Image: Summer getting ready to rumble (shoulder length hair though)."Aww, didn't Jack and his friend want any lunch?" Halima frowned. 

"No." Syeda answered simply. 

Elyka soon excused herself, suspiciously, significantly quiet, Syeda thought. But she didn't have time to think more about that; time was like a temporary allowance of money, and now more than ever she needed to spend it exactly right. She must swiftly begin her investigation into the Brentgrove street building. 

But throughout her efforts, an ever-present, stinging worry kept trying to move itself from the back of her mind to the front. 

'The boys aren't safe by themselves.' 

Such a foolish thought. Of course it was. She shook it off once again and continued her toil.

----

Frank and Jack whizzed ahead on their motorbike. They reached a traffic light and Jack abruptly put on the brakes to stop (he always found stopping the hardest part; though he hadn't told Frank as he suspected the weak-kneed lad would take it as an excuse to not get on).

Frank groaned; from his experience on the bus, these were the traffic lights that took AGES to get past. 

They were safely stuck for a good ten-fifteen minutes. Flippin' great. 

Frank let Jack know the situation. 

"Hmm, air-travel is permitted in Swindon, amiright?" Jack pondered aloud, eyebrow flicking upwards as he gave Frank a meaningful grin. 

"Yeah, if you have hidden wings, use 'em now." Frank replied, bored. "Or a jetpack." 

"Pffft! Nothing so basic, my man." Jack relayed, an easy, almost smug grin in place. He pressed a few buttons in succession on his control panel near the steering handles. 

Suddenly, Frank felt his stomach jolt and the air begin to whip around him and Jack as they suddenly began to soar upwards, at a breakneck speed. It seemed there were boosters directly under the motorbike that propelled them straight upwards, into what mimicked a speeding, terrifying elevator into the sky. 

"SLO-" Frank's hollering voice was drowned out by the rush of air. 

"What? I can't hear you mate, you're being drowned out by the rush of air!" Jack shouted back. 

"Ugh, tu es asinus! Stultus asinus!" Frank cursed as they rushed upwards impossibly faster. He closed his eyes and wished it all to stop; he was usually fine with heights, but being this high, neighbours to the clouds, scared the living daylights out of him. His stomach felt a sudden eagerness to expel its contents. 'Ugh...' Frank clenched his eyes tighter and gripped his arms around Jack's stomach harder, head burrowing (painfully) into the person in front, until the tightness of his arms slowly made them feel limp. Which scared him even more. 

He was... he was going to let go! 

Meanwhile, Jack had merrily continued the conversation (trying to ignore Frank trying to squeeze the life out of him, in revenge he presumed). 'Does this horror not affect him? Unless... he's used to it.' Frank frantically guessed. 

Jack's words finally became somewhat coherent. "I know latin from school, mate! Some sneaky insults you know, eh?" Jack chuckled. 

Frank's fingers, one by one, littlest all the way to biggest, began to loosen without his consent, the numbness creeping through all of them. 

"Jack... I'm going to let go!" 

"Hey, hold up m'man, I'm slowing down!" 

And with that, the motorbike suddenly slowed. And began to move forward. 

At a moderate pace. 

Frank's fingers did not feel like emergency-ejecting him back to earth anymore. 

Frank smiled, gawking appreciatively at the scene of clouds all around as if it were Michaelangelo's Sistine chapel. Or an honest Brynnish politician. "That's better." He felt a whole load more safe now. It was all done. An unspeakable joy pierced his heart at knowing he might, maybe, come out of this alive. He was in the air and he was acing it. Maybe he could let go with one hand to fish out his phone and take a picture... 

"Frank dude, what you playing at?" Jack laughed. "Don't let go now, I'm just warming up!" 

And the motorbike suddenly zoomed straight ahead, quickly bending and swerving, making a beeline straight for the beeping red target on Jack's motorbike GPS tracker. 

Mouth open and teeth gritted as the furious wind flapped his cheeks, Frank hoped his funeral would be well-attended.

----

The flying motorbike finally reached its target location, whooshing downwards through the air at a steep incline before slowing down, meeting the gravelled earth of a parking lot to park neatly in the allocated area. At the Florent Gardens Hotel. 

Frank hopped off (feeling a bit wobbly and sick, but trying to steel himself; his brother needed him), and focused his eyes to scan the skies above. 

The Florent Gardens Hotel, was, as its name suggested, famous for its vast gardens. The building itself looked like a middle ages cathedral. Considering he lived in a crumbling mockery of an old stone building himself, Frank felt a little at home. Until he remembered his eight year old brother was probably tied to the top of the Hotel's highest tower, 155 feet above ground. Waiting for him any second. 

He hadn't told his parents. It was late evening; Frank's mum was away at work and wouldn't return till around midnight, and his father had of course chipped it as usual away to one of his regular haunts, conveniently away from his family. Frank still understood him as little as ever. And his parents' quarrel the other day, no one had bothered to explain to him, despite his cautious questioning. 

And now, he had to find and bring home his brother before his parents realised he was missing. 

From the tallest spire. 

"Jack can you do a-" 

"Already done it. An analysis of the area has been carried out." Jack responded, his astra removed from his pocket, the thick wand glistening ominously to Frank. 

"Didier isn't tied to the top anymore. He's inside now, in the tallest central tower." 

Frank looked quietly at the Nyfe. As he mused, he abruptly realised something; it had begun to rain lightly. And was looking like it was getting heavier. 

"Did that thing tell you?" Frank asked quietly. He was still hugely wary of the military device (was it spying on him? Who knew what else it was made it to do, and was already doing).

