BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

The bullets cut fast through their air and whizzed left and right before they collided with any hard surface strong enough to stop them. At the corner of a business strip, several cop cars were parked outside as bullets rained down on them from the apartment buildings below. Cracks appeared in the streets, trash was strewn about and police officers were crouched low and tried desperately to not be in view of any of the gunmen up above. The sun beat down hard in the sky above them and caused perspiration to roll in streams down their faces and drip onto the pavement below. The heat from the sun was enough to cause an almost disorienting affect as they looked out past the blacktop surface of the street. So far nobody had been killed but the criminals had stated that they had hostages and were killed to dispatch them unless all their demands were met.

Ducked behind another of the squad cars was an older, grizzly looking detective, dressed down to just his blue buttoned up shirt, black slacks and a bulletproof, Kevlar vest. Handgun down, Jorge Cervantes of the MRC sighed as he risked a glance up to toward the building.

“Why am I here?” he muttered to himself.

It was a valid question. Yes this was a hostage situation and the more the merrier, but Jorge’s department was the MRC, Mutant Related Crimes. He dealt with dangerous mutants, the criminal and innocent ones, so why was he here getting a shower of bullets rained down on him? Then, as he glanced over his shoulder and looked up at one of the firing windows, he realized why it was that he was here. From his vantage point he could see what looked like a large man, with fists the size of a big trashcan, obviously his mutation.

The man was in a file on his first day at the MRC. No name, but he was a mutant who was trying to rally up a lot of the gang members under his bidding. Started with petty crimes, all of which his miniscule goons had gotten captured for. Unfortunately this ring leader was too slippery for them to catch. Surprisingly enough a man with extra large, powerful hands could slip easily into the shadows.

Jorge sighed as he saw the man he nick-named “Mittens” hold a civilian out of an open window. “No, no no…”

“We want a van, full tank of gas, and at least 4 million in unmarked bills in the trunk so we can make our getaway in thirty minutes!" Mitten's screamed. "Anyone tries to stop us, I’m squeezing this person until she pops like a grape!!”

Jorge watched helplessly as the woman was pulled back into the window, after which, another wave of gun fire rained down, one dangerously pinged off the roof of the squad car.

“Dammit,” he muttered, “we need to get in there…”

As he stated this, he looked over the side of his car and noted the hostage negotiator on a phone. The man was trying to arrange a deal for more time or less demands or a hostage trade. It was obvious that the cops here were desperate. SWAT team was still 45 minutes away, and they were quickly running out of time.

It had started off a fairly normal day. It could have even been called good. Andrew had left the mansion this morning for classes. Those had gone pretty well. Nothing to complain about at least. He had had some time to wander about before his last class of the day. Eventually he'd end up in a convenience store at the end of a row of businesses. All Andrew had wanted was a snack. A bag of chips or something to tide him over until he got back to the mansion and could have dinner.

He hadn't paid much attention to the other two shoppers in the place or to the clerk as he wandered the aisles trying to come to a decision. He hadn't even immediately noticed the men as they rushed in. One of the other shoppers had screamed though and Andrew turned around to see a group of men with guns pointed right at them. Leading them was some guy with huge freaking hands. Not the sort of large hands that you might have as a normal human but hands that were an obvious mutation.

Andrew's hands had immediately shot into the air. No way was he going to play hero. They had guns for pity's sake! It had started out as a simple robbery. Someone outside must have noticed the gunmen and called the cops though. They got there before the group could get the cash together. The gang had herded himself, the other two shoppers, and the clerk up into the apartments above and it became a hostage situation. The apartment they decided to use as a base had been occupied by a woman. She'd been taken hostage too.

He didn't remember when the first bullet had been fired or when huge hands had taken the woman whose apartment use as an example for the police below. All Andrew knew was that there were two hundred seventy two blue dots in the section of wallpaper he was staring at while he and the other hostages were held at gun point by two members of the gang. The rest were up with the boss shooting at the police or out in the hall.

The police called on a Saturday. That meant on duty X-men from teh mansion got sent to handle whatever situation had cropped up: in this instance a hostage situation. Sam could think of no better team than Trainer Kealey and her Ghostly.

They had to blend in so uniforms were out. Street clothes to Kealey meant jeans and a green 7-up tee shirt. Ghost hated soda. The bubbles always tasted stale and gross. But normal people liked it. And if they were being normal people... it seemed to make sense on some level.

