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Quote:
The darkness. The silence. The void.
A heartbeat....breathing....
A pair of eyes snap open, pupils pulsing open to absorb....no light...
"AHH!" Ozzy shouted, jerking up into a sitting position. His startled breath panted, heavy with the pounding in his chest.
"WHAT...what...where..." he stammered, wide eyes searching through the pitch darkness. His arms moved and flailed invisibly. Like his sight, he reached...searching...grasping for anything...for any hold on the moment.
He paused, the sound of his beating heart clouding his hearing.
"Hello?" he said aloud, the word drifting into the darkness. "HELLO?! Where am I?!"
For a moment, nothingness replied in kind.
Then...
"...Ozzy...?"
His head jerked back and forth for the voice. A familiar voice. A female voice.
"...Lyly?" he replied. "Is that you? Where are you?"
"...I am here..." her voice replied, somewhere near him. "...where are you? Where are we?"
"Lykopis..."
Gaunt.
"Edmund?!" Ozzy yelled. "Gaunt...what's....where are you?"
Ozzy suddenly felt a thin hand grasp his shoulder, causing him to jerk suddenly...
"...here..." the whispery voice of their teammate replied. "...right behind you..."
Ozzy reached up, grasping the hand. But...it wasn't a hand...was it? Something wasn't right. The fingers....they were....hard...thin...almost like...
"............Gaunt.......?" Baxter muttered.
"Yes, Ozzy...it's me...I can see you..." Edmund replied. "Lykopis is to your right..."
Ozzy let go of the hand, reaching out to his right. Sure enough, her worn grasp found his.
"Lyly...you okay?" he asked.
There was no reply for a moment.
"Baxter...." she said. "...your hand...it feels so.......cold..."
Ozzy frowned, opening his mouth to question, when...
"Hello?!"
"Icarus." Lykopis replied. "You are here, too..."
"Yeah...wherever here is..." the voice stated in the darkness. "...who's with you?"
"It's me...and Gaunt..." Ozzy said. ".....do any of you know what the fuck just happened?"
"We were....we were in Spain...right?" Icarus asked.
"Yes. Spain." Lykopis replied. "We were on a mission.......were we not?"
Ozzy frowned, his memory of the previous moments as foggy and unforthcoming as the darkness itself.
"Gaunt." Ozzy began, trying to clear the cobwebs. "This...darkness. Is it you? Can you do something about it?"
"I have nothing to do with this....nor, it seems, can I do anything about it." his normally eery voice replied. "I have been trying to absorb it...to communicate with it...........nothing..."
Suddenly...a noise. Everyone went silent, searching the darkness. The noise stopped. Then, after a moment, it returned. A...gurgling...of sounds. Snaps and clicks, muttering and spitting in rising and falling tones.
It stopped again.
".....o-k-a-y...what was that...?" Baxter began nervously.
Before anyone could reply, a sudden sharp light pierced the darkness. Ozzy's eyes immediatly crunched shut, involuntarily turning from the sudden exposure.
"...oh.......oh my....god..."
It was Icarus. His voice....startled...shaken....what?
Ozzy forcibly pryed his own eyes into an open squint, turning towards the illumination. It was a moment before he could easily make anything out. Shapes, at first. Then, slowly, details started to come.
The light. A soft, white glow. Coming...glowing...from...
"...Icarus?" Lykopis questioned, her now somewhat dim form visible near Ozzy. She started to find her feet, staring with similiarly squinting eyes towards the light.
Ozzy stood as well, shading his own slowly accomadating vision. And what he saw was....confusing, at best.
"...guys...?" Icky asked, staring at his own hand, his voice sad, and small...like a child. "...guys...what's...what's happened? What's going on??"
The glow of light was coming from his own fingertips.
"What's happened to me?!!" he asked, his voice growing into a startled shout.
The light reflected and glinted off thread-like streaks of metal, covering his arms...his hands...his face. It covered him like a spider-web.
Like....circuitry...
Lykopis started to answer, but none was forthcoming. She looked to Ozzy for answers, but, was suddenly taken back with what she saw.
Baxter...noticing her expression...stared for a moment, before looking down at himself.
His skin...the light....the light was reflecting off his skin. Off his........metal....skin....
"...oh...." was all he could say, staring down at grey, metallic hands. The metal seemed to cover his entire physical form. He had seen this before. In that other dimensional place he and the La Perdita team had visited a few years back. That 'dark' dimension.
"Lykopis. Baxter. Sidewinder. Gaunt."
Ozzy and Lykopis turned quickly around. There, standing behind them a few feet away, stood Victor Reilley.
"...I thought I smelled you guys..." he said, his voice calm and even.
Ozzy's horrified expression should have clued Victor into the fact that something was wrong. That is...if Victor could see it.
His eyes....gray and upturned.
He was blind.
"...does anyone have a flare...or a light of some kind?" Victor asked, seemingly clueless to his own impairment.
He was still in the dark.
"{{{{++)<,.}}}}||||\\\|||**0^^=+))*:***" the noise stated suddenly, everyone jerking towards it's origin.
Adem Different walked up to them, a curious expression...as ever...on his face. He looked back and forth at them, pausing on Icarus and Victor.
"}}}|*}}|\\\|||**0^?"
The noise...the screeching, strange gurgling sound...it was coming from him.
He was speaking it...
"}||\_----_*)(?" he said again, curious as to why no one was responding.
"...jesus..." Ozzy stammered. "...what the fuck is going on..."
"My...my hand..." Icarus mumbled, tears in his eyes, caught totally in his own predicament. "...how...how is this..."
"{*()+---?"
"People...what's happening?" Victor asked, oblivious. "Where are we? Can you see something?"
Ozzy and Lykopis turned back and forth between their transformed comrades. Ozzy, paused, looking hard at Lyly's face.
"Lyly...." he began, walking towards her to get a better look. "....that scar..."
She squinted in confusion, even as Ozzy placed a metallic finger up near her left eye. Lykopis reached up, running her fingers along a long, thin scar that ran from her left eyebrow, down across her eyelid, breaking only for the eyeball, and continued well into her cheekbone. She rubbed it back and forth, confusion clouding her vision. What she couldn't feel, however, was the intricate, black tribal tattoo that attempted to cover the scar.
"...your hair...has gotten...longer..." Ozzy stated, noticing her ebony strands, stretching clear down to her backside, expertly braided in intervals.
"{{+__--*!" Adem demanded.
"ADEM, I CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU!" Ozzy suddenly yelled. He spun towards Icarus. "I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK'S HAPPENED TO YOU EITHER, ICARUS!"
The moment was catching up to him. To all of them.
"AND VICTOR..." he started, spinning towards the man.
"I'm blind." Victor suddenly stated. Very calmly. Very evenly.
Ozzy's mouth was still open, even as the irritated wind drifted out of his lungs.
"....yeah chief....looks that way..." he mumbled.
Victor said nothing. Made no expression one way or another. He simply stood there, absorbed in his own thoughts.
"Ozzy..." Lykopis said in an unusually quiet voice. "...what has happened to us..."
"We all seemed to be....changed..."
Lykopis clenched her jaw, as Gaunt stepped into the dim frame of light. A long, flowing cloak of shadows...seemingly thicker than the lack of light around them...covered a hidden form. But his face....his face was........gone.
A stark, black skeleton stared back at them. The only thing reminescent of the man they knew, his round, black-lensed spectacles, covering what they could only assume were empty sockets.
The Shadow Chancellor studied his skeletal hands briefly, before a small chuckle emanated from a moving jawbone.
"It seems I have lost weight..." his muttered with a black humor.
No one said anything for a moment. Not even Icarus.
"Drake." Ozzy began finally. "Where's Marshall?"
"Drake Marshall is dead."
Everyone turned towards the foreign voice coming from the darkness. Footsteps could be made out, clicking against a hard floor. Coming closer...
"As is Thomas Foxe."
...and closer...
"Who is there?!" Lykopis demanded, immediately reaching for her sword.....which wasn't there.
"No need for arms, my dear..." the voice came closer. "...I'm here to help..."
A figure stepped just into the dimmest perimeter of Icarus' light, hands fumbling with something.
A click of metal, and the thin pop of a small, orange flame briefly appeared.
An inhale.....and then, a small gust of smoke.
Tobacco. Cigarette smoke.
The figure stepped fully into the light...
"...to try and shed a bit of light on your problems..."
Everyone peered back at the bald man, in the worn coat...smoking the cigarette...
"My name is Prometheus." he stated evenly. "Let's bring you all up to speed, shall we?"
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Quote:
"Bullshit!" Ozzy barked, taking another step closer to this bald stranger.
"Oh?" Prometheus asked. "You know something I don't?"
"...an entire year..." Lykopis stated, not quite sure if she believed what she said. "You're saying we're missing...an entire year?"
The bald smoker shrugged casually, gesturing with a subdued dramatic flare.
"Weellll....about eleven-and-a-half months, if you want to be specific..." he said with a nod, smoke snorting from his nostrils.
"We were just in Spain!" Ozzy half-shouted. "Now we're here!"
"No.....you were in Spain...then, something happened. Something...bad. A year passed, and now you're here."
"Did you do this to us?" Icarus finally joined in, eyes etched with shock. "Did you do this to me?!"
"No. I have nothing to do with any of this..." Pro answered honestly. "...save bring you here, of course."
"And where, exactly, is here?"
