Smoked Gin

Gin ducked behind a crate as a spray of bullets came his way. He aimed an ice blast toward the bullets’ origin with a wince. He wasn’t in love with the idea of actually hurting the mind-controlled Marines firing at him. Mind-controlled or not, the bullets they fired were real and would kill him if they hit. “Chin up, Gin. You don’t have a choice.” Shocker, the New York team leader, patted his shoulder and sent a bolt of electricity into a Marine running at one of their teammates. “Oh, awesome. The calvary’s here. We can all go home now.” Gin spared a second from his battle with the Marines to look in the direction Shocker indicated. The doors to the warehouse—doors Gin himself had sealed closed with ice to keep the fight contained and away from civilians—had been blasted open. Gin hadn’t noticed in all the chaos. In the smoking wreckage, a handful of shabbily dressed people stood in dramatic poses, backlighting courtesy of ConEdison. “Because we needed this to go even further south today.” Gin focused and created a thick box of ice around a knot of five or six Marines. They wouldn’t be able to shoot their way out of it without endangering each other, and the mind control they were under couldn’t force them to self-harm. At least he wouldn’t have to hurt this clutch of Marines. He knew who the intruders were. They called themselves Alpha Team. They were Alters, like Gin and his team. Unlike Gin and his team, they felt themselves above petty things like laws and accountability. Gin had no way of knowing whose side they were on today. Odds were good they weren’t on anyone’s side. One of the Alpha Team jumped into the mix immediately, sending out sonic waves that left Gin cringing and bits of the ceiling and walls crumbling. His best friend, Mud, immediately clutched at her ears. A few of the Marines dropped their weapons. The others just gritted their teeth, ears bleeding, and kept firing. “Jesus Christ.” Gin took out a pair of earplugs from one of the inner pockets of his suit jacket and concentrated on making another ice box. “You got eyes on Heartstring?” Shocker scoffed. “No one’s ever got eyes on Heartstring. Best guess would be over in that little knot of Marines over in the middle.” One of the other Alpha Team members, a guy by the name of Smoke, held out a hand. As he did, the shadows around a clutch of Marines extended, growing arms to restrain them. They fired their weapons as they struggled, unable to see who they were fighting. A stray bullet bounced off Gin’s suit jacket. “I really f*****g hate these guys.” Gin narrowed his eyes and sent a sheet of ice under Alpha Team’s feet. Hopefully it would keep them focused on staying upright and leave the Marines to the grown-ups. “That’s a strong emotion for you.” Shocker raised an eyebrow. “Are you going in against Heartstring or what?” Gin straightened his jacket. “Hell yeah I’m going in. Cover me and hope Amateur Hour doesn’t screw too much up.” Gin considered blanketing the whole floor in ice. It would make it easier to get to his target, but the element of surprise kind of went out the window when he did crap like that. He didn’t like the idea of adding another layer of unpredictability with Alpha Team on site. So he ran. His official uniform might look like a normal businessman’s suit, but it was as armored as any other super-suit. The only difference was in the helmet, as in Gin didn’t wear one. Most of the time it worked out, and Gin was able to move quietly within the civilian population. The only time it felt like something he might want to reconsider were times like this, when he was trying to sneak through a scene filled with a hail of bullets. He made it to the next possible cover position, behind a giant cement column. He didn’t feel exactly comfortable standing in the shadow of this thing, especially not with Sound Machine being so reckless with the structural integrity of this thing, but he wasn’t planning to hang around. “Sorry, Ice Man. I can’t let you go up against Heartstring. He’s mine.” Smoke popped out of the shadows beside Gin. Strong, oddly solid arms made of shadow grabbed Gin to hold him in place. Gin eyed Smoke and froze him to the ground with a thought. He’d get frostbite if Gin didn’t let him go soon. “Awfully possessive.” He winked. “Sadly, he’s broken eighteen different laws just today alone and we’re going to have to take him in. I’ll be happy to make sure you two lovebirds get to share a cell though.” The shadows holding Gin in place gripped him even tighter. He’d have bruises later. Smoke’s lip curled. “Gross. But Heartstring’s not going to spend any time in a cell. The fact you think you’ve got a cell that can hold him, or that you can put him on trial when his whole power involves mind control, is just adorable. It’s unsafe, but it’s adorable.” Gin caught movement out of the corner of his eye and barely had time to blast the Marine attacking him. The man fell to the ground, bleeding. “Every second we stand here arguing is more time these men are in danger. You get that, right?” “They’re not exactly civilians.” Smoke waved a hand, and a cloud of thick black smoke engulfed a group of ten Marines. Their guns fell silent, but there were plenty of others to pick up the slack. “It’s a war, Ice Man.” “You do know that’s not my name.” Gin had no idea why it mattered. He wasn’t here to make friends with Smoke. Smoke might be attractive, but he also had a long list of crimes to answer for himself. “Look. We’re not here for you today and Heartstring isn’t someone you can go up against. Just run along home and we can fight it out another day.” Smoke scoffed. “Are you asking me out on a date, Ice Man? Because you totally need to work on your technique.” He smirked then. “Of course, thanks to Quake, that wasn’t exactly news.” Smoke’s mention of Gin’s ex rankled, but he wasn’t going to show it. Gin wasn’t exactly surprised by Quake’s big mouth or sour grapes. “A date in court, maybe.” The shadows bruising his arms might keep him from running, but they weren’t restraining his hands at all. He reached for the flashlight on his belt. