Max reached into her front pocket, took out her phone, and snapped a quick selfie with Chloe. Just to have somewhere warm, safe and quiet to come back to if she needed a jump any time soon. The shakes had mostly stopped by now. She still had a little phantom pain in her leg, but it was fading. She felt Chloe rising and falling behind her with each breath. A rhythm she focused on to still her own breathing.

"What can I do?" asked Chloe quietly.

"You're doing it." Max snuggled.

Chloe kissed her neck, combed Max's hair backward, tucking it behind her ear with her fingers.

A quiet moment. This was exactly what she hoped it would be. Again.

After a few minutes, Chloe asked "How did you get hit Max? Why didn't your emergency rewind thing kick in?" Her voice was concerned, but still soft and in the moment.

Max replied with well-practiced lines, "I think if it had been aimed at my head or heart, or a major artery, it probably would have. This was excruciatingly, unbelievably painful. Would have been permanently crippling to anyone normal, but wasn't immediately fatal. We know I can get hurt. Remember Seattle? Needles?"

"Yeah…"

"I'm sure the wound would have healed within a couple of days if I'd eaten enough mass, enough of the right minerals and nutrients. Jumping back was a faster, better option than healing forward, given the choice. Not getting shot is my preferred version from now on."

"It's too bad you can't hack that death-rewind mechanism to keep you from getting hurt at all. I'm really glad I don't have any of those 'getting shot' memories rolling around in my head to deal with."

"Maybe someday. I don't even know how it works the way it does right now. Might suck if it was too sensitive though. Stop time every time I get a scratch… But yeah, that shooty douche - when he killed you in the last timeline, he was a very precise. I don't think you even knew. And I don't think he suddenly missed with me. They must still be trying to figure out a way to take me alive."

"What did Sophie say his name was? Dmitri?"

"Yep. I've put him in my 'do not like' column. First you, then me. I'll be honest, I'm not sure what his survival odds are gonna be this pass."

Max heard footsteps of a crowd moving through the main hallway, duffels bumping and scraping along walls. So soon? The sounds moved through the front door to the suite. "Mmmmph" said Max, stretching a little.

"You could always rewind if you want more time Max. I don't mind. Happy to stay like this just about forever." Chloe held her a little tighter.

Max smiled. "That's what you said the last seven times. But I really should get up now or I'll fall asleep."

"You could, you know. How long have you been up? For reals?"

"Well, we had about four hours of sleep after getting out of the hot tub. Then I was drugged and unconscious for a couple of hours - does that count?"

"No. Not even slightly."

"Hmmm. Then let's see…from the time I woke up that morning until now… fourteen hours in the other timeline, plus let's see, six hours, then another six, then a rewind and jump to here, plus a fast forward of twelve hours for my body to burn out the drugs… That's not bad. I've only been up for…a little over twenty-six hours? Or thirty-eight, depending on what time stream you're counting."

"On four hours of sleep, after a full day of desert snap practice, getting drugged, shot, blowing up buildings? Never-mind the emotional trauma you've been through? Nope. That's fucking crazy Max. You're putting yourself and everyone else at risk. You're going to get a full eight hours of sleep. Maybe nine. Then you'll jump right back here to that picture when you wake up."

"But everybody is already…"

"I'll be right back. I'm gonna step out and explain to everyone what's happening this go-round. They can take guard shifts while you sleep. Or leave. Whatever. Fuck, I don't care. It doesn't really matter. As long as there's no frontal assault while you sleep, it should be fine. You'll reset everything anyway and they'll never even know. Well, Sophie will. And you'll tell me. But…you know what I mean."

"Chloe - we don't even know if it really works that way. When I jump back, I jump back into my body as it was. And this body in this timeline has been awake for nineteen hours maybe?"

"Uh huh. Max - are you tired at all right now?"

"Yeah - I'm exhausted, but…"

"That's what I thought. We're done. Clothes off. Into bed. I'll be right back."

