better. What kind of spy can't think on his feet, anyway?"

"One who was never good at lying in the first place," Grey says as he pulls a black duffel bag out from under his bed. "Why do you think I left Echelon 7?"

"I don't know," The Cap shrugs as he takes in Grey's bedroom. The walls are adorned with faded posters, mostly horror and arthouse movies. "I don't really know anything about your past."

Grey unzips the bag and rummages through the contents. Among them: smoke bombs, a retractable compact garrote, a non-lethal tranquilizer rifle, and a pair of escrima sticks with electrically charged tips. Memories flicker by, not all of them pleasant.

"Look," the superhero says when the silence stretches too long, "You know we're all doing this to help you out, right?"

"I know. You're right, I'm sorry. It's just been a very strange day."

"How strange?"

"Like, 'the clandestine espionage program I spent seven years training in is now a domestic terrorist organization maybe' kind of strange. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Aiming for the latter, to be honest."

"Ah. I see." Captain Alpha scratches the back of his head. He finds this kind of stuff agonizing. "You'll get through it, okay? I, uh, believe in you."

Grey smiles ruefully. "How painful was that for you to say?"

"Extremely. I don't think it's one of my superpowers."

"You know, when I was a kid," Grey says as he packs a spare stealth suit into the duffel bag, "I always wanted to be best friends with a superhero. I never in a million years thought I'd meet one."

"Sorry to disappoint you, then."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think a whiskey-swilling curmudgeon is what anyone would've expected from a man in a cape. Let alone what anyone would want in a best friend."

Grey zips the bag and hauls it over his shoulders. "Well, is it weird that I want to be friends anyway?"

Captain Alpha looks at him, examines his expression for sarcasm or deception. He finds none. He lets himself smile. "Yeah. Very weird. Weirdo."

Grey extends a hand. "We'll shake on it? Like two weirdos?"

Without warning, he's pulled into a hug instead. Captain Alpha is warm, and smells good, too, like fresh soap and a pine tree. He wonders if this is how Alph used to calm down hysterical citizens on his world. Hell, maybe this is one of his superpowers. The embrace manages to calm Grey's thundering heart, if only for a few moments.

"Thanks," he says when they pull apart. The word comes out surprisingly shy.

"No problem. You looked like you needed it. It was either that or me trying to sound reassuring again."

"Yeah, let's avoid that next time."

4.

At the stroke of midnight, The Blades gather on the roof of the Royal Ontario Museum. Grey perches over the skylight that peers over a collection of suspended dinosaur skeletons. He tinkers with the setting of his goggles for a moment before they retract up to his forehead.

"The guards are finished their patrol of this wing," Grey says. "They shouldn't be back for another hour, it's as good an entry point as any. Eoin, explain how your sword thingy works again?"

"It is not a sword thingy."

"I know, I just like making you say dumb words."

"This is the Spellblade of Eulkryin, the Goddess of War. The Spellblade thrummed with energy when the multigate that brought me here appeared on my world. Since then, it has responded similarly when in the presence of other multigates. I felt a faint energy signature the other week during our takedown of Marek's company."

"Okay. Cool beans. You're coming with me. Silas, you'll be our sniper."

"Here, here," Silas responds as he hefts the tranquilizer rifle. "Thanks again for the new piece. Much as I'd prefer real bullets to sleepy darts."

"I'm trusting that perfect aim of yours to take care of any guards that get the drop on us."

"Don't get your spurs in a twist. I got this."

"Alph, can you do a sweep of the building and watch out for Echelon 7 operatives? And, if need be, give 'em the old razzle dazzle?"

"If I gotta. What should I be looking for?"

"People wearing stealth suits that look exactly like mine."

"Ah, that shouldn't be confusing at all."

"My suit is the only one with blue accents, if that helps."

"So, blue accents mean don't shoot with laser beam eyes."

"I would appreciate that."

The Cap gives a small salute before he lifts off into the night sky. Silas takes his position by one of the rooftop's stone gargoyles. After exchanging a quick nod, Grey and Eoin jump into the open panel of the skylight.

The magic of Eoin's Spellblade cushions their landing with a subtle glow of red light at their feet. Grey takes in the dark, sprawling space of the building. It looks spooky after hours, all shadows and hidden crevices.

"Where should we start?"

Eoin examines the blade. "The energy signature is back, but it's still faint. Wherever the multigate is, it's not in this part of the building."

"Any thoughts on a direction we can take, or should we eenie-meenie-miney-mo it?"

Eoin stabs a finger to a corridor on their right. "Let's go there."

"Wow, executive decision made."

"I just wanted to avoid whatever eenie-meenie-miney-mo-ing it means." A pause. "You really do enjoy making me say the most asinine things, don't you?"

They head to the right. A long passageway leads them out of the dinosaur exhibition and into a large room full of ancient pottery kept inside individual glass display cases.

"Anything yet?"

"No, but the Spellblade's signature is marginally stronger now. We're on the right path."

They continue through the room. Grey catches Eoin's eye a couple of times. It takes him a few moments to summon the words. "Hey, I'm sorry if... I'm sorry about Thea. She's, you know, spirited."

"She seemed thrilled to think you had a partner."

"Thea thinks I'm a loner. Wants me to 'get out there more', says I won't be this young forever."

"Does she know about Echelon 7?"

Grimly, he shakes his head. "My parents didn't either. I, um, ran away when I was 13. That's when I got caught up in the program."

"How long had you trained with them?"

"Seven years." A very familiar gash of shame burrows into Grey's stomach. "My family thought I was dead. By the time I reintegrated back into society... my parents were gone. It was only my sister."

