Chapter Seven: The Theft

Gabriel closed the shop quickly, glaring at the one customer and forcing her out as he telekinetically locked the door behind them and headed towards his Buick soundlessly. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that told him he should have listened to his instincts the night before and gone to Claire's, should have dropped everything and run to Noah's side. But he hadn't, trusting instead that Claire could manage and telling himself not to over-react. It wasn't as if government agencies could just kidnap children from their beds at night. No, apparently they saved such activities for broad freaking day-light.

Cursing, Gabriel entered the freeway, speeding around the flashy cars and big-rigs as he approached the exit. Noah's soccer field was fifteen minutes from the shop and ten from Claire's work. With any luck she'd be there before him and he'd get to see them both safe and sound, get to curse himself for over-reacting and pull Noah into a tight hug.

A jaguar on his left laid on the horn as he tried to merge right into them. Swearing, he swerved back into his own lane. "Pay attention, Gabriel," he muttered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tight in both hands and checking his blind-spot before attempting to merge again. He made it off the freeway without further incident and sped all the way to Noah's practice. By the time he got there his whole body was tense, shoulders aching and fists clenched. He parked on the street, could see the kids practicing on the other side of the lawn.

A beeping horn behind him had him checking his rear-view mirror. It was Claire, the expensive car she drove pulling to a screeching stop behind him as he stepped from his own heap of metal.

"Claire," he said, nodding as she stepped out of the car. She was dressed for work, her long blonde hair pulled back and a strand of pearls at her neck. Her pencil skirt ended just at her knees and he wondered how she managed to walk in those high-heels all day.

"Gabriel," she said, rushing towards him, "Where is he?"

"I just got here," he breathed, taking her by the arm and leading her towards the other side of the field. They walked together, eye's scanning the green as they went, looking for the light brown hair and slight frame.

"I don't see him," Claire said, voice panicked. Her stiletto's were sinking into the grass with every step. Gabriel's mouth went dry. Where was he?

And then he saw her, auburn hair held back with combs and one lithe, pale arm outstretched towards his son as she crouched low to the ground.

Gabriel screamed.

"Noah!"

The boy looked up, startled as his quick eyes darted around until they fell on his father. And he smiled, a sweet and brilliant smile that lit up his whole face and made Gabriel's heart ache.

And then Selina's pale hand wrapped around Noah's upper arm, and the short man Gabriel hadn't noticed before took a step forward and put his own hands on the boy's shoulders.

Noah was still smiling when he flickered out of the field, flashing like a bad satellite signal before disappearing entirely with the man behind him.

Gabriel's heart stopped and his nails bit into Claire's suit-jacket, grasping hard enough to bruise. Had she seen them? Had she watched it happen? Or had she only heard him scream and then watched as the willowy woman in the tight jeans and navy blouse approached them?

He forced himself to let go of his ex-wife, stuffed his hands in his pocket to keep the electricity dancing across his palms out of sight, and stalked towards Selina. It wouldn't do to kill the bitch here, not when there were twenty some odd children running around on the other side of the field and just as many parents and nanny's sitting drowsily. He would have to take her somewhere else to get the information he needed and finish the deed.

It was so easy slipping back into the role, he thought, as Claire struggled to keep up with him, asking him who that was and where Noah was. Then again, one didn't really lose the instincts of a serial killer; they just buried them deep and tried to forget where they were hidden.

Selina stopped five feet from them and held out a hand in front of her, motioning for them to do the same. Gabriel didn't stop, didn't see a reason too. Selina smiled. With a twist of her hand he felt himself stopping, wrenching in his spot and stumbling slightly before snapping upright with his arms stiff at his sides. He tried to move, tried to shoot electricity from his finger-tips… but none would come. Where the power had been, there was now only a profound emptiness.

The blood drained from his face. This was not good.

Claire paused, eyes widening and staring back and forth from Selina and Gabriel.

"What the hell did you—" The redhead cut her off with a smile, and soon Claire stood stiff as a board as well, mouth clamped shut and eyes wide and panicked.

"That's much better," Selina murmured, taking a couple steps forward to stand right in front of Gabriel. She held one hand out tentatively, stroking his stubble roughened cheek and jumping a bit as electricity sparked from her hand to his face and he flinched. "Oh," she said, "that one's fun."

Gabriel glared at her. How had he let this happen? Why hadn't he followed his instincts last night and made sure Noah was safe? Why hadn't he turned this crazy bitch down at the coffee shop? Christ, it was all his fault. He'd gotten them into this. Him, Claire… and Noah.

"What are you?" Gabriel growled, glaring as Selina continued to spark from her fingertips. She looked up, slightly distracted, before focusing with a smile.

