Author: IrishRavenX
Title: Little Hope of Escape
Disclaimer: Guess who doesn't own Witchblade, yeah, that'd me, baby.
O_o...don't rub it in.
Thanks to all who reviewed...I haven't had time for individual responses to the reviews this time around...(I regret that...I find it quite fun).
So, for today, a generic THANKS to everyone...the reviews keep me going!
Authors Note: Sorry about the infrequent posts..my muses are beating on me, and I've been spending most of my time reading Carl Hiaasen books. If you haven't read anything by him...go out and buy one. I'd recommend "Tourist Season", or "Double Whammy". Hehe. Now that I'm done advertising...onto the story...
**************************************************************************** *************
Chapter XVII
**************************************************************************** *************
Central Park was quiet for the time of day, and the dew on the grass was beginning to evaporate as morning turned into afternoon. The bunnies were quietly grazing on the lawn, wisely deciding to stay out of view of the Wielder.
The birds could be heard, mainly pigeons; the faint conversations of passing joggers, as well as the people trying to spend the full extent of their lunch break out of the office. And those statue people who scare the b'jesus out of the tourists. Okay, so maybe it wasn't silent...but it was calmer than usual.
It was all calm and peaceful, until a yell echoed through the calm New York City park.
"He's what?!"
Gabriel cringed, and looked around the part, hoping that Sara's outburst hadn't attracted too much attention. Gabe lifted his hood and looked at the smiling Ian and enraged Sara.
"Geez, Sara, lets try to keep a profile on the 'low' side."
"A low profile, Gabriel?" Sara asked loudly, "This is New York...people don't notice, don't care, and are damn difficult people to surprise. You could dress Ian up in pink and cover him in chocolate, and few people would care. Sure, maybe a few would stop to lick him, but other than that..."
Sara paused...a chocolate covered Ian...that was actually a pretty nice thought...
"There are now two Gabriel Bowmans?" Ian asked ignoring the chocolate comment. He was still amused by the two men.
"Yeah, that's the main gist of it," Gabriel replied.
"So...you're twice as annoying now," Ian noted with a nod.
Gabriel narrowed his eyes, and moments later Ian flinched as a bolt of electricity ran up his arm. He reached down to the band on his wrist, startled. Ian looked to Gabriel, who was smiling from ear to ear.
"That was not nice, Gabriel," Kenni scolded, his face fixed with a look of six-year old determination.
"What?" Gabriel asked, shrugging innocently.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Xeire watched the coverage of the Los Angeles situation, grinning. She sometimes found her father's antics annoying and crude...however this...this she found highly amusing. She had nothing against either Detective Woo or Detective McCarty...but this was as funny as hell. The authorities didn't know what to make of it...and why should they? Two colleagues, police nonetheless, without a prior records...
The lady on the television screen was trying to make sense of it, but she wasn't much better of a job than the guy on channel 5. The only comment they had gotten was from a police officer, who had said in a thick Boston accent;
"It's f'iggin' wei'd,"
(A/N: Which roughly translates to "friggin' weird". No matter where you are in the U.S., it seems like the police officer that gives a quote has an outrageous accent of some sort...an accent even more elaborate than the normal. Okay, back to the story...)
Xeire could understand why the whole mess had the police stumped...yet it was still hilarious. Probably not so much for the officers on the scene, or the people trying to go on vacation...or for anyone employed by the Los Angeles airport...or for any one in the immediate area.
The telephone rang, and Xeire ignored it, for the first five rings. When no one picked it up, Xeire reached over for it, nearly falling out of her seat in the process.
"Hello?"
"Xeire?" Ian's voice inquired.
"Yes?"
"Can you meet us at the JFK airport in forty-five minutes?"
"Yes...but first may I inquire why?"
"Not now, no,"
"Let me rephrase that...why?" Xeire said flatly. There was no response, and Xeire spoke again after a few moments, "You realize that I do not appreciate these sort of surprises, correct?"
"I assumed as much,"
"As long as that is *very* clear."
**************************************************************************** ************
Ian opened the glass door of the main airport terminal, allowing Sara, Kenni, and Xeire to walk in. He let the door shut in Gabe and Gabriel's faces (or is that *face*? Having two doubles from different time periods is messing with my plurals...and tenses...hell...it's fecked up all of my grammar. If it's even plausible that my grammar could be mussed with any further...)
