Claire Bennet

Peter's Apartment

The sun was going down when Claire finally woke up. Never before had she spent all night on the internet, talking to someone she'd probably never meet, or even know their real name. It was a freeing feeling she felt, like she could say anything to this guy and not fear it coming back to bite her,

She crawled from the bed, a little thick headed from sleeping so long, and went to the bathroom. Finishing that, she wandered about the kitchen, looking for something to eat.

It struck her like thunder. It was the first time she woke up not thinking about Peter, her two dads, or anything else. She almost dropped the leftover pizza she'd pulled from the fridge. It amazed her at how fast her situation had changed due one small detail. Here she stood, in her presumably dead uncle's kitchen in a pair of his scrubs, not wondering if he was dead or alive. It was like a bowling ball had dropped in her stomach. Besides, wasn't she supposed to be mad at Nathan for doing the same thing?

On the counter, her phone blinked, telling her she had messages. Claire picked it up as she went to sit on the couch. Flipping it open, she groaned. They were all from Nathan. He probably just wanted to know if she made it home okay. If she didn't, Noah would more than likely beat the crap out of him.

She laughed at that image and opened the laptop Nathan had given her. The thought of her father trying to beat up a guy who could fly was laughable. She logged onto the site with ease this time. Already, she had several friend invites, including one from a night club called Mutant. That one intrigued her. She clicked on the link, which brought her to a page about this club.

Mutant offered a safe club environment for people with gifts, taking a stand against the common hatred for their 'kind' that people felt after the explosion. Bar, live music, karaoke, and nothing but people with gifts. She added it to her friends list, as well as one from Shade, the ex-high school quarterback.

Claire sat there for awhile, letting her mind jump where ever it wished and ate. Her neighbor had said something that caught her attention, but she didn't look into it then. "Like MySpace for freaks like us," he'd said the night before. She never told him that she had an ability, nor did she know that he did. It was a matter that called for some investigating.

A clip popped up in her message box, and she watched it while she ate. The caption included asked whether or not the Agents that were supposed to protect them were up to snuff. The video showed a rather odd camera angle from gas station security camera of an agent being phased through a car by a bystander or possible victim. She thought she recognized the agent.

A moment later, she remembered. Matt Parkman, the guy from Kirby Plaza who took four in the chest. It was also the cop who'd arrested and held Peter back in Odessa when Sylar attacked.

She went to a news-site and there on the front page was a screen grab from the security video with the caption, 'Public demands Parkman's job removed'. The story was in the same vein:

'…Many people are upset over the incident. In another skirmish with the killer Sylar, Parkman is shown endangering the possible victim and himself in what is being called a desperation move to take down the killer. If it wasn't for the girl herself, who we will not name due to privacy laws, both of them would have been killed. The public outcry has been universal in demanding that Parkman, at the least, be pulled off the Sylar case. Agency directors are expected to a make a statement later in the week…'

Claire found herself revolted at the news. Parkman did what he had to, and in all of Dr. Suresh's talks, he talks about helping each other out in times of need. Both of them did what they could and both of them walked away. Why should he be fired over something that they are told to do? Without him, Sylar's victim list would have skyrocketed. Claire prayed they didn't find out that Molly was his secret weapon.

Molly's power of finding people has grown tremendously in the last four months. Now, not only can she find Sylar, but she can identify his next victim, allowing for ambushes and stings.

At the bottom of the story where a few more links to related stories, one involving the groups trying to oppress the evolutionarily advanced, and another about the latest Sylar victims. She clicked this one.

The list had grown astronomically in the past week or so. Just after last night, five new names had been added. The girl who phased Matt and herself through a car, Claire discovered, legally couldn't be revealed without parental permission due to the fact that she was a minor, which was now impossible since her father's name was added to the Sylar obituaries, which gave away her name anyway. Claire decided that she would report this little loop hole to Noah, later.

Smokey

New York City, New York

He sat in his armchair, listening to Claire breathe next door, hating the requirements of his job. Now that he knew she was there, he picked up his phone and dialed the first number in his registry. A moment later, Mr. Bennet answered. "Well?" he asked.