"I told you that you wouldn't like it." The whisper didn't travel far from the trickling puddle of smoke that was easing up the side of the building. Once at the scene, they had assessed the situation and decided to go in. They weren't helping anything. Ghost had gone incorporeal and taken Kealey Quinn with her. Then she directed their insubstantial bodies up, up, through a window, down some stairs...

"I'm going to drop you off here."

Things were tense among the captives. Ghost had heard a woman shriek and some shouted demands, but the details were lost to her in this form especially since that was outside of Ghost's visual range. Near what Ghost imagined to be a nice, young man she let go of Kealey. As soon as contact was severed the girl would simply appear. One more hostage than there was before. Would the bad guys notice? The hostages probably would.

Ghost kept her incorporeal state, but swirled herself down behind Kealey for now. It was best to lay low. Have Kealey's eyes take in the details and she could help direct Ghost on where she would best be used.

Saturdays were supposed to be for relaxing and quality time. The problems with that started to arise when people had ridiculously crazy schedules, and bad guys insisted on taking convenience stores full of people hostage. The X-Men were spread a little thin this morning, Shin was doing one of the million things that occupied his time, and the others were too. That had left one trainee and one official team member to answer the call when the MRC called for backup during the crime.

Kealey had been thrilled, not only was she going to get to help people instead of lazing about and doing nothing…she’d get to wear her uniform! It would be the official reveal! Well, in public anyway.

It wasn’t to be, though, and the blond found herself slightly disillusioned as far as the glamour and excitement of a police scene was concerned a short time later. Ghost had begrudgingly worn the t-shirt and jeans Kealey had picked out when they’d heard they’d be working under cover. They needed to blend in though, and these poor people had simply been going about their Saturday business.

Kealey had picked something simple for herself too, and hoped that it would be enough to blend in once they were inside.

If she made it inside.

Being “ghosted’ made Kealey grateful for her powers, and she said a couple of silent Hail Mary’s that she’d make it up the side of that building with her lucky charms still inside her stomach. It wouldn’t do to be a complete walking stereotype and lose them, after all. Besides, that wouldn’t be very X-Man like…she took shallow breaths…if a “ghost” could breathe at all, and concentrated on their steady ascent up the side of the building.

The plan was simple. One more hostage probably wouldn’t be noticed, especially if the bad guys thought there was no way for anyone else to get in. Kealey would be the eyes for a while, then they’d go from there. Simple enough.

But Kealey was nervous. This was real…there were peoples’ lives on the line, and one of them was currently dangling out a second story window.

”Ghost..if he drops that woman…make sure you get to her before she hits the ground…no matter what.” Kealey said, even though she figured it didn’t really need said.

Then, they were inside.

Kealey looked around and counted out the hostages. They were terrified, absolutely terrified. For a moment, Kealey was too and a terrible tendril of self-doubt worked its way up inside of her. She battered it down and worked quickly to compartmentalize everything she was feeling.

First…the hostages were calmed. That helped significantly….even if it would eventually take a toll on Kealey’s energy stores.

Next…she needed to do some preventative work. They were calm…but they’d sure be surprised when she popped out of nowhere.

It happened…and they were surprised…but Kealey tamped it down with the fear before even a gasp could escape them. If the captors noticed the new blond, or the cessation of tears from their scared prisoners, none of them acted like it.

Kealey turned to the young man that Ghost had dropped her beside and had to suppress her own gasp of shock and mild horror as she realized she recognized him.

”Andrew” she said, eyes widening significantly….she shook it off. Explanations could come later.

”We’re here to help. “ she explained in a hushed and rushed whisper. ”You’re going to feel funny…like you can’t really feel much of anything but calm. That’s just me keeping things under control so nobody does anything rash. Just stay quiet and listen.”

She took in the scene, relaying information back to Ghost in a whisper that nobody else would have been able to hear if they tried. The bad guys hauled the woman back in the window and Kealey took care of her emotions. Then they started shooting. This was bad.

”Ghost, can you start taking them out one at a time?”

