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"Stay calm," whispered Sue. "I can handle
this."
The other men crowed around them and looked at the
case.
"Oh, I'm so happy. This has my wallet, and my
check book, and my photographs of my babies. Where did
you find it? No I don't want to know. I'm just so happy.
My babies. My babies!"
The group turned and started to move away. Sue reached
out and grabbed the handle of the case. "Wait,"
she said. "The fun's over, give it back."
The first man feigned terror and held up his hands.
"Is this a hold up? Please don't hurt me."
He laughed.
Sue moved forward so that she was between two of the
men. She tried to pull the case but the man laughed
more. Sue tugged harder, then pretended to lose her
grip. Her right arm shot back sharply and the elbow
landed in the stomach of the man behind her, winding
him badly. He bent forwards and she brought both hands
upward into his face like a volleyball player knocking
him backward in an impressive arc.
She snatched the case from the first man effortlessly
and tossed it to James. Then she vanished. She knew
that the theives would be very disorientated by now.
So she hovered above them, working out the best thing
to do next. She glanced around the park to see if anyone
was watching, and spotted something that gave her an
idea.
She grabbed one of the men by the wrist and rose into
the air, lifting him four feet from the ground and carrying
him to a litter basket fifty yards away. She dropped
him noisily into it. James just stood and watched the
spectacle, but then noticed that the remaining robber
was moving towards him.
"Sue," he called. "I think I need you
back here."
The man advanced menacingly. When he was just feet
from James his left arm suddenly rose into the air and
his body followed that arm. He was overweight, and somehow
reminded James of a stuffed bear that had seem better
days, dragged along by a child. Sue pulled him quickly
backwards to the litter basket and dropped him.
The basket was already occupied by his colleague, so
it was almost full. It was hard to squeeze a second
man in there but, using both feet, she managed. A small
crowd had gathered and James had the presence of mind
to join it, strengthening his cover by asking someone
what had happened.
On the edge of the park, oblivious of the scene behind
him, a cameraman was filming a building. Petey Keene,
the onscreen talent, stood by and watched, bored but
attentive, waiting to speak to camera. He had been sent
to make a report about an event in a chic apartment
building. It was probably a gas explosion, and in any
other neighborhood it would barely merit comment, let
alone a spot on the news. But in this part of town the
rules were different.
He should be reporting from Wall St, or about the city's
new mayor, or about crime, poverty or culture. Instead
he was filming a small trail of black smoke issuing
from a window.
Suddenly strange sounds from the park caught his attention.
Sharp eyesight coupled with a reporter?s instinct told
him turn the cameraman around right away, even before
he'd taken in the scene. He watched with growing awe,
and a suspicion that the day might not be wasted after
all.
He didn't know what to make of flying people but it
wasn't something that you saw every day and it was definitely
much more interesting than an exploding stove. To give
the scene some poignancy he took particular care to
include the solitary businessman, briefcase in hand,
who watched in astonishment. At one point he seemed
to call out to someone. That was a strange thing to
do.
"Come on," he said. "We need some close
ups. Make sure you get a shot when the cops arrive."
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