Chloe got up, stepped out of the room. Max heard voices, then rising voices as she kicked off her shoes and clothing. The tones eventually settled. Chloe came back in, quietly closed and locked the door.

"Are they upset with me?" asked Max.

"It doesn't matter. You need sleep. They're moving more drones into place, setting up a hard scan perimeter, and everyone from here to LA is hunkering down for guard duty for a loop. We're good." Chloe undressed, killed the lights, crawled into bed and curled up behind her."

Maybe I do need this. Just a nap if nothing else. The cool pillow felt like happiness and love under her head. She reached back, pulled Chloe's arm over the top so their hands were clasped together over Max's heart. "Thanks."

"I'm a good sidekick."

"You're the best sidekick."

"I'll be right here Max."

"G'night Chloe."

Max woke up. It was light outside. A quick glance at her phone told her it was around noon. Wow. I must have been tired. She looked around, but no Chloe. But something weird, scratchy, catching on her hair? What the? She reached up to her forehead and pulled off a sticky note. Flipped it around. Chloe's writing. Of course.

"Dorkface, Don't jump back yet. We have a plan. Come get breakfast when you're ready. -C"

Max emerged from the room a half hour later, freshly showered and dressed. She didn't know why exactly. The benefits of all that fuss would be gone the moment she jumped back. But some rituals were as much mental. Symbolic. Fresh start. Speaking of…

Chloe was on the sofa facing the other way. Without turning around, she pointed to the sideboard in the dining area behind her. "Bacon. Coffee."

"Nom." Max grabbed a plate at one end of the breakfast spread, took a few slices of bacon, some fresh cut fruit, a Belgian waffle, and loaded up the waffle with whipped cream and strawberries. Grabbed a cup of coffee as well. She walked out to the living room, set everything down on the large stone coffee table between the sofas, and dropped in next to Chloe. Hector and Sophie were both on the other side of Chloe, and Margaret and John were sitting across in the other sofa.

Chloe stole a piece of bacon with a side-smile, hand on Max's shoulder. "Morning sunshine."

Max took Chloe's hand, gave it a squeeze as she looked around at everyone. "Morning. Hi Sophie. Hey Hector. Sorry to make you guys wait. Hey John. Margaret. Everybody fed and stuff?" Max cut into her waffle.

"Hi Max. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but that's not really right either is it?" said John.

Max laughed. "Nope. But it's good to see you again John. Fewer explosions this time I hope."

"At least one fewer. An…affiliate organization picked up two Russian gentlemen headed onto your parents' property this morning. Small thermite charge, mobile phone trigger. Looks like they were going for a gas line. Everything's fine. Your mom and dad never knew anyone was there."

"You rule. Please thank everyone involved for me John. Sam too. For reals. I really appreciate it."

"Of course. Happy to help. Easy win all around."

"Three down, three to go. No sign of Alexander or anyone while I slept?"

Chloe answered. "Crickets."

"What are the odds that changes the second I walk up onto that roof?" stuffing waffle into her face.

"We'll get to that. But we haven't seen anything yet. If they're out there, they're hidden well." said John.

"Someone left a note about a plan?" She cast a glare at Chloe, who looked away innocently, still munching on stolen bacon.

Sophie picked up the thread. "While you slept, we made use of the time, your memories and our experts to construct a working space of the roof outward. John, Margaret and a few others participated inside. We don't know exactly where anyone is, but we've narrowed possible locations for Dmitri - the sniper - to one of these six buildings." She pointed out through the window. "You didn't see a muzzle flash or anything, so we went by angle of injury and binaural timing differences in the sound of the shot."

John added "Our assumption is that Alexander is watching from another location. Somewhere that would allow him to look out and see the rooftop, pop in and grab you once you were down. Obviously he didn't get there before you backed out last time. There are only about five buildings he could be in with a great view of the rooftop, maybe six others with binoculars."

"So our guys could be in any two of seventeen buildings? In any number of rooms?"

