Don't Mess with the Chief!

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   Macy was in awe. The dark man with angelic wings. The top floor of the old museum. Her amazing flight through the night sky. She still felt dreamy. Hazy. She still wasn't convinced she was awake. She stared around her with huge blue eyes and a slack jaw.

"Miss Macy?" Jerome's other-worldly voice broke through her haze. "There is someone here I'd like you to meet."

Macy's eyes darted around the vast room. She hadn't been aware of anyone else arriving. Out of the shadows stepped a woman. Macy smiled and stepped closer to her.

"Hello," she said, holding her hand out. When she got closer and the moonlight revealed the woman's face, she caught her breath. She was beautiful but.... it was her eyes. Macy felt drawn into her green eyes. They were like meadows.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Detective Grey." The woman spoke with a hint of a Jamaican accent and Macy was reminded of Tyrone.

"This is our Oracle, Tya," Jerome introduced. "Your partner has already met her."

"Yes. A very... strange man..." Tya nodded. "There is something different about him."

Macy nodded. "Oh, Jackson's unique, alright. He's a special guy."

"It's... more than that, Detective. Your partner is... well, I don't know what he is, but he's the first normal human that I haven't been able to... see."

"You mean like 'read' his mind?" Macy's eyes were wide with amazement. "C-can you read my mind?" She took a step back.

"I do not pry into the minds of others unless it is necessary. I see everything but there are things that I... choose not to look at."

"Wow. That must have taken some practice."

"Yes. Very much. It is overwhelming at first, for someone like me. Once the gift is unlocked, everything around you comes pouring through. I had to run away to a remote place outside of my home village. I had to stay there until I learned to filter it. It would have made me go insane otherwise."

"So, you are saying that Jackson's a blank to your third eye?"

"Yes. It was as though... as though there was something blocking me. I am also able to somewhat gain control over a person who looks me in the eye, directly. That did not work on him. He was completely unaffected by it. Fortunately it wasn't necessary. It did surprise me, though."

"Well. I think we'd better find out what's going on, then. He's in trouble."

"Yes. I am aware."

There was a commotion and two other people entered the huge room. Macy wasn't sure how they had arrived. It didn't seem like either of them used the door.

A sexy blonde approached the small group. She was twirling a rope and dressed in a cheerleader's outfit. She grinned and tugged a mask from her face, placing her hand on her hip. "Well, if it isn’t the chickie who'd like to arrest us all! I'm..."

"Knottalia Ripcord. I know," Macy interrupted her, holding a hand out to her. "I've heard of your skills, Miss Ripcord. That isn't your real name, is it honey? I'm Macy Grey."

Knottalia threw her head back and laughed. She took Macy's hand and shook it. Her's was warm and her grip firm. She seemed very much like a southern girl to Macy. She was probably legitimately from Texas. Macy felt grateful she had never had to face Knottalia while in her own Texas guise.

"No. It isn't my real name. You can actually just call me Nat. Short for Natalie. Nice to finally meet you, Detective!" Nat had warm, brown eyes the color of honey. It matched her golden blonde hair beautifully. She was a bit tomboy-ish Macy noticed, in spite of the sexy get-up.

She turned to the other newcomer who had just walked up and joined the group. "Hello," she said, smiling up at a handsome man with shockingly white hair that contrasted his youthful face and lean, muscular frame. She held a hand out to him. "I'm Macy Grey."

Jerome waved his hand toward Anthony and introduced him. "Miss Macy, this is Anthony. He's sort of our... leader so to speak. He's the one responsible for organizing us and bringing us all together. He has more knowledge about people with super-human gifts than most of the rest of us."

"Very nice to meet you, Anthony." Macy smiled as the handsome man politely took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Grey. I do hope you left your handcuffs at home." He arched his eyebrow at her and she giggled.

"Stop it, you guys. I honestly have no business arresting any of you, now. As it turns out, I'm one of..."