Mittens, the large handed mutant growled as he glared out the window and saw that none of his demands were ready. In anger he tossed the woman aside he had just shown all the cops outside. He was indeed a sight to behind. Tall at 5’11, he seemed more of the scrawny individual, with pale skin and a shaved head. But both his arms were muscular but having to lift up his overly large and strong hands. Though he did look comical, when he was angry, he was no one you really wanted to mess with. Time was ticking down and he needed to get out of there with his boys before the SWAT team showed up. He was strong, but he was not sure he was strong enough to take that many of them out. Besides, he could see that the MRC was there and that was going to cause problems. He has had run ins with those types before and this was a time he did not want to risk a tangle with them. Still they were quickly running out of options. So far they had hostages and the building secure but that was the most of their good fortune. There was no way out of the building, at least not yet.

“Boss?” one of the goons muttered as he glanced out from his spot near one of the windows. “What if they don’t pay up?”

“They will,” Mittens said confidently as he turned to glance at all the hostages. “Otherwise I start peeling the skin off them like grapes.”

As Mitten’s said this, a pigeon landed on the window sill and cooed thoughtfully as she strutted back and forth. The mutant eyed the bird with anger before he suddenly snatched it up in his massive hand. Nobody could see the bird, but they knew it was there by the panicked calls it made. Then, before anyone knew it, Mitten’s closed his hand and crushed the bird completely. When he opened his hand again, all that was left was a congealed mass of blood, feathers and jellied bones. He let the heap drop to the ground and pointed his bloodied hand at every one of the hostages.

“Anyone tries anything funny, I’m doing the same to your heads!!”

***

“X-Men have been called and responded? Good, what is their eta?” Jorge asked into the radio as he glanced once more over the top of the squad car and noted that the guards were all still at their posts. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Jorge shook his head and tossed his radio into the back seat of the car in frustration. He knew that somehow they were going to have to make a move but they were too well pinned down. Mittens knew what he was doing. He was trying to force their hand. He held all the cards here. He had hostages and Jorge knew that the second the mutant felt pushed into a corner, he would start killing them. It was obvious from past reports and photos that he had no problem with taking a life.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” He said to himself as he kept his gun at the ready.

The second Mittens saw any sign of SWAT he would panic, and a panicked criminal is never good news for the hostages.

It was then that another barrage of gunfire assaulted the officers down before, pelted the concrete and smashed up car windows. Too many officers must have stuck their heads up at the same time. Their presence here was making the all the hostage takers nervous. They had the firepower to decimate them, but they obviously had jumpy dispositions. Mittens must have been snatching up new members for his crew from everywhere, but it was obvious that they were one hundred percent knowledgeable with what they were doing.

Jorge knelt there, completely at a lose as to what to do.

What sort of last words should Andrew say. They were going to die here obviously. The second the police made a move the hostages would all be shot dead and the gang would run. Since hostages included him Andrew wanted to have an awesome set of last words ready. Sadly he just couldn't think of anything that didn't sound stupid. Being held at gunpoint didn't do much for your thinking. Sure you thought fast but fast didn't always mean good.

Andrew was just starting to name those two hundred and seventy two blue dots on the wallpaper when something happened that really should have shocked him. He was surprised for all of a couple seconds before suddenly he was calm and completely unsurprised that Kealey had just popped up out of nowhere beside him. Had it been someone else he wouldn't have been so surprised about it, not that he was anymore. Simply the fact that it was Kealey showing up of all people made it odd.

Then she explained why he was feeling so calm despite having been the utter opposite moments ago. So Kealey had used her empathic powers huh? That made sense. Then was she here to help end this mess? That seemed far fetched but she probably had an accomplice about. Kealey couldn't go through walls, at least he was pretty sure she couldn't. Andrew dropped his voice to a whisper so as to not alert the two guys with guns.

"Ok Kealey. If...if there is anything I can do let me know."

Andrew doubted very much that she'd take him up on that. Whoever the person was that had got her here would probably be doing the heavy lifting. Still, the idea of Kealey getting hurt to save him and some other people wasn't appealing at all. If Kealey hadn't been forcing him to remain calm Andrew would be scared stiff at the prospect but he'd do it. Besides, he was getting sick of getting picked on by thugs!

"I could," Ghost conceded with a quiet little whisper, "but I think that would be too obvious. I would have to go solid first in order to spirit someone else away. I think that would attract..." Ghost shut up when she noticed a man stop shooting and glanced over. She pulled the smokey coils of cool air that made up her body closer behind Kealey.

If they found her... if they suspected Kealey... but he went back to aiming and shooting from what Ghost could gather.