"Any rooms above the roofline of this hotel, so that does narrow it some. Assuming they haven't moved in the past few hours."

"And our friendly Russian telepath - Julia, right? Mystery still?"

Chloe answered, "Yeah, but Margaret and Sophie think they might be able to work together with Hector to triangulate her position. Pulse out an active mental ping at her, look for a hole where nothing appears to be. Or…something?"

"That's helpful. So you two are working together okay?" Max asked Sophie and Margaret.

Max hoped this wasn't a loaded question. She understood why Sophie was reluctant to trust John and Margaret; especially since she wasn't allowed to scan them. They represented the kind of quasi-governmental organization that had forcibly recruited talents internationally across modern history.

Max was less clear on why John drew his weapon in the prior timeline when Margaret told him what they were. Max assumed at the time that it was because he was looking out for her and Chloe, thinking maybe they were plants by the Russians, or that Max didn't know they were talents. He never aimed his weapon at Hector or Sophie directly, and he stood down once he understood they were with Max, and confirmed that she knew what they were. The rest of that timeline went smoothly until she was shot on the roof later that morning. So there was that. But now that she was better rested, it was a nagging question. Why did he react that way?

Sophie knew that Max had a sense for the history between talents and them. John and Margaret didn't yet. Chloe and Max had their suspicions about the end-goals of those above his organization; the kind of thing they might eventually want from Max. But she hoped John wasn't involved in any of the sorts of abuses Sophie described. Seemed unlikely since there were only a handful of talents operating in any given country, but still. She wanted to believe there was a way to work alongside John and his group from time to time where it benefitted them both. She also liked him, and didn't want to be disappointed. Again.

Margaret responded, breaking Max's accelerated thoughts. "We're fine dear. We're both telepaths, so any misunderstandings tend to work themselves out quickly. Our gifts operate very differently. It's been interesting to see the breadth of her skills. She and Hector were unknowns, so we were naturally a little concerned. But any misunderstandings we may have had were set aside as soon as she showed us your memories of the events of prior timelines. We all want the same thing. Privacy is ensured all around, and all of our thoughts are being masked from Julia on their side."

"Cool." Max figured it was best to drop it and move on for now. "So we don't know where anyone is yet. Guess my memories weren't all that helpful after all? Sorry."

"Doesn't mean we don't have a plan, Max." said John.

Chloe stole a chunk of pineapple from Max's plate, popped it into her mouth. "I'm on record as really super-hating parts of this plan by the way. Just so you know."

"Tell me."

"Not it." said Chloe quickly, leaning back.

John took this one. "This can go one of two ways, depending. Obviously you have to be confident about it too. If everything works perfectly, you may not need to jump back at all. But if something does go south, the fallback is to meet us at 4am, hopefully with knowledge of where Dmitri and Alexander are. And maybe Julia if we can find her."

"That doesn't sound so bad? What's the part that Chloe hates?"

Max stepped out onto the roof. She'd changed back into her morning PJs. Bait. That's just awesome. Thanks, everyone. This is such a bad idea. And it was going to fucking hurt if shit went bad, wasn't it? She was flinching at every sound, every footstep on the roof, the memory of her last bullet wound fresh in her mind. She knew she'd never hear it coming. Supersonic. But still. Five drones were up overhead, spread out a couple of miles from each other. They'd be able to triangulate the source of any gunfire. All she'd have to do is remember where it came from after the jump back. If there was a jump back. Getting hit guaranteed a reset. She was betting it wouldn't come to that. That she'd be fast enough.