"You should show them." Macy's eyes shot to Tya, surprised. Then she remembered that the woman could see everything about her. She relaxed and smiled at her.

"Yes. That's a good idea. I'll just show you."

Jerome nodded at her, encouragingly. She raised her hand and closed her eyes. As she fluttered her hand back downward she felt the temperature drop, and when she heard the gasps of the others, she opened her eyes to see the snowflakes drifting around them all. She smiled sadly.

"What I was trying to say, was..."

"You are one of us!" Nat spoke up, her eyes dancing. "Wow! This is awesome! You can make it snow!"

"That isn't all I can do." Macy let out a small sigh. "Let's just say that's the most pleasant aspect."

"Ooh! What else can you do?" The sassy blonde had a devious look on her face. "Can you slide around on ice like that one guy in the comic books?"

"Actually, I don't know. I just know that I can drop temperatures to unbearable levels without it affecting me and I can turn you into a Natalie-shaped ice cube with the wave of my hand. I haven't tested it beyond that. I kind of wish it would just go away. Jackson is going to... well, I don't know how he'll react. He's pretty serious about his job. He agrees... well, he always had agreed that vigilantes were criminals. The people with super-powers are dangerous, in his opinion, and they should be rounded up and placed under some sort of restraint. Locked up. We both agreed about all of that until... well, things have changed a lot in the past week or so."

"Are we sure we want to help this guy out, guys?" Nat let out a throaty laugh as she looked around at her friends. Apparently she didn't take much seriously. It wasn't surprising considering her flashy outfit and ridiculous name. It was clear she didn't even take herself seriously.

"Is this... all of you? I thought there were more." Macy looked around at the small group.

"Oh, no. There are more. There are two who aren't here. They are back at headquarters. We've recently acquired another but she needs some... reconditioning." Anthony smiled as he spoke, but his eyes remained serious. "The other two members of our team are with her. She's quite a handful."

"Natasha!" Macy remembered her missing kidnapper. "You guys have her! You took her because she has powers! Didn't you?"

"I'm afraid she will likely be very powerful once she unlocks them, yes. She has been badly damaged, though, so we will be working with her to undo the harm the best we can."

Macy shuddered. She hadn't liked Natasha from the first moment she had met her. Then the woman orchestrates her abduction and has her strapped, naked and gagged, to a cross in a dark room. For hours. Macy was having a difficult time seeing past all of that.

"She definitely needs a new manicurist." She finally spoke in almost a whisper, looking down at her own nails. "I'd be happy to refer her to mine if you would like.

It was Anthony's turn to laugh. Everyone stared at Macy in surprise. Macy looked back at all of them, her eyes wide and innocent. "She's in desperate need of a new hair stylist and new wardrobe, as well! She dresses atrociously and her makeup! *gasp* Have you people seen the horrid..." She shuddered a little and shook her head.

Everyone stared at her, grinning. She stared back, wondering what was so amusing.

"Enough about 'Elvira'. Are you guys going to help me find out what's going on with Jackson?"

"I think we can help, Miss Grey," Anthony replied. "Fill us in on the details, now that we are all here. Those who could be, that is."

Macy proceeded to tell them everything that had happened back at the station. She told them about his strange behavior before that, too. They listened thoughtfully and when she saw their concerned faces and attentiveness to her plight, she felt for the first time like everything would be okay. She knew these strange people would help her bring Jackson back.

......

The Chief cleared his throat as the man on the other line greeted him pleasantly. He sounded surprised to hear from him. "George Munson, you ol' coot! How ya doin'?

The Chief scowled into the phone. He hated the feds. They were all shallow, soul-less cardboard cutouts. None of them contained any depth or sincerity. They were his least favorite people to have to deal with.

"Cut the nice guy act, Dahms," he growled. "I need some help with something. I'm running into a bit of a snag trying to get some information on one of my detectives. He works for me so I believe I automatically have clearance to see whatever you've got on him over there. Isn't that right?"

"That's usually how it works, George. What is it that you're having a problem with? I'll get it sorted out for you."