Xeire looked around the airport at all the people, rather nervous. She didn't like crowds...she didn't particularly like people, either.
"Uh, Mr. Nottingham..." Gabe inquired from under his hood, "Why aren't we taking one of your employer's private jets?"
Xeire replied for him:
"A plane, the passengers being six people linked to the Witchblade...35 thousand feet up...the possibilities for my father to mess with us are without end. This way we are ensuring our safety.'
"Also, the private jet would be unable to land in the L.A. airport due to the current situation. This plane is landing in a separate terminal, and from there, we will be able to get to Detective Pezzini's psychotic partners,"
"I'm getting the feeling that we'll just be putting the lives of innocent bystanders at risk," Sara said, locking gazes with Xeire.
"My father would not do such a thing."
"Really? I got the impression..."
"We need to have our tickets checked," Ian interrupted, wishing to avoid the impending apocalypse that would occur if the two women got into a fight. Ian made a note to separate them on the plane.
Ian made his way through the crowd with grace, and the others followed, not having such an easy time navigating through the crowds of the airport. The airport was characteristically packed, with all different sorts of people... business-men, families going on vacation, couples going on romantic getaways, family members seeing their kids off...
Sara stopped when Kenni ceased walking, and stared at a young boy standing next to his father. The father was a tall man, with light hair, with presence that demanded attention. The boy had dark brown hair, and was about Kenni's age. He saw something in the crowd, and the young brown-hired boy's eyes lit up.
"Mummy!"
A small boy ran and jumped into his mother's arms, who dropped her bags to catch him. Kenni watched this, the joyful mood he was in disappearing, and a look of pain in his eyes.
"Kenni? What's wrong?" Sara asked.
"Nothing," the small boy replied.
"That doesn't look like a 'nothing' face, Kenni,"
The small boy looked up, his blue eyes tearful.
"I miss her."
The emotion in those simple words were so powerful, Sara was unable to reply for a few moments.
"I know, sweetie, I know. But we need to make the best of what we have here. I'll tell you what," Sara said, putting her hand on his head reassuringly, "If it would make you feel better...just think of us as your family for now."
Kenni looked up to the mix-matched group of people and smiled.
"Okey,"
Sara gave him a reassuring smile and rubbed his hair.
"Want to get a coloring book when we get to our gate?"
"Färbenden Buch?" Kenni inquired, his six-year attitude slowly returning.
"Yeah," Sara said, with a reassuring smile, "Färbenden Buch,"
**************************************************************************** *************
"Can I help the next person in line?" asked the clerk at the 'First Class' booth. Ian stepped forward and handed the clerk the tickets.
"Hello, Mr. Nottingham. How many people are flying with your party today?" asked the clerk (whose name tag read 'Cindy'), while looking at the tickets.
"Six, and one extra seat, please."
The clerk worked behind the counter, scribbling illegible things down on the tickets. She glanced up from the counter to look at the man, wondering if it would be wise to ask too many question. The man was wearing a long black coat, and Cindy wondered whether or not it would be wise to inform him that he'd have to take it off to go through the security check...
"Any items to check?"
"No," Ian was seriously thinking about having Kenni put in the plane's hold.
"Here you are, Mr. Nottingham. Enjoy your flight,"
Ian took the tickets and placed them in his pocket and walked to the back of the line where Sara and the others were waiting. They were a very mix- matched bunch. Two assassins; one the daughter of a god, a beautiful cop, two vagran...shopkeepers, and the six-year old version of a hundred year old billionaire. The Witchblade certainly did have a sense of humor.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A man and a woman, dressed in business suits sat in the airport terminal for a connecting flight to Los Angeles. The woman had blue eyes framed by brilliant auburn hair, and was leafing through a folder, her hand covering the portion of the folder that read 'Confidential'. The man had brown hair and hazel eyes, and his tall figure was stretched across the seats behind the woman, his hand supporting his head as he rested.
"Mulder, how is it that you manage to get us the most inconvenient connecting flights?" Dana Scully inquired, looking over a case file.
