All six of their group were sitting around the wide-open living room area of the suite.  Nine was rummaging through the plastic bags from radio Shack, occasionally mumbling a "yes" or a "hmm, that should work".  Tom and Ghost had taken off their coats as Ghost finished giving his story about the girl in the lobby.

As far as hideouts went, it was pretty sweet - no pun intended.

"The JW Suite is the signature suite of the New York Marriott Marquis featuring a contemporary style, large floor plan, mahogany piano and up-close views of the NYC skyline."  So the brochure in the room had said.  Nobody was quite sure what a "piano" was until Nine referenced the interactive database on the small computer he took from the house.  It turned out that the piano was a large musical instrument, a string/percussion hybrid.  It was pretty, and the sound clips on the database were varied and interesting, but nobody could play it.

Endless possibilities floated through Ghost's mind as he watched New York City through the glass of the passenger-side window.  So many people, all so different.  If he wanted to he could step out of the vehicle and lose himself in this city in a snap.  The idea had a certain appeal given what he'd been through since waking up in the tree with the others.

When it came to figuring things out, like where they were and where they were going, Nine had proven himself to be particularly useful.  The vehicle the group had appropriated had a navigation system which Nine was able to use to begin to answer some of the questions which had been staring them in the face since their arrival.

NotBetty's driving was erratic and of the rumpy-bumpy variety, but she adapted and refined her technique with a speed that surprised even Nine.  By the time she had gone a quarter of a mile she had her speed fairly smoothed out and the vehicle's movement in control.  A car passed the group's, going in the opposite direction.  NotBetty watched the driver as he passed and then afterwards leaned back a little in her seat and drove one-handed, exactly as the other driver had been doing.

Sound...the most terrible combination imaginable of glass breaking, fingernails on chalkboard, and someone crushing a parakeet under their boot.  It was loud to the point of painful insanity.  It was mind-shattering.

The cop who had run for the gate tripped over his own feet and slammed right into it, only to rebound backwards down onto the lawn where his body twisted from the intense aural assault.  Groans came from the cops on the ground and the other man who had surendered to them.  Even with his hands clamped firmly over his ears, Al's head throbbed from the sound's impact.  Ghost, Betty, and NotBetty felt their teeth rattle in their sockets.

Al was the first to hear them coming.  From behind the house he picked up the sounds of squealing tires from down the street.  That was followed by some heavy engine sounds that closed in rapidly from each end of the street.  Whatever they were, they had communication equipment.  The sounds of radio chatter from inside the approaching vehicles was clear to him.

Tom was the first to see them as the two marked cars screeched to a halt at the end of the driveway, blocking the larger vehicle from exiting.  The vehicles were four-wheeled like Fox's but these had an official look and feel to them, black and white with the word "Police" on the side.