Page 29 of Gunpowder

“Phantom,” Blair muttered without need of confirmation, but getting the boss’ attention was going to be a lost cause for now.

“You’re gonna live with your pain just like he is,” Felix said.

Ace shrieked as Felix’s body coiled. “L-look man, I was just doing what they told me—OH god!”

His scream and the accompanying crunch that followed shattered the tense atmosphere into chaos. The bouncer ran into the cage as Felix walked out, and people were turning away from the grotesque sight of a boy’s kneecap that had just been stomped in with the full brunt of Felix’s weight. More importantly to Blair and Spencer, members of Phantom came pouring out of the woodwork like cockroaches.

Something swung toward Blair, a blur in his peripheral vision. He barely had time to react to keep the wood post from connecting with the side of his head. It didn’t surprise him there were construction materials laying around the dingy basement but damn he was glad the rusted nail sticking out of the end hadn’t made contact. He used the momentum to his advantage, pulling the Phantom lackey toward him and driving an elbow up into his throat.

“Kennedy!”

He spun out from under his assailant’s arm at the sound of Spencer’s voice, raising his hand as soon as he realized the strategist was at the bouncer’s station by the stairs. The Incindious emblem on the grip of his Beretta reflected metallic in the light as it spun toward him, and Blair’s wrist snapped back with the gun’s weight when he caught it. A man the size of a tank went barreling toward Spencer. The strategist dropped him with one hit from the butt of the Victory to the pressure point on the back of his neck before maneuvering deftly through the crowd to press his back to Blair’s.

“We’re outnumbered,” Spencer said.

“They’re outgunned,” Blair replied.

Felix joined them, snapping the magazine into the MAC. “Somebody’s got the kid and they’re making a run for it. I bet they’ll lead us back to Isaac. Spencer, you’re the fastest, you follow them and we’ll thin ‘em out down here, make sure they don’t get in the way.”

A swift glance over the room and Spencer locked on to the figure in all black with a full face motorcycle helmet, making for a service door as quickly as they could while supporting Ace’s weight.

“They’re probably headed for a service elevator, I’m going to take the stairs and cut them off,” Spencer said.

Felix leveled the gun on someone coming toward them. “Do what you gotta do, just don’t fuck up my jacket.”

The Phantom member who rushed them didn’t seem eager to meet the same fate as Ace, as they saw the MAC-10 and hauled ass back the way they came. The previous chaos of the room was nothing compared to it now that guns were involved.

“Behind you,” Felix warned.

Blair had already been saying, “Boss!” as he saw the gleam of gunmetal coming toward Felix.

They reversed their positions in a seamless movement, Blair twisting under Felix’s arm as Felix sighted the gun over Blair’s shoulder. The rapid popping of the MAC met the bang of the Beretta as they took out the person behind each other. Someone screamed at the sound of gunfire. The woman Blair shot was rolling on the ground, blood gushing between her fingers where she held her wounded shoulder, and Blair stepped right over her to make for the exit. The man Felix shot wasn’t moving.

“Boss, as much as I want to stay and pick these guys off, I think I hear sirens,” Blair called out.

Felix nodded. “Let’s split.”

The narrow staircase was already packed with people fighting to get out so they made for the service door that they had seen Ace being carried to. Sure enough, it opened to an old service elevator that looked like it had the potential to be more dangerous than the swarm of law enforcement headed their way, but they got on nevertheless. Felix punched the arrow that had become the cornerstone of a spiderweb.

Blair looked over. Sweat held a few strands of Felix’s hair against his neck, turning them crimson and it left a sheen on his still naked upper body, making the puckered edges of his long healed bullet holes more pronounced in the dingy light of the elevator. Blair raised his eyes to Felix’s face and found him perfectly calm, his breathing perfectly even as though he didn’t just cripple someone, as though they weren’t racing the clock to keep him from going back into handcuffs. Blair turned his gaze back to the elevator doors when they opened with a groan of aging hardware. He didn’t want to look at that unfazed expression anymore, didn’t want to think of what Felix had gone through (or, more unsettling still, what he had done) for this night to seem small in comparison.

“I knew you guys would turn up sooner or later.”

Blair heard the words as soon as the elevator doors opened, and met the guy halfway as he swung. This member of Phantom looked older than most of the ones Blair had seen, but he also seemed to have more fighting experience to match his age. Blair grabbed his arm before he could connect but in the next moment he was wrenched out of the elevator. Blair's face was the first thing to hit the yellowed tile floor. A commotion rose over the ringing in his ears and then the older man landed next to him, knocked out cold.

Felix grabbed the back of Blair’s shirt and hauled him to his feet. The hallway spun at first but once the flickering exit sign stopped rotating around his field of vision, he figured he was alright.

He didn’t complain about Felix being the first one through the door. There was a coppery taste in his mouth and his reflexes still felt a little sluggish. No one was waiting on the other side this time. The sirens were deafening outside of the bar, without the interference of music and cries of panic, and Blair knew it wasn’t just his currently oversensitive hearing when he saw Felix’s jaw tighten.

“Are you good to ride your bike?” Felix asked.

Blair glanced down the alley toward the parking lot. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Get the hell out of here. Spencer went after our best shot for someone who might lead us back to Isaac. We’ll knock Phantom around some more another day.”

Blair’s mouth went dry as they ran for the front of the bar. The cops were way too close for comfort. He wasn’t as worried about getting arrested since he had a clean record and, against the rest of Incindious’ weapons, a relatively clean firearm. Felix, on the other hand. He was the one who had spent five years in Dannemora, who had come out with a haunted look in his eyes and a roughly inked flame on his forearm that would later become Incindious’ insignia. There wasn’t a cop in Queens who wouldn’t love to stand at a podium and be commended for putting Felix Bane back in prison.

“Don’t go back to the bar,” Felix called out as opened his driver’s side door. “We’ll go our own ways and meet back up in the morning, let the dust settle.”

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