"If you can keep the hostages sitting, I could try to siphon the useable air from standing height. That could take out several of them at once. It'll only work for this confined space, though. Those outside or too close to windows won't be affected." If the soft, disembodied voice bothered any of the other hostages, Ghost couldn't tell. Kealey was good at what she did.

These people were organized, trigger happy and dangerous. But Kealey and Ghost were dangerous in their own right too.

Everything was going well. Andrew had listened when Kealey had materialized and he’d even offered his help. Kealey felt arrogant doing it, and not completely justified, but she shook her head sternly.

”Ghost and I have it under control. The best way you can help is by keeping your head down….we’d better be quiet now too. They can’t notice us…”

Just in time. Back came the man with the hands, and even though he dropped the woman he’d been dangling out the window, he picked a new helpless piece of prey to bully. The man was a steaming pile of nasty emotions and it almost turned Kealey’s stomach to pay attention to him. It got worse when he smashed the poor little bird and sent it’s mangled body dripping to the floor.

Kealey’s lip curled slightly, and she narrowed her eyes a little, pushing down the disgust in the rest of the hostages. They all sat, staring at one place or another, nobody reacting. This guy wasn’t going to get any more thrills from reaction.

What Kealey wanted to do was pull her attention from the hostages and try her zombie trick on the bad guys with the guns. The problem was, she couldn’t be sure how fast she would work, and she was already starting to feel a little bit of pressure from the work she’d already done. By the time she could emotionally disable the hostage-takers…they could get shots off.

It was too dangerous.

And Ghost couldn’t ghost them out. The other woman explained and Kealey nodded her head, admonishing herself for her rookie mistake. It was fine though, the more senior member of the X-men had a plan. Sucking the air out of the top part of the building. ”Good call Ghost. I wasn’t thinking…”

A plan started to hatch itself in Kealey’s mind. They’d have to work fast once some of the bad guys started to drop…the others wouldn’t simply stand and let it happen.

The blond nodded to the spot she knew Ghost floated.

”We’ll have to pull the others inside then…unless you think you could blow them out the windows…just let me know what I need to do.” she said, glancing around at the assembled hostages. They were all calm…even eerily serene. Kealey was glad…it helped her emotions stay there too when she should have been a nervous wreck. She and Ghost needed to get a move on though, or one of the thugs was bound to notice something was up.

“Give ‘em hell!!” Mittens screamed as another volley of gunshots erupted from the windows that faced down into the street.

The flash of light, the smell of gun powder, the thundering sounds of bits of metal tearing through the air, all of these filled the small confined space with an effect that made each of the hostages think that it was the end of the world. The sights, sounds and smells assaulted all their senses especially since they were so close to the sources of these. Many of the hostages, though felt oddly calm, still that that creeping surge of fear and panic welling up inside the base of their spines. They needed and wanted to be released but it was obvious that the crazed gunmen were not going to be letting that happen any time soon.

Mittens snarled as he peeked outside the window again and saw that all of the officers had retreated to kneeling behind their squad cars again. Of all the times he wished he wished he had a bazooka.

“Boss?” One of the goons asked.

“What?!” Mittens yelled as he turned and snapped at the man. But before he could hear the man’s question, a sound tore through the air that he did not like. He peeked once more out the window and saw that flash of red and blue in the distance. Back up was coming. “Damn, here’s come the back-up!”

The large handed mutant growled as he stepped away from the window and began to pace. They were going to run out of ammo soon and the back-up, whether they were SWAT team or not, was coming faster than he had anticipated. He needed more time, he needed the hostages to last longer. Those cops out there needed to know he was serious. He then quickly turned to his goons.

“Stay near the hostages and put a gun on each of them!” he yelled. “Everyone…I suggest you hold your breath.”

With that, Mitten’s leaned out the window and reached out with his two massive hands. Aimed down towards them he extended his hands out and screamed out. His muscles tensed as the veins popped out of his arms as he suddenly slammed both his hands together in such a powerful clap that everyone was affected by the shockwave. The whole building shook through its foundations, the sound echoed like the crash of thunder occurring two feet away, and dust rose up and rained down from everywhere in the apartment. Inside every hostage and gunman was nearly blown away by the massive gust of wind his clapping hands stirred up.

Though he looked comical, he meant business.

***

“Now what?” was the last thing Jorge uttered before he saw those two massive hands clap together.

