"Well, after I was shot I didn't know anything until I woke up here." Richie shrugged. "Sorry."
"We've got to get Scott away from Fox." Paul went to the door and began to examine the lock.
"Who is that guy?" Richie asked. "When he came to the dojo he said he was looking for both you and Scott, but he wouldn't tell me why. What did you guys do to get the government after you?"
Paul turned towards the others. "We didn't do anything. Fox wants us because of who we are."
"What do you mean, 'who you are'?" Duncan asked.
"Fox fears us and wants to capture us because..." Paul hesitated for a moment, then looked directly into Duncan's eyes, "...because he thinks we're freaks and a danger to the human race." Paul removed the sphere and activated it creating a vortex around the three of them. It allowed Duncan and Richie to see images of what Paul described. "I first came to this planet about twenty-four years ago. I met a woman named Jenny Hayden and gave her a son, but I had to leave. Then, a little less than ten years ago I came back when my son called me. We've been traveling together ever since, trying to find Jenny and stay away from Fox."
"So you're...you're an alien? Like from another planet?" Richie asked.
Paul nodded.
"But you look like us. Do all aliens look like humans?" Richie questioned.
"In my natural form I look a lot like this blue light. I found Paul Forrester's dead body, and cloned this one from it."
"So," Duncan said, "that's why you don't remember Tessa or me. You weren't in Paris."
Paul raised his eyebrows a couple of times quickly and smiled. "I told you I'd changed."
"Is Scott an alien too?" Richie motioned toward the vortex. "He made a blue light like this in the car."
"My son is human, his mother is from Wisconsin. But he is also like me." Paul closed his fingers over the sphere, shutting down the vortex. "Because of who we are, Fox wants to hunt us down, put us in a cage and study us."
"Oh, man," Richie said, "this is too weird."
Duncan smiled at Paul. "No weirder than people who live forever, huh?"
"No," Paul agreed with a quick smile. He then turned back to the door. "We have to get out of here, now."
"How do you plan to do that?" Richie asked.
Paul held the sphere up between his thumb and index finger. "I'm an alien, I have these powers."
"I wondered what that thing was Scott used to lead us here." Richie pointed to the sphere in Paul's hand. "It's an alien gizmo, like that?"
"Yes," Paul laughed, "it's an alien 'gizmo' like this."
"Finally," Fox exclaimed as he pulled into the brightly lit parking lot of the police station. He reached over the seat and unlocked one set of the handcuffs.
"So what now?" Scott said angrily as he rubbed his sore wrists the best he could.
"You're going to come with me and stay quiet." In a few minutes Fox had Scott out of the car and handcuffed to him. Inside the police station, Fox stood at the counter for several minutes and no one noticed them. "Excuse me," Fox said in a raised voice, "I need some help here."
The dispatcher looked up from her console and motioned for Fox to wait. She continued to speak into her mike for several more minutes, then walked to the counter. "I'm sorry, sir, but we're short-handed tonight and really busy. What can I help you with?"
Fox already had his badge in his hand and held it up for the woman to see. "I'm George Fox with the Federal Security Agency. I need some help in securing a prisoner."
The woman looked Scott over as she asked, "Do you want to put him in a cell?"
"No, not him," Fox said quickly. "There is another I must apprehend and I need some backup."
"What is he wanted for?"
"I can't tell you that, it's class..."
Just then she got another call on the radio and had to leave to handle it.
Fox was stunned when the woman left him in mid-sentence.
When she returned, Fox had trouble controlling his temper. "It doesn't matter what the charge is, that's classified. I just need to get the fugitive into custody as soon as possible."
"Look, mister, if you can't give me more reason than that, I can't help you. Like I said, we're really busy tonight."
"This is more important than your petty..."
The dispatcher held up her hand to indicate Fox should wait as she answered the phone and returned to the radio to take several more calls.
Fox tried to control his temper as he thought, here I am, trying to save this planet from the greatest threat ever to face the human race, and this woman won't even listen to me! He watched as a couple of uniformed officers walked through the back of the office taking a prisoner with them. He tried to get their attention, but either they ignored him or didn't see him. Another man, possibly a plain clothes detective, was talking on the phone in a side office and had his back to the counter. Fox fidgeted as he waited impatiently for the dispatcher to return.