Everyone else was downstairs, looking out through silvered windows on all sides - with naked eyes, binoculars, monocles, gunsights - to try to catch direct sight of a muzzle flash in one of the buildings within sight of the roof. .50 caliber rifles weren't invisible when fired, so there was a good chance someone would see it. Sophie was linking everyone, so if anyone did, Max would too. The buildings in the cone of probability were half a mile to a mile out. Based on bullet velocity for the .50, Max would maybe get a one to two second heads-up. Should be able to freeze and dodge. She was nearly instant when she did some quick practice freezes. Speed of light plus speed of thought… hopefully faster than the speed of a…well…speeding bullet? She should have time to react. As long as someone saw it. Six buildings, thirty people watching. It wasn't a bad bet. Right? Shit. Worst case, she'd take the hit. Jump would reset her body again. But that's gonna suck hard. Crap. Do not want.

Max's phone was in her back pocket. The picture she'd taken with Chloe earlier was on her lock screen, and she had a paper printout of it in her front pocket. Chloe was crouched near the top of the stairs, but below the roofline out of sight, with a copy on her phone as well. Just in case she needed to run out if something happened to Max or her copies. A few other people had printed copies in their pockets as fail safes.

"Just be casual Max. You're doing great. Maybe a little warm-up or something so it seems like you're not just standing there?" That was John's inner voice.

They'd originally planned for everyone to be mic'd up, with small inner-earpieces. That's when they learned that Sophie was deaf. Had been since birth. She could hear perfectly, but only through the ears of the people around her. Didn't occur to her or Hector to mention it earlier. Didn't usually matter. So on-to-one chats with her using tech was out. After a brief discussion, they ended up going with Sophie's conduit talent as their primary comm network on the ground. At least for this first part. John and a few members of his team were doubling up with normal comms to coordinate with the LA operations center and drones as needed. Mind to mind was a superior experience for what they were trying to do with Max though.

"Hi Max! If I think about it really hard, I make an echoes in here! Hello…hello…hello…Max…max…max…"

"Chloe. Shush. Leave Sophie's brain alone." This wasn't the time for that. But part of her appreciated Chloe's effort to take a little edge off the nervous moment.

One of John's men caught a flash from a building in the middle distance as Max walked out to the center of the roof. She was still connected to Chloe, but saw it through the link. Max immediately reached out with her mind to freeze time. But that's not what happened.

Not…exactly.

"No fucking way." Max could hear Chloe say with her inner voice. And again, a fraction of a second later with her actual voice from the stairwell. The sound of the gunshot finally reached their ears, echoing between minds.

Max looked up, then down. The world was still moving at normal speed, but a very large bullet was frozen in the air two dozen feet in front of her at about waist height. Actually, not frozen in the air. The air around it was frozen in time. As she moved to one side, she could clearly see that the bullet was at the center of a two-foot sphere of frozen space-time. Glistening shimmers of light wave interference from within, surface bending and refracting external light at the boundary layer, lensing the horizon beyond. She had done this. But how?

"I was totally just wondering if you could stop a bullet!" said Chloe inside. "Shit! Max! Look out!"

Max felt a puff of air, as a needle slid into the back of her neck.

She saw herself, small, from behind. Alexander's eyes? She felt static energies converge slowly around him as he withdrew the needle from her skin, felt her own skin with his hands as he wrapped arms around her torso, looked to a window in a building half a mile away, and began to fold space.

He conjoined two volumes of air around them, first in his mind, then mirrored in reality, one slightly out of phase with the other, so they didn't fight, so they would co-exist. He gradually cross-shifted the phase between them, aligning the distant volume to their own, taking the first to a different vibration, swapping the volume of air with the volume of their mass, as the wormhole began to collapse, leaving them somewhere else. Looking back at the rooftop through a window from a hallway in a building half a mile away.

She was seeing through Alexander. Sophie. She must have passively latched onto him as he appeared on the roof! That meant the others would see where he took her.

So that's how he feels space? That's how he does it? I felt all of that.

Wait. Why am l conscious at all? The world. Moving at greatly reduced speed. She was in the hotel hallway with him. Wormhole still collapsing. That whole thing must have been a fraction of a second. I must have slowed subconsciously. Time to get rid of this drug before it could take her down into blackness. She slammed the universe into a full stop, pushed her body clock racing away while her mind hovered. One alligator. Two alligator. Three alligator. She made echoing noises in her head. Chloe…chloe…chloe… Nope. No one else there.