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t need to do much. Light banished shadow, after all. He shone the light directly into the shadows holding him and fled while he had the chance. He wasn’t going to waste his time arguing with Smoke, even if he was attractive. Gin wasn’t the kind of guy to let a handsome face distract him anyway. He had a job to do, and as far as he knew he was the only person who could do it. The problem, of course, was that he couldn’t stick to the shadows. Avoiding Smoke’s secondary power meant he had to run across bright, open floor. He generated an ice helmet around his head, which would make his hair look terrible but that wasn’t important right now. The rest of him would be protected by his suit. He ran as fast as he could. The suits reacted to bullets, and they stopped most of them. Gin was grateful for the protection the dynamic armor provided, but they didn’t provide invulnerability. He felt every bullet that slammed into him with the same force as a good, strong punch. The only thing keeping him on his feet was his desperation to get to Heartstring and prevent more Marine deaths. He didn’t look back, not once. If he had, he’d probably have seen the wall of flame coming. That wall knocked him onto the concrete floor. It brought with it not only the unknown Alpha Team fool who’d sent the fire (and seriously, since when did Alpha Team have a pyro?) but also Smoke. Because of course Smoke still had to get in Gin’s way. The pyro, a short white guy with big ears, let out a blast of pure fire directly into Gin’s face. The helmet protected him, but only until it melted away. Fortunately for Gin, his reflexes were enough. He wrapped one leg around the pyro’s ankle and slammed his boot into the pyro’s knee. The pyro must not have been expecting such a mundane attack, because he fell backwards with a shout and hit his head on the concrete. Gin didn’t rest on his laurels. He jumped to his feet and punched Smoke square in the nose. Smoke was ready for him. He pulled a knife from his belt. “I don’t have time to be nice to you today, Ice Man. I’m here to take out Heartstring by any means necessary.” He lunged in to stab at Gin’s side. A Marine joined in the fight. “You’ll never take Heartstring down! He’s saving lives!” He swung the butt of his weapon toward Smoke’s head and then shot Gin at point-blank. The bullet didn’t pierce his suit, but the impact knocked Gin back onto the ground. He didn’t need an X-ray to know he had broken ribs. That was going to suck. He’d be grounded for weeks. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to sit up, eyes blinking. Smoke, actual smoke, lined the warehouse ceiling. This wasn’t good at all, especially since Gin’s enemy was still lying on his back too dazed to be causing it himself. The Marine who’d shot him snarled and raised his weapon. Gin narrowed his eyes and focused on the gun. The chances that these Marines, stationed in Virginia, had somehow prepped for arctic temperatures was minimal at best. The Marine’s face when the gun froze was absolutely worth it. Gin rose to his feet and ignored the coppery taste in his mouth. He took the Marine’s gun and bashed him in the face with the butt of the now-useless weapon. The guy went down like a log. None of the other Marines were paying any attention. They had all gathered around a wooden box, set up on its side. Gin swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and grabbed his communicator. “Um, Shocker?” Shocker didn’t need to be told. Gin heard a brief burst of static as his commander let out a quick order. “Transit, get everyone out now!” The world stretched and shimmered. Gin was used to it by now, although he hated when Transit teleported them. The one thing different about this occasion, as opposed to others, was the thing grabbing onto his miserably aching chest and holding tight. He coughed, spurting blood, as the teleportation effect took hold. The next thing he knew he was falling, and then landing with an audible thump. He bit his lip to hold back the shout of pain that came with landing on broken ribs. All he could see were pine trees and snow. He closed his eyes for a moment. He was fine. The air was cold, clean, and fresh. The forest was as silent as a place could be—a forest in winter, ice and snow buffeting all sound. His ribs burned with pain, but they would heal eventually. He probably had a lung contusion too—he’d tasted blood, he knew how these things worked. He’d been around the block a few times. It wasn’t great, but he could lie here for a few days until he got enough strength to use his powers. And he could enjoy the silence. “Oh, f**k. I am literally freezing my balls off over here.” Snow crunched, and Gin cringed inside. He recognized Smoke’s voice. Out here, in the otherwise pristine silence, Gin couldn’t hide from how sexy Smoke’s slight rasp was. “Where the f**k am I? And why am I here with you?” Gin heard footsteps, and then a shadow fell over him. He forced himself to open his eyes. Yes, there in all his glory was Smoke. He took a deep breath, which he lost immediately in a fit of coughing. Right—lung and chest injuries didn’t mesh well with deep breaths. “Did anyone else make the trip with us?” “What trip? Did you kidnap me?” Gin closed his eyes again. It was stupid, closing his eyes around an enemy. If Smoke wanted to kill him, at this point there was very little Gin could do about it either way. “Does it look like I had much control over the situation?” He sighed. “We have a team member. Her name is Transit. In an emergency—say, when a bunch of mind-controlled Marines are about to bring down a building—she can teleport people out of harm’s way. Most of the time she teleports one or two people at a time. The more she tries to move at once, the more erratic her powers get.” “So you have no idea where we are.” Smoke crouched down and got closer. “Awesome.” “You’d rather take your chances with the bomb?” “At least it would be a quick death.” Smoke rubbed his hands over his arms. Gin winced. “Right. Let’s figure out what we can do about that for you.” “You’re going to help me? Don’t you want me executed for treason or some s**t?” Gin forced himself to roll over. It was a miserable process. “Reckless endangerment isn’t treason, Smoke. And it’s not a capital offense, either. Let’s see what we can do about shelter.”