Before he knew it, Jorge felt as if a jet engine exploded right in front of his ears. Jorge screamed loud but he could not hear anything after that initial clap. The shockwave that followed the sound was extremely powerful as it reached down to the cops below. The face of the building began to rip and crack as signs, trash cans , even a cop car or two were pushed back and tumbled over due to the massive thunderclap. Windows shattered, people were thrown off their feet and general chaos ensued as everyone clamored to try and figure out what had happened.

Jorge groaned as he slowly came to his senses and sat up from the hard concrete. His head still swam and he had to open and close his mouth several times before he could pop his ears and begin hearing again. He moaned as he sat up and then noticed a peculiar thing. In front of him was the squad car he had been ducked behind but it looked odd. Instead of on its wheels it was balanced precariously on its side. So precarious that it looked as if it were slowly teetering back and forth.

“Not good,” Jorge growled as he moved to his feet as fast as he could. He ran and leapt out just in time as the car finally toppled over and smashed into the spot where he had just been laying. He then snapped his fingers near his ears a couple times before he finally could hear again.

As he stood, the detective breathed exhaustedly and noted the mass chaos and carnage that occurred before him. Several of the police cars had been overturned just as badly as his and he was sure he could see an officer struggling as the car seemed to be resting on his foot. Around the scene, he noted all the shattered glasses, the bits of debris and the uplifted dirt that hung in the air. Several of the officers seemed to be just as shaken up a he was, but the worst of it happened to those cops who were too close to the clap. Several of those who were not unconscious seemed to be wandering around as blood seeped out of their ears, deafened now for laugh.

A geyser of rage built up in his throat as he watched this unfold. Again he failed to protect everyone as was his job to do. This needed to stop. As he looked up at the windows, he nodded that there was still a mass of dust that clouded up them out. Obvious Mittens had not thought his move would distract more than just the cops below. With their eyes temporarily blinded, Jorge steeled himself up and bolted forward, with no word to the scattered cops.

He slipped across to the building unnoticed and rushed into the convenience store. He walked stealthy through the fallen merchandise and stepped over breakable items. Gun held high, Jorge spied one of Mitten’s goons as he stood guard at the stairwell that went up to the apartment. The man was obviously shaken from Mitten’s move as well so Jorge was quick to take advantage of that. He quickly holstered his gun before he leapt forward, disarmed the man and put him into a quick sleeper hold. After only a couple of seconds of him struggling and the detective applying pressure to the man’s windpipe, the goon collapsed into a heap.

Jorge slowly lowered him as he pulled out his gun once more and made his way towards the staircase.

“Just you and me, Mittens,” Jorge whispered as he began to very slowly and quietly climb.

Andrew heard the boss talking to one of his lackeys. He heard the order for the hostages to each be covered with a gun. Moments later Andrew was staring down a barrel instead of blue dotted wallpaper and any thoughts of arguing, as much as he could in this emotional state, with Kealey about helping went out the window. He was calm but fixated on the black hole of death staring him in the face. Then hell broke loose.

That was what it sounded like. Some angry deity slammed his hammer down not too far away and a clap of sound rolled through the air. The building shook and Andrew was willing to bet any cops outside had just gotten a nasty surprise. He wasn't going to talk now. Even if there wasn't a gun trained on him Andrew wouldn't have been able to hear any reply that he was given. His ears didn't pick up a thing for a minute and then they rang. He was going to die here.

It wasn't fear driving that particular thought. It was just certainty. The boss that ran this group had an insane power. His men had guns on each and every one of the hostages. His body would be found laying beside Kealey's when the gang shot the hostages and ran. Maybe Kealey's partner that had got her in here would get away. He could hope for that much. What a crappy day. Though the upside of it all was that if he did die he wouldn't have to worry about explaining his tardiness to the professor.

In a perfect world, Ghost would be sifting the breathable air out of an air-tight room. As it was this was going to be a haphazard thing. Every time someone breathed, Ghost pulled the most useless molecules upward. Everything else she tried to push downward. It was a molecular dance act that took intense concentration. She was so incredibly focused on her task, that she had no inkling that any shockwave was coming.

Suddenly the room went grey. She felt it resonate in every atom of her insubstantial body. Sound was nothing more than vibrations traveling through the air and, ghosted as she was, she perceived the world through that air. Up was down. Left was right. Any attempt at siphoning out the useable air was lost to a sudden cacophony that was like driving west at sunset. The outlines of shapes still existed, but with severe glare. When she became solid again, she was going to have a serious headache.