Pro looked around a bit, studying the darkness that surrounded them.
"Well...funny you should ask...it really has no name. It's a place between places. A dimension between dimensions..."
"A cliche' between a cliche'?" Ozzy retorted, his temper finding a seeming permanent grasp on the situation.
"Clever." Pro smiled. "Call it what you will. I call it 'The Chatroom'. It's a void I use when I need to have private conversations."
"A chatroom? Like...on the internet?" Victor spoke up.
"Well...no, not really..." Pro grimaced, walking up to him with a deep stare at his blind pupils. "...no...I guess I'm just lazy with names, is all..."
He paused, running a hand back and forth in front of Victor's eyes. Reilley's hand suddenly snapped out, grabbing his wrist in a halt.
"Do you mind?" Victor asked.
The bald stranger smiled, Victor releasing the hand.
"Listen...Prometheus..." Lykopis began. "We need some straight answers."
Pro paused, looking at them all.
"One year ago..." he began. "...something rather cosmic happened in your universe. A small something. But, powerful enough to cause a distortion of your reality."
He paced between them, looking down, smoke clenched between his teeth.
"It's first side-effect was this..." he stated, motioning towards Edmund. "...a stripping of his essence...and then...a subtle remolding, if you will..."
Gaunt looked up and down at himself.
"After that...events played out....and played out...and played out...all in myriad forms..." Prometheus continued. "...and all at the same time..."
He took a drag of the smoke again...
"Somewhere...a new team of adventurers with old initials has formed....looks good, too." he began. "Somewhere else...someone with my name is hellbent in his own strategy, leading a team with a rather obtuse name..."
He frowned a bit with the thought.
"...and still, more is happening. Has happened. Will happened. And all the while, you people...you're stuck in your own limbo, aren't you?"
He paused, looking around at the silent group.
"I can see by your faces you don't understand. And I knew you wouldn't..." he sighed, rolling his eyes.
"What happened to bring us here? To do this, to us? Where did this supposed year go? Why do we not remember it?" Lykopis asked.
"Questions, questions, questions....there are always questions with you people..." Prometheus responded, seemingly becoming impatient with the situation.
He walked straight up to Lykopis, looking up into her face.
"You have a beautiful face..." he said very quietly. "....but perhaps, you faced something more beautiful than you could handle?"
He spun towards Icarus.
"...he owns himself, now...his body and his ego, supercharged...upgraded...as one..."
He spun again, towards Adem.
"...perhaps he asked too many questions...and his tongue paid the price?"
Towards Victor.
"...and he saw something....something, perhaps, he shouldn't have..."
Prometheus looked back around at them all.
"Drake Marshall. Thomas Foxe. Both are dead due to the whim of the cosmos...and one being, in particular..."
"Someone killed them?" Ozzy asked. He jaw clenched a bit tighter at the thought of his friends. Dead.
"Well....I don't think he meant to...." Pro shrugged. "...but...yes...it happened because of him..."
"Who?" Lykopis demanded. "Who did this? Why? Please. Tell us."
Prometheus paused, suddenly looking at his watch.
"Time's almost up..." he said. "...I can't keep you here much longer..."
He looked up with a devilish grin.
"I'm really not supposed to be here, you know. My story is over. My time is done."
He took a final drag of his smoke.
"...this all started when your universe decided it was okay to evolve the most powerful metahuman that could ever be conceived....your missing year...your dead comrades...your transformations....those are all things you will have to discover in your own way...your own time...your own making." he said very seriously, and with a hint of sorrow. "As to why it happened?"
Suddenly, a drifting echo of voices...a chorus of minds...spoke up around them, with a baffling phrase...
Quote:
It was at this point in time that Mxy himself sneezed, with dire repercussions felt across the Vanguard Universe. . .
"Your universe still has alot of potential to explore. It's up to you to set things the way you want. To make life the way it needs to be. After all, I'm simply the narrator..." Prometheus continued.
He flicked his smoke into the darkness, orange embers exploding in a small shower of sparkling light.
"...you're the stars..."
The orange embers never fell. They swirled, and coalesced....swimming around the group...sparkling ever brighter. Prometheus simply turned, beginning to walk away. He paused, looking back at Ozzy...
"...and I'm expecting alot out of you..." he stated with a cocked eyebrow.
He turned, walking into the darkness, even as the embers burst all around them in a now-glorious rainbow of light...
".....................by the way....Chewy says 'Good Luck'..............................."
And like that....
.......they were dropped back into reality....
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Time has passed.
Reality has shifted.
The world has changed.
There are only eleven people on the planet who know something is wrong.
Six of them have just learned the terrifying truth...
"Mxy." Lykopis stated with a calm voice.
The crash of waves against the rocky shoreline seemed to echo with the word. The gust of salty breeze dimmed her voice a bit, playing carelessly with the tiny strands of her unbraided bangs.
"What is a....'Mxy'?" she asked, sitting on one of the dark, worn rocks.
"...I don't know..." Ozzy replied, squinting a bit with the early morning sunrise.
Victor stood behind them, arms folded. A black bandana know wrapped across his eyes. If the man felt even the slightest bit of weakness from the sudden handicap, he showed no signs. Razor-sharp senses seemed to tell him everything he needed to know about his surroundings....keeping a new balance to make up for the loss of his sight. But, no matter whether it was his near-inability at long-term emotions, or, his own private pride...he refused to allow any hint of personal loss.
Adem Different stood a few feet away, hands folded in their normal position behind his back. He too remained silent. But, not due to any emotional needs or sorrow. He simply didn't seem to be able to speak their language.
Icarus, on the other hand, was painted by his own sorrow and shock. Constantly staring at the silver and gold bio-circuitry lining his arms, his hands...from what he could tell, every part of his body...he seemed mesmorized by this sudden change.
"I have heard of this name....Mxy." Victor spoke up, Ozzy and Lykopis turning to look at the blind assassin. "In Paragon's files."
"How do you know what Paragon's files say?" Ozzy asked.
"Simple research. Would I blindly...." he paused briefly at the word. "....would I join your team if I was not prepared to know who I was working with?"
"Wait...are you saying that 'Mxy' is a person? That they're a member of Vanguard?" Lykopis asked.
"Oh!" Ozzy's eyes shot wider, Lyly glancing over at him. "Oh, I just remembered...."
"What?"
"...'Mxy'...yeah...I remember...back on the old team...in La Perdita...Grimm mentioned the name a few times....so did Smith....'Mxy'...I mean, I thought they were talking about a rock group, or something..." he explained, eyes wandering in the back of his memory. "...but...no....'Mxy'...it must have been...a teammate of some kind?"
"*^^^{*}**())" Adem commented, taking a few steps closer.
Ozzy and Lykopis looked up at him. Ozzy's face twisted into a slight expression of pity.
"Adem...." he sighed. "...what the hell's happened to you, man..."
Baxter stood up, walking over to his friend.
"I CAN-NOT UN-DER-STAND YOU..." he said a bit louder, and a bit sharper, trying to get through to the alien. He pointed at his own ear a few times, and shrugged accordingly.
Adem stared back with a very flat, very dry expression. Then, simply reached into his coat, and pulled free a small tablet of paper, and a pen. He quickly scribbled something, and then, handed it to Ozzy. Ozzy took the paper, reading it aloud...
"But, I can understand you....so stop talking so loudly..." he read off.
Adem quickly scribbled something else, handing him the paper again.
"...you schmuck..."
Adem drove home the statement with a sharp smack to the back of Ozzy's head.
Different began writing and writing, Ozzy rubbing the back of his head with a small scowl. After a moment, Adem handed the paper to Lykopis.
"Obviously, something or someone has altered the mechanics of my language centers. I am trying to speak English..or any other language for that matter...but only my native tongue comes forward. Still, it has had no effect on my hearing, or comprehension skills. As for this 'Mxy', I would suggest we contact the Munich office, and determine what has happened in the year that has passed. Assuming the Munich office is still there." she read off.
"Wow...you sure can write fast..." Ozzy said to Adem. "Oh! Hey! What about Jym? Can you contact him?"
Adem shook his head 'no', writing again.
"I have tried, but Jym doesn't seem to be linked in with my nanites anymore. Just as baffling, my nanites do not seem to be able to repair my speech pattern. Most curious."
"Okay, I agree with Adem. We should head back up to the castle and see if Gaunt has made any progress..." Lykopis announced.
The group began to trudge up the small embankment of the shore, Lyly pausing to look back...
"Icarus?" she asked.
Sidewinder was still standing there, staring off into the horizon.
"...I can hear..." he muttered, Lykopis walking back to him.
"What is it, Icarus?"
He turned to look at her, the confusion still dominating.
"...I can hear....sounds....words........messages...." he tried to explain. ".....signals..."
Lykopis just stared at him, not quite sure what to make of this.
"...I can understand them, Lyly...." he said again. "....frequencies...radio waves....electromagnetic reflections off the atmosphere........I can understand it....all..."
Lykopis grabbed Icarus by the shoulders, forcing him to look her in the eyes.
"Icarus, I...we...need you to focus. Get a hold of yourself." she stated very evenly. "We have all been changed in some fashion. If we are to figure this out, we need you here...with us. Do you understand me?"
"...Lyly..." he began, eyes wandering again.
"Icarus!" she barked. He suddenly snapped his attention to her, as if waking from a dream. "Do you understand me?!"