In spite of his situation, Scott was amused to see the distress on his tormentor's face. Scott looked down at the shackle that bound him to Fox and began to gently touch the locking mechanism with his free hand. He hadn't really mastered the ability to open locks without the sphere, but this was a good time to try again.
The dispatcher came back to the counter. "Listen, Mr. Fox, unless you can tell me that a crime has been committed in our jurisdiction, or you have a warrant, you'll just have to wait until morning and talk to the captain."
"A crime!" Fox exclaimed. "Yes, I saw a murder."
Suspicious of the man's sudden revelation, the woman asked, "Why didn't you say that before?"
"I...I..." Fox didn't quite know how to answer.
Paul placed his hand on the door knob, and in seconds the lock clicked open.
"Oh, boy," Richie said. Remembering his mis-spent youth when his only aspiration was to become a better thief, he continued, "There was a time when the ability to do that would have come in handy."
Duncan gave Richie a quick look for even thinking about such things. He then motioned for Paul to step aside and silently opened the door a crack. The single guard was quickly knocked unconscious.
"You didn't harm him, did you?" Paul asked.
Slightly surprised at the question, Duncan said, "No. He'll have a headache, but he's not hurt."
The three men headed toward the staircase and went down. On the second floor landing, Duncan took out another guard. At Paul's look of dismay, he whispered, "He'll be all right."
On the ground floor, there were two more men seated near the front door. Their attention was focused on a card game and they didn't see the former captives.
Duncan saw Wolf standing in the next room brandishing a sword. Tilting his head towards the man, he whispered to Richie, "That's yours, isn't it?"
Richie nodded yes and entered the side room. Paul and Duncan followed, and Duncan closed the door behind them.
Before Wolf even knew there were others in the room, Richie had his arm around Wolf's neck, choking him. The rapier clattered to the floor.
"So, Mr. Wolf," Duncan said coldly as he picked up the sword, "now the tables have turned." He placed the tip of the blade against Wolf's chest, above his heart. "What do you think we should do with you?"
Unable to speak through the hold around his neck, the terror on the man's face was apparent. He knew he was about to die.
Paul looked anxiously at the scene. These two men certainly knew a lot about how to use physical violence. It wasn't something he liked being a part of. "Richie, Duncan, don't."
"Why not?" Richie asked. "He was going to kill us, all of us, just because we're different. You know what that's like."
"That doesn't mean you should hurt him," Paul stated calmly as he placed a hand on Carlin Wolf's shoulder.
Duncan lowered the blade. "You're right, Paul. Revenge and more violence isn't the answer." He gestured to Richie to release Wolf.
"But, Mac," Richie pleaded, "they'll just come after us again."
Wolf was no longer frightened even though the choke hold was still in place. In fact, he was surprised to suddenly feel very relaxed.
"I know, Rich, and if that happens we'll deal with it then. But now," Duncan glanced at Paul, "is not the time to push it."
When Richie released Wolf he expected the man to scream for help, but he just stood silently. Richie looked at Paul. "You're doing something to him, aren't you?"
"I'm just calming his fears. I'm not really 'doing' anything to him."
"Geez," Richie exclaimed, "and I thought Immortals were weird."
Paul dropped his hand from Carlin's shoulder and the man remained quiet.
"Well, the least you can let me do is take the guy's clothes," Richie said. "Both my shirt and pants are bloody."
Duncan laughed. "I don't imagine that will hurt anything. Mr. Wolf, would you be so kind as to give Richie your shirt and pants?"
"What?" Wolf asked. He was still feeling dazed.
When he saw Wolf's uncertain expression, Duncan continued, "We're not going to hurt you, Richie just needs to borrow your suit."
"Well..." Wolf glanced uncertainly between Richie and Duncan. "I guess so."
A few minutes later, Richie had on Wolf's suit. His rapier fit neatly inside the coat even though it didn't have a magic pocket. "Okay, now we have two guards at the front door and who knows how many more outside. How do we get past them?" With a glance at Wolf who was sitting quietly over in a corner, Richie asked, "I don't suppose you could do your trick on the others, Paul?"