Had she shouted? Hadn't everyone except those thugs pre-prepared with ear plugs in?

It took her some time to reorient herself. Her visual perceptions just weren't that great in this form to begin with... but they shouldn't have been so bad that she should have ended up as a roiling pool of smoke in the middle of the ring of hostages and gun men.

A gun man turned at the feeling of her cool body overlapping part of his. His lips moved but in all the chaos and aftershock Ghost couldn't tell what he'd said. Not until more of them were turning inward —away from the hostages— toward her.

If ever there was a time to suck all useable air out of someone it was now. Ghost formed a bubble-like structure of air, invisible to the naked eye, to help seal in the area. It was like the vacuum trick Zephyr had taught her, sans sound proofing and equally fragile. It provided zero protection but it did temporarily separate the immediate area of air from all the rest of the room. No need for a perfect world. She would create her own.

Ghost never tried so hard to pull the oxygen out of a space before. Never been so determined to effectively suffocate more than one person at a time. She wasn't paying a lick of attention to herself and the fact that her body was forming into a humanoid shape. She was entirely focused on the four guards around her that were now all equally gagging. It would take some time. It would be messy. But with her determination, (and provided that no one burst her bubble) in the end they would fall and her ghostly figure would be left drifting between them.

The oxygen she sucked toward herself in true Kirby fashion. Her body naturally desired the purer substance over the rest of the mixture of air anyway.

Andrew was listening, and nodding, and doing all of the things she’d told him, but there was a dark certainty in his emotional signature that worried her. She didn’t have time to dwell though, because sirens started wailing in the distance, and the man with the big hands spoke once more. Each gunman was to get a gun on a hostage and Kealey winced slightly as her assigned thug approached.

The others were doing the same, with varying degrees of annoyance and sadistic pleasure at having a singular target to pick on. Kealey could feel it. If any of them found it strange that there were no reactions to their predatory smiles and malicious grins, Kealey couldn’t tell.

She took a moment away from worrying about everyone else to look at the situation she was now in. She and Andrew were by a wall, and the men approaching looked like they knew what those guns were used for. Kealey’s thug smiled at her, and she glared back with icy blue eyes that made him laugh. She wanted to laugh too. Until the man with the big hands clapped.

Nobody was ready for what happened next, even if they had been warned. The sound and the rush of the air was strong, and Kealey felt the rush of shocked and terrified emotions from the outside of the building. The sound was unmistakable, metal crunching, people yelling…that had been some attack.

Her thug hadn’t been ready for the backlash. He stumbled, tripping, and Kealey moved too late to prevent him from toppling into her half-crouched form.

The momentum carried them back into the wall, and Kealey heard the dull thud as the back of her head met the spotted, wall-papered wall, the thug used her for leverage to stand again.

Bright lights exploded behind her eyes, and Kealey suddenly felt like she was in a wind tunnel. Her vision cleared slightly and wobbly forms moved in slow-motion for a few moments. What had she been doing? Where was she?

She’d completely lost her concentration, and the hold she’d had on the emotions of the hostages. Suddenly all the terror, surprise, frustration, and cold resignation were back, and Kealey was even more confused as she tried to regain her balance, both emotionally and mentally.

Some of the bad guys were scared now too, though, and Kealey’s bleary eyes looked for the source…she honestly hadn’t expected to find it in the form of a partially visible Ghost. In a room full of guns and bad guys.

The realization snapped some of Kealey’s attention back and she immediately set her aching head to the task of singling out all of the bad guys who were outside of Ghost‘s range. It would take too much energy to re-assert the hostages…they’d have to exist in their varying states of fear and panic for the next few minutes.

She tried an old trick, an old trick that had worked well against a certain triangle manipulator and his porygon...and would hopefully work against thugs. Most of the most seemed to be a shocked as anyone by the backlash from the clap, and disoriented. Kealey smiled a little as she pushed herself to her feet and concentrated. Anywhere she found that disorientation, she ramped it up, trying to add to the confusion while ramping down any violent or aggressive feelings. Fully zombification wouldn’t work here, it would be too obvious to the leader…who Kealey hadn’t tried to touch yet.

”Ghost…you’re so Ghostly anymore.” she commented, hoping her partner would hear the hushed voice she spoke in over the rest of the noise.