He paused, staring straight into her eyes. And, a calm seemed to finally wash over him.
"...yes..." he finally nodded. "...okay, yeah...I'm here....let's do this..."
She held him for another moment, and then, both finally turned and began walking up the embankment.
They crested into a wide plain, with small mountains on the horizon. A ways ahead, the rest of the group were making their way towards what appeared to be a very large, very ancient castle.
"...why..." Icarus began, trying to find a hold on reality again. "...why were we dropped here?"
Lyly shrugged.
"I am uncertain." she replied. "Baxter says this manor is owned by one of the La Perdita employees....a Mr. Montag, I believe..."
Icarus looked over at her.
"Montag? Grissom Montag?"
"Yes, I believe so..."
"THE Grissom Montag? The Sandcrawler?" he asked emphatically, this being the first time his old self seemed to be poking through.
"If you like..." she shrugged.
He looked back at the manor ahead...
"Cool."
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Quote:
Goodbye, Mr. Gaunt
By Edmund Gaunt
The group trudged slowly up into Montag Manor, making their way inside. Once inside, they each briefly parted to reflect upon their conditions.
Lykopis showered, allowing the hot water to pour over every inch of her body. She lingered in the stall, letting the water and steam pour over her body.
Finally, she exited and began to towel off. Walking out into the bedroom she had selected, she began to dry her hair and get dressed.
Pulling on a loose, white blouse she found in a chest of drawers, she finished dressing in a pair of slacks and boots she also found. She would have to return the clothes to Montag at some point. Or, if he was like most of his clan, she would simply have some form of payment sent.
"How long have you been here, Edmund?" She said, lying back on the bed and letting a hand run over the scar on her face.
"Not long, She Wolf." Gaunt emerged from the darkness, beginning to take form. "Although I admire your physical gifts, I am no voyeur." Gaunt stepped forward, his appearance different once more.
Although still covered by the long, shadowy cloak, Gaunt seemed to have filled out again. He looked almost normal. But on closer inspection, his skin seemed dry, cracked in places. Inky, black tendrils of darkness seemed to constantly pour from him. Or was it from the cloak? Lykopis couldn't be sure.
The overall effect was disturbing.
"You have changed again." She offered.
"Sudden mesomorphic transitions are not a new experience for me, I'm afraid. Did you know they tried to kill me during the Spanish Inquisition? It-Ah, but I am off track. You wish to know if I had any luck contacting the others."
"Did you?"
"Yes, William is perhaps the most resourceful of your kind I've ever met. He's sent a craft to pick you up. It will be here in the morning. He felt you could use a night's rest before returning. I think he's right."
Lykopis looked up, her hands reflexively beginning to brand her long strands of hair. "You're not going with us?" she asked a little hesitantly.
"I am not. William and I had an agreement. It is time for that agreement to end now. I am too long derelict in my duties as Shadow Chancellor. Things have crept back into the world that ought not be. And someone has to watch over them. I am that someone. Goodbye, She Wolf."
Leaning in slightly, Gaunt kissed Lykopis on the cheek and pulled back out. "The scar flatters you, my dear." Then he stepped back into the shadows and was gone.
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Quote:
By I-Man:
Qayin ben h'Adam
One year ago, thirteen people vanished. Twelve served Him who spared me for my crimes. When I heard, part of me wished to take up the search, but the Dreams had not yet come.
Last night, in the land of Nod, the Dreams came. The Voice spoke to me, as it has for millenia, calling the Sinner to Sacrament. My nephews and nieces, possibly killed by smokes and mirrors. Once more, I am given mandate by Him to partake of that Sin I created, now in Service.
I go to Spain, once more to be my Brothers' Keeper...
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Quote:
Metal Men
By Chewy Walrus
"Icky!" Ozzy Baxter shook the young man's shoulders, evidently finally pulling him out his stupor. "Wha..?" Icarus seemed... drowsy. Intoxicated. Numb. "I've been knocking at your door for almost a full half-hour, man," Ozzy said, sitting down on the bed beside Icarus. "What have you been doing in here?" Icarus shook his head as tears welled up in his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he pointed toward the mirror sitting opposite the bed. Turning towards it, Ozzy looked... and saw, staring back at him, a man he recognized as himself, but completely covered in some kind of metallic ore. Next to that figure in the mirror sat a disheartened young man. His once long, luxurious head of sleek blonde hair now cropped almost to nothing around his head. His smooth skin now covered in wires, chips, blinking lights, and all manner of technologies. As that figure gazed too, back at Ozzy through the looking glass, the ex-boxer could see that one of his eyes was now a piercing red laser, gazing out. "Who's gonna wanna fuck me now?!" the pilot groaned to himself. "I'm more machine now than man!" "...twisted and evil..." Ozzy muttered under his breath, unable to pass up such a brilliant set-up. "Oh, sure," Icky said, rising from his seat and beginning to pace the room. "Laugh it up! Make jokes at Mr. Roboto's expense! But you don't know, man... you don't know... having everything you ever knew, taken away from you, like that!" Sidewinder snapped to emphasize his point. "...that's, just... the worst feeling in the world." Ozzy paused, the chinking sound of metal on metal as he ran his hand over his face, preparing for the next words out of his mouth. "Icarus," Baxter said, completely calmly, "fuck you." Icarus shot Ozzy a hardened glare. "Ex cuse me?" "You heard me," Ozzy said. "Fuck you. Of course everything you've ever known has been taken away from you - because the only thing you've ever known is yourself! And when the time comes for you to be tried... for you to be tested... all you can do is crumple like a coward? Bullshit." Ozzy rose from the bed, making his way toward where Icky was standing. "Back in my fighting days, there came a point where the realization sinks in - I'm washed up and there's nothing I can do about it. Every boxer wants a final chance... but I never took mine. By the time that realization sank in for me, I was in debt up to my eyebrows and had seven different mobs chasing me down to collect. "Did you know there was a Hungarian mob?" Ozzy asked. "'Cuz I never did... "I never took my shot, kid. In fact, it wasn't until Nuriko of the La Perdita branch pulled me outta that gunk that I even realized that life was giving me a chance again, asking nothing in return. Screw karma, man... 'cuz I didn't have any good karma coming to me after some of the crap I went through... but I got another chance. "And that kinda puts things in perspective, y'know?" Icarus' head hung in front of him as Ozzy finished. Slowly, the pilot brought his head up and nodded, looking Ozzy in the eyes. "What the hell are you talking about, man?" Ozzy sighed heavily. "These... these... things!" Baxter said, motioning toward the cybernetics covering his comrade. "You're looking at them all wrong, man. Maybe... instead of focusing on the external Icarus... it's time you got in touch with the Icarus inside, y'know? Maybe then you'll discover what it is you're supposed to do with these things. "Life has given you a second chance, Icarus. Don't blow it by thinking about yourself..." With that, Ozzy turned, walking out of the room. As he reached the door, he stopped in his tracks at the sound of his name being uttered with a slight Russian accent. "Yeah?" he responded, looking over his shoulder. "Where are you going?" Icarus asked. Baxter shrugged. "Don't know. Thought I'd find Edmund... Adem... Lyly... Vic... see what's getting done, y'know?" Icarus paused, opening his mouth several times, as though wanting to speak, but not able to. His hands fidgeted a bit in front of him like a hyperactive child who had just been told to stand still. Finally, the words came. "C-can I come with you?" Icarus asked, sounding more meek than he had probably ever been in his life. "I... don't think I should be alone right now." Ozzy smiled. "Sure thing," he said, holding out his arm, wrapping it around the younger man's shoulders as they exited the room. "Let's go see how the other's are doing..."
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New York City
Thin lips puffed on the dark brown wrapper of a Cuban cigar, the dark grey ash falling from the opposite end. Those lips twisted into a smile as they looked down, surveying the whole of city that he practically owned.
...and he saw that it was good.
A string of hostile takeovers ranging from the Dawson Corporation to Paragon Industries to the TriVex Corportation to a struggling Mandelovian enterprise called MalvanX had placed him in a class all his own. His long blonde hair combed into a tight slick look on his slightly tanned head... it was enough for him, now the richest man on earth, to be named the World's Most Eligible Bachelor. He truly had everything going for him...
Moving away from the window, he ran a three-fingered hand over his desk of solid mahogany. His other hand ran down the fabric of his three-piece silk suit. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his solid gold pocket watch, opening it.
5:00 pm on the nose.
As if on cue, a soft feminine voice came over the intercom atop his desk. "Mr. Montag," the voice chimed, "Inga and Rhiannon are here for your five o'clock massage..."
Taking another drag off of his cigar, Grissom Montag's lips once again folded into a smile. "Send them in, Miss Tegan."
Moments later, the door to his office opened and two young women - a voluptuous blonde and a curvaceous Nubian - entered his office dressed in tight one-piece massuse uniforms, the skirts of which crawled well up their thighs.
Slipping off his suit jacket and tossing it onto his office chair, Grissom smiled. "Well, ladies... shall we get this started?"
The women smiled seductively as they slowly began to unbutton their uniforms.
Yes... Montag thought. Life is good...
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devil-lovin' Bat-Man 15000+ posts
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Somewhere
He no longer felt the fire. That was no comfort, though; it still hurt like hell. He stopped feeling the heat years ago... or was it months? Maybe he'd only been here for a single year and it fell like an eternity because of the pain. Ha.