"I think that's been made fairly obvious," she said softly, almost kindly. "I'm like you, a Special. I…" she frowned slightly, looking for a word, "Borrow, abilities. When I get close enough to one of us, I can feel them… and I just… borrow what they do for a while."

"You steal abilities?"

Selina scowled. "No," she hissed, "I borrow them. Borrowing means you give them back… not that I would expect someone with your talents to understand that." She paused, sighing and taking a step back, moving to stand in front of Claire and looking her up and down.

"You're shorter than I thought you'd be," she said simply. Claire glared, green eyes wide and angry as Gabriel watched, and he was reminded of just how deep her fury could go. He would have pitied Selina if she hadn't just kidnapped his son.

"Anyway," the bitch continued, smiling falsely, "I'm here to have a bit of a chat with the two of you," she paused, but whether it was for effect or because she was thinking of how to phrase her next few words, they didn't know.

"As you've noticed, Gabriel," Selina said, "We've got Noah." Beside him, Claire whimpered. "I have to admit that getting the clearance to take him wasn't the easiest thing we've ever done. It called for a great deal of inter-departmental cooperation," she scowled at Claire, "not that you would know anything about that, Ms. Bennet. But the higher-ups at the agency, as well as the Secretary of Defense and his department, all agreed that this really was the best course of action… he called after your meeting didn't go well."

"Cut to the chase," Gabriel spat out.

Selina raised a brow. "Alright then," she said congenially. "Your son is safe. He's going to be staying in an undisclosed institute facility until such time as we determine. Until then, you are going to go back to work."

"Fuck you, if you think I won't tear apart every fucking institute building until I find him and gut you, you mother—" Selina cut him off with a smile, forcing his jaw shut like she had Claire's.

"It's rude to interrupt others when they're speaking," she murmured with a soft smile. "As I was saying. You're going to go back to work at the agency, so as to ensure… the health of your son." A cold chill ran down Gabriel's spine, and Selina wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, she looked quite disgruntled. "The Agency has chosen to surround Noah with some of the most powerful hired guns it could find. All specials, all perfectly willing to kill the boy should an attack seem imminent."

Gabriel looked to his left. There were tears running down Claire's face.

"Still with me, Gabriel?" Selina asked, "Good. Now, I want to assure you that I'll be taking every possible measure to ensure Noah's safety. He is… valuable, to the Institute," her gaze hardened as it fell on Claire, "which you both know perfectly well." The woman sighed regretfully. "If only you'd agreed to our initial offers. The Institute would never have been forced to go this far. But as lamentable as you're lack of action has been in the past, you both have the opportunity to make up for it now."

From the inside of her jacket, Selina pulled a manila envelope, tossing it at Gabriel's feet. "In that packet, are a few instructions. The two of you have a scheduled meeting with the Secretary of Defense this evening at eight. I believe you've been invited to dinner at his home. Should anything… unfortunate happen to him—or anyone else you've not been told to eliminate—I've been advised to tell you that Noah will pay the price."

This couldn't be happening. Gabriel could barely see through his tear blurred eyes, couldn't hear anything but the woman's voice. They had his son, his precious child… and they were willing to kill him. And for what? For a job? Another hired gun to kill people in an official capacity? Why couldn't they have just left him the hell alone?

"I'm going now," Selina's voice echoed in his mind, "Your powers will be returned when I leave. Remember not to do anything rash… for Noah's sake," and then the woman was turning and walking away, her hips swaying and arms swinging softly at her sides.

Gabriel felt his abilities and his freedom of movement return with a rush. Beside him, Claire sank to the ground.

"Claire," he whispered, throat dry, going to his knees beside her and grabbing her by the shoulders so that she would face him. She was crying freely, looking stunned and hopeless.

"I didn't think they would do it… I didn't think they would do it," she said, and then she buried her face in her hands. "Oh, God."

The parents on the other side of the field were starting to stare, one of them making their way slowly towards the couple kneeling on the ground.

"We have to go," Gabriel said roughly, grabbing the envelope in one hand and pulling Claire up with the other. "You have the keys to the Benz?"

She shook her head. "They're still in the car."

Gabriel led the way to the side of the green, over to her car. He opened the passenger-side door, pushed her in and took his own place in the driver's seat.

He was numb. Numb, numb, numb. He couldn't feel, couldn't tell what he was feeling. Sorrow, rage, fear… Add it all together and it came out to nothing.

He split open the envelope.

The invitation was heavy in his hand and "cordially invited" both he and Claire to dinner with Secretary of Defense Wilson Thomas and his wife at their home that night. Gabriel threw the vellum into the back of the car. It landed in Noah's booster seat.

Cursing, crying, Gabriel started the car and drove away from the soccer field.

A/N: I'm back! Love, Mel.