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❛❛𝙄𝙎𝙒𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙊𝙂𝙊𝘿, 𝙄𝙃𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙎𝙀𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙀𝙎. ❜❜
~ ☂︎︎ ~
𝙒𝙀 𝙌𝙐𝙄𝙀𝙏𝙇𝙔 followed a group of men up the stairs. They walked into a secluded room and locked the door. I nodded at Five and we teleported inside. Landing in a closet, we began to listen in on their conversation.
"The president is continuing to make inquiries into Roswell and the other crash sites, gentlemen. And, as you know, we cannot allow him to get his nose into our business. I've confirmed the motorcade will indeed be turning left on Elm Street. We'll have our people in place."
While the man was talking, Five and I were listening intently. The closet was definitely a little small for comfort. We were pushed against each other and struggled to adjust to the small space. Moving around a little bit, Five bumped into something. There was a soft clatter, and the room went silent. Looking carefully, I saw Dad turn his head to the closet we were hiding him.
"Dad?" Five whispered softly. I glared at him as if telling him to shut up. Reginald shushed the rest of the men and walked up to the fireplace. Picking up an iron poker, he came up to us. I saw the stick coming straight at us, but managed to travel us away. We landed in the hallway and both let out a sigh of relief. I felt a presence behind me and immediately knew who it was. We turned around to see one of the Swedes.
"Shit."
He grabbed Five by the collar and slammed him against the wall. He was about to slam Five against the other wall but, he teleported behind him and kicked him. Five grabbed him by the neck and attempted to hold him in a head lock. Not being easily swayed, the Swede flipped him over. He teleported away before the Swede could punch him, and landed behind him again. Five tried to use his powers, but he was out of juice.
"Oh, shit."
I took this moment to cut in. I punched the man and appeared behind him. He came at me but I blasted him back, knocking him down. I drew at his shadow, slowly, and hopefully enough to knock him out. But, he quickly recovered.
"That's new," I muttered. He stood up and I attempted to run at him. Note the word attempt. Of course, I tripped and fell. "I swear to God, I hate these fucking shoes," I muttered, trying to get back up. But, the Swede was already over me and started to punch. Five attempted to help me and managed to distract the man long enough for me to get up.
I hit him a couple more times and tired to draw at his shadow once more, but it seemed I was out of juice too.
You would think two trained fighters could take on this man, but it wasn't as easy as it looked. Especially at our size. He continued to beat both of us. We even got a couple of hits in, but this man did not seem to want to go down.