He could still see the fire. There was little he could do about that: if he closed his eyelids, in a matter of seconds they would burn away. It wasn't in front of his eyes, it was in them. Invading his whole body.
He wondered how much of his body was left. Was he just a hanging head and a torso, with not even the ashes of his limbs left under him? What would happen when the remaining parts fell apart too? Would he be able to...?
*click*
And then it stopped. Just like that.
If he had any sensibility left, he would have felt the hook on the back of his skull be removed, letting what was left of him fall to the hard rock floor he had been hanging over this whole time.
It was a pathetic view, even worse than he had imagined: a single head, its flesh blackened by the fire, with nothing but a small section of his spinal cord attached to it.
For the first time in, he would learn later on, eleven and a half months, he closed his eyes... and began slowly regrowing himself, wondering if he would come out as Link Fox, or something completely new.
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The fireplace flickered with errant licks of orange and yellow, the crackling embers the only real sound in the massive room. Obviously an ancient meeting hall of some kind, it had well been converted into a luxurious den of antique sofas and fine wood tables. Ancient bronze shields, scuffed and marked from battles centuries past, along with twin broadswords of a celtic design hung over the thick, deep granite fireplace.
Ozzy leaned against the edge of massive furnace, peering into the dancing flames. The soft glow and warmth reflected in a muted, hazy fashion from his iron-like hide. He had recently noticed that the metal wasn't shiny or polished like steel, but more of a dense, rough grey.
Think I need a wax... he thought, a slight smile creasing his lips.
"Your hair..."
He turned, looking back at Lykopis. She lay comfortable along one of the softer sofas, the fireplace playing havok with the glitter of her eyes.
"...is it....solid?" she continued.
Ozzy cocked an eyebrow, running his hand through his tossle of white.
"...no..." he replied, seemingly just learning this himself. "...it feels more like...like...fiber-optic thread...or something..."
He paused, frowning.
"Want to touch it?" he asked, leaning his head out.
"No, no...that's okay..." she held her hand up. "...simple curiousity..."
"And boredom?"
A slight grin upturned the corner of her mouth. It was the first expression resembling a smile he had seen from her since all of this had happened.
"...somewhat..." she sighed.
"Where is this 'craft' that Paragon is sending?" Ozzy asked, turning fully from the fireplace.
"It's not coming, Ozzy." Lykopis stated very evenly.
He stared at her for a moment.
"What? But, you said--"
"Edmund said that he had talked to Paragon. That William was sending a ship. That we were going back to Munich." she replied, her eyes still staring at the flame. "As if everything was normal. Status quo."
She glanced up at him.
"There is no craft. No ship is coming for us. And he had not talked to William."
"Wait...how do you know all--"
"Did you see him, Ozzy? Did you talk to him?" she interrupted. She shook her head, looking back down at the fire. "He was....mad."
Baxter shrugged.
"Mad about what? About the situation? I mean, we're all somewhere between shocked and---"
"No, Ozzy. No. Not angry. Mad." she drove home emphatically, catching his eye. "His mind was...he...he wasn't acting himself."
Ozzy stared at her for a moment in silence.
"How...how do you know, Lyly?"
"After centuries of human interaction...after the falls of empires and the conqueoring of nations....do you not believe I know madness when I see it? When I hear it?" she explained. "Something in his voice...his urgency to leave us...the...humor in how he took his transformation, and how he tried to repair it....it was transparent...sad."
"...Edmund lost more than his body in our missing year..."
They both went silent again, Ozzy contemplating her words.
"....we...are...alone..." she finally said, the words escaping her lungs in a breath of sorrow and mental fatigue.
They were both silent for a few minutes, her last words hanging in the air, and in their minds.
After a moment, Ozzy walked over. He picked her legs up off the sofa, just enough to be able to slide in under them, gently replacing them back down in his lap.
Lykopis lay there, staring into the flickering light. Ozzy sat at the end, still holding her ankles softly. He, too, stared into the fire, as if they were both going to find the answers they were looking for in the random dance of flame.
"I've been alone before." he finally spoke, his voice rising above the crackling fire. "Trust me....this isn't it...."
"Hmp.." she grunted, lost in the flame.
"You....me....Adem....Vic and Icky..." he continued. "...as long as we stick together...", his voice trailed off, finding no need to continue.
The two sat there listening to the snapping fire for awhile, content in their own silence...
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New York City
"Getting quickly acclimated to the good life, aren't we, Monsieur Montag? But, then again, those who live on the razor's edge often live such."
"What?!"
The two women stopped their foreplay and scattered as Grissom dove for his desk. Not for cover -- but for a weapon.
"There's no use. You can't kill me, anyway. And I'm merely here to talk to a fellow businessman."
Something about the man's eyes spoke volumes. Dark volumes. Well over six feet tall, his red hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, his beard cropped close. His appearance was multiethnic and ageless. But Montag still kept his focus on his eyes.
"My name is John Sainte-Germaine. At least it is this week. I've been watching you. You've shown the same ruthlessness in business you've shown on the battlefield. Some of the companies you've poached were ones I had my own eyes on. Not to say your miniscule fortune threatens mine, but it's a fair start for a self-made man, so I have an offer for you."
"I'm not for sale."
"It's not a bid, it's an invitation. On the night of April 1st, I am having a get together with other members of the Draco Group and their allies to nominate this year's members of the Plumed Serpent Society. The normal idle rich and hoi polloi will be there, boring us all. I'd like you to come as well -- I'll have more to say there."
Sainte-Germaine strode forward and took a cigar from the humidor on Montag's desk, lighting it.
"You don't need to answer now. Showing up at Rauza Bal in Kashmir that night will be answer enough. Bring a date -- a real one, not these medically-liscensed whores. There's a world you don't know the full truth of out there, Monsieur Montag."
Grissom Montag began his usual sort of retort, but Sainte-Germaine wasn't listening. He merely walked straight to the plateglass window, removed it from the wall frame by hand, and leapt out at a stand to a hovercraft waiting three stories below.
"You'll get an answer, you meta bastard..."
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"I'm not so sure, man," Icarus stammered, hesitantly.
"Do it."
"You certain?"
"Do it."
"Okay, I'm going to count to three out loud."
"Don't bother."
Icarus gulped once, counted to three silently, then hurled the large bread knife he held in his right hand as hard as he could towards the blindfolded Victor Reilly.
Victor heard the low wooshing sound Icarus' arm made as it moved downwards through the air, and the crumpling of Icarus' shirt sleeve.
Microseconds later, he heard the slightly higher pitched thwipping noise of the knife cutting rapidly through the space between them.
Victor pivoted on his left heel, pushing out his right arm and slamming his palm against the flat side of the knife. It ricocheted away from him and clattered harmlessly against the floor.
"Wow. Okay," Icarus said.
"Again," Victor said, walking over to the spot on the concrete floor in the building's garage where he had heard the knife land. He stopped directly in front of it and reached out with his left foot. He stepped once to the left and shuffled a few inches to the right, searching. When he felt the knife beneath the sole of his shoe, he kicked it across the floor to where he knew Icarus to be standing.
"You sure?" Icarus asked.
"Again," Victor repeated, in a voice that would seem to someone unfamiliar with him to be annoyance. Icarus knew that the repetition was simply there in the absence of anything else to say. Victor Reilly had no concern for Icarus' reservations.
"Okay."
Icarus gripped the knife handle hard, and drew his arm back."
"Okay..." He repeated, and then threw.
Victor shot his right arm out as the knife neared him. He wrapped his hand around it and stopped it mere inches from his face.
He let out a small wince as he realised that he'd caught it by the blade and not by the handle, as he'd intended. With his left hand, he tucked the knife into his belt.
Icarus noticed the blood dripping from the cut in Victor's hand, and stepped forward.
"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry man..." He said.
Victor ran a finger along the wound.
"It's not deep," Victor said.
As he spoke, he heard footsteps approach the garage and stop in the doorway. He tried to guess the weight and height from the sound of the footsteps and the distance between them.
"Baxter?" He guessed.
"Got it in one," Ozzy Baxter said, leaning against the doorframe. He turned his attention to Icarus.
"Domo arigato," Ozzy said.
Icarus grinned, nearly laughing but not quite.
"That's what I like to see," Ozzy added.
Icarus approached Ozzy slowly.
"Is there any word from Munich?" He asked.
"Ah... we're not so sure on that front, Ick..."
As they spoke, Victor took his blindfold off with his free hand and wrapped it around his bleeding palm, taking a moment to crudely tie it off.
He opened his eyes, seeing nothing but the blackness that he'd started becoming accustomed to.
"But I thought Gaunt said...?" Icarus said, and was cut off.
"See, now, that's the issue," Ozzy replied.
Victor raised his uninjured hand to his face, holding it about a foot away. And then, he concentrated.
The spectrum of vision available to most humans was, since his enhancements, only part of the visual range to which Victor Reilly had access.
A faint blur began to make itself visible before Reilly's eyes. An orange shape, roughly that of his hand, with a red centre.
Victor made a mental note that his infra red still worked.
"Victor?" Ozzy said, and Victor snapped his head over to where his two teammates were standing.
He made another mental note: Icarus showed up in his field of vision as an orange-red blur, the way most people would. Ozzy barely registered, managing only a cold greenish-yellow.
"Yes?" Reilly replied.
"You hungry? We're headed to the kitchen."
"Yes."
