PAUL SMECKER'S POV:

I walked into the noisy room and unbuttoned my overcoat, putting my hands on my sides.

"First of all," I announced, drawing the attention of every cop in the room. "I'd like to thank whichever one of you donut-munching, barrel-assed, pod-pulling sissies leaked this to the press." I slowly made my way down the aisle of desks, looking briefly at each one of them.

"That's just what we need now. Some sensational story in the newspaper making these people out to be superheroes triumphing over evil. Let me squash the rumors now. These three are not heroes." I started my walk back up to the front of the room.

"They're just three ordinary people who were put in an extraordinary situation, and they just happened to come out on top. Yes, nothing in our far-reaching computer systems has turned up diddly on these three, all we know is what we've found out from the neighbors. And the general consensus is-" I smiled with a chuckle and spread my arms out to imitate wings. "They're angels."

I started turning back toward the front. "But angels don't kill." I stopped turning when I was facing Greenly and walked over to sit on his desk.

"And we've got two bodies in the morgue that look like they've been," I started to mock his Boston accent. "Serial crushed by some huge friggin' guy." A few of the officers laughed at my teasing.

"Are we considering these guys armed and dangerous?" one of the officers from the back of the room asked.

I crossed my arms. "Well, not armed. If they had guns, they would've used them. But dangerous? Very."

"What makes you think they're dangerous?" another officer asked from against the left wall. "I mean, maybe they were all just protecting each other."

A few people made noises of agreement, some noises of disbelief.

I held up my hands and stood from my perch on Greenly's desk. "Hey, look! I'm not saying one way or the other, just be careful and go by the protocol on this. Its grunt police work that's gonna bring this one in."

I turned away, but just as I started walking, Greenly spoke up, making me turn back to him. "These guys are miles away by now. But if you wanna beat your head against the wall, then here's what your lookin' for. They're scared, like three little bunny rabbits. Anything in a uniform or flashin' blue lights is gonna spook 'em."

I noticed someone walk into the room out of the corner of my eye as Greenly was ranting. I looked up and saw not just somebody. But three somebodies. Two men and a woman. They all looked pretty beat up. The one with black hair was helping the girl pull the blonde one who was limping.

"So the only thing we can do is put a potato on a string and drag it through South Boston, thanks for comin' out!"

"Ya'd probably have better luck with a beer," the black-haired one chuckled.

The girl nodded and the blond guy said, "Aye, ya would."

All eyes turned up to them. Including Greenly's. "Aw fuck," Greenly mumbled, putting his head in his hands.

"Hey, Greenly," I said, smirking. "Onion bagel. Cream cheese."

He shook his head and looked down.

I turned back to the three new additions to the audience in the station. I looked them over and thought that they could only have a very interesting story to go with that attire and condition. I grinned and motioned for them to follow me.