Fox Mulder chewed thoughtfully on a sunflower seed before responding.
"Well, Scully, I just can't get enough of you. This way I get to spend long hours with you, sitting around in airport terminals and ogling."
Scully looked over to see Mulder smiling, the playful expression lighting up his eyes. Scully couldn't help but smile, and went back to reading the file. She flipped through the pages, searching for something, until she finally closed the folder and dropped it onto Mulder's lap.
"Okay Mulder...I give up, what makes this an X-File?"
"Two men, police officers without previous records, suddenly go off at one another, locked in a deadly stalemate in a Los Angeles airport. I don't know about you, Scully, but that doesn't seem like normal behavior to me." replied Mulder as he spit the sunflower seed into the garbage can beside him.
"You? Normal behavior?" Scully suggested, "It is quite possible that one of them just got tired of being dragged around on outrageous, out of the way cases."
Mulder looked over the chair at Scully, who only smiled in response.
"In any case, this event hasn't been the only irregularity concerning the precinct these officers worked in. Apparently, there's been reports of wild animals overtaking the precinct, zombies, and various other abnormalities."
"Zombies?"
"Yeah, Scully, you know...the living dead, undead eaters of flesh, abominations..."
"I get the point, Mulder. Now, why aren't we just going to the precinct and questioning some of the officers?" Scully asked, "It says that the office is right in this area."
"No one is at the precinct. The officers have all disappeared. The only one seen recently is a Detective; "Sara Pezzini". But no one has been able to get in touch with her."
"Has anyone tried her home address?"
"Local authorities report that she isn't there, and hasn't been there in the past day."
Scully looked over the picture of the detective. She didn't look like someone who would be working for the NYPD, but the woman's eyes told a different story. Detective Pezzini looked like she was a woman to be reckoned with, though not someone you would like to piss off.
"She's pretty hot, what do you think, Scully?" Mulder asked with a teasing look on his face.
"I think she'd rip you in two."
"But that's *your* job, Scully,"
"Hey Mulder?" Scully asked.
"Uh-huh?"
Scully looked at him sternly for a few moments before suddenly reaching over and tickling him. Mulder fell off the chairs he was lying on, and Scully went back to reading the files as if nothing had happened.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'm still not sure that this is a good idea, Sara," Gabriel said, "So many things could go wrong...weirdness just seems to follow us."
"If Xeire says we'll be all right, I'm going to take her word for it," Sara replied.
"Eh...I'm flattered, but I'm getting the feeling..." Xeire stopped and turned around. Sara followed her gaze, and saw a mime following them on roller skates.
It honked a horn as he passed Sara and Xeire, then slowed to match Ian's pace, mimicking his stern face and long stride.
Ian glanced over to the mime, and continued on, ignoring it. The people in the terminal were beginning to take notice of the mime and the assassin, pointing and snickering. Ian looked over to the mime again, and glared. This only made the mime become more annoying, and soon a crowd began to grow around them, looking and laughing.
In one swift movement, Ian put his leg out, tripping the mime and causing it to go flying. The mime landed on the floor while still in motion and slid into the crowd, taking out a few tourists in the process.
The crowd quickly dispersed, and Ian allowed himself a small smile. Taking down a mime and a few tourists...always a promising way to start the day.
**************************************************************************** *************
Xeire stopped at the sight of the metal detector, and after a few steps, the rest did too.
"They are going to ask me to take off my trench coat, aren't they?" Xeire inquired, quickly going over the things that she had on her that she would not be able to take on the plane; and could possibly be arrested for.
"How are we going to get Ian through the metal detector?" Gabe inquired in a hushed whisper, looking at the long line of people being patted down by security and having the wand run over them.
"He has an arsenal under there," Gabriel said, pointing to the trench coat.
"I left most of my weapons in the car," Ian replied quietly, moving Gabriel's hand away from his coat, "I am quite sure I will be able to make it through."
"What about the blades in your boots?" Xeire asked.
"I don't...how did you know about those?" inquired a slightly startled Ian.
"Don't ask...just think,"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I really hope you liked the chapter...
And you know what would make me ecstatic...if you pressed the little button and reviewed...only three minutes of your time. It'll make my week!!!!!!!!! (Yeah, I'm that pathetic :P )
Title: Little Hope of Escape
Disclaimer: Guess who doesn't own Witchblade, yeah, that'd me, baby.