About twelve hours forward on her body if she had to guess. Should be plenty to metabolize the drug. Worked last time. A minute or two to her conscious mind. Nothing to the world.

Max rejoined the flow of the universe, still in Alexander's arms. She wasn't connected to him or Sophie or anyone anymore. Distance maybe? Or shifting in time might have broken the link. Have to ask Sophie about that later. That might be an interesting defense against telepathic eavesdropping? Micro jumps or nonlinear pulsing to break the telepath's electrical wave sync? And what was up with the bullet thing? Later. Focus on now first.

Max wanted to stay in real time for this if she could. Too many civilians around below. Too much glass. She really didn't want to attract a crowd, or to have to jump back if she didn't have to. She could totally do this. She felt him still holding on to her.

Hi Alexander. Surprise, motherfucker.

Max came to life, violently dropping her center of gravity. She shifted forward and to the right in a controlled collapse, pulled him forward and over her shoulder. He hit the floor on his back as she rolled over him, elbows slamming down into his diaphragm and head, pushing off to other side, back onto her feet. Free. He rolled away from her, stood himself back up against the hallway wall, opposite the glass looking out over the city. He ran away, then back toward the glass and looked out. Pop. Vanished.

Doh. Nope. Max rewound. He was back against the hallway wall, unaware that he'd just jumped away. He ran away, back toward the glass. But she was already there in his way. He took a swing at her. Sucker. She redirected his arm out and upward in a circle. Accelerating slightly, she drove her left fist up into the now exposed nerve cluster in his right armpit, lifting him off the ground, taking out the arm.

She slid her foot in an arc behind him, followed with her body while spinning the other way in a practiced circular glide, grabbed his other arm at the wrist and shoulder, extended it out and behind with a twist while she propelled him forward to slam face first into the glass wall.

He looked outside through a bloody streak on the glass. Jumped again. Max rewound. Propelled him around in an arc, face first into the solid wall opposite the glass. He turned, tried to swing again with his right. His arm was hanging useless. Wobbled a bit at the shoulder. Max leaned in, her left leg between his, she slid, rotated down trapping his foot against the carpet, took out his left knee sideways with a twist of her thigh and hips. He went down with a cry. She dropped fast, with all of her weight, striking the side of his head with her open palm. Silence. But still breathing.

"Better than last time dude. You ended up like aerated tomato paste. Thank me later." He just took a Max to the knee! she thought to herself, hoping someone else heard that.

She pulled her pajama leg up to her knee, fished the police zip ties out of her sock, threaded them, and secured his wrists and ankles. She yanked a fuzzy pink hotel spa sleep visor out of her front pocket and slipped it over his eyes. Can't jump when you can't see. Patted him on the head.

Max took out her phone and composed the shot, tilting her head slightly to one side with a simple cute friendly smile. She snapped the selfie, Alexander tied up in the background over her shoulder. Texted it to Chloe.

He's not going anywhere. She got up, turned and walked back to the glass. Sophie - if you can hear me, I'm here. She looked back. He hadn't moved. Alexander's secured. Send the boys over?

Chloe ran to Max as soon as Alexander appeared. But they were gone before she'd covered more than a dozen feet. The crystalline sphere of suspended time popped as they vanished. The bullet contained within continued on its original trajectory, slamming low into the wall behind Chloe, chipping out a foot-wide flower pattern of shattered concrete from the front, punching a one-inch hole clean through to the other side. Chloe dove as the dust wave kicked back. She scrambled back to the stairwell, staying low. Nope nope nope.

She looked out to see five drones circling a building a little over half a mile away. One of them sputtered, lost balance like an off kilter top, and fell out of view beyond the edge of the wall, smoking. The sound of the shot followed.