The beginnings of a migraine made itself known at the back of Victor's head. Using his infra red for more than a few moments had always been a strain, and now was no different. He stopped concentrating and the reds around him faded.
The world was once again black.
Guiding himself using their footsteps, he followed Icarus and Ozzy out the door.
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terrible podcaster 15000+ posts
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"You sure this is what you want to do?"
"Positive."
"And what are you going to tell them?"
"What they need to know. What they need to hear."
Frustration. "You haven't told me all of that yet."
"No. I haven't."
"So you're just taking off to find this group of people - maybe half of them people you know - and when you get there, assuming they don't think you're crazy, you're going to tell them things you haven't even told me yet?"
"That's about the size of it."
"But... why???"
"Simple. For all I've accomplished over this past year, for all I've done, and for all I know now that I didn't know before, I've been without a purpose. I need these people. And, even though they don't know it yet, they need me."
"Doesn't sound very simple to me at all."
"Look. I'm sorry I can't explain this to you any more than I have, but I promise I'll come back to you as soon as I can. No matter what happens with these people, it's not gonna mean anything if you're not with me. Understand?"
A long silence.
"I'm trusting you on this one. But please hurry back. I miss you already."
"We'll see each other again soon. You know I'll be thinking of you."
"Is that supposed to tide me over until you get back? I can't read your mind."
Laughter. "I'll call you. Okay?"
"You better."
"I will. I love you."
"I love you too."
Click.
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"What'll it be, Icky?" Ozzy said, spinning a cast iron skillet in his hand before placing it, with a clang, onto the wood-burning stovetop.
"Honestly," the pilot said, sliding into a chair beside Victor, who had somehow managed to find a seat unaided, "I'm really not hungry... at all."
Ozzy arched an eyebrow.
"I can't really explain it," Sidewinder said. "I just... I just don't feel hungry anymore. Like my appetite is completely gone."
"You think it's the new hardware?" Reilly asked.
Icarus furrowed his brow, looking down at his hand. Even after talking with Ozzy, he still wasn't used to all of this... and probably wouldn't be anytime soon.
"Could be..." he said quietly. "Honestly, I'm not too--"
Suddenly, Icarus just stopped talking, gazing out into nothing in particular. Ozzy walked over to where Icarus was seated, waving a hand in front of the young man's face.
"What happened?" Reilly spoke up from beside, looking to Icarus' general direction and then to the point where Ozzy had been standing.
"Not sure," the boxer said, tapping Icarus on the shoulder. "He just... stopped."
"...wow..."
"...what?" Ozzy said, leaning in close.
"I'm like... a hub..." Icarus said, his mouth filled with awe.
"A... hub?" Victor asked.
"Yeah..." Icarus said, holding up a hand to his ear, moving it slowly back and forth, mimicking a headset. "Remember how, on our way up here, I could... hear things? See things?"
"No," Ozzy said, deep in concentration.
"Yes," Victor said. Both Ozzy and Icarus shot the man a curious look. Sensing their glare, Victor smiled, tapping his left ear. "Enhanced senses, remember? Made even more acute by the blindness. I overheard him when he was talking to Lykopis on the way in."
Slightly disconcerted, the other two exchanged a glance. A brief silence followed as Victor cleared his throat, urging Icarus to continue.
"So... yeah..." Icarus began again. "I noticed that... well... I can hear things. Information. Radio waves, signals, codes... all sorts of things. It's like..."
"...you're a hub," Victor finished. "So what?"
"Well... I-I just caught a radio wave... one of my favorite songs."
Ozzy smiled. "Oh really? Which one?"
"Duran Duran's 'Hungry Like the Wolf,'" Icarus looked up at Ozzy. "I think I've been getting the words wrong all these years..."
Ozzy smiled. "So... you can see info, right?"
"More or less," Icarus said.
"Then you could probably find some information?" Ozzy asked. "Like, on where we might be able to find some of the other members of Vanguard?"
"Maybe..." Icarus said, shrugging his shoulders. "It'll take some doing. Honestly, I'm kind of making this up as I go along... discovering these things almost by accident. Once I get more control, though... sure..."
"Any idea when that might be?" Ozzy asked.
Icarus shrugged. "No clue, Oz..."
Ozzy sighed, leaning against the stove.
"Uh... Oz?" Icarus said, pointing at the stove.
Ozzy looked down, noticing that his hands were resting right on top of the red-hot iron stovetop. Moving his hands, Baxter noticed that they were now glowing with the heat.
"...interesting..." Ozzy said.
Victor plunged a finger into his mouth, removing it and holding it in Ozzy's general direction. Raising an eyebrow, he remarked, "Indeed."
Once again, both Ozzy and Icarus looked from each other to their teammate, their looks those of confusion and slight unrest.
Smiling again, Reilly pounded his hand on the table. "How 'bout them vittles, Baxter? Getting hungry here!"
At that moment, the scarred Lykopis entered the room from behind Victor.
"Lykopis," Reilly said, not bothering to look back.
"Am I the only one who gets creeped out when he does that?" Lykopis asked.
Icarus shook his head, while Ozzy just smiled and waved.
"I was getting ready to make something," Ozzy said, pointing to the stove. "You want anything."
"No... I'm not really hungry," Lykopis said, sliding into a seat beside Icarus.
"That makes two of us," Icarus said.
And the four of them sat in silence.
"Wonder what the alien's up to...?" Victor finally said aloud.
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Post deleted by The Indestructible Man
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"Adem?"
Ozzy stepped out onto one of the main open roof areas on the east wing of the castle. Gone were the catapults, or watchtowers that would have been associated with such a place centuries ago. A reinforced pool, bar...
Naturally... Ozzy thought.
...and reclining chairs encircled what was obviously one of Montag's more preferred social areas of this summer home.
But, right now, the only occupant of this party-pad was a single alien, standing near the granite railing, staring up into the night sky.
He didn't respond to Ozzy's voice, choosing to instead continue looking up into the night.
Baxter watched him for a moment, and then, casually walked over to stand next to him. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Ozzy followed his stare skyward. Above them, the beautiful canvas of the night sky spread forth, painting a symphony of beauty to behold.
"...looking for your old neighborhood?" he commented, still admiring the view.
"**()--__++**"
"Yeah...I know what you mean..." Ozzy nodded. "...sometimes...every so often...I wouldn't mind looking up my old address, too..."
The two friends stared skyward for a bit in silence, the cool night air biting along their heads.
"So, uh...we're doing a bit of cooking downstairs...collecting our thoughts...trying to...you know...suss out a plan..."
Adem made no indication he was listening.
"...and, you know me....burned the toast again...heh.."
The waves of the ocean hit the shore in the distance, keeping a slow white hum of noise to divide between the wind's howl.
Ozzy sighed, finally looking down.
"Come on man...I know shit seems bad right now...but, you know me....it's ME!" he emphasized with a slightly sad smile. "I'm gonna screw this up. I...we need someone down there that can keep these guys going....you're the only one of us that can get this together...."
Adem's lips wrinkled a bit, his eyelids lowering somewhat...
"Listen...I..I'll even learn this language of yours, if you want..." Ozzy offered. "...make it easier to communicate, you know?"
Adem's mouth finally broke into a small smile, shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief. He turned, and looked at Ozzy, staring at him for a moment.
"^^}}{{\\|\|+==()()(**" he said with a wry smirk. Then, giving Ozzy a single slap on the back, he began walking towards the stairwell door.
Ozzy followed him briefly with his eyes, frowning.
"What was that?" he asked, turning to follow. "....did you just say something smartass?"
Adem continued walking, Ozzy pacing behind him.
"Did you?"
"((^^*^^*^^)()"
"...you don't think I could learn your language...right?"
"**0()(^^^"
"That's it, isn't it?!"
"***^)()("
"I could, you know!"
"{||\||}**"
"I could too!"
"**^^)*(__"
"Oh shut up..."
"{{}***^^()()**"
"Shut it!"
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living in 1962 15000+ posts
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Darkness.
Oblivion.
This is the hour of nothing.
Please place your shoes in the kitchen sink.
Don't listen to the screaming in your brain.
Just toss it under the train.
Seasons in the abyss pass by untold.
There are great darknesses. And within these darknesses, something begins to move. . .to open. . .
The eye. Massive, it stares into you, filling you uncomprehensible dread.
Huge. It's fucking huge.
Words I can't understand. How is it speaking? How am I hearing it?
Darkness again.
Blurred, half memories coming back through a haze. Someone is speaking. Someone is talking. Who? What the hell are they saying?
A name? My name? What the hell. . .
And then things get really crazy.
Everything starts to swirl and coalesce into a technicolor explosion as I'm rocketed along through. . .something. A long tunnel? I don't know. . .
After what seems like hours/days/years/millenia, I'm virulently expelled back into reality. It feels something like being born. Again.
It takes a moment to realize there's nothing solid beneath me. Yet.
I hit the ground. Hard. After several moments, the shock wears off and I begin to pull myself up out of the massive hole I've made in the ground.
I look around, not knowing where I am or really caring. But there is a vision in my head. A place. I hope it's nearby because it looks like I'm walking.
I take a moment to wipe away the dust and dirt that cover my torn jeans and my black leather jacket. Stopping at a small puddle, I wash off my face and catch a glimpse of my reflection. My hair's a little longer and slightly unkempt. Plenty of time to get it cut.
Face seems no ok. No damage, scarring, or bruises. Goatee's not bad either. But like the hair it needs a trim.
