" Say, Constable," Henry asked lazily, "you wouldn't have been tipped off by the manager of this fine establishment?"The constable blushed. "I can't c...mment on that, Sir." No need to, thanks," Henry answered genially.Chris smiled wolfishly at the constable. "On a word, Constable. The manager is carrying a vial with some white powder in his breast pocket. I saw him snort some of it from a small spoon. I am willing to testify to that too. Doesn't that sound like probable cause?"The constable. Now hands up again. Concentrate." Concentrate? Concen... FUCK! Now my other hand is killing me." CONCENTRATE! Not on the pain. Concentrate on blocking me. Ya block me."Phillip knew he was getting mad, but he didn't care, this was crazy, standing here letting a mutant whose hands feel like she is hitting him with a steel bar punch his hands. Fine. She wanted him to concentrate, he would concentrate, he would block her punches. Or break his hand trying. She pulled her right fist back to her ear. More

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