O_o...don't rub it in.
Thanks to all who reviewed...I haven't had time for individual responses to the reviews this time around...(I regret that...I find it quite fun).
So, for today, a generic THANKS to everyone...the reviews keep me going!
Authors Note: Sorry about the infrequent posts..my muses are beating on me, and I've been spending most of my time reading Carl Hiaasen books. If you haven't read anything by him...go out and buy one. I'd recommend "Tourist Season", or "Double Whammy". Hehe. Now that I'm done advertising...onto the story...
**************************************************************************** *************
Chapter XVII
**************************************************************************** *************
Central Park was quiet for the time of day, and the dew on the grass was beginning to evaporate as morning turned into afternoon. The bunnies were quietly grazing on the lawn, wisely deciding to stay out of view of the Wielder.
The birds could be heard, mainly pigeons; the faint conversations of passing joggers, as well as the people trying to spend the full extent of their lunch break out of the office. And those statue people who scare the b'jesus out of the tourists. Okay, so maybe it wasn't silent...but it was calmer than usual.
It was all calm and peaceful, until a yell echoed through the calm New York City park.
"He's what?!"
Gabriel cringed, and looked around the part, hoping that Sara's outburst hadn't attracted too much attention. Gabe lifted his hood and looked at the smiling Ian and enraged Sara.
"Geez, Sara, lets try to keep a profile on the 'low' side."
"A low profile, Gabriel?" Sara asked loudly, "This is New York...people don't notice, don't care, and are damn difficult people to surprise. You could dress Ian up in pink and cover him in chocolate, and few people would care. Sure, maybe a few would stop to lick him, but other than that..."
Sara paused...a chocolate covered Ian...that was actually a pretty nice thought...
"There are now two Gabriel Bowmans?" Ian asked ignoring the chocolate comment. He was still amused by the two men.
"Yeah, that's the main gist of it," Gabriel replied.
"So...you're twice as annoying now," Ian noted with a nod.
Gabriel narrowed his eyes, and moments later Ian flinched as a bolt of electricity ran up his arm. He reached down to the band on his wrist, startled. Ian looked to Gabriel, who was smiling from ear to ear.
"That was not nice, Gabriel," Kenni scolded, his face fixed with a look of six-year old determination.
"What?" Gabriel asked, shrugging innocently.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Xeire watched the coverage of the Los Angeles situation, grinning. She sometimes found her father's antics annoying and crude...however this...this she found highly amusing. She had nothing against either Detective Woo or Detective McCarty...but this was as funny as hell. The authorities didn't know what to make of it...and why should they? Two colleagues, police nonetheless, without a prior records...
The lady on the television screen was trying to make sense of it, but she wasn't much better of a job than the guy on channel 5. The only comment they had gotten was from a police officer, who had said in a thick Boston accent;
"It's f'iggin' wei'd,"
(A/N: Which roughly translates to "friggin' weird". No matter where you are in the U.S., it seems like the police officer that gives a quote has an outrageous accent of some sort...an accent even more elaborate than the normal. Okay, back to the story...)
Xeire could understand why the whole mess had the police stumped...yet it was still hilarious. Probably not so much for the officers on the scene, or the people trying to go on vacation...or for anyone employed by the Los Angeles airport...or for any one in the immediate area.
The telephone rang, and Xeire ignored it, for the first five rings. When no one picked it up, Xeire reached over for it, nearly falling out of her seat in the process.
"Hello?"
"Xeire?" Ian's voice inquired.
"Yes?"
"Can you meet us at the JFK airport in forty-five minutes?"
"Yes...but first may I inquire why?"
"Not now, no,"
"Let me rephrase that...why?" Xeire said flatly. There was no response, and Xeire spoke again after a few moments, "You realize that I do not appreciate these sort of surprises, correct?"
"I assumed as much,"
"As long as that is *very* clear."
**************************************************************************** ************
Ian opened the glass door of the main airport terminal, allowing Sara, Kenni, and Xeire to walk in. He let the door shut in Gabe and Gabriel's faces (or is that *face*? Having two doubles from different time periods is messing with my plurals...and tenses...hell...it's fecked up all of my grammar. If it's even plausible that my grammar could be mussed with any further...)