"No, that won't work." Paul took out the sphere. "But this will." In an instant the room was filled with a blue glow that surrounded the three men.
"What's that?" Richie reached out to try to touch the aura.
"In simple terms, it's an energy shield and it will keep us safe."
"Great! This is like 'shields up, Mr. Worf'," Richie laughed. "A real alien force field, right?"
"Something like that," Paul smiled. "I'm not bullet proof like the two of you."
"We're not either," Duncan said, "and getting shot while escaping would slow us down."
"It also hurts," Richie rubbed his chest.
The sight of the three men surrounded by the blue glow startled the two guards at the door. The slimmer man didn't move from the table as he stared with his mouth hanging open. The large ruddy-faced man pulled his gun and began to fire. "I already shot you once tonight. This will put you down again."
Richie flinched when the bullets came rushing towards them, but relaxed when he realized they were falling harmlessly to the floor. They didn't even ricochet off the shield. "Hey, Paul, this is cool."
The ruddy-faced man continued to fire as the captives walked out, deliberately ignoring him. Outside the house there was one car and the van.
"Let's take the car," Richie suggested. "It'll move faster."
"Right," Duncan agreed, "but we need to disable the van to keep them from having a way to follow."
"I'll take care of that," Paul said.
The ruddy-faced man had emptied his weapon and reloaded, and another two guards had come from somewhere inside the house. All fired on the escaping group, but all the energy from their bullets was absorbed by the shield.
When the three got to the car, they found its doors unlocked. As he got into the back seat, Duncan said, "Richie, you drive."
Figuring he would need to hot-wire the car, Richie got in and ducked under the dash. He hadn't even started when a loud popping made him raise his head. Three more times he heard the noise and then Paul was in the seat beside him.
Paul reached out, touched the ignition switch and the car roared to life.
Richie stared at the man sitting beside him.
When a hail of bullets started to pelt the back of the car, Duncan shouted, "What are you waiting for? Drive!"
Placing the car in gear, Richie floored it. In seconds they were down the lane and onto the road. After they were clear of the danger, Richie asked, "What did you do back there? What was that noise?"
Paul shrugged. "I blew out the tires on the van. They won't be following us."
"I guess not," Richie agreed.
As Paul held the sphere in his hand, it glowed softly.
"You're doing the same thing Scott did, aren't you?" Richie asked.
"Yes," Paul said, "we can find each other with the sphere."
Richie laughed. "Sort of like feeling an Immortal, only at a much longer range."
Paul raised an eyebrow, "Feeling an Immortal?"
"It's a little hard to explain." Duncan paused, trying to decide how to continue. "Whenever we get close to another Immortal we feel a sensation that is something like a headache, but not really. It can feel like a cold chill running down your back, but that's not really right either." He shrugged. "There just isn't anything like it in the mortal world."
"To me," Richie added, "it's like a mild electric shock running through my body."
"I understand," Paul nodded. "It's the energy force Scott and I feel when we touch you."
"You feel it too?" Duncan asked. "But you're not..."
Paul smiled. "No, we're not Immortals, but we do have senses the average human doesn't."
"I'll say," Richie agreed. Several minutes passed before he asked, "Where should I be heading?"
"We're going the right direction." Paul paused for a moment. "Knowing Fox, I assume he'll try to get the local police to help him. It wouldn't surprise me if that's where we end up."
"In that case, we'll need a plan," Richie said.
Paul grinned. "Let me tell you about the time I had a cold and was in the hospital."
"I asked you a question, Mister." the dispatcher demanded. "Why didn't you say there had been a murder when you first came in here?"
"I tried," Fox lied. "But you wouldn't stay here long enough to listen." He really didn't want to get involved in a local police case, but if it got him some backup to go find the alien and the men holding It, he would play along.
Rolling her eyes at the obvious falsehood, the dispatcher picked up the phone and dialed the extension of the detective's office. "Art, you better come out here. We have a reported homicide."
In a few minutes, a tall slender man approached the counter. "Hello, I'm Detective Parkins, and you are?"
Showing his badge again, "I'm George Fox with the Federal Security Agency."
"You're here to report a homicide?"
"Yes."
"Where did this happen?"
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