"Slifer found Didier, yeah." Jack smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Slifer's not like the other Nyves in the Brynnish Forces. He serves me only. No one else." Frank grew more impatient the more Jack continued speaking about it. "I had him tweaked when I got him, by an aide in the tech dep where he was ma-" 

"It's not a he, Jack. It's an it." 

Jack shrugged, still smiling. "It's hard for you to understand Frank, you haven't trained with one. Grown up with one. Me and Slifer, we share a bond. Nyves come to know you, more perfectly than any human. They change to suit your personality, your strengths. They..." Jack seemed at a loss for the right words, skimming through his mind for any he could use. 

"It's still not a he. It's a machine Jack. A smart machine, but just a machine. Now let's find my brother." He didn't know why (well he knew exactly why) that thing put him on edge. 'Today is the last day I rely on it.' he thought distastefully. Hopefully he could eventually persuade Jack to let go of it. Soon. 

He'd be better off. 

Jack shrugged. "Suit yourself, buddy." He walked towards the hotel, Frank following him, then at his side. Jack stopped, purposefully, and turned his head to face his companion. "Hey. There's probably going to be confrontation of some sort inside. We don't know how many armed people are waiting for us in there. You're wearing that under armour I gave you, right?" 

Frank nodded. The under armour was one of Jack's. Turns out the guy had two pairs of bullet, laser and knife-proof under armour sets that were made under army regulations, for training and seasoned soldiers. Jack was now very glad he had brought two pairs with him; he had nearly left one because of his backpack's annoyingly minuscule dimensions. 

Frank had asked no questions about where Jack got his stuff, though from the look in his eyes, Jack knew he'd be interrogated once this was over.

------

"See, I told you they'd be here soon, hey?" Angel grinned, arms folded, a sword held in one hand. His morphed Nyfe. He was looking out of the tall window of the five star suite. The highest room in the empty hotel. "They'll make their way up here. Glad I booked this place out now; no one to get in the way. Maybe should we welcome them, hmm?" his eyes flicked to his companion, and back to the window. The light coming through the glass fell on his hazel eyes, rendering them into shimmering gold coins, his warm brown hair shining like a sunset under solar rays. 

Summer rolled her eyes at Angel's remark. 

She'd been trying to persuade Angel against this whole charade for the past twenty three hours since she'd caught wind of his plans, after overhearing his phone call to book out the hotel while they were at Chris's place. She hadn't wanted to get involved, and had thought to tell Chris, but to tell Chris what? She'd not yet known nothing as to what level of haberdashery Angel was upto. 

So she came along, insisting he would benefit from another Nyfe wielder. Though she hated the darn things as much as she was in reluctant awe of them; sure she'd been training with Chris and the others about eight hours a day to use one right, but Seraphina (her tentative name for her weapon) scared her, how she knew nearly all. How she'd guessed Summer's whole, unhappy past without Summer having said a word. She'd guessed right about Summer's parents, what had happened to them. Seraphina's capability had sent a shiver down her spine. 

But at the same time, it gave her a thrill to know such power, such knowledge was under her direct command. To use however she saw fit. 

Chris had told her, alone, to keep an eye on Angel. To get close to him and persuade him she was his ally. Sure, he pretended to hate Summer and find her annoying, but Summer knew Angel's true dislike was something else entirely. 

And so, right now, she'd come along to keep an eye on Angel. and keep him within his limits. Which was fine with her; if there was one thing Summer hated (and unwittingly feared), it was Angel's unpredictability. She had to know what was going on. 

Not that any of it made sense now that she knew; it all seemed so pointless. What would he get out of kidnapping one of his own family? The abducted kid would eventually be retrieved. Angel surely wouldn't keep him. And her child crew couldn't accept kids who already had homes to run back to. 

Speaking of her kids... 

She looked at Bashful and Curly, standing to attention behind her, guarding a blinded, gagged boy who lay on the ground, still. The anaesthetics had kept him peacefully sleeping. 'Lucky him.' she thought wistfully.

The two boys standing were some of her more useful minions. Curly had come in handy to pass a message once before, per Chris's orders. He would come in useful again. 

Angel suddenly turned from the window and ran to the stairs. 

"There's not enough space here for a confrontation." He breezed as he rushed past her, and down the staircase, footsteps echoing on marble. His red jacket shimmered, embroidered wings visible on the back. 

"The Hall will be perfect, hey?" he called loudly from below. "Space enough for a real fight." 

"No real fights! Or I'm telling Chris!" She yelled back. 'So impulsive.' Summer sniffed to herself. 

The pinkish-silver haired girl had caught up to him (leaving her boys with orders above), just in time to see the golden-eyed teen 'hmph' obstinately in return. 

"De Courcy is of no importance to me. This is all I ever needed from him." He said, looking down at the golden yellow blade in his hand, at its full, five-foot menacing extension. 

"The power to smite your enemies, yeah yeah, we all know." Summer scoffed. 

He scowled at her. "Shut it, you Pink Puke. What do you know? All you care about is what colour  you're gonna wear tommorow, or what new shit you're gonna flood the house deliveries with next." 

Summer looked disdainful, but not too bothered. She was used to Angel's swipes. The girl tossed her short hair over her shoulder. "Whatever makes you feel better about yourself, bub. Keep on talking, why'd you stop?" 

Suddenly, they heard the grand hall doors open below. 

Sharing a quick look, they raced down the grand staircase, Summer choosing halfway through to sit on the banister and slide down it. Angel jumped off midway, did a flip through the air and gracefully landed ten feet down, to speed his descent. 

It was showtime.