"Why must I be here?" Gypsy's plaintive question cut through the silence. There was only fifteen minutes left until the press conference began and Damien could not shake the feeling something wasn't quite right.

He should have been in a good mood. As promised Brina had called him not long after he got home the night before and told him her friend would be able to make something to protect Patrice. The item, in the form of a locket, would be delivered to Damien's office within the next few days. The only downside had been that Brina's friend could only promise one working talisman but as the second would be only for show he could provide a non-working version if Damien desired.

So why then had he awoken with such a feeling a dread? The dread was unforgiving, but Damien was too focused on the press release to pay too much attention to it.

"Because you symbolize the essence of the transition, as well as the stability I'm promising. You have been a staple of the team, for many of the iterations. the old guard standing side by side with the new. Besides, I need you. I've got none of the team with me, and my body double is just that, a body double. Someone to pretend to be my alter ego. Without you, I won't be able to pull this off." Damien's tone was patient, despite having already had this conversation at least three other times.

"You know I do not get along with the press. Even when I do nothing wrong they like to find fault. I am not a good choice to have here." Damien knew she would argue the matter forever given the chance. Ever since Percy had left she had done everything she could to drive away those closest to her.

"You don't have to do anything with the press. All you have to do is stand there and be imposing. If I need to put 'Brainstorm' on the Mic, you'll need to act as mental relay for me. I swear to god that man couldn't talk his way out of a wet paper bag with a gaping hole in it. The second he opens his mouth the whole world will know it's not me." Damien's reply was curt. He was tired of this argument.

Gypsy muttered something in her own language Damien guessed was a curse. "I have no idea what you are talking about or what the man who pretends to be you has to do with my being out there."

"Gypsy, Alzaya," Damien began. "You're the liaison, you're a member of the team, and one of the founding members of the new corporation. As your boss, your leader, and your friend, is it not enough that I ask you to be there? I assure you that you will not have to deal with the press. I will."

Quickly suppressed anger sparked behind Gypsy's hazel eyes. At the same time Damien felt her anger assault his shields and he realized this was the first time he had ever seen her truly angry. Even at their first meeting when she had slammed him against the wall he had not felt her lose control as she had now. "I will do it but it will be because of a promise I made. Not because of who or what you are."

Jesus H Christ. Damien thought. I don't have time for this. Damien centered his thoughts, keeping his own annoyance out of it, and tightly behind his shields. "Look. I know you're hurting, and I just said something that upset you. I'm sorry. Like I said the other night. I need you. For support, moral and otherwise. I'll make sure you don't have anything to worry about with the press. I know you don't want to be here, I know you don't understand why I want you on the stage. But I've been having some really nasty feelings about today, and I can't think of anyone I'd trust more to be out there on the stage with me than you. Will you accept my sincerest apologies?"

Damien felt her anger subside. It was still there, nipping at the edges of his shields but the intensity had lessened. Still Damien was glad Patrice had decided to freshen up a bit before going out on stage. Dealing with one angry, stubborn woman at a time was enough.

"I am no one's employee Damien, and I do not take orders. If you expect me to then, promise or not, I will not be staying." Before she had a chance to say more, Damien's assistant stuck his head in the door and gave them the five minute warning before the conference started.

Damien bit back a sigh of relief, keeping his emotions tightly behind his shields. "Thanks Chester." Damien replied. He focused again on Gypsy. "Understood, and we can certainly discuss this at another time. Again, please forgive my wordings. I'm distracted, there's a lot at stake, and I can't quite figure out why I'm feeling like this. Thank you for staying and putting up with me and my antics." Damien's tone was sincere. He truly was distracted, trying to anticipate any fallout from the bomb he was about to drop, and he still couldn't shake the feeling of dread that was deep in his bones by now. Something was terribly wrong, or about to be, and he couldn't figure it out. Damn his touchy premonition. Not for the first time did he wish he had complete control over it. Damien took a deep breath "After you, my friend. we need to take our places. The media beasts tend to get cranky when they aren't fed on time." Damien smiled at his little joke, hoping to relax his friend.

* * * * *

They met Patrice in the hall and the three of them walked toward the large area roped off for the conference. Damien was relieved as they neared the podium and he felt Gypsy rein in her power. As angry as she was she realized it would not be good to have it running out of control around this many people with no defense. Reporters from around the country had gathered to hear the latest announcement from the king of businessmen and Damien had to admire his press department. They had gone all out to make sure this announcement would be covered by every major news operation in the country, and not a small number of those from around the world.

One by one the gathered crowd noticed their approach and their chattering died away. Every eye was on Damien as he took his place at the podium with his two companions at his side. He looked around at the throng of people then toward those with him to make sure they were ready and he froze.

Time seemed to stop and Damien's sense of foreboding jumped straight into full blown dread. Gypsy's face and upper body was covered in blood, and there was something eerily reminiscent about this. This was close to the vision he'd had about her and Gryphon, but that wasn't it. He looked at Patrice and she had some blood on her too, but it was only drops, as if spatter.