The man called Grimm couldn't but smile a bit at his reflection. Standing up and trudging along down the road he found himself on, an old, familiar tune began to play in his head.
"Well, let's see what that bald bastard's gotten me into this time. . ."
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living in 1962 15000+ posts
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Grimm slowly trudged up the long walkway leading to Montag Manor. "Big." he thought. He happened to catch sight of a familiar crest that he'd seen a few times and a bit of recognition seemed to dawn on him. "Montag. Figures. He's got his sticky fingers in everything."
Grimm headed on up to the doorway.
***************
Inside
Ozzy Baxter slowly trudged back down the stairs and again entered the kitchen where Icarus and Victor had resumed their game.
"Still no luck with Adem?" Icarus asked, turning as Baxter entered begrudgingly.
"No. It's been hours and even the simplest of words and letters don't come out right. It's like he doesn't want to know how to say them." Ozzy plopped down onto a stool and glanced up at the two.
"But you guys seem to be coping."
Icarus Sidewinder frowned enigmatically as his head filled with new sensory input.
"What's wrong, Icky?" Baxter asked.
"Someone's at the door." He said a little worriedly.
The group rushed towards the front door, Reilly following as best he could.
They found Grimm, already inside, muttering to himself. "You'd think a big thief turned security expert would keep his home locked up. . .Baxter?!"
Ozzy stopped short, recognizing the newcomer, but not quite being able to place him. Sidewinder and Reilly soon followed, as did Lykopis from another side. "I saw someone walking up to the house. .." She began.
Grimm looked them all over briefly.
Ozzy. "Still doing the metal thing, I see.
Icarus. "Walking erector set."
Reilly. "Blind fury."
Lykopis. "Xena chick."
"Well, I gotta say, for once, it's nice to be the normal looking guy in the room." Grimm commented, plopping down into a plush chair in Montag's den.
"Who is this?" Reilly asked, briefly peeking into infra red again and seeing only a black silhouette.
Ozzy squinted and thought for a moment. "Grimm?"
"Right the first time, Baxter. No flies on you, I see." Grimm answered, leaning back with his arms folded behind his head and closing his eyes.
"What do you want here?" Ozzy asked again, finally beginning to recall something of this guy. But he didn't look. . .or act like this.
"Well, a shower would be nice. Also, something to drink, assuming Montag keeps anything decent in this dump. . .maybe a nap. . ."
"No, no, I mean, why are you here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Grimm leaned up a bit. "I'm here to lead the brand spanking new Vanguard!"
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"Who the hell do you think you--"
Ozzy stopped Lykopis' advance with an outstretched arm, still staring at the new arrival.
"...Skully?"
The man calling himself Grimm opened his eyes again, looking straight at Baxter.
"Yes. No. Take your pick."
"Man...what...what's happened? Where did you come from?" Baxter began. "You remember us? Vanguard?"
"Well, I don't remember you looking like the Tin Man, but, otherwise...sure..."
"Do you remember the last year?" Ozzy asked point-blank.
Grimm's eyes went narrow...a new experience for Ozzy...as he seemed to try and remember.
"...no..." he finally said. "I mean...I remember you...Vanguard and all...but, one minute I'm doing my 'Death' thing...the next, the bald smoker is chatting me up something awfully cosmic..."
"Prometheus?" Lykopis asked. "You've seen him?"
Grimm nodded, looking around.
"Yeah...he filled me in on the situation...said you guys might need some help...so...here I am." he shrugged.
"Right...well..." Ozzy sighed. "...let me introduce everyone...this is--"
"Lykopis ala' the She-Wolf...Victor Reilley, the iceman, Icarus Sidewinder, the hot-shot...and I know Adem over there....how's kicks, Spock?"
"**(0){}||\"
Grimm's eyebrows arched a bit.
"...sure, well, I'm sure you can get a cream for that, or something..." he grinned.
Ozzy stared at this old teammate...a rather transformed teammate...with curious eyes.
"Hey guys?" he addressed the esemble. "Could you give me a few minutes alone with Big G?"
Everyone sort of shrugged, and cleared the room, leaving Ozzy and Grimm alone. Baxter sat down across from him, hands folded as he elbowed down on his knees.
"Grimm...you okay?" he asked sincerely.
Grimm looked at him, seeming to think about it for a moment.
"Actually...I haven't been this good in a long, long time." he replied honestly. "I know...I know Mxy has fucked up some things royally for the planet. But...and I don't know how...it looks like I actually came out of this a winner........for once."
Baxter nodded, looking down a bit.
"Have you seen any of the others?" he asked.
Grimm shook his head, sighing.
"No. No, the last thing I remember was darkness...a fall...splat...and I'm picking myself up off the ground outside."
"So...this Prometheus...he sent you here just like us, huh?"
"Seems that way."
"I wonder why..." Baxter queried.
Grimm thought for a moment.
"Well, if he's the one dropping us here...he obviously wants us together for some reason."
"To stop Mxy? To fix the world?"
"Could be, man...could be..." Grimm nodded. "...either way..."
He paused, a small smile coming over this new face.
"...it's good to see you, Ali..." he continued, holding his hand out.
Baxter took the shake with a smile, and a small chuckle.
"For once, Grimm, I think I can say the same about you..."
"Ha!" the large laughed.
"Man...you really have changed...haven't you?"
"Well, hopefully not my godlike tolerance for alcohol!" he suddenly bellowed with a gruff joy, the likes Ozzy had never seen from the man. "Where's the whiskey?"
Ozzy laughed, getting up and searching out a crystal cantor sitting on one of the fine oak desks. Two glasses poured, he handed the other to Grimm, both men staring at the caramel liquid for a moment.
"To the good old days..." Ozzy offered.
"To new beginnings..." Grimm countered.
The glasses clinked together, as they threw back the smooth liquor.
"*KAFF*!" Ozzy choked a bit, Grimm already pouring them another.
"Did I ever tell you about the time I drank Thor Odinson under the table?" Grimm asked, throwing back another.
"...what?" Ozzy rasped, still dealing with the second slug.
"Yeah, it was...fuck, I don't know how long ago..." Grimm began, lost in relvery. "...I'm in an Asgardian tavern, right? And there's this gorgeous piece of enternal sin sitting next to me, if you know what I mean........"
************************************************************************************************************************************************
New York City
One Grissom Montag sat at his desk, flipping through thick texts of history, and rumor. His eyes perused through pages on the Masons and legends of groups called The Illuminati. He sighed, his calculating mind crunching information and facts...spinning them off into theories and possibilities.
Grissom Montag did not like surprises. And he certainly didn't like uninvited guests. The stranger had caught him with his pants down. Literally.
Not again.
After a few moments, Montag leaned back up in his chair with a sigh, and persed lips.
"...I'm going to have to fire this security staff, aren't I?" he asked aloud.
Then, looking up, his eyes settled on a dark corner of the office.
"If you want to sneak up on someone, I would suggest actually finishing your smoke beforehand..." he drolled to the darkness.
A few footsteps, a small chuckle, and a bald figure clenching a cigarette between his teeth walked out from the shadows.
"Don't blame your staff..." Prometheus replied. "...it would make no difference."
Montag stared at the intruder with a calm calculation.
"You have thirty seconds to tell me why I shouldn't shoot you where you stand." he stated evenly, a pistol secure and leveled in his tight grip.
"I'll do you one better Mr. Montag...ten seconds..." Prometheus replied, striding over to his desk, holding a tan slip of paper. "I'm simply here to give you a message...a nudge, if you will..."
He layed the paper on the desk, still staring at Montag.
"...get ready for a new world..."
And with that, he turned, walking back into the darkness.
Grissom glanced at the folded paper, and then back at the shadows.
"The door's over there, you know..." he motioned to his left.
After a moment, Prometheus came striding quickly from the shadows, headed for the door.
"I'm so good at the dramatic entrances...but the exits...." he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, opening the office door, and walking out.
Grissom watched the door close, and after a moment, picked up the paper.
It read:
Only eleven people know the truth of the world. Ask yourself...what is 'Vanguard'?
Grissom studied the strange message for a moment, finally clicking his intercom on...
"Miss Jovanka...have security stop the man that just left my office..."
"Sir?" his assistant replied for just outside the office.
"The man that just left. Don't let him leave the building."
There was a pause...
"Ummm...sir? I've been here all evening. No one has been in or out of your office the entire time."
Montag said nothing staring at the paper.
"Sir? Is everything alright?"
There was a pause...
"Yes...everything is fine.......have the security staff fired, would you?"
************************************************************************************************************************************************
"Weapons." Lykopis stated evenly. "We need weapons if we're going to find out the problem here."
"I know...I know..." Icarus nodded, rolling his eyes.
"Then why do you keep leading me into libraries and pornographic dens?" she insisted.
"Look, I'm just following the information as I see it!" Icky replied curtly. "Okay?"
He continued his pace down a third hallway, Lykopis and Victor following.
"But, you know...that was a phat den...what a big screen, eh?" he commented, elbowing Victor.
Victor turned his head as if he were looking at Icarus. Icky caught the pseudo-stare, and got serious again.
"There." he said, stopping. He turned to his left, towards a pair of locked doors. "Something is feeding into here..."
"What is feeding? What are you going on about?" she asked impatiently.
"Energy...electricity....a security system, I believe..." he said. "Something important has got to be behind these doors.."