Xeire looked around the airport at all the people, rather nervous. She didn't like crowds...she didn't particularly like people, either.
"Uh, Mr. Nottingham..." Gabe inquired from under his hood, "Why aren't we taking one of your employer's private jets?"
Xeire replied for him:
"A plane, the passengers being six people linked to the Witchblade...35 thousand feet up...the possibilities for my father to mess with us are without end. This way we are ensuring our safety.'
"Also, the private jet would be unable to land in the L.A. airport due to the current situation. This plane is landing in a separate terminal, and from there, we will be able to get to Detective Pezzini's psychotic partners,"
"I'm getting the feeling that we'll just be putting the lives of innocent bystanders at risk," Sara said, locking gazes with Xeire.
"My father would not do such a thing."
"Really? I got the impression..."
"We need to have our tickets checked," Ian interrupted, wishing to avoid the impending apocalypse that would occur if the two women got into a fight. Ian made a note to separate them on the plane.
Ian made his way through the crowd with grace, and the others followed, not having such an easy time navigating through the crowds of the airport. The airport was characteristically packed, with all different sorts of people... business-men, families going on vacation, couples going on romantic getaways, family members seeing their kids off...
Sara stopped when Kenni ceased walking, and stared at a young boy standing next to his father. The father was a tall man, with light hair, with presence that demanded attention. The boy had dark brown hair, and was about Kenni's age. He saw something in the crowd, and the young brown-hired boy's eyes lit up.
"Mummy!"
A small boy ran and jumped into his mother's arms, who dropped her bags to catch him. Kenni watched this, the joyful mood he was in disappearing, and a look of pain in his eyes.
"Kenni? What's wrong?" Sara asked.
"Nothing," the small boy replied.
"That doesn't look like a 'nothing' face, Kenni,"
The small boy looked up, his blue eyes tearful.
"I miss her."
The emotion in those simple words were so powerful, Sara was unable to reply for a few moments.
"I know, sweetie, I know. But we need to make the best of what we have here. I'll tell you what," Sara said, putting her hand on his head reassuringly, "If it would make you feel better...just think of us as your family for now."
Kenni looked up to the mix-matched group of people and smiled.
"Okey,"
Sara gave him a reassuring smile and rubbed his hair.
"Want to get a coloring book when we get to our gate?"
"Färbenden Buch?" Kenni inquired, his six-year attitude slowly returning.
"Yeah," Sara said, with a reassuring smile, "Färbenden Buch,"
**************************************************************************** *************
"Can I help the next person in line?" asked the clerk at the 'First Class' booth. Ian stepped forward and handed the clerk the tickets.
"Hello, Mr. Nottingham. How many people are flying with your party today?" asked the clerk (whose name tag read 'Cindy'), while looking at the tickets.
"Six, and one extra seat, please."
The clerk worked behind the counter, scribbling illegible things down on the tickets. She glanced up from the counter to look at the man, wondering if it would be wise to ask too many question. The man was wearing a long black coat, and Cindy wondered whether or not it would be wise to inform him that he'd have to take it off to go through the security check...
"Any items to check?"
"No," Ian was seriously thinking about having Kenni put in the plane's hold.
"Here you are, Mr. Nottingham. Enjoy your flight,"
Ian took the tickets and placed them in his pocket and walked to the back of the line where Sara and the others were waiting. They were a very mix- matched bunch. Two assassins; one the daughter of a god, a beautiful cop, two vagran...shopkeepers, and the six-year old version of a hundred year old billionaire. The Witchblade certainly did have a sense of humor.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A man and a woman, dressed in business suits sat in the airport terminal for a connecting flight to Los Angeles. The woman had blue eyes framed by brilliant auburn hair, and was leafing through a folder, her hand covering the portion of the folder that read 'Confidential'. The man had brown hair and hazel eyes, and his tall figure was stretched across the seats behind the woman, his hand supporting his head as he rested.
"Mulder, how is it that you manage to get us the most inconvenient connecting flights?" Dana Scully inquired, looking over a case file.
Fox Mulder chewed thoughtfully on a sunflower seed before responding.