Smokey nodded. "She's in there, sir. She slept most of the day, but she's fine."

"Good," Noah said, exhaling in relief, then he hung up. Smokey smiled, putting his phone back in his pocket. Mr. Bennet never did have good phone manners. Nor was he as good a judge if character as he thought. Smokey had other bosses, more important bosses, each with a reason to keep an eye on Claire.

Smokey, or Brian Alder, was chosen as a way to keep everyone honest. To date, he'd received payments from three different people, each with a separate interest in Claire. That didn't include his real boss, the only one of them that had his real loyalty.

First, there was Noah and the Agency. They paid the worst, but of the other three, they were the only with a 'wholesome' interest in the indestructible cheerleader. Both of her fathers were in charge at the Agency, biological and adopted. Both wanted to be kept in the loop. Both wanted only good things for her.

Then, there was Prometheus, an organization that wanted to study Claire, cut her up and see what grew back. Their only interest was that no one else got to her first, not until they were done with her. They were his only real conflict of interest; it was only a matter of time before they sent one of their own after Claire, and Smokey would then be forced to reveal himself to Claire. Prometheus would not be a happy camp.

The other group was a more secretive group; a company that everyone thinks is dead. Smokey had been contact by Robert Bishop after he'd moved in. They were interested in Claire's blood, thinking it a cure-all to everything. As of yet, they've made no move neither towards nor away from Claire, and Smokey liked it like that.

His real employer did not pay, and he refused to even think about them, per chance that someone like Parkman was around. Speaking of them, he had a phone call to make. He removed his phone, and called his contact, a woman Smokey called Swan.

"I think I've found the one we're looking for," he said, "but I may have blown my cover. We spoke the other day, sort of a neighborly thing, nothing to big, but I thought I should report it anyway." Swan said nothing, but he could hear the scratching of a pencil on paper.

After several minutes of silence, Swan speaks. "Very good. I don't believe this is a suitable reason for abandoning the watch, but it is nice to know that you're still loyal to us, considering what we have done for you."

"Always," Smokey said, trying to beat Swan's hang up, but he couldn't tell when the dial town kicked in. He sighed, dropping the phone to the coffee table and leaning back on his couch. Such was his life, constantly trying to reach out to those around him only to be hung up on.

Kit Frost

Phoenix, Arizona

The SUV bumped heavily as they headed away from the city into the surrounding desert. Next to him, Frost's partner Ashe sat quietly staring out the window. Caleb Valentine, an intensely silent young man with dark hair, sat in the back. He had given them a small demonstration of his talent, wilting a rose bush in a matter of seconds with just a glancing touch.

Ashe was clearly astonished at the strength Caleb's talent, or perhaps dismayed. Frost just thought it was cool and tried on several occasions to strike up a conversation with him. Neither the boy nor Ashe wanted to talk, and it was going to make this trip to Los Angeles even longer.

Frost clicked on the radio to a rock station and sat back, trying to enjoy the drive. All of them knew how it was going to end, with Caleb on a flight to Australia, and Frost and Ashe sent to collect another Evolutionarily Advanced person, or EA according to Ashe.

He glanced over at his partner. Ashe was quite the looker. He wondered just what she did in the Armed Forces, even asked her when they meet, but she refused to talk about it, or about her days in the SWAT. She seemed to ignore Frost completely, preferring to keep their talk about work and work only. Only once did she give a fleeting glimpse as to who she really was, and that was when the rose bush died. If this kept up, he thought, it was going to be a hard partnership destined to end in ruins.

He knew that the trip was going to go easy; he felt it in his gut. Secretly, he hoped the next trip would be a little more exiting.

The radio crackled to life, spitting out a spray of static before a woman's voice could get through. "Agent Parkman, come in. Repeat, Agent Parkman, come in."

Something surged in his stomach, a feeling he hadn't felt before. Instantly, he thought that Parkman was in some kind of danger. He could feel it radiate from the woman's voice. He hoped it wasn't serious, even though he wanted Parkman's job.

Matt spoke a few minutes later. "Marie, this Parkman. What is it?"

"You have a new assignment as of ten pm this evening," the dispatcher said. "You are to report to New Orleans and pick up a Class 2 suspect, name of Dawkins. Call base for more info."

