September 7th, 2017

8.29 am, Key West, Florida

“Shit.” Fire says.

Fire is reading a text from Director Nick Jones on Dr. Kabeer Wong’s phone. He is wearing a red and black plaid button shirt with black pants over black boots. His hair has become slightly more red. Dr. Wong is wearing a grey button shirt with black pants and shoes. Both men are in the kitchen having a simple breakfast of tea with bread and jam.

“What is the matter?” Dr. Wong asks.

“The prisoner is gone.” Fire says, “So are all of the forensics.”

“Really?” Dr. Wong asks.

“Right on time.” Spectrum says as he suddenly appears a few feet away holding a backpack.

“Dear heavens.” Dr. Wong says in mild shock, “I am still an old man, you know.”

“My apologies, doc.” Spectrum says with a slight head bow.

“There was an air heist.” Fire says, looking up at Spectrum who is sporting a light blue button shirt over black pants and boots, “The prisoner and everything else is gone.”

“Skull Reich actually attacked a US military aircraft within American airspace?” Spectrum asks.

“The entire cabin was knocked out.” Fire says, “So no one can explain how the heist happened.”

“That is mental.” Spectrum says.

“Perhaps your proposal was not so crazy after all, Azeem.” Dr. Wong says.

“What’s the status on the jet?” Fire asks Spectrum while standing up.

“All green.” Spectrum says, dropping the backpack onto the table, “No bugs. I have already changed the transponder. I also scanned our personal belongings, nothing suspicious.”

Spectrum retrieves a black phone in rugged casing and hands it to Fire. He also gives Fire a wallet and a black plastic bag. Then, he retrieves a laptop with a charger and places it in front of Dr. Wong. Meanwhile, Fire opens the black bag to find 6 stacks of cash. 100 bills of $100 banded together, making $10000 per stack and totalling $60000. Fire takes one stack then returns the bag to Spectrum. Fire then pockets twenty bills and puts the rest on the table.

“This won’t be needed.” Fire says as he looks through the wallet. It was a perfect fake driver’s license with one problem, it had his 63-year-old face as the picture.

“Oh right.” Spectrum says, “We will need new IDs.”

“One yard at a time.” Fire says as he tucks his phone into a pocket.

“What is our itinerary?” Dr. Wong asks, then says, “I want to run routine physicals for the team.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“We could do those before noon.” Fire says, “The President wants a conference call at 1 pm.”

“Hopefully, the couples will be done with all their sexing.” Spectrum says as he zips up the bag.

Dr. Wong and Fire chuckle in response. These men were the only bachelors on the team after all. While Fire and Dr. Wong got to have peace of mind in a shared accommodation, Spectrum was stuck fifth wheeling to two vastly different couples under the same roof.

“I will require time to set up.” Dr. Wong says, “Let’s do the examinations at 10.30 am.”

“Alright. Sinclair is probably waiting.” Fire says, then turns to Spectrum, “Ready when you are.”

“Alright, Chief.” Spectrum says as he grasps Fire’s left shoulder, “Hang on.”

Fire and Spectrum orient themselves in a North East direction. A light surrounds the duo. Then with a flash, both seemingly disappear. Less than a second later, both men are now surrounded by trees. A few feet away, cars drive on a highway.

“Two kilometers.” Spectrum says, “I had intended to get a little closer.”

“This works.” Fire says, examining himself. No obvious damage from moving at light speed.

“Alright.” Spectrum says, letting go of Fire.

“I will contact you when I am done.” Fire says, “Relay the updates to the others.”

“Will do, Chief.” Spectrum says as he quickly retrieves a dark hard clamshell eyeglass case from a side pocket of the rucksack, “And I thought you might like these.”

“Perfect.” Fire says, accepting his glasses case. He opens it, revealing a pair of matte black Oakley Gascan sunglasses. His sunglasses. He puts it on then returns the case to Spectrum.

“That does the trick.” Spectrum says as he examines Fire, “I am off for a breakfast run.”

Spectrum vanishes in a flash. Fire texts Sinclair to his arrival. Then Fire makes his way through the trees to the highway. He strolls casually along the adjacent sidewalk while enjoying the sun. Ten minutes later, Fire is now at the security gate that leads into Naval Air Station Key West. The MP guarding the entrance asks Fire for identification.

“He’s with me.” A man behind the MP, wearing US Marine Corps Officer Service Uniform, says.

The MP salutes and allows Fire through. Brigadier General George Sinclair Beggingson comes into view. He is standing beside a parked Humvee marked MP. The two men nod then enter the vehicle. General Beggingson takes the wheel, turns the key, and drives away.

“Bad news.” Sinclair says, “Whatever was left of the attackers’ confiscated gear was mysteriously destroyed overnight.”

“I’m not surprised.” Fire says, “They pulled off an unexplainable air heist.”

“But how?” Sinclair asks dumbfoundedly.

“They snuck on board, took the prisoner, destroyed evidence, then left silently.” Fire says.

“Wow.” Sinclair asks Fire, “So all of your efforts were for naught?”

“They might have cleaned up.” Fire says, “But, I ultimately consider this bout a draw.”

“I guess so.” Sinclair says.

“We’ve an afternoon check-in with POTUS.” Fire says, “She might authorize a fuller response.”

“Like you’d need permission.” Sinclair says while shaking his hand.

The Humvee hums as it moves. The duo are driving around the base aimlessly. The base seems to have returned to a sense of normalcy yet the air tingles from yesterday’s aftermath.

“Any luck with the security sweeps?” Fire asks as he surveys the surrounding landscape.

“Unfortunately none.” Sinclair says, “There is no footage of how the punks gained access. In any case, MPs from a different deployment will take over tonight.”

“Hmm.” Fire says, “What a way to retire.”

“Indeed.” Sinclair says, “I am staying for Alena’s funeral then I will be available.”

“We are leaving the day after.” Fire says, “But the Doc will head back without us.”

“Those kids.” Sinclair says, then asks, “Permission to escort the doc?”

“Thanks, Sinclair.” Fire says, “The doc would appreciate the company.”

“I am just repaying an old debt.” Sinclair says, “Do not go gentle…”

“...into that good night.” Fire completes.

“Hmm.” Sinclair says, then asks, “When will we meet again?”

“Depends.” Fire says, then asks, “Are you up for reinstatement?”

“What do you mean?” Sinclair asks, as he looks at Fire briefly then returning to the road.

“Skull Reich has upped the stakes.” Fire says, “My team will respond after we get a handle on our powers but my gut says we need more. Facing this faceless foe, we need people we trust.”

“I’m asking for much.” Fire says, “You deserve your rest but I bet you aren’t ready to take it.”

“And big picture.” Fire says, “We need to avoid another War on Terror.”

Sinclair simply listens for it’s not often that Fire actually explains his thoughts. With so many changes and events occurring at once, Fire is trying to stabilize the situation. Typical Fire.

“Also, Matthews is in charge of Area 51.” Fire says, “Hoping you’d replace him.”

“That prick.” Sinclair says, “Alright, you’ve got me.”

“Thank you, Sinclair.” Fire says.

“I can’t let you have all the fun.” Sinclair says, “And I’m not too old. Not yet, anyways.”

“I’ll sell it to POTUS.” Fire says, “Oh, Happy Birthday in advance.”

“One last campaign together.” Sinclair says with a broad smile, “Helluva birthday gift.”