18 hours later, back in the United States

Michael and Lani stepped off the plane and into the terminal. Making their way to the baggage claim, they carried their backpacks with them. Their federal agent status allowed them to keep their compact rifles near them and wear their concealed handguns on their persons. Having signed an agreement to act in place of a United States Marshal, the only stipulation on their weapon possession on the plane was that they would be required to deal with violent disturbances and any attempted hijackings. None of that took place. The flight decided to be boring. Michael did not mind this.

Once they made it to the outside of the building, they got into an armored Tahoe and sat in the back. One of the men in the vehicle immediately shoved a folder into Michael's hand, expecting him to just start reading before so much as a ‘good morning’ could be uttered. Not caring, Michael began reading. Last time I saw her, he thought to himself, she was beyond a supernatural power. Now she’s a clinically insane mortal. He flipped through some paperwork about her commitment to a facility, as well as her recent breakout that left a male staff member castrated.

“Do either of you know anything about this,” Michael asked of the two men in the front seats.

“Not really,” the front passenger answered, “just give you a folder and drive you to the office.”

Michael chuckled. “We’ve got the first half done,” he said somewhat approvingly as if to act like he still had something of a personality. After a few moments, he made his way through the folder and completed the readthrough of the information. He noticed that it was missing a couple of critical pieces. He grabbed his phone and dialed it. Before hitting send on the call, he connected his headset and set it in his ear. Feels like it always has, he noticed, even though he had been rebuilt. Having managed to control his strength output, he was somewhat proud that he hadn’t broken his phones while touching them.

A moment later, Tom’s phone rang in his office. He answered; “It’s good to have you back,” he said quietly, “have you read the file yet?”

“That’s why I’m calling,” Michael responded, “It just tells me that she stabbed some people and ran away. It doesn’t tell me what you want me to do about it.”

Tom chuckled a little bit. “That’s up to you,” he said as he scrolled through some images on the computer in front of him.”

Michael looked back at his folder. “I need to see footage,” he said in an unamused tone. “These half assed report summaries are shit to me.”

Tom chuckled a little bit and looked at his computer. “I think you’ll find this footage to be interesting at best,” he said flatly as he waited for Michael to view the footage.

The other day

Fyre had sat locked in her room, staring down at the floor to avoid people. She thought she could keep the intrusions out by simply not looking at people, but occasionally she would still hear them. She was hating every helpless moment that she could hear people’s thoughts of her. Judgemental thoughts, spiteful thoughts, lewd thoughts, even the nice thoughts began to grate on her nerves. She was getting ever so tired of being forced to know what was on the minds of people around her.

The door opened, behind it was a male orderly with a food tray. He glanced over at Fyre, though he had been given instructions not to make eye contact with her. He hadn’t been warned about why, only that he should be brief and do nothing besides deliver the food and leave quickly. He had caught a glimpse of Fyre and found her to look visually appealing. This was not good for him.

Fyre looked up at the man who had stopped and made prolonged eye contact with her. Though he wasn’t horrible looking, she knew that she would not reciprocate any of the attraction that he was starting to think he had for her. Once she looked into his eyes, the intrusion hit. He could see her holding down a woman by her wrists and licking her neck as she resisted. She could see that woman who looked much like herself, struggling with no success to budge him off of her while he forced himself into her. He could see her shaking her head frantically while he got off in her and expected her to just shut her mouth and be happy for the attention.

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Before Fyre could bring herself to react physically to this horrid intrusion, something about his thoughts pinged out louder than anything else in his mind.

Just like I’ve done before.

She looked deeper, suddenly having taken an interest in that thought. What did you do before? She found something in his head that looked similar to what he had just fantasized about doing to her, but this was no longer a fantasy she was reading. It was a memory!

“You like them small, right?” Fyre asked the man before he could make it the rest of the way out of the room.

The man turned back around and tried to make it out of the room but Fyre wasn’t done with him.

“You like petite girls,” Fyre said loudly with authority in her voice, “less weight to throw around.” I struck the nerve, she thought to herself as she watched him turn around with a confused look on his face.

He walked toward her a few steps and pointed his finger at her face. “You keep your mouth shut,” he said sternly as if scolding a child. He suddenly found himself fumbling on his words, but Fyre knew what he wanted to say.

“Detainee?” Fyre asked, “Prisoner?”

The man stumbled in his thoughts a little more, mainly We’re not allowed to call you that you dumb bitch! But he didn’t have to say it, his mind was screaming it. “You don’t get to talk back to me!”

Fyre’s face scowled as she uttered her next words of defiance. “Fuck you, rapist.” She looked in his eyes to see how he wished he could react had the camera not been on. He keeps a knife under the back of his shirt, he wants to stick it against my neck.

The man backed away from her, not fully understanding how she knew to accuse him of something so awful, even though thoughts of an ex-girlfriend came to mind. His back was towards Fyre as he tried to walk out, but she had other plans.

Springing up from her seat, she immediately found the knife under the back of his shirt, sheathed at an angle inside his waistband. Wrapping her hand around it and removing it quickly, she turned her hand and jammed the knife as hard as she could through his spine, halfway between his shoulders and his tailbone. As he lost the use of his legs and began to have issues with the signal getting to his lungs for him to breathe correctly, she quickly grabbed his mouth and ripped the knife out of his back with a twisting motion. Blood began to pour from the wound as she drove the knife between his ribs just under his armpit. The blade poked a hole in his lung and tore tendons that would have helped him resist what was happening.

Being helpless isn’t fun, is it?

Fyre thought to herself as she pulled the knife out and drove it downward into his neck through his collar bone.

Back to Present Day

Michael closed the laptop once he finished watching the footage. He had questions, the kind he couldn’t ask anyone except for her. He looked over at Lani, knowing full well that she was going to be upset by what he was about to say. “Lani,” he said softly, “stay with John and keep him safe.”

“What are you gonna do with bitch?” Lani asked, sparing no effort to remind Michael just how much she hated her.

“I’m gonna do what I usually do,” Michael replied with a stern tone, “I’m gonna be fluid with the situation and trust you to protect John.” He watched as Lani’s face scowled. Michael took notice of this and glared back. “I know you want her to die,” he said softly, “and that’s probably gonna make the situation worse before we get the option to make it better.”

Lani tried to think of something to say, but she couldn’t. In some way, she knew he was right. Her hatred and bloodlust would have made it impossible for Michael to use his own discretion. “Okay,” she said softly, “what am I protecting John from?”

Michael paused as he opened his pack and made sure that his equipment was where he needed it to be. He had an MPX folded up in his pack, his 1911 inside his waistband. The MPX had the simplest setup with a surefire light and a holographic sight. His belt had several pistol reloads, and in the pack was a chest rig with eight magazines loaded with subsonic ammo.

He grabbed up his pack after closing it and stepped out of the car. He began making his way down the street, somewhere in the general direction of where he figured he could find Fyre. Lani grabbed her phone and dialed John as she put her headset in her ear.

“Hey,” John answered with a slightly emphatic tone, “watcha need?”

“Bossman said to protect you,” Lani said softly into her headset, “could you do me a favor?”

“Sure,” John said.

“I know we’re back to work,” Lani said with a slightly annoyed tone, “but please stay away from bad guys.”