He returned his attention to Gypsy, and that's when it hit him. He'd had this same type of vision during his first days as an Olympian. Only that time it was Silverhawk, and Silverhawk hadn't survived. Damien's heart started to race and with the realization he'd just had, time started again.

Patrice and Gypsy eyed him curiously, obviously concerned about the look on his face. Before he could say anything, his press liaison announced him.

"Without further ado, I'll allow Mr. Alexander the microphone. After all, he is the reason you've all come."

There was some slight applause, but the air was heavy with anticipation as nearly a hundred eyes focused on Damien. Damien swallowed and stepped to the Microphone.

"Thank you, Michael." He said with a smile. "And thank you all for coming. I promise it won't have been for nothing." Damien started addressing the gathered press corps.

"Many of you are probably wondering what I could possibly say or do to warrant such a large turnout of your brethren. I mean aren't I pretty much old news by now? I mean really, I haven't ripped apart any major corporations recently, I haven't done any spectacular board room raids, hell, I've been pretty damn boring for the last 6 months. So what could Damien Alexander do that would even be news worthy these days?"

Damien paused as a knowing smile crossed his lips. He was still worried about the vision, but he couldn't show any weakness, not here, not in front of these people. Instead he focused his senses and played to the crowd. The only thing he could do. "Well my friends, I hope you've got sharp pencils, your recording devices are on and the camera's are rolling because I'm about to make your day. Those of you easily shocked may want to have a seat."

Damien paused again, letting the buzz from the crowd ebb and flow. "If you're sure you're ready..."

"Get on with it already, Mr. Alexander." came a shout from the back of the crowd. Suddenly, several others took up the call. Damien loved manipulating the press. Such a mob mentality. It was so easy to guide them. He really should have Patrice give Michael a raise.

Damien held his arms out in a placating gesture, gently patting the air to settle them down. "Ok, ok. Enough teasing. Ladies and gentlemen of the press, my colleagues and peers who drug yourselves down here to hear first hand, and those watching avidly in board rooms and offices across the U.S., I'd like you to take a deep breath. Now let it out, and relax. As of 12:01 am this morning, I have officially stepped down as CEO and President of Alexander Enterprises. All control, authority, power and priveleges have been turned over to my protege, Ms. Patrice Winters."

A shocked silence fell over the room then everyone began talking at once as each person in the room tried to be the first to have his question answered. Damien let it go on for a few seconds then began to hush the room. It had just about settled down again when his feeling of dread sharpened into a sense of immediate danger to himself.

Damien immediately flung his senses out into the crowd, trying to determine the direction of the threat as he tried to quiet the crowd. "Now, now. There's more in news in store, I'll let you all have a turn as soon as I'm done. Don't worry."

Damien shot a glance behind him to Gypsy to see if she had caught the same feeling he had. There was a worried look on his face when he did so. It was gone in a flash, covered immediately by a self satisfied grin, that Gypsy could tell was pure artifice. Damien wasn't hiding his emotions behind his sheilds.

When he turned back to the front he started again, jumping back into his speech as he searched the crowd for a mind with hostile intent. "No, this doesn't mean that I'm opening up Alexander Enterprises for take over, I can assure you, Ms. Winters is as sharp as, or sharper even, as I am, and while I'm no longer in operational control, I still hold a seat on the board of share holders."

Damien's smile turned slightly predatory, again part of the act. "Now, just so people don't think I'm going soft in my old age, I have one other announcement. You see, I've decided to take my love of 'the fight' out of the boardroom and into the city streets. In a landmark agreement with Diana Gerrad, and Olympian Enterprises, I'm announcing today that effective immediately, I am assuming the financial backing of the meta hero team, the Olympians, through my new corporation, Alexander Integrated Security Technologies."

Once again you could hear a pin drop in the room as the gathered reporters processed this news. Then from the silence someone shouted a question and the whole room erupted in noise. Damien was about to quiet them once more when he heard Gypsy shout, "Get down." and felt himself thrown to the ground. A split second later he heard the loud crack of a gun firing.

Not again. Not this time! Damien thought. He pushed to his knee and looked for Gypsy. At the same time, he sent his mind out to the crowd, looking for the shooter. It was a closed room, they had to be there.

Gypsy was lying motionless beside him, the half of her face he could see covered in blood just like his vision. A disturbance in the crowd drew his senses and he was certain that was where the shot had come from. He was investigating further when a man grabbed his arm and tried to get him to his feet. "Mr. Alexander, follow me. We need to get you somewhere safe until this situation is contained."

"Like hell I will." Damien growled. "I'm not leaving her. Get the Olympians out here, and call an ambulance." Damien continued his sweep of the room and the lobby expanding his search though the first floor of the building. Why the hell couldn't he find the shooter? Someone's mind was going to be jello for this.

"Hold on Gypsy. Don't you die on me!" He whispered to his fallen friend.

