Page 56 of Gunpowder

Blair, he’s got my-

“Blair,” Wren said, covering Blair’s hand with his.

Blair blinked himself back to the present. “Sorry. Last time I crossed paths with Phantom at a warehouse, I got shot, so. Yeah.”

“If that happens, I’ll just sew you up again.” Wren returned his hand to the wheel and eased forward now that the motorcycle had vanished around the slight curve that led to the warehouse.

Blair chuckled. He wasn’t happy with their location but it was a comforting reminder that he was with a surgeon. The warehouse came into view, and Wren backed in behind the strip mall, away from any streetlamps but close enough to the warehouse for them to see what was going on under its industrial floodlights. The rider parked their bike and tugged their helmet off. He didn’t look much older than Blair, though he was a lot bigger.

Blair zoomed in as far as he could with his phone and started snapping pictures in rapid succession. He made sure to get every surveillance camera in sight, and switched it to video when the man approached a narrow steel door. He punched something into a keypad that flashed green and then he was going inside. Blair ended the video and took a couple final pictures of the bike.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, attaching all the pictures to a text and sending them to Spencer. The file size of the video was too large so he would have to show him that in person.

Rather than pulling forward, back into view of the warehouse, Wren shifted into reverse and backed down the backside of the strip mall before doing a one-eighty to exit the far end of the parking lot. Blair’s eyes were glued to the rearview mirror until they were off that street, and he checked it constantly until they were out of College Point altogether.

“We did it,” he said, sagging back into the seat. “This is huge, this is what we needed. I’ve gotta meet up with everyone and talk about what we found.”

Wren clicked his tongue. “Don’t go jumping out of the car just yet, you still have to get your motorcycle from my place.”

Blair had no objections to that. He was excited to share this with everyone, but he liked being with Wren. The drive back to Manhattan passed by so quickly that he was almost disappointed, even if knew the sooner he met up with Spencer the better.

He got out of the car and stretched. For possibly the first time ever, he was glad he wasn’t any taller. He couldn’t imagine cramming any more than his meager five and a half feet into the Audi. He gave it an appreciative pat anyway, since they couldn’t have caught up to Phantom’s rider without it.

Wren circled around to lean against the passenger’s side door, and Blair offered him a sheepish grin. “Sorry your pre-graduation party got so crazy.”

“At least it wasn’t boring. Besides, I would rather chase a gangster all over New York than socialize with those idiots again.”

“They’re your idiots,” Blair said, poking him in the chest.

Wren caught his hand and used it to pull him forward. “You’re my idiot.”

Blair let his weight fall into Wren, who was in turn supported by the car at his back, the scuffling of their feet echoing through the parking garage. His legs still felt like jelly from nerves so he tilted his head back and let Wren meet him halfway. He was sure his legs would just give up if he tried to get on his tiptoes.

It would have been easy to part his lips, to tangle his fingers in Wren’s hair, maybe get dragged up to his apartment to revel in more of the pleasures Wren had so recently introduced him to, but he had to get back to the bar. He made himself step back.

“I should go,” he said. He took his keys out and twisted the ring around his finger. “Look, I know you don’t care about the gang and the war and all that, but if I hadn’t been with you tonight we might have never caught that guy. And I definitely don’t think anyone else could have kept up with him. So, thanks.”

Wren huffed. “Go meet with your gang before they start any criminal activities without you.”

“You’re an ass.” He straddled his bike that was parked next to Wren’s car. “Get some sleep, Sunshine.”

Wren waved him off and he started the engine. It was almost deafening in the parking garage. As soon as he was back on the road, he rolled the throttle back and leaned forward. No leisurely rides tonight; he was in a hurry. The wind blew his hair out of his face and whipped his dress shirt up his back.

Blair made record time of getting back to Flushing. He let himself into the bar where Spencer, Julian, Felix and Nolan already waited. Surprisingly, Adam came out of the bathroom and dropped himself on the couch.

“Good to see you up and around,” Blair said, locking the door behind him.

Adam rubbed his chest. “Up is generous and around is an overstatement, but I’m here.”

Spencer’s laptop sat open on the bar and Blair recognized the pictures he had sent over. Julian was sitting on a barstool, clicking through them. “I recognize these cameras. If I’m not mistaken, these are the ones that came out a couple years ago with integrated facial recognition. You can upload images to the corresponding software and anyone who isn’t recognized will trigger an alarm.”

“I’ve got a video of the guy entering something at the panel by the door, if you think you can do anything with it,” Blair said, hopping onto the stool next to him.

Julian passed him the end of the USB cable already attached to the laptop. “I can try.”

Blair’s phone vibrated as it recognized the cable, and Julian transferred the video to the laptop. Julian had obviously come out in a hurry, with none of his usual flair to be found in his faded Milan Fashion Week shirt and sweatpants. Spencer stood on the other side of the bar, watching the laptop screen upside down as Julian zoomed in on the video.

“There’s a lot of different keypads out there so I could be wrong but that panel looks custom built. Computers are Phantom’s thing, it wouldn’t surprise me,” Julian said.

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