The office of Nadar Realty sat in the corner of a small, single-level business complex set slightly back from the street. It shared its home with a failing nail salon on one side and a chinese takeout restaurant on the other, which may as well have been the agency’s personal catering service for how often they patronized the establishment. The owner of the agency was one Mr. Patrick Nadar, who kept a small but impeccably organized office at the back of the layout, across from the door and through an open floor space lined with a handful of asymmetrically aligned desk spaces for his few employees. His second-in-command in the agency was the lovely if somewhat aging Miss Natasha White, who flicked through a filing cabinet in the corner of Patrick’s office, occasionally pulling files from obtusely numbered manila folders and adding them to the increasingly heavy binder tucked under one arm while Patrick worked to copy files onto a flashdrive before removing them from the agency’s computer system and deleting them off his personal harddrive, a level of paranoia his team had always been curious about but which none had ever approached him to ask about. After all, wasn’t it only appropriate to make the added effort to protect your clients’ confidentiality? Patrick’s hand stopped mid keystroke, his eyes focusing on something before him that wasn’t on his screen. A small smile touched his lips, and he rose calmly from his seat, tucking the flashdrive into the inner pocket of his immaculately tailored steel gray suit. “I think that’ll have to do, Natasha,” he said, gesturing toward the door with one manicured hand in invitation. He stepped briskly out onto the agency’s main floor after her, clearing his throat as he took up position in the doorway of his office. The hushed clamor of voices speaking into phone receivers stopped, the faces of his employees turning to face him as one. “I think that’s enough for today, everyone!” he announced with friendly vigor, clapping his hands together in front of him. “You’ve all been working exceptionally hard lately, and I cannot express enough how much I appreciate each and every one of you. We have the best team in Illinois, I really believe that! Possibly the best in America, or even the world! So I think as a show of my appreciation, we’ll call it here for today and you guys can take the rest of the day off, my treat.” There were murmurs of confusion and hesitation; they had clients on the phone, of course. They couldn’t just leave! Patrick just laughed and waved away all voices of dissent. Almost on cue, Patrick heard the crunch of tires on gravel as a car turned into the parking lot outside. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll understand! And if they don’t, then they’re free to enjoy the good graces of our competitors. With how much trouble those guys will give them, I have no doubt they’ll all be back before long!” He punctuated the claim with another laugh before clapping his hands together once more. “Now, all of you, enjoy your evening, rest up, spend some time with your families, and I’ll see you all again tomorrow morning, okay?” There was another breath of hesitation before Patrick was met with the clatter of phones being hung up and chairs pushed back as his staff started to rise and gather their things. He really did have nothing but appreciation for his team; Patrick understood how rare it was to find such competent, obedient people. “Great,” he said to himself under his breath, before turning to Natasha. “I can trust you to handle things, right Natasha?” he asked, taking the binder from her as soon as she moved to hand it over. “Of course,” she replied, meeting his smile with one of her own before heading for the door. Patrick nodded to himself in satisfaction, then turned on his heel and headed back into the office. He and Natasha had an understanding in place, and he had no doubt in his mind that she would perform admirably. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk to pull two things out at the same time he heard the little bell over the door ring again, this time caused by someone stepping inside. “I’ll be with you in just a moment!” he called, pulling the snow white mask over his head and lacing up the back with practiced fingers. Patrick wished, not for the first time, that he had a mirror in his office; he would have loved to see the mirrored surface of the mask’s face staring back at him, reflecting everything he looked at. He set the binder on the floor by his desk before turning to go greet his guests. It would be a shame not to have physical copies anymore, but he supposed those were the risks he had to accept in this line of work. He leaned back before stepping through the door of his office, letting Erik’s grasping hand sail through empty air. Patrick stepped lightly around the man as he stumbled off-balance from his unexpected miss. Quick footwork sent Patrick spinning around another attempted grab by Mateo, and he thrust his leg out to send the larger man tumbling into one of the desks. “Gentlemen, I must request you keep your hands to yourselves,” he tutted, folding his hands behind his back. “This is leaving such a bad first impression for me.” “What can I say? We’re just too friendly,” Erik quipped back, circling around him as Mateo got back to his feet. “I always liked to think of myself as a hugger.” Then he rushed the realtor, his fist flying toward Patrick’s face and meeting empty air. Patrick’s own fist found painful contact below Erik’s ribs before whirling around him and sending two more strikes into Erik’s back. Patrick ducked under a swing from Mateo, dancing out of reach as the man followed it with a shoulder check and another slug from the left. The pair were trying to pin him between the two of them, using the cluttered space to their advantage, but any time it seemed like they might manage it Patrick would simply duck in close and go under one of their arms, coming out the opposite side. “Oh, you brought another friend with you,” Patrick remarked out of nowhere, weaving around one of Erik’s punches and delivering another of his own into the man’s stomach. “Let’s make room for her, then.” He stepped around Erik, jabbing him in the kidney before kicking at the back of his knee, buckling it out from under him. Patrick grabbed a monitor and yanked it free of its chords, slamming it across the side of Erik’s head. The man went down in a daze, and another kick into the back of his head put him out cold. Mateo snarled in rage, leaping up on top