Chloe's phone vibrated. Max. And Alexander. Yes! Go Max! She ran downstairs with the selfie on screen, but John and his team had already gone. They saw where Max had landed through Alexander's eyes, and hadn't waited.

"Looks like they've got Dmitri located as well." Sophie pointed out to the drones.

"Julia?" asked Chloe. Margaret, Sophie and Hector were all here, along with a dozen of Max & Chloe's security guys.

"After." said Hector, refreshing his coffee.

That dude is way too fucking chill, Chloe thought, with a little admiration.

Michaels ran out of the stairwell into the hall. Max was leaning against the glass, Alexander zip-tied against the far wall. They'd split up to cover more floors on the way up, uncertain exactly where she landed, so he alerted his guys to their location.

"He's alive this time. Just unconscious." said Max casually.

She appeared to be texting. She was looking at something and laughing to herself anyway. Chloe probably. Or cat pictures?

"Max, do you have any idea how long…"

"Yep. And if there's a medal ceremony or anything, just let me know the when and where?" She put her phone away, got up. She held his gaze for a beat with a straight face, but finally broke into a smile. "I'm fucking with you John. We've had this conversation. But last time he was mostly paste, so, better, yeah?"

"Of course." He still wasn't sure how to take her. He felt like he knew her really well, after all of the monitoring they'd been subjected to. But talking with her face to face was different. Like navigating a series of inside jokes that she seemed disappointed he wasn't getting. Drawback of hanging out with a time traveler, maybe. You wouldn't remember most of the time you'd spent with them. "Nice touch with the blindfold." he offered lamely.

"No reason he shouldn't look fashionable. Or not look. No? Oh c'mon. Cause it's a blindfold? Tough hallway." she shrugged, twirling to look out the window toward the drones circling in the distance. Pajamas, one leg bent, heel pivoting slowly back and forth above the toe of her shoe resting on the carpet. There were moments like this where it was impossible to see her as anything other than a normal teenage girl.

A few of his team made their way into the hall, picked up Alexander, carried him off toward the elevator. One of their sister organizations had a van waiting downstairs that would take him out to Nellis. From there, they'd presumably transport him to one many black sites overseas for interrogation and detention. Probably.

Max was leaning against the glass, light catching her eyes. She looked contemplative.

Michaels had to remind himself. A normal teenage girl who can manipulate time - the universe itself, in any number of ways. A normal teenage girl who froze an inbound armor piercing anti-materiel round in mid air with her fucking mind. A normal teenage girl who physically beat the shit out of a trained Russian operative who was easily twice her mass. With her bare hands.

He found himself less and less willing to bet against her as time went on.

Max was spacing for a moment. The city really was pretty in the winter sun from up here. She was looking forward to this day finally being over. Getting back to ice cream and Chloe and hot tub time. No distractions, house guests, or people trying to murder them in inventive ways. Seemed simpler such a short while ago. Ignorance, bliss, etc. She'd run this day too many times though. Her eyes were drawn back to the glinting drones circling off in the distance. Right. Dmitri. Little bastard. Still owe you for Chloe. And my leg. Four down. Two to go.

"Shall we?" Max asked.

Max jumped out of the black SUV as it pulled to the curb, Michaels was out behind her. Others followed. Theirs was the second of two vehicles, six people to a car. Drones overhead, the LA team confirmed Dmitri hadn't left. At least not above ground.

On the ride over, they'd fitted Max with a throat mic and earpiece. The mic felt a little uncomfortable, snug, but she thought it looked nice. Like a high tech choker necklace. This would look hot on Chloe, she thought. All she had to do was press a button on one side over the pickup to speak. The earpiece in her right ear shared everything on the ground here, from the LA team as well as the drone operators.

A few LVPD officers were already onsite near the entrance to the building. From what Max could understand, they'd initially responded to a shots fired call from tenants before the LA team called in to their station chief to take over.