"Alright. I'm trying to get into some files in your database. Filed under his name. I'm locked out of some of them and it tells me I don't have proper clearance. That can't be correct, now, can it? Seeing's the boy is in my employ?"

"You are absolutely right, Georgie. What's his name?"

Chief Munson scowled at the phone again. He had a feeling Director Jeffrey Dahms knew exactly who he was referring to. He played along. "Jackson Wolfe. Detective Jackson Wolfe. Been on my team a little over a year. Transferred from Salt Lake."

"Alright. Let's see.... hmmmm... *clickety clack, clickety clack*..... Hmmmmm...... let me.... hmmm...."

The Chief held the phone to his ear waiting to hear what the director had to say. He drummed his fingers on his desk, impatiently. "Take your time, Dahms. I can wait."

"Well, George, it looks like there might be a special case with your detective, here..."

"What the hell does that mean? The law's the law, Dahms, and I have the right to any and all information that you guys collect on any of my guys. No questions asked!" The Chief was sitting forward now, tense.

"Now, now, George. Calm down ol' boy. *clickety clickety clack clack* I'm just seeing... Let me just... *clickety clackety click click clack* There! All fixed. You'll be able to access everything in there now, George! See? I told you I'd take care of ya!"

Chief Munson let out a small sigh of relief. He really didn't feel like going down to the F.B.I. office and destroying the place to get answers. "Alright. Much obliged, Jeff. Talk to ya another time then."

He hung up and went back out to Kimmie's computer. She was just heading in to hand him the papers she had printed out, but he gestured for her to put them on his desk. "Still logged into the F.B.I. files, Kimmie?" he asked as he passed her.

"Haven't touched anything!"

He went over and sat down in front of the monitor. He minimized the window containing the medical records and went back into the folder that had the "classified" files. Except that they were no longer there. The ones that he had been locked out of had disappeared, leaving only the ones he had already seen the contents of.

"Kimmie!" he roared.

She came running over. "What in Heaven’s name, George?"

"There were other files in this folder. I couldn't access them before, but I made a call to the feds to get it fixed. Now they aren't here! What did you do?"

She looked at him, shaking her head. "You called them to get access to files you didn't have clearance to see and they said they'd fix it?"

"Yeah. Isn't that what I just said?"

"George. They deleted the files. Or moved them out of the folder. I didn't touch them. I couldn't have moved them if I wanted to, silly."

If it were possible for steam to come out of the Chief's ears, it would have been. He stood up so fast he knocked some pencils over and papers fluttered to the floor. Kimmie hurried to pick everything up. She was used to his outbursts. He strode back to his office and without even taking a seat, dialed out again.

"Director Jeffrey Dahms, please. It's Chief Munson again. I just spoke to him."

"I'm sorry, sir. The director has left the office."

"What?!"

"He is no longer in the office, sir. Would you like to leave a message for him?"

The Chief slammed the phone down and stared at it as though it had grown a rattler and was hissing at him. They were going to try sending old Chief Munson around in circles, were they? We'll see about that! He thought to himself, grabbing his coat. He started to walk out the door, but stopped just before he opened it. He turned around and went back around his desk. He opened the top drawer and pulled out his gun. He strapped it on and then put his coat back on and grabbed his keys. He was taking no chances. There were things going on that he was sure were not on the up and up. The government was sticking its nose where it didn't belong and the old Chief planned on giving it a good "whack" so it would back off. He had done it before and he had no problem doing it again.

He slammed his office door and locked it. "Kimmie, I'll be back. Call me if anything important comes through."

"Where you going, Chief?" she asked, her brow furrowed with worry.

"Going to raise some hell at the F.B.I. office and then I'm taking these..." He waved the papers she had printed for him at her, "... to a friend of mine to get some answers. I'll be back. If I'm not, crawl up the fed's ass with our full recon team and our heaviest artillery!"

She stared at his retreating back, hoping he wasn't serious.

 Edited.

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