Mitten’s could already feel the lack of control of the situation. His move had caught everyone off guard but this included more than the cops. Instead it caused the cops, and the hostages, and his lackies behind him to all be thrown off their guard. He did not like the fact that he did not think that part through. Instead all he could think about now was an exit strategy. That thunderclap was only going to disorient them down below for so long. If he and a couple of his boys could get up to the roof with a hostage or two, they could still make a clean getaway. Forget the car and the money for now. They needed out of this tight, confined space.

“Guys! We’re going on the move!” he shouted and spun around to his crew.

It was there that he met complete anarchy.

Mittens could not understand what was going on here. It seemed as if all the hostages had suddenly woken up in a complete state of panic. They were obviously terrified when they were first taken hostage but then, a few minutes ago, they had calmed a considerable amount. They had said and done nothing the whole time the cops down below were being fired at. Now though, everyone seemed to be in utter panic, crying and looking around like cornered, scared animals. But worst of all was his crew. Practically all the members seemed to be going through something strange. At least four of his men had collapsed to the ground and were struggling to catch their breath, hyperventilating or something, and the rest of the men in front of him seemed to be so completely disoriented that they could not keep their own feet. It was as if they had absolutely no idea about anything.

“What’s wrong with you all!?!” Mitten bellowed as he charged forward and grabbed the nearest one. He shook him hard but as he looked over his shoulder, against the wall near a blonde and a dark headed boy, he saw something that made him blink twice. “I-Is that a ghost? W-What the hell’s going on here?!”

He was panicking now and a panicked mutant criminal was a bad thing. The second he saw the ‘ghost’, he did not know what to think or how to react. The closest thing he could think of was that there was a some mutant from the MRC that had done it. Maybe some mind mutant got into his head and made him see strange things. As the thought of that rose in his mind, complete anger filled the whites around his eyes. Suddenly he slammed his oversized fist into a wall, completely punching a hole in it and screamed.

“Get outta my head you freaks!!” he screamed as he tried to blink away the ghostly humanoid image. It was then that he locked eyes with his hostages. “Hell with the crew, I’m getting out of here and one of you is coming with me!”

***

General chaos was all Jorge could hear as he continued to climb up the stairway that seemed to take forever. He needed to get up there but he did not want to make too much noise to alert his presence but with the sounds of panicking and all around confusion, Jorge figured that now was good a time as any. He hurled himself up step after step before he finally turned a corner and saw the entrance way. Standing there was another goon armed with a machine gun. His back was to the entrance and he seemed to looking back and forth in a complete and utter panic, unable to make heads or tails about whatever the commotion was inside of the apartment.

Jorge did not even think out the next move, he only reacted, taking things second by second. As he snuck up the stairs, he held his gun tight before he finally brought the butt of his pistol down HARD on the back of the man’s skull.

“Gah!” The effect was almost immediate as the man suddenly went limp in the stairway. Jorge caught him and set him aside and proceeded into the apartment.

At first he could see nothing but the cloud of dust and cracked walls that were the after effects of Mitten’s sudden clapping. He wandered inside, gun held up and pointed ahead of him as he checked his corners and kept his eyes peels for sudden movements. Most of the noise seemed to be coming from inside the living room, the one place that faced out towards the street where they had been assaulting the officers down below for a good twenty minutes already.

It was then he heard the thundering punch into one of the walls and Jorge charged forward, gun raised to eye level and he stepped closed to the living room.

“Hell with the crew, I’m getting out of here and one of you is coming with me!”

“That cannot be good,” Jorge growled as he ran to the edge of the living room and peeked around the corner.

He was shocked by what he saw. Several of the gunmen seemed on the verge of collapsing as they struggled for air, and the rest seemed to be completely discombobulated. As if someone switched off their motor skills leaving him confused as to what they were doing or what they were supposed to feel like. He noted that that seemed to be all of the gunmen, and the only threat left was the big handed Mittens who seemed to be making a bee line straight for a couple of the hostages.

Unsure of what to do, Jorge then felt that familiar pull in his stomach. The pull of something that told him his ally and secret weapon water was nearby. He glanced over to where he felt the pull and saw the vase of water. It was a big one and luckily one that had not toppled over from the mini earthquake Mittens had caused in the building.

He glanced up to see that Mittens was close to the hostages and quickly waved his hand and summoned the water out from the vase and hurled as powerful a jet he could muster from the water directly at Mittens, striking him hard across the eyes.