The shame twists like a knife. He doesn't continue, hoping that his silence can fill in the gaps.

"I'm sorry," Eoin says deeply.

"When she asked me what happened, I just told her I wanted to disappear. Which is the truth, technically, but I never told her anything else, and she's never asked about it since then."

When he finds the strength to face Eoin again, he's surprised to see the man looking at him with an expression resembling kindness. Or something close to it. "In the little time I spent with her, I gathered that she only wants you to be happy. And to not be alone."

The shame, while still present, manages to soften. Grey doesn't look away this time. "I'm not alone."

Footsteps, somewhere north of the room. Grey and Eoin fall behind one of the display cases. One peek around the corner reveals two entering guards. The room has a solid ceiling with no windows, there's no way for Silas to intercept.

"You said they wouldn't be back on patrol for an hour," Eoin whispers.

"Give or take."

"Give or take an hour?"

"Shhh." Grey lowers the multi-function goggles back onto his eyes and uses the zoom function. Although the two men are wearing museum security jackets, they don't look like your typical paunchy, middle-aged night guards. "Wait. I think we've got a problem."

Eoin takes a look for himself. The guards move with clipped, tactical precision. They're toned and powerful looking guys with buzzed scalps. Their search of the display room is aggressive and purposeful. "I take it these are no mere watchmen."

One of the men crouches to peer beneath a display bench. His jacket flap opens, revealing an Echelon 7 stealth suit.

"Shit." Grey doubles back, pressing himself flat against the case. "It's them. The black hats."

"What? How?"

"The twins must have known this would be my next move. Fuck."

"Their jackets..."

"They must have taken care of the real guards before we could. Look, as long as we keep quiet, there's no way they'll find us."

"Found them," an operative calls as he appears around the display case.

Grey and Eoin exchange a stunned look. And then the operative whips out a gun and fires. Eoin's shield is already out. The bullets spark off the ancient metal with solid, clattering echoes.

"You two were really loud," the operative grunts. "Like, I know you think you're whispering, but come on."

Grey flings a smoke bomb at the operative's feet and kicks his legs out from under him. The operative quickly springs back, attacking with a kick of his own. It connects to Grey's stomach and slams him against the display case.

"It's a museum, guys. Sound travels. Be more aware."

"Thanks for the advice."

"No worries."

As he advances, Grey lands two blows with his escrima sticks before jamming one end against the operative's neck and firing a pulse of electric energy. By the time the operative drops to the floor, the marble-sized device has hissed out a cloudy mist that shrouds the entire room.

Grey and Eoin start toward the exit when the second operative comes barreling through the smoke. Eoin rams his shield to the man's chest, knocking him off balance. Grey catches the operative's fist and thrusts a kneecap to his stomach. The operative comes back again, albeit staggered and winded now, and after another solid kick to the side of his torso and followed by a bash from Eoin's shield, he's put out for good.

"There'll be more," Eoin says plainly.

"Definitely. Let's get back to the Stetson and the cape. If we can't muscle our way to the multigate we'll need to figure out another approach."

They head back to the display room's exit, or they try to, for the passageway is blocked by a whole crowd of Echelon 7 operatives, each with a gun trained on them. There are at least twenty, and perhaps even more hiding beyond the smoky haze. Margot stands prominently at the front, hair slicked back in a high pony tail and her lips stretched into a magazine-perfect smile.

"Oh, sweetheart," she sighs. "You're becoming as predictable as my followers whenever I post a swimsuit pic."

5.

"Eoin, Grey, come in," Silas taps at his earpiece. In the cool night air of the rooftop, his signal should be going out loud and clear. But only the hiss of static answers him. Without even meaning to, he growls. It escapes his throat as full-bodied and monstrous, sending a river of tingles through his body. He leans against the nearby stone gargoyle.

"Don't be turning hairy now," Silas warns himself.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I'd love to see it."

Silas whips around and aims the tranq rifle at the male Echelon 7 operative crouching nearby in the shadows.

"Ah, Mateo," Silas says, as if he were greeting an old gambling buddy.

The operative rises, cocks his head. "Have we met?"

"Nope. But Grey told me all about you. Said you're like a discount Hemsworth brother. Now, it took me a couple of tries at the ol' computer to find out what that meant, but I gotta say, the kid was spot on."

Mateo lunges to attack. Silas fires. His aim is true, but the needled dart is no match for the thick padding on the operative's suit. Mateo unsheathes two black combat knives from his belt and strikes at Silas with hard, swinging slashes. Silas ducks and swerves, using the tranq rifle several times to block his attacker.

"Discount? Hemsworth? Brother?" Mateo says furiously between blows.

"Don't take it so harsh. Not your fault your sister got the good genes."

Mateo thrusts both knives forward. Silas catches him by the wrists, dropping the tranq rifle in the process. Mateo angles them around until Silas' heels scrape against the rooftop ledge. It's a long way down.

"I only came here to knock you out, bro," Mateo says as he struggles to gain control. "But you just had to make it personal."

"Cap, Eoin, Grey. Anyone. Now'd be a nice time to pop back in!" Silas grits through his teeth.

"Don't think so, bro. We set up radio jammers everywhere. If you and your boys came this unprepared, then you really do deserve this."

Mateo twists his wrists away from Silas' grip and puts his full weight into knocking the cowboy backwards. Silas slips, eyes going wide with panic, as he falls off the roof.

"Nice not knowing you!" Mateo shouts as he watches Silas tumble to the cold, hard pavement below.