The static died away, only to be filled with a voice Frost didn't know. "What's a Class 2?" He looked into the back and saw the inquisitive eyes of Caleb.

"A person of interest," Ashe said. "In this case, it probably refers to a gifted person Sylar may be after."

Caleb nodded, his eyes looking into the rearview mirror. "What am I?"

"Class 3," Ashe said. "It's a gifted person with possible dangerous talents, non-dangerous threat."

"What's a Class 1?"

Ashe frowned, her brow furrowing. "You sure do have a lot of questions."

"I like to learn," Caleb said.

With a sigh, Ashe said, "A Class 1 suspect is dangerous talents in a dangerous person. Mostly, it refers to Sylar."

The static spurted out of the radio again, and Marie spoke. "Parkman, come in. You have a phone call from Miss Walker. Repeat, Miss Walker for Parkman, waiting on line one."

Martin Baker

Location Unknown

Martin scowled at the boss, the pretty little blonde boy that Prometheus put here to keep an eye on him. He introduced himself as Adam Munroe, and said he had orders to speak with Point Zero. He was now in the cell with the subject, along with all the notes Martin had on him.

He excused Julie, took a seat at the desk, and listened in on the conversation. Munroe spoke first. "Mr. Petrelli, it has been four months now. I'm sure you are as eager to speak to us as we are to speak with you. I know Dr. Baker hasn't been very forthcoming with information as to your whereabouts or any other details, but he has been ordered to keep silent. First things first though, would you please tell us what abilities you are know to have?"

Point Zero mumbled something unintelligible. Baker frowned. Petrelli? They gave him the exploding man without informing him of it? They put him in danger, not to mention all his research in this facility.

Adam spoke again. "I'll tell you what we know, then, and you can just fill in the blanks. We know that you have a healing factor, you can turn invisible, fly, and have demonstrated very skill telekinesis skills. This, on top of all the abilities you received from your encounters with Sylar and from the people at Kirby Plaza. You are quite the man, Mr. Petrelli."

"What is this thing?" Peter asked. In his mind, Martin could see the subject holding up the rather heavy bracelet and smiled. Few would know its secrets, and he doubted if they shared that information with Adam.

"It's a security device, Mr. Petrelli," Munroe said. "It allows us to examine you without fear. It keeps all of you abilities at bay, holding them in, if need be. It was designed from study of another talented individual named Jonathan. Should you somehow get past the power negation, needles will inject you with very potent serum that will destroy all of your known abilities, except for the one you were born with."

Damn it! Is there nothing Martin can keep from Adam, or is all for his taking? He threw the headphones onto the desk, called Julie back in, and stormed out of the hallway, missing the rest of interrogation. Julie, whose job it was to listen in, put the headphones on and started taking notes.

"Mr. Petrelli," Adam said, "Do you know a Hiro Nakamura?" The response must have been less then required for Adam's attention, because he exited the room after that.

Eyeing Julie and her headphones, she responded with a smile. "It's all checks and balances, Mr. Munroe. I have to make a report to a higher authority than you."

Smokey

Club Mutant

He couldn't believe it: Claire Bennet, out in the real world, waiting in line to get into a club for people like them. It was weird seeing her beyond the boundaries set up by his job. He felt his heart thump a little faster than usual before he regained his composure.

Smokey stood off to the side, watching her wait. She was intrinsically lovely; he had to admit it, even if it was only to himself. As she made it to the front of the line, he watched the bouncer refuse to admit her. The bouncer was a massive man named Bruce who had his own little gift, though he'd never admit what it was to anyone.

Moving up the line to the front, Smokey made a decision, one that would probably get him fired by Noah. "Hey, Bruce! She's with me!" Both the bounce and Claire looked to see who was making such a claim.

The bouncer frowned. "Smokey, it's good to see you back, but she's a minor. I can't let her in."

"I'll take responsibility for it, okay?" Smokey said, hooking his arm around Claire's and trying to ignore the look of joy on her face. "It's her first time interacting with this many talented people, and really like it not to end like this." He pulled her away from Bruce and into the dark, smoke filled club Mutant.