"Weapons?" she asked.
"Do I look like I have x-ray vision?" he replied sarcastically.
"If it is tapped with security, how should we open it?" she asked.
"Well, fuck girl...if Gaunt can get by the front door for us, I'm damn sure we can get in here..."
"Don't call me girl...boy..." she hissed.
"Jeez, you haven't changed THAT much, huh?"
Meanwhile, during all the banter, Victor was turned completely around looking at the bookshelf that lined the hallway.
He sniffed the air a bit, reaching out a hand. Pausing, as if perusing which novel impressed him the most, his fingers glided over the edges of literary spines.
"..I think..." Icky mumbled, trying to pry his finger through the edges of the doors on the opposite side of the hallway, "...if I can just get..."
Victor reached out and pulled out a copy of 'A Gentlemen and a Scholar'. With that, the bookshelf suddenly vibrated, and slid open.
Icky and Lykopis stopped what they were doing, turning completely around to see...
"Gun powder." Victor stated evenly. "Armory."
Before them, a vault of weapons spread forth, like the Fort Knox of all wars. Rifles. Pistols. Blades of all types. Even missle launchers, lined the walls in perfectly neat stacks.
"...whoa..." Icky muttered, a devilish smile spreading over Lykopis' face.
"I wonder what's in the other room?" Icky asked, thumbing towards the doors they had previously been trying to unlock.
"A security system...like you said..." Victor replied.
Icky took a step forward into the armory, Victor suddenly reaching a hand out to grab him.,..
"Stop!" he barked. And then, cocked his head to the side with a very deep sigh.
"..what?! What is it?" Icky asked, looking back at him confused.
Victor simply pointed down at his feet. Icarus looked down, noticing he was standing in the middle of a tiny, laser tripwire.
Lykopis rolled her eyes, as Icarus stammered a bit.
"I...I...HOW THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!"
"You are the one who can see informatoin, correct?" Lykopis replied with sarcasm.
"This is all NEW to me, thankyouverymuch!" he retorted. "And how the hell did blind-guy over here know anyway? Fuck!!"
************************************************************************************************************************************************
New York City
Again.
*beeeep*
Grissom pushed the intercom...
"Yes?"
"Mr. Montag? This is Alex with security..."
"Alex? Who are you? Where's Bob?"
"Uhh..sir, you fired Bob. I'm your new head of security."
"Oh. Right. Yes. Sorry. What is it?"
"Sir, we're getting a feed from your summer home in the British Isles...someone's tripped a silent alarm."
Montag frowned.
"Patch me into the feed. My office laptop...now..."
A second, and the video feed came up...
"...etting Victor lead us around from now on..." a tall, regal female spoke, pulling a few swords from his armory wall.
"Oh, right! Fuck, listen to BLIND guy. Sure! Why not?!" an obviously hot tempered blonde man, with what appeared to be circuitry running over his face and hands.
"Icarus. Would you care to join me in the dark? Call me the blind-guy one more time." a very cool voice replied from just out of camera range. "And if I were you two, I would step out of the camera's line of sight..."
The female and the blonde kid looked over...around...and finally straight up at Montag....
"Oh....for gods sake..." the woman sighed angrily, suddenly tossing a blade into the camera.
Everything went black.
"Shall I alert the British authorities, sir?" Alex the new, and somewhat nervous, security chief asked.
Montag studied the blank screen for a moment. Then, he glanced over at the slip of paper on his desk.
"Sir?"
"No. Thank you." he replied, quickly cutting the intercom off.
He paced for a moment, lost in thought. Then, he reached for the comm again...
"Miss Jovanka?" he said very calmly. "Have my jet fueled and ready within the hour..."
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living in 1962 15000+ posts
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living in 1962 15000+ posts
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"So, you were in-"
KLANG!!!!
"Ahhh, cut that out!" Baxter scolded as Grimm tried unsuccessfully to thump his forehead again before giving up and pouring another drink.
"Does it hurt?" Grimm asked.
"No, it's just annoying as hell." Baxter replied.
"Oh." Grimm seemed a bit deflated by this.
"Do you rust?" He asked after a moment.
"I don't know." Baxter replied after a moment.
"Are you metal all over? Like inside? Your eyes? Your muscles? All that?"
"I don't know!" Baxter tried not to choke while laughing.
"Huh." Grimm muttered.
"So you were in Asgard, then? It's real?" Ozzy finally managed to ask while Grimm focused on the alcohol.
"What? I was?" Grimm asked, looking around perplexed.
"That's what you said earlier. Surely the whiskey hasn't got to you already!" Baxter roared.
Grimm studied the glass for a moment.
"It's not the whiskey." He downed it and poured another as Baxter choked down his own.
"It's like. . .some things are crystal clear, perfect. directly in focus. So realized, I could almost touch them. Then others. . .others are very vague. Like half remembered dreams. Does that make sense?"
"Too much." Baxter nodded in agreement, pulling down another of Montag's bottles. "What about Haven?"
"Haven?" Grimm squinted, looking at Baxter. "What do you remember about Haven?"
"Not much," Baxter shrugged. "I was only there the once, and it didn't last long. But you seemed to like it."
"Mmm." Then, after a moment, "Haven's gone."
"What do you mean gone?" Baxter asked.
"It's gone. It's not there anymore. Wherever it was. . .now it's not. Fuck, I need another drink."
"Have you called Bree yet?" Grimm asked a bit more quietly.
"No, I haven't . . .so you remember her, too?"
"Come on Baxter, I think I'd remember my own wife!"
Ozzy doubled over in a spit take as Grimm roared with laughter.
"You ass!" Baxter responded after a moment, breaking out in laughter of his own. "I'm gonna have to clean that!"
"Eh, Montag's rich. Let the maid do it. He's probably got one specifically for every room." Grimm looked around before spying an old bookcase.
"Hey, wonder what ol' Griss' has been reading up on." He walked over and looked over several shelves before finding something that caught his eye.
"Just the thing for a little late night reading before bed."
"Whatcha got?" Baxter's curiosity piqued.
Grimm held the book up into the light where Baxter could see it. The title read Eldritch Horrors and Other Things That Ought Not To Be by E. Gaunt. "I grew up on this guy's stuff. He was great at setting mood, but a little repetitive and wordy." Grimm offered as he noticed Ozzy's face drop.
"E. Gaunt? Let me see that." Ozzy grabbed the book and looked at the author's photo. "It's him. This is the guy from our team. The one that left after we arrived here. Lykopis said he was mad. . ." Baxter stumbled over the words a bit before Grimm took the book back.
"Come on, man." Grimm chuckled a bit. "Edmund Gaunt died in 1940. Cirhhosis of the liver. He was a heavy drinker. It's all documented. I'll see you in the morning."
Grimm wandered off down a hallway, presumably to find a bed that wasn't taken. "Don't see any ghosts without me!" He yelled after a bit.
"Ozzy, my boy," Baxter started, pouring another drink, "everytime you think life can't get any weirder . . .Heh."
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"Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes, five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred, moments of tears. Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes, How do you measure, measure a year, Damnit now that song's going to been stuck in my head all day...... oh excuse me sir" he said as he almost walked over the door man, who was attempting to block his entrance " that quite alright sir i'll get the door myself. No no i insist. There's no need to get rough, I'm not trying to take your job! Jeez man I'm just trying to get inside."
Sir your kind are really not welcome here, go find some other place to sleep.
"I'll have you know, I have no intentions of sleeping here, though its quite warm and that bench in the park over there does kind of give me a back ache." he exclaimed pointing in the direction of the local park
As the doorman turned to look, the bum walked right thought the front doors of the musim. His long hair was matted and took on a tarnished silver quality in the soft light. his beard, witch had a small twig entangled in it, reached out in every direction from under an overcoat that was three sizes to big. The man walked past Egypt wing, one of the most popular sections, and as he stroled along the Excalabor excibit, How Life Was in King Auther's Day, he just laughed. Just wandering along seemingly without purpose until he came to a small room. All in all it wasn't a remarkable room, lightly decorated with some fourtenth century furnichor, a few relecs that really don't belong, and a large ornate mirror that spred the lenth of the wall.
He stood there for a moment combing is hair with his hands, straiting his pants and tucking in his shirt. After he felt that he was apropreatly groomed he stared at his relfection."man it's been a long year. I've been trying to get ahold of you for some time now. Some crazy shits been going on here man, things seem ..... out of place. Have you been paying attention?" wagging a gloved finger at the air.
"I have, and they just don't add up. It's like watching a remake of your favorite movie, only the movie is your life. Hell look at me, ok bad example. But you know what i meean. I'm still the same, and yet I know i'm the same. Me! no big deal for the avarage joe but I have a slight habbit of losing it, as you well know. So its not all bad.
Some people passing by stoped and stuck their head in the room to see what the comotion was, only to find a man speaking to his own reflection. Most people just walk away a few stayed to watch. He would pace back and forth recaping events over the past year, and then go into an overly dramatic recap of how it didn't make any since, and would be impossible in any normal world.
"But I know its not right and I'm not even sure what exatly is wrong. .... and I don't know how to fix it." He paused for a moment, growing a little iratated
"Look, just let me talk to the boss for a minute, he'll know what to. he'll know how to fix this. So if you'll just be kind enough to pass the message along....?"