of one of the desks and using it as a launching platform into the air to bring a fist down at Patrick’s head. Patrick danced to the side, then spun into a kick at Mateo’s head in turn as the larger man landed, sending him sprawling. Mateo got back to his feet, shaking the dizziness from his brain as he did so. Patrick had a fleeting thought to keep up the pressure on him, but he had another appointment to keep. He withdrew something inside his jacket from its spot under his arm, beginning to turn to the side as he did so. Right on time, a faint [i]thp[/i] announced the next arrival, synchronizing perfectly with the flex of Patrick’s finger on the trigger. THe crack of a gunshot tore through the small office space, and Bouncer fell out of the air as a bullet ripped through her side, crashing on one of the desks before falling to the floor. It was a grazing blow, too far to the side to hit anything critical. Bouncer bit back the pain, gripping the side of the desk to pull herself back up. Mateo was back in the fight, but he couldn’t land a single hit on the bastard in the reflective mask. The hand with the gun hung at the man’s side, only using his empty left fist to throw hits back at Mateo as he danced around the mobster. Bouncer grit her teeth, squaring her feet beneath her. The guy might’ve gotten lucky once, but he wouldn’t again. There was another faint [i]thp[/i] and then- A second gunshot rang out, a bullet tearing its way through Bouncer’s thigh. She swore loudly as she hit the ground again. “Language!” Patrick scolded. “This is a place of business, madam!” Bouncer grunted in pain as she tried to pull herself back up to her feet. She saw Mateo slump to the ground as another kick caught the side of his head, and a groan from Erik told her that while he might be regaining consciousness, he wasn’t getting back up any time soon. “Son of a [i]bitch![/i] she cursed through clenched teeth as her leg buckled underneath her. Bouncer pressed one hand against the hole in her side, the smell of iron beginning to clog her nostrils. It was joined by a second, acrid stench beneath it, and she slowly realized smoke was beginning to fill the building. “I do apologize for this,” Patrick said, shaking Mateo’s hand off his leg as he returned his pistol to its holster. “Honestly, this really is quite the mess here. I don’t suppose any of you folk could tell me where you got my address from? Leaky lips sink ships, after all!” He laughed softly as he gazed around at the three of them, then sighed and brushed his hair back out of his face. “I honestly can’t think of who it might be, though. The few I had the pleasure of speaking with seemed like discreet sorts.” “Oh!” Patrick clapped his fist against his palm, something occurring to him. “Maybe it was that shifty fellow who thought I didn’t notice him checking out the building. Though honestly, I’d just thought he was planning to rob the place!” He laughed again, shrugging his shoulders as if he’d made some clumsy mistake. The smoke was getting thicker, and Bouncer felt dry heat prickle against her skin. “Oh well,” Patrick continued, stepping over Mateo as he walked toward the door. “A shame about the office, but I was considering a change of scenery anyway. Goodbye everyone, and sorry again!” Then he disappeared through the door. [i]”Shit.”[/i] Bouncer tried to get to her feet again, pulling the rabbit mask off her head. It was getting hard to breathe in here, and the mask was only making it harder. [i]”Oi!”[/i] she shouted, trying to rouse Erik and Mateo back into motion. [i]”We need to-”[/i] she tried limping toward the exit, only to fall again. She could just teleport out, but… Rabbit crawled with one arm and leg toward Erik, dragging her wounded leg behind her and keeping a hand pressed on her side. “Hey.” She grabbed his suit when she reached him, shaking him as best she could to rouse him back to full consciousness. “Hey!” Erik groaned again, but made no effort to move. The air was thick and black above her head, and she could see flames starting to lick through the walls. There was shouting outside, from people evacuating the other businesses in the complex. Rabbit didn’t hear sirens yet. “God damn it!” She looked over at Mateo, where he was trying to get back up, struggling to find any strength as he coughed against the choking black smoke. Rabbit shook Erik one more time, and was rewarded with weak coughing as the man started to shift. “Damn it,” she cursed softly, fighting back coughs of her own. She didn’t have time for this. A faint [i]thp[/i] and she was outside, the gravel of the parking lot digging through her slacks into the leg she sat on. She took quiet gasps of clean air, looking around her at the people gathered outside the burning building. A few noticed her as she appeared out of thin air, an elderly Chinese woman beginning to step toward her after processing her injured state. Rabbit accepted her help, leaning on the woman’s shoulder as she made one more attempt to get back to her feet. “Inside,” Rabbit started, gesturing toward what used to be a realtor agency. “There’s-” She faltered. What was this old woman going to do? Looking around, she couldn’t see anyone who looked capable of hauling two large men out of a burning building. She still couldn’t hear any sirens. She pushed off the Chinese woman, balancing on one leg as she began to hobble back toward the building. There was a [i]thp[/i] and Rabbit was back inside, collapsing immediately as her lungs were assaulted by smoke. She squinted her burning, watery eyes through the miasma, looking for where Erik and Mateo were. She saw Mateo first, where he had tried to crawl toward the door but stopped, too injured and coughing too much to continue. Rabbit crawled toward him, trying to keep her head beneath the smoke so she could breathe easier. She reached her hand out, taking hold of his sleeve before looking back toward the door. A [i]thp[/i] and Rabbit was back outside. She looked down, seeing only the gravel topped parking lot and a strip of tailored silk clutched in her hand. Rabbit threw it aside, then vanished and reappeared back in the burning building. She found herself closer to Erik this time, close enough to wrap her arms around his chest. She gripped him tight, pulling him as closely as she could, then with eyes shut tight against the burning, acrid smoke there was a [i]thp[/i] and she was back in the parking lot, once more holding nothing but scraps of cloth. How long had it been? A few minutes? She still couldn’t hear sirens.