Codename: Kryptonite

Chapter Twenty-two

Agent Mission Log Entry:

There's something wrong with POTUS. No. His health is fine, but I'm beginning to think he has a loose screw or something. And, Sambora? Oh, he's got several loose -- somethings.

But, I do have to admit that it's nice seeing POTUS smile and hearing his laugh. He's always so serious in my time, a smile or a laugh so rare, and even then it has to be pulled out of him. In fact, there are days when only David can get a laugh out of him.

Speaking of Broadway, I haven't met the younger version yet, but I'm looking forward to it.

On her way to the front door of the penthouse, Gabriella pulled the Psychic Image Preceptor (PImP) out of the right front pocket of her jeans and slipped it on her left index finger and turned the dial on the top of the ring. This was one of the things she'd brought back from the future with her. When the device was turned on, it would affect human visual perception. Their eyes would actually see the Sig in her hand, but tell their brain it was something else. The something else would vary from person to person, but she didn't want to cause panic in the streets, and she had no idea at what point in her trip from building to building that she might encounter the assassin.

She was cautious, but moved quickly as she made her way down to the lobby of the building. It was rush hour, so the street was busy and the sidewalks were crowded, but she was able to get to the other building without too much trouble. It couldn't be a coincidence that this was the same building where she'd stayed until being able to make contact with POTUS. Had the assassin been searching her abandoned base camp to see if she'd left anything behind?

Yeah, sorry 'bout your bad luck, Asshole.

She'd swept that apartment clean before she'd left it. Of course, there hadn't been too much in the apartment to begin with, but when she'd left everything had been stuffed back in her go-bag. She'd been careful not to leave anything behind that would've identified her or even indicate she'd been there.

When she'd been staying in this building, she had done the necessary re-con; she knew the floor plan in and out. It was an older building with nothing more than an old freight elevator, the metal gate stood open, an 'Out of order' sign hanging on it, a piece of yellow caution tape across the doorway - just like it had been when she stayed here. With her feet moving double time, she began the long climb up the several flights of stairs, stealthily making her way to the top of the building. At every turn she expected to come face to face with the assassin.

It was only once she reached the door labeled 'Roof Access' that she turned off the PImP, anyone on the roof would now see she was armed and meant business. She took a deep breath, raised her gun, and threw open the door.

Rapidly, her eyes scanned the rooftop, taking in every detail and mentally making note of every trouble spot and possible hiding place with one sweeping gaze.

Slowly and cautiously, she moved from cover to cover as she explored the roof. Nothing. Whoever she'd seen was long gone; all she could do now was look for clues that he may have left behind. There was no way that this was a coincidence; those were much like the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Santa Claus.

She had long outgrown any belief in them.

After covering the rest of the rooftop, Gabriella made her way over to the side of the building that faced Jon's penthouse. She had seen the man running away from this area; if there was anything to find, it would be here. She scoured that area several times before finally noticing the only evidence left behind, the only thing that proved she'd really seen someone and wasn't just tilting at windmills.

Three little divots in the pea-sized gravel of the rooftop in a perfect triangle told her all she needed to know. There had been a tactical tripod set up here for a shooter's rifle.

After long moments spent scouring the small area, then following the path she'd seen the sniper taking back to the center of the roof, she gave up. He'd left nothing else to find. He was good; she'd give him that.

But, she was better.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On the roof of the building next to the one Gabriella searched, carefully hidden, the assassin watched her through the scope of his rifle. He had no trouble believing they'd sent her; of course they would've sent the best, but her being here meant the man who'd hired him no longer had possession of the time machine.

That meant his return home would be tricky. He'd have to have a plan. The device he carried with him would take him back to the year 2029, but it would put him back in the same location that the sphere was located in that time. If it was under heavy guard, that could be a problem, but he had no intention of staying here.

His eyes followed Gabriella's movements on the roof next door. Oh, she was very good.

This could really complicate things.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Richie snickered softly at Jon's invitation to look at the view, but then the frown melted off Jon's face, leaving behind a look of pure panic. "What's wrong, Bro?"

"Fuck, Rich," Jon stood up, "she's going out there to face God-only-knows what." He started toward the door, but Richie grabbed his arm to stop him.

"She said not to leave the apartment," Richie reminded him.

"Son-of-a-mother-fucking-bitch," Jon growled, and turned toward the window.

Again, Richie had to stop him. "She seemed equally adamant about the windows."

Jon's frown darkened as he thrust his fingers through his hair. When he started walking again, Richie didn't stop him; he knew now Jon needed to pace.

"She seems like a competent agent," Richie tried to calm Jon down. "I'm sure she can handle the situation and will be fine."

Jon didn't answer him, he just continued to prowl the room like a caged lion.

After several long minutes of watching his friend stalk from one side of the room to the other, Richie scrambled for something to take Jon's mind off the current situation. "What was her deal with the windows?"

Jon paused in his pacing to shake his head at Richie. One corner of his lips lifted in a smirk. With a negligent little shrug, he plopped back down on the sofa and quickly told Richie about Gabriella finding him at the window and putting a paper target on his chest.

"She didn't,' Richie chuckled.

"Yeah, she did," Jon countered before joining in on the laughter.

The two sofas in the room sat in an 'L', with Richie and Jon occupying the ends of the sofas that almost touched. The laughter causing a release of tension that Jon had desperately needed.

That was when Gabriella walked back into the room.