“ARRGH!” Mittens roared as he felt the pressured water strike him in his sensitive eyes. He flailed uselessly as he turned away from the source.

“Freeze! NYPD!” Jorge yelled as he walked into the room, gun pointed directly at Mitten’s chest. “Put those Lard Lad doughnut sized hands UP! I won’t warn you again Mittens!”

“What?” Mittens growled as he glanced at the cop through his reddened eyes.”What did you call me?”

“I said, put your hands up! This is your last warning!” Jorge snarled. Some of the water still swirled around his arm as he kept his gun trained on the criminal.

It was then that the next motions were so quick they could scarcely be comprehended of. Mittens swung his hand faster than anyone could expect. One hand reached up and covered his chest and face, just as Jorge released a gunshot. KA-BLAM! But instead of making a kill or disabling the shot, the bullet merely smack and collapsed into the mutant’s large hand. He had protected himself from the bullet and with his free hand, at the same time, had grabbed the nearest hostage he could.

Mittens snarled as he backed up towards the window, and held the dark-haired college kid’s head completely in one hand. The boy’s head disappeared into the shadows of the man’s, threatening to close hand. He held him dangerous as he kept his other hand up to protect him from another gunshot. “Back off now! Or I swear I’ll squeeze his head until it is nothing but gore and dust!!!!”

Andrew could barely keep up with everything as it happened. One moment his emotions had been leashed into serenity by Kealey and then they surged to life as Kealey took a smack to the head that probably broke her concentration but good. His fear at the situation surged back to life along with a fair dose of anger. Sure he was scared but why did this keep happening to him?! Morons with more brawn than brain kept pushing him around and screwing things up for him. At the others hadn't intentionally screwed him over. These would likely kill him if they got the chance.

While Andrew's fear and anger raged some of the gunmen started to act like they couldn't breathe. As the symptoms got worse the outline of a woman appeared in their midst. What the heck? Oh yeah, Kealey probably had a partner. Whoever that was was probably responsible for getting her here in the first place. Andrew was just reminding himself to ask her why she was here as he contemplated trying to steal a gun from the men who were now on the floor. Then the boss of the group came in.

To say that he freaked out would be mild. He roared about leaving the crew behind and made a lunge for the group of hostages. Andrew hauled himself to his feet, shaking with equal parts fear and anger. Lord he'd probably die but he was fed up and wanted someone to know it. He took a step or two forward when the front door of the apartment came open and Andrew froze at the sight it contained. A cop had finally made his way up here. Not just any cop but a mutant who controlled water if the spray that stopped the gang leader in his tracks was any indication.

They exchanged a few sentences. The usual cop and criminal banter. Then a shot was fired and everything went dark before Andrew could process what had happened. He felt himself being dragged backward as Mittens, as the cop had called him, delivered an ultimatum. If they didn't stop he'd squeeze his head until it popped and he meant Andrew. Hadn't this situation been bad enough already without him getting grabbed by some smelly-handed ogre?

Focus. She was utterly focused on her task. The gunmen had mostly passed from fish out of water like gasping to serene stillness before someone burst her bubble and her concentration.

> “Get outta my head you freaks!!” His wild hand gestures had put his thick fingers through her flimsy barrier.

Her head tilted ever so slightly. "I'm not in your head. I'm real." But if he wanted to believe she was dead that was fine too.

> ”Ghost…you’re so Ghostly anymore.”

And it seemed Kealey was okay with that too. Though Ghost's head did tilt even more. She opened her mouth to ask if she'd hit her head, but... things were happening. The big guy rushed forward and right through her, scattering her body every which way. He would even get heebie jeebies from walking through the cooler temperature of her particles, but insubstantial and scattered as she was there wasn't a lot she could do to stop him.

Someone intervened and the big guy paused. Something amorphous jetted out of a container and into big guy's face. Water. Another mutant on their side.

The cloud that was Ghost moved forward as he snatched up a hostage. Things were dire and only getting worse. She settled around his head and tried to think dense thoughts because getting breathed in was not her favorite thing. And in theory keeping the big guy from breathing was just as good.

"If I were in your head... you wouldn't feel this." Icing on the cake? Or too far? She let the words bounce around very softly around the big scary man's ears. He was her focus now. A big man like him would have to breathe a lot to keep up his strength. She tried to constrict herself and stay just this side of incorporeal.