seymoure

44.

It is amazing how meditative counting can be. It can push out all the most uncomfortable thoughts. Thoughts like danger and angst. Concern for distant loved ones and fear of what’s just beyond the door can be shoved away.

It also telescopes time. You reach a point where, no matter how many times you have timed your counting to assure its accuracy, you wonder if it can actually only have been 4 minutes since you began counting.

Mickey rose at 9 minutes and moved towards the door.

He listened with his ear to the wood, but could hear no movement or talk that would betray the nearness of anyone.

At 10 minutes he began pulling back the tine of the fork to create a small enough tool to begin the picking of the lock.

He had studied locks and knew the basic lock, of which this door obviously was one, had not changed substantially since the times of ancient Egypt.

If they were not electronic he was sure of his ability, given time, to rotate enough tumblers to open it.

It was even simpler that he had thought.

He turned the knob and peered out into the hall. There was a major muscle guy on one end of the hall, just standing there.

On the other end of the car Sanna leaned against the wall flirting with another bruiser.

Mickey suddenly realized why he had stolen the creamer. It had been in the back of his head, but he hadn’t remembered it. His mind flashed back to the times he had seen Sanna use her power, and, every time she had sent an electrical bolt at someone there had been something else. There was a tiny ring of sparks that circled her eyes. Like a pitcher who dips a shoulder just such a way before he throws a curve ball. Or like a poker player who unconsciously waves a “tell” before the other players, like touching his nose when he is bluffing.

There was going to be a ring of electrical sparks around her eyes the next time she used her power.

Mickey put the salt in his right hand, stuffed the napkin in his pocket, and then took the glob of creamer in his left hand.

He took a couple of deep breaths to get ready.

With his foot he pulled the already open door back, and bounded into the hall.

“Hey,” Came the shout of the guard at the far end of the hall.

Sanna and the other guard jumped into action also.

The first guy reached for Mickey and found salt in his eyes, and reacted violently to that. He then flew across the room and knocked himself out against the door.

Sanna raised her hand as she got close to the boy, and just as she was about to zap him saw him blow something out of his hand.

There was a zap and she saw a flash that blinded her. Her first reaction was to grab the kid and shoot more power into him than she had ever used before.

Mickey watched as the woman blitzed her companion into senselessness. He then realized he had never made her fly before, so he gave her the chance to fly blind. She didn’t get too far, but he couldn’t bring himself to cry.

He reached over to the guard who was the first to fall. In his hand was a rather formidable automatic weapon.

“Think of it as the best noisemaker ever,” Colonel Potter had once said to Hawkeye of a pistol. This would be an even better one the boy thought.

The rifle was lighter than it looked. It was made of a substance that looked like metal, but was much lighter. He doubted he would be able to lift one of these were it made of steel. This hefted much like a toy. He didn’t like to think of what that meant.

He wasn’t going to kill anyone, but he would be most of them would get out of his way. He wasn’t about to start killing people if he could help it, but he wasn’t going to let them kill him either. That fact that these armed guards were present showed him that this was not beyond the realm of possibility in their game plan.

He then reached into the man’s holster and pulled out his service pistol and considered taking it. He then decided, instead, to get rid of it. He didn’t want to become dependant on guns. Other than clearing the scene he didn’t want to use them anymore.

Nobody was cooler than McGyver.

He was dangerous enough with just his brain and his powers.

“Watch out, Mr. Cloud guy,” He said with bravado, but under his breath, “Here comes Mickey McCauley!”