Asher landed heavily on the ground, still in his Stinkfly transformation. He looked at Max with urgent eyes. "Grandpa, we've got a serious problem. I've confirmed that Kevin and Vilgax have formed an alliance."
"An alliance?" Max's expression darkened with genuine alarm.
"When Kevin left earlier, Vilgax's mechanical units actively covered his retreat. Plus, he knew about my Omnitrix." Asher's voice carried the weight of tactical analysis. "All the evidence points to one conclusion, they're working together now."
Max's jaw tightened. "If those two have joined forces, we're looking at a dangerous combination. Kevin's abilities combined with Vilgax's resources and combat experience..." He trailed off, the implications clearly troubling him.
"We need to get back to the hotel," Asher said with calculated caution. "Staying out here makes us sitting ducks. especially when I'm timed out"
Max glanced at the Rust Bucket, then at Asher. "Right. But... "
Ben shifted uncomfortably, lowering his voice. "Asher, if you ride inside with us, it's going to be... really cramped." He couldn't quite bring himself to say the rest.
Asher caught the meaningful looks from all three of them and understood immediately. "I get it. How about this, I'll ride on the roof?" He gestured upward with a resigned expression.
The visible relief on their faces would have been comical under different circumstances. All three visibly relaxed, their wrinkled noses smoothing out as they collectively exhaled.
It really was that bad.
Max, Ben, and Gwen quickly piled into the Rust Bucket while Asher climbed onto the roof, lying flat against the worn metal. As they drove through the city streets toward their hotel, the Omnitrix symbol began flickering red.
"Pull over!" Asher called down, tapping on the roof.
Max eased the vehicle to the side of the road. Asher scrambled down as the watch beeped its final warning, and in a flash of green light, he reverted to his human form. He dusted himself off and climbed back inside, squeezing into the cramped rear space with Ben and Gwen.
The delay cost them precious time.
When the Rust Bucket finally started moving again, none of them noticed the figure tailing them. A gang member in a dark helmet straddled a motorcycle several car lengths behind, maintaining a careful distance. When the Rust Bucket pulled up to their hotel, the motorcycle glided to a stop in the shadows nearby. The rider pulled out a phone, muttered a few words, then tucked it away and followed Asher into the building.
Asher walked through the hotel lobby, his senses on alert. A waiter carrying a silver serving tray turned while talking to a colleague and accidentally bumped into him.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Asher stumbled back a few steps, rubbing his shoulder with mild irritation.
"I'm so sorry! Really, I apologize!" The waiter quickly set down his tray, bowing apologetically.
"It's fine." Asher waved off the apology, but his attention had already shifted to something else, the pristine surface of the silver tray. In its reflective surface, he could see the entire lobby behind him, including a thug with a distinctive green mohawk pushing through the front entrance. The man wore a spiked leather vest that screamed "gang member" and stuck out like a sore thumb in the upscale hotel environment. His eyes swept the lobby, lingering on Asher.
'Someone's following me,' Asher thought, keeping his expression neutral. 'But I need to be sure.'
After the waiter moved on past the thug, Asher hesitated for a few seconds, then suddenly spun around, his eyes locking directly onto the gang member.
Their gazes met.
The thug's eyes immediately darted away, and he froze mid-step, one hand awkwardly rising to scratch his nose in an obviously forced gesture of casualness.
'Definitely suspicious,' Asher thought. But rather than confront the man directly, he turned to the waiter who was passing near the thug. "Excuse me, could you please inform the front desk to send housekeeping to our room this afternoon? Room 237."
"Of course, no problem, sir." The waiter quickly made a note and nodded professionally.
The thug visibly relaxed, apparently convinced his cover hadn't been blown.
Asher turned back toward the elevators, maintaining his casual pace as he rejoined Max and the others. As soon as they were out of earshot, Gwen leaned in close.
"Asher," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "when you turned around back there, that wasn't about the cleaning service, was it?"
Despite the heads-up, Gwen's eyes had still widened momentarily in surprise. Fortunately, she recovered quickly and kept her composure.
A flicker of approval crossed Asher's face. "You're getting sharper, Gwen. Very adaptable." He kept his voice low and his pace steady, as if nothing unusual had happened. "Listen carefully. Don't react to what I'm about to say, no matter what."
"We're being followed. I've confirmed it."
Though they'd been warned, both Ben and Gwen stiffened slightly. To their credit, they caught themselves and continued walking normally.
"What's going on, Asher?" Ben asked nervously, his voice tight.
"Most likely someone Kevin and Vilgax sent to track our movements," Asher explained quietly. "I'm not calling him out yet because even if I expose this one, they'll just send someone new. Someone we might not spot as easily. Better to work with a known variable. Keep them close, see what they're really after."
Gwen drew a careful breath. "So we just... pretend we don't know he's there?"
"Exactly. And we watch what he does next."
The four of them entered the elevator as naturally as they could manage. Just before the doors closed, everyone caught a clear glimpse of the mohawked thug standing in the lobby, trying to look nonchalant.
The elevator climbed smoothly to their floor. They walked down the corridor to room 237, and the moment the door closed behind them, the tension that had been building finally broke.
Max and the kids immediately started talking in hushed, urgent tones. Asher, however, moved directly to the door and pressed his eye to the peephole, watching the hallway outside with intense focus.
One second. Two seconds. Ten seconds passed.
Nothing.
Then, suddenly, an eye appeared on the other side of the peephole. White sclera, dark pupil, and twisted red veins stared directly back at him.
Asher jerked his head back reflexively. His pulse quickened, but he forced himself to remain calm. The peephole design meant the person outside couldn't actually see him, the one-way lens worked in his favor. Still, the thug was bold. Or desperate.
After a long moment of observation, the figure outside finally crept away down the corridor.
Asher exhaled slowly and turned back to the others. "Based on what just happened, Kevin and Vilgax clearly have serious financial backing. That thug got onto our floor without any trouble. They must have bribed hotel security."
"What do we do now?" Ben asked, frustration evident in his voice.
"I'm going out to draw him into the open," Asher said calmly, his tone brooking no argument. "His target is me. If I'm alone, he'll make his move."
"Asher, no!" Max's voice was firm. "You're in human form right now. It's too dangerous."
"Grandpa, please trust me." Asher met Max's eyes steadily. "I know what I'm capable of. I won't let anything happen."
It took several minutes of persistent persuasion, but eventually Asher wore down their objections. Before he left, Ben pressed something into his hand, his prized air gun.
"Asher, take this. It's loaded and ready to fire." Ben's expression was unusually serious, his usual playfulness replaced with genuine concern. "If anyone gives you trouble, use it."
The weight of the gesture wasn't lost on Asher. Ben treasured that air gun. Handing it over meant something. "I'll bring it back safely," Asher promised, slipping the weapon into his jacket pocket. His left hand rested on the door handle. "And I'll come back safely too."
He opened the door and stepped into the corridor.
The thug, who had been lurking near the corner of the hallway, carefully peered around the edge of the wall. When he saw Asher emerge alone, his expression lit up with predatory excitement.