John gave the cops his ID, as his crew emerged from the SUVs with their weapons and gear. She could hear a few words carry at this distance. "…national security…terror suspect…" Her earpiece cracked to life. John's voice. "Locals are sending additional personnel to assist. They'll maintain the perimeter, deal with roadblocks, help evacuate civilians. Bomb squad and SWAT on standby. We'll be clearing the building floor by floor, bottom up."

As much as she wanted to be up there on the hunt, Max had agreed to hang out downstairs. She'd listen in on their progress, and if they found Dmitri and captured him without incident, great. That was the hope. But if they ran into any trouble, Max would be there to rewind and alert them to any danger in advance. Another team of twelve from a sister organization was on the way to them to lend a hand, and eventually take care of Dmitri's transport once apprehended. She wouldn't be alone on the ground for long.

After a few minutes, John and his team went in the front entrance. Max heard them speak with the guard at the security kiosk on ground level, where they were given access cards and keys, a tenant map of each floor, and were shown to the stairwells. The elevators had already been locked down, leaving only two emergency stairwells open. The building was mostly offices in the lower two-thirds, with residences in the top group of floors. John's team split six and six, starting with the second floor. Two remained in each stairwell, while two teams of four worked inward to meet at the center of each level. They went office to office, evacuating workers, clearing spaces, closets, and other hiding spots, before locking off and sealing with tape, moving to the next floor up.

This is going to take a while. She leaned against the side of the SUV, still listening in, but texting Chloe at the same time.

Her earpiece crackled. Drone guy. Four vans, inbound, just blew through a roadblock.

Max looked down the road to see a loose line of assorted vans barreling toward her. She wasn't sure why John's reinforcements would need to blow past a roadblock? Didn't look like they were slowing down.

Shit!

One jumped the curb at the crosswalk fifty feet away, heading over the plaza grounds toward the building entrance. One van braked hard, skidded a little sideways, stopped behind their SUVs. The two others went around behind her, pulling to a halt in front. The first van crashed through the front of the lobby, scattering the office workers evacuated from the second floor, sending glass flying everywhere.

Max heard the doors to the van behind open. Turned to look. Five men piled out the side. Two saw her, shouted to the others in Russian, said her name, pointed their guns at her and fired.

Her world froze. Static. Color drained. Time slamming back and forth between fractions of a second, vibrations intensifying.

Death rewind.

They would have killed her just then.

Obviously Russians. Here for Dmitri? And me apparently. Guess they've given up taking me alive.

So that's how it's gonna be?

She broke the hold, ran the world back.

I'm in a valley of glass buildings. Too many bystanders for shockwaves. No time to alert John. They'd just get into a gun battle anyway.

Sorry Russian dudes. But there are too many people here who will get hurt if we play this your way.

Or mine.

What would Chloe do?

Max kept pushing back, released just before the radio alert, back to normal flow. She opened the front passenger door of the SUV. She'd seen it underneath on the ride over. Reached below the seat and took out the short shotgun. I always thought that was just a saying, but…

Her earpiece crackled. Drone guy. Four vans, inbound, just blew through a roadblock.

Max turned, looked down the road to see a loose line of assorted vans barreling toward her.

She waited.

Just as the first van was about to hop onto the sidewalk at the crosswalk, she hit full stop. Walked over. Next to the van, still in the street. Driver. Passenger. Four in back. Machine guns. Grenades?! Seriously? WTF dudes? She got into position, released time to crawl forward. Wheels moved forward less than half an inch when she pulled the trigger on the shotgun. It went off, she could feel it kick hard, but no sound. Nine large pellets slowed to a creep once they left the barrel, moving inexorably toward the rubber of the tire. She froze time again. Repeated the process with the rear wheel on that side. Freeze. Reached in through the side window, let time slide slow again, snapped the steering wheel off at the base with a quick strike of her hand. Removed the pin on the driver's chest-mounted grenade. Freeze.

She walked back to her team's SUV, leaned back, let time go. Sounded like two rapid gun blasts. Both driver's side tires blew. The van pitched left. Missed the ramp. Hit the curb. Hit the concrete light pole. Wrapped around. Stopped dead.

