Liam rose to a half crouch, uncertain if all the shooters were behind the force field or if any had slipped through Glenn’s barrier. He scanned the area, seeing people still running out of the enclosure areas, though some bodies were lying on the ground and slumped in the lower rows. Several horses had escaped their leads and were racing around the track and field in a blind panic. One of the shooters stopped shooting at the grandstand and took aim at a horse instead. Liam watched the horse go down in a spray of red as bullets cut through the animal’s body.
Movement out of the corner of his eye had Liam looking to his right at the man casually walking down the dirt track, peeling the metal railing off the grandstand structure.
“Those bloody metahumans from Victoria Station are on the field. I have eyes on the one with the macro-magnetic power,” Liam said in a low voice, electricity sparking at his fingertips.
“So do I,” Kyle reported. “LOS is good.”
“Bastard can catch bullets,” Abigail warned. “But he can’t catch me.”
“Can you two distract him long enough for me to get a shot?”
“It’s like you read my mind.”
“Nah, we left our telepath Stateside.”
“Bring him in alive,” Chapman ordered.
“Yes, sir,” was Kyle’s crisp response.
“What’s your location, Peregrine?” Liam asked as he stood.
Abigail’s voice echoed over the comms and in the air when she said, “Right here.”
The wind from her speedy arrival hit Liam in the face as the blur Abigail had been solidified in his vision when she came to an abrupt stop beside him on the row of seats. She was in her UMG combat uniform and carried a spare flak jacket in one hand, which she shoved against Liam’s chest.
“Put this on. Samaira said to tell you if you die, she’s going to bloody well murder you.”
Liam pulled it on without taking his eyes off the metahuman on the track, who had yet to spot them, too busy tossing broken-off railing bits like spears at the people fleeing the grandstand. They slammed against an invisible force field, which meant Glenn had eyes on the situation.
“Highlander, we’ll need access to the bastard. We need to give Reaper a chance at shooting him,” Liam said.
“If you want a clear space to fight, I can give it to you. At least this time the bloke doesn’t have a train to throw at us,” Glenn replied.
“He still has all the metal in the nearby vicinity. Sanguine, any luck giving him a heart attack?”
“Our magnetic powers still mostly cancel each other out. I’m working on dropping some of the trigger-happy bastards in the field,” Tariq said.
“Europa, status?”
“Making my way to you, but the crowd is worse than the Underground at rush hour,” Samaira replied.
“Just get here.”
“Understood.”
Abigail jumped from foot to foot, itching to move. “I think he’s spotted us.”
Liam finished sealing down the flak jacket straps, not looking away from their target. “Doesn’t mean he’ll catch us. Make some holes, Highlander.”
“You’ve got a clear path,” Glenn replied seconds later.
“In and out, Peregrine. Don’t let him get ahold of the bits of metal on your uniform.”
“He’s not the first one with magnetic power I’ve fought.” Abigail cracked her knuckles. “Reaper, get ready to shoot.”
“Just stay out of my crosshairs,” Kyle said.
The blowback of wind from Abigail’s departure made Liam squint as he followed in her direction. She was a blur to his eyes that he couldn’t track, and that the other metahuman didn’t see coming. The brutal clothesline she hit him with made the man’s head snap back, body bowing as he was knocked to the ground in a flailing of limbs. The chunks of metal railing cutting through the air in Liam’s direction clattered against the rows of seats in front of him.