"Well, Scully, I just can't get enough of you. This way I get to spend long hours with you, sitting around in airport terminals and ogling."
Scully looked over to see Mulder smiling, the playful expression lighting up his eyes. Scully couldn't help but smile, and went back to reading the file. She flipped through the pages, searching for something, until she finally closed the folder and dropped it onto Mulder's lap.
"Okay Mulder...I give up, what makes this an X-File?"
"Two men, police officers without previous records, suddenly go off at one another, locked in a deadly stalemate in a Los Angeles airport. I don't know about you, Scully, but that doesn't seem like normal behavior to me." replied Mulder as he spit the sunflower seed into the garbage can beside him.
"You? Normal behavior?" Scully suggested, "It is quite possible that one of them just got tired of being dragged around on outrageous, out of the way cases."
Mulder looked over the chair at Scully, who only smiled in response.
"In any case, this event hasn't been the only irregularity concerning the precinct these officers worked in. Apparently, there's been reports of wild animals overtaking the precinct, zombies, and various other abnormalities."
"Zombies?"
"Yeah, Scully, you know...the living dead, undead eaters of flesh, abominations..."
"I get the point, Mulder. Now, why aren't we just going to the precinct and questioning some of the officers?" Scully asked, "It says that the office is right in this area."
"No one is at the precinct. The officers have all disappeared. The only one seen recently is a Detective; "Sara Pezzini". But no one has been able to get in touch with her."
"Has anyone tried her home address?"
"Local authorities report that she isn't there, and hasn't been there in the past day."
Scully looked over the picture of the detective. She didn't look like someone who would be working for the NYPD, but the woman's eyes told a different story. Detective Pezzini looked like she was a woman to be reckoned with, though not someone you would like to piss off.
"She's pretty hot, what do you think, Scully?" Mulder asked with a teasing look on his face.
"I think she'd rip you in two."
"But that's *your* job, Scully,"
"Hey Mulder?" Scully asked.
"Uh-huh?"
Scully looked at him sternly for a few moments before suddenly reaching over and tickling him. Mulder fell off the chairs he was lying on, and Scully went back to reading the files as if nothing had happened.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'm still not sure that this is a good idea, Sara," Gabriel said, "So many things could go wrong...weirdness just seems to follow us."
"If Xeire says we'll be all right, I'm going to take her word for it," Sara replied.
"Eh...I'm flattered, but I'm getting the feeling..." Xeire stopped and turned around. Sara followed her gaze, and saw a mime following them on roller skates.
It honked a horn as he passed Sara and Xeire, then slowed to match Ian's pace, mimicking his stern face and long stride.
Ian glanced over to the mime, and continued on, ignoring it. The people in the terminal were beginning to take notice of the mime and the assassin, pointing and snickering. Ian looked over to the mime again, and glared. This only made the mime become more annoying, and soon a crowd began to grow around them, looking and laughing.
In one swift movement, Ian put his leg out, tripping the mime and causing it to go flying. The mime landed on the floor while still in motion and slid into the crowd, taking out a few tourists in the process.
The crowd quickly dispersed, and Ian allowed himself a small smile. Taking down a mime and a few tourists...always a promising way to start the day.
**************************************************************************** *************
Xeire stopped at the sight of the metal detector, and after a few steps, the rest did too.
"They are going to ask me to take off my trench coat, aren't they?" Xeire inquired, quickly going over the things that she had on her that she would not be able to take on the plane; and could possibly be arrested for.
"How are we going to get Ian through the metal detector?" Gabe inquired in a hushed whisper, looking at the long line of people being patted down by security and having the wand run over them.
"He has an arsenal under there," Gabriel said, pointing to the trench coat.
"I left most of my weapons in the car," Ian replied quietly, moving Gabriel's hand away from his coat, "I am quite sure I will be able to make it through."
"What about the blades in your boots?" Xeire asked.
"I don't...how did you know about those?" inquired a slightly startled Ian.
"Don't ask...just think,"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I really hope you liked the chapter...
And you know what would make me ecstatic...if you pressed the little button and reviewed...only three minutes of your time. It'll make my week!!!!!!!!! (Yeah, I'm that pathetic :P )