The next van braked hard, skidded a little sideways, stopped behind their SUVs. The two others went around behind her, pulling to a halt in front.

Max heard the doors to the van behind open. She was already looking. Five men piled out the side. Two saw her, shouted to the others in Russian, said her name, pointed their guns at her.

Stop.

Walked around behind.

Start.

They fired. Hit air. She cleared her throat. Two not firing turned. The crashed van fifty feet behind her exploded. Six down. Max fired.

Stop. Move to the side. Start. Fire. Stop.

Driver's side. Start. Fire. Let time run. Three dropped. Nine down.

Stop. Back around to the passenger side. Three in mid-dive. Start. Fire. Stop. Ten down.

Move a few feet to the side. Start. Click. Stop. Shit. Out of shells.

She walked over to the vans stopped in front of their SUVs. Twelve more men, already scrambled out of their vehicles, diving, looking back, looking for cover. She saw that two of them had pistols on their belts. She stood behind one to the rear of the group. Hand near his belt. Let time run forward at half speed, unhooked the retaining strap. Grabbed the pistol, and pulled it up and away. Freeze. She repeated the process with a guy to the side of the first. Stop.

Two pistols. This should actually go pretty fast now. She went back to the back van. Lined up on the two trying to get back up. Start. Firefire. Stop.

Walked over near the entrance to the building. Let time go. Twelve down. Twelve to go.

Stop.

She looked out.

Dropped down to one knee.

A moment of stillness. She looked, really looked at what she'd done.

Fire frozen mid-burn from the van down the road, six men, impact trauma, burned to death. Six men dead on the ground outside the van behind. Each of them shot in the head at close range. Blood bone and pulp and inside-out and ugh. She made herself look. She did this. And by letting this stand, she was choosing this.

Twelve men dead.

Each with hopes and dreams and families of some sort, right? Each of these people and someone somewhere who loved them maybe? She didn't know what circumstances brought them to where they were. But if she took them now, she'd be robbing them of any chance of change. Of redemption. Would any of these men go on to father children? And their children? Was she taking out entire family lines? Right here? Right now?

Twelve lives extinguished so far. And you want twelve more? Who's the monster?

She couldn't keep it in. She threw up her breakfast in a planter near the door.

She still felt sick. The kind you can't shake over a planter.

She could argue it was self-defense. Anyone could. Her options to defend herself from twenty-four men armed with guns and grenades were limited. She was just a girl. Even with abilities, no one would blame her for taking this path. But inside she knew.

This wasn't defense. It wasn't even close to a fair fight. These were executions. Anger. For killing Chloe. For trying to kill her. But Chloe is fine. And she was fine.

This was a violent path. A path of death. Destruction. Is this what she was? What she wanted for herself? Is this what Chloe would want for her? If this was okay now, what would be okay in the future? This was the path of Vader. To see these horrors made real. To inflict them, knowing she could undo them, and just move on. If she left these men dead, this was her choice. Not necessity. Choice.

This would be an example of the world being the way it was because she made it that way.

What kind of world would that be? What kind of foundation for a future was this?

Was Sophie right?

Was she just going to be a more powerful version of them?

The cave. The paintings. So filled with wonder and hope. And happiness and life.

She rolled up her sleeve, looked down at her butterflies with shame.

She didn't deserve them.

Rachel. One life missing. So many affected.

Twelve men. Each one was someone's Rachel.

What she'd just done, taken, belonged to the other side of that cave. The other wall. Darkness and grease and smoke.

This had been so easy. So fast. Just adrenaline. And power.

But it was wrong. And she knew it.

There was always another way. There had to be.

She was better than this.

She had to be…better than this.

She had a responsibility.

To them. To herself. To Chloe. To life. To everyone.

This wasn't her. She didn't want this. Not if there was any other way.

She had to find another way.

She put down the guns.

Rewind.