"Sir, there's nothing you can do here. We've already called the police and an ambulance they're on their way." The man was still tugging insistently on Damien's arm trying to draw him away from danger. "Sir, you hired the best security money could buy, now let us do our job and get you of here."

Damien looked at the man and realized it was his security chief. "I'm not leaving her here like this. Lock this building down, put a wall of flesh around me, do whatever, But I'm not leaving her." Damien looked around, trying to find Patrice. "Find Patrice. Have her call the Olympians hot line and get Dr. McBride here, as in yesterday! Do you hear me? GO!"

Patrice knelt beside Damien. "I'm here. It will be quicker for you to give me the number than if I have to look it up." Damien knew her well enough to know she was rattled by what happened but she was doing a good job of concealing it.

Damien started to rattle off the contact numbers, but stopped with a curse. "Fuck! Brina's on her way to Vegas." Damien paused trying to regroup. He scooted towards Gypsy, trying to find the wound. "Ok. Get Diana Gerrard on the line, tell her what's happened, and that I need a healer for Gypsy. She may have a lead." Damien wished he'd payed closer attention to Dragoon's first aid classes.

While Patrice made the call Damien took a closer look at Gypsy. He could see where the bullet had grazed her leaving a long, jagged cut over her left temple. It was bleeding freely though not quite as profusely as it was before.

Damien moved so he could cradle Gypsy's head on his knees. He pulled off his tie, folded it and pressed it against the wound. Keep pressure on the wound, was one of the first tenants of first aid, at least what he could remember. She moaned softly and her eyes briefly fluttered open.

As he held the tie, he met his security chief's gaze. "Find this ass hole, Tom. I want him. No one does this to me, or mine. You got that?" The tone in his voice sent shivers down the spines of both Tom and Patrice. "Patrice, when you're done there, pull my cell phone out of my right coat pocket. Use Speed dial 2, and tell the person who answers who you are. Use the password I gave you this morning. Once you're connected. Tell Mike what has happened and ask him to start with the hotel's security feed, and move outward. Tell him I'm with her and I'll make sure nothing else happens to her. He'll be a little concerned." Which of course was a huge understatement.

He kept up his scan as he watched Gypsy, trying to gauge her condition with his untrained eyes. Where the fuck is that goddamn shooter. He asked himself, furious at his inability to locate him/her.

Tom looked ready to argue the order then thought better of it. He moved off quickly into the crowd which had begun to close in around Damien as the reporters noticed he was personally taking care of the downed woman. A flash bulb went off setting off a series of flashes as no one wanted to miss out on a picture of Damien Alexander cradling his fallen companion and Damien could only imagine what the tabloids would make of it.

"What a way to get publicity." Damien quipped ruefully. He was sure there were going to be all kinds of rumors because of this. He really didn't care at the moment. His main concern was making sure Gypsy didn't die on him and that the shooter was found. Everything else was damage control. If there was any damage at all. He could only see this as positive, the asshole actually tending to a wounded person, risking his life instead of hiding. His enemies might think he'd gone soft, but then, it's always good when an attacker underestimates you.

If Damien wanted the sights firmly on him, this episode definitely succeeded. He caught his Publicist's eye. "Michael, try to get me some air here. I can't move her until the paramedics get here, maybe hotel security can help?"

Patrice returned to his side. "Mike says there is someone in Jacksonville they can get here fairly quick. He told me to remind you to tell the paramedics Gypsy is a meta and requires specialized care."

Damien nodded. "Did Mike give you an ETA? And can you help Michael? Grab some of the hotel staff or something? I think the Interview is done for today."

"He said no more than half an hour but if they're bringing someone from Jacksonville, I don't see how it's possible." Patrice was silent for a moment and Damien could see she was struggling with whether to say something or not. Finally she came to a decision and said, "You really care about her, don't you?" She seemed a bit surprised by the fact.

Damien smiled slightly and met Patrice's gaze. "Not in the way you may think. She is a friend, one of only a few I can truly say I have, you being in that number. I promised one of my other friends I would look out for her, and take care of her as I can, and as she lets me." Damien paused. "Its funny. I constantly find myself as surprised as you are. Coming to Tampa has changed me in so many ways."

She looked around to make sure no one was nearby. Damien's security team had formed a perimeter around him and the injured woman and were keeping the reporters at bay. "That bullet was meant for you, you know."

"I know. But I'm not surprised. The only thing that surprises me is it took someone this long." Damien's response was as low as her question. "The list of enemies I've made has got to be longer than you are tall."

At his knees Gypsy began to stir.

Damien gently pulled his soaked tie away from the wound, checking to see if the bleeding had stopped. As he did so he spoke gently. "Alzaya, try not to move. Paramedics are on their way."

There was still a slow trickle of blood but it had nearly stopped. Gypsy tried to sit up and failed. "Paramedics? Why?"

"Because you just took a bullet. One that was meant for me. Don't move, yet." Damien sent a wave of gratitude through his shields, silently thanking Gypsy for her bravery. He hated being in her, or anyone's, debt, but the alternative was unthinkable. He hoped he would be able to live it down.