No reply came
"Come on theres no need to be rude, it's not like i'm asking the impossiable here. Fine! Don't talk to me. I'll find a way to make them see its wrong. Oh i know what your thinking "their never going to belive you" well thats ok, I'm used to people thinking i'm crazy. Everone alway think i'm lost in my in world."
Sinking his head into his hands,"but i'm not, i'm lost in someone elses. I don't like it here, please Alice.......... I....I just want to go home." he sobed. "Why can't I go home?"
"Poor man's lost his mind" a young lady said as the small crowd drifted away, leaving Cross to his misery.
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... 10000+ posts
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"Then God said, 'Let there be an expanse in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters.' God made the expanse, and separated the waters which were below the expanse from the waters which were above the expanse; and it was so. God called the expanse heaven. And there was evening and there was morning, a second day."
Genesis 1:6-8 (NASB)
Throughout the history of time, one simple fact has been made more than evident. Cavemen, drawing on the walls with charcoal and animal feces, knew it as well as some of the world's most brilliant minds - Albert Einstein, Steven Hawking, Galileo Galilei, and Copernicus, to name but a few. It is simple in premise yet ultimately beyond broad in scope. It whispers in our ear every day, regardless of whether or not we choose to acknowledge it.
That fact, stated as simply and as complexly as possible is this: "The sky is big."
This fact is one that Icarus Sidewinder had not only embraced, but had based his entire young adult career on.
Based.
Past tense.
...and that is this young man's tragedy.
Just ten hours (or one year, depending on how you look at it) ago, he was an experimental test pilot flying missions on his custom-built jetpack for a private European consulting firm called Vanguard. He was is Spain and, despite the prerequisite amount of young angst, was fairly content, all told...
...that is, until, he awoke, quite literally, in the void, permanently entangled with all manner of wires, chips, servos, lights, and various other mechanical gadgetry that he had never before seen, much less heard of.
Vanguard was no longer together. Hell, Vanguard had probably never even existed. Time had gone screwy... and everything he knew had been rewritten. His life was forever changed. Everything he'd ever known was no wrong: black was white, up was down, and short was long.
The Counting Crows had it right, Sidewinder thought, lying on his back as he gazed into the starry night sky stretched out above him. 'You don't know what you got 'til it's gone...'
Momentarily, almost as an afterthought, he glanced down at his new high-tech self. How had he gotten this way? Had he signed up as an experimental guinea pig? Had his father even bothered to try to talk him out of it? Was his father even a scientist-slash-inventor in this 'brave new world'?
...so many questions...
...all of which seemed to disappear once he looked up into that lofty parchment stretched high above. He sighed. Having no family, no team, no past, and - quite possibly - no future was one thing... but not to have the skies?
Perhaps that was what was hardest for Icarus Sidewinder.
"You miss it, don't you?"
Icarus craned his head back to see the form of Lykopis, dressed in a simple sundress, standing at the door to the roof that he himself had entered by. Her eyes seemed... softer in the moonlight. She almost seemed less primal and more (dare he think it?) feminine.
"Yeah," Icarus said, looking back into the sky. "Yeah, I do."
Footsteps slowly made their way over to where Icarus lay. Sliding down beside him, the She-Wolf pulled her knees to her chest, looking out over the wooded forest surrounding the back half of the castle.
A long silent pause drifted over the two of them like the passing breeze, which gently blew the Amazon's hair, haloing her face in its tresses.
"A penny for your thoughts?" the Amazon asked.
Icarus smiled and held out a hand. "Let's see the money first..."
Lykopis rolled her eyes. "It's an expression, Icarus," he sighed. "And I thought Adem was bad..." she muttered under her breath, though just loud enough for Icarus to hear.
"Hey!" the pilot retorted, leaning up on his right elbow, so they were facing each other. "I resent that!"
"I'm sure Adem would too," Lykopis countered with a grin.
Slowly, she began to laugh. Then, after a few moments, Icarus sniggered... and the two teammates shared a few minutes of genuine laughter for the first time since having been brought into this world.
After the laughter subsided, another pause. And then:
"Seriously," Lykopis said, looking down at Icarus, "what are you doing here by yourself? The only time you were ever by yourself or away from a mirror, you were locked in the bathroom, yelling at anyone who might have thought about disturbing you..."
"Well," Icarus said, "firstly, in all fairness, sometimes I would use a mirror during that too. Let your imagination go where it will..."
Lykopis let out an audible groan as Icarus continued.
"Secondly," he said, "it's like you said. I miss it. The sky. As shaky and hot-headed as I undoubtedly always am... was... whatever... I always felt at home in the sky. It was my refuge, y'know? And I come here to find myself... grounded."
"Not to mention all the new hardware," Lykopis said.
Icarus furrowed his brow in thought. "Well, honestly, as bad as all that is, it would be almost... bearable if I had that solace, y'know? Instead, I've been reduced to a fact checker and you know as well as I do that Spock was always better at that stuff than I was..."
"True," Lykopis nodded, "but it is hard to take on status as a 'fact checker' if one is unable to communicate effectively with the world around him."
"I guess," Icky sighed, rolling onto his back again and gazing into the stars. "It's just not a role I'd ever thought I'd find myself in."
"Well, do you honestly think that I would ever have seen myself as a counselor?" Lykopis countered. "Do you honestly think that I would ever before now have been up here talking with anyone - especially you - about their... feelings?"
Icarus' eyes rolled over towards Lykopis as his eyebrow arched in thought. "Now that you mention it, that is kind of odd..."
"This world... this 'Mxy' has changed us all, Icarus," she said, "and not necessarily for the better. It is as Ozzy told me earlier: we are not alone so long as we have each other."
Icarus smiled. Reaching over, he took the Amazon's hand in his own and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks, Lyly."
Releasing her hand, he turned back to gaze at the stars, a twinkle in his eye.
And, slowly, the Amazon, too, reclined, laying beside her teammate as the two watched the stars go by in silence...
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INTERLUDE -- Claremont, California
The Amulet of Cernunnos. The finest-wrought piece of La Tene-period Celtic jewelry ever found and the archaeological find of the lifetime. It could revolutionize the cultural study of a people so often ignored in favor of Greece or Rome. But, in the wrong hands, it would be little more than a trinket for the Black Market.
"Alright, Doc, hand the thing over and nobody gets hurt!"
Professor Richard Merrick knew these weren't the right hands in his lab.
"Sharon," Merrick calmly enunciated as he held the hefty amulet in his hand, "get out of here. I'll do what I can to hold them off."
"Sorry, doc. Your bitch stays here!"
The eight thugs moved in as Merricks fiancee made a move to run. As one grabbed her, the professor knew it was past time for words. Shoving the amulet into his shirt for safe-keeping, he grabbed a chair and swung.
Richard Merrick was a fabulous archaeologist, but a horrible fighter. He missed entirely, and the crook's fist connected -- hard. As he flew back, the breath went from him. He saw how Sharon struggled as he lay there. There had to be something he could...
AUGH!
Merrick's chest felt on fire as tried to stand up. Grabbing it, he felt something hard. How?
"Alright, doc! Give us the gold, or the lady gets it."
"I'll give you something, alright..."
Merrick smiled as he stood up. Where he had torn at his chest his shirt was ripped, and the amulet was buried into his skin itself. His blood felt on fire, as gold met flesh.
"...courtesy of the God of the Wilde!"
The middle-aged man swung into action. His senses were alive, and his reflexes more so. He kicked and punched like a pro, taking the crooks off guard, and loving every minute of it.
"Meta freak! Waste him!"
Then something happened.
BANG!
It was all so quick. The thief panicking and firing, Sharon's scream as she fell, the rage.
The rage.
The Hunt.
From tiny holes along the edge of the amulet pured wooden branches, like rivulets of oaken blood wrapping themselves around Richard Merrick. Around shod feet formed wooden hooves. Around bloody-knuckled hands formed thorny claws. Across his head draped a helmet of branches and a crown of oaken antlers.
Where had stood a meek archaeologist before now stood, seven feet of blood-soaked wood encircling a heart of shining gold, the Wild Huntsman.
"What -- oh God..." one crook stammered as his last words on this Earth as wood fortified like steel pierced his heart.
As two men foolhardily chose to stand their ground and fire useless guns at their adversary, the remaining five bolted. They would not get far. As they did, the gold runes on the amulet glowed blue with a faintly audible hum.
The hunt is on, the oaken spectre moaned in a voice from nightmare. As he did, the spectral image of five gostly wolves flickerly to life like blue flame and chased down his prey. It was all over in a moment.
As the dead was done, living wood began to crack and tear as it fell off Merrick's body. From the frame of the Wild Huntsman, the archaeologist came tumbling out, his body pierced and bleeding in a hundred places, the amulet lodged in his chest growing cold once more. As he dragged his body over to his now-dead love, only one thought came to Richard Merrick's mind.
"What have I become...?"
End INTERLUDE
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The sun rose high over the mountains, long shadows streched out across the valley. He love it here, every little detail. How the fog would gather around the lake, early in the morning, creaping through the dense woods surounding it. slowly riseing to join its cousins in the sky. Some days he would wake up early just to feel the dew settle around him as he sat on this "porch". Like most of the cliff side, it was covered in large vines twisting around like a pit of snakes in a constant dance. A thick, rich green, moss covered the floor and walls. His home was an intrecate system of small caves that converged in a great cavern. This was were he would hide when the pressures of life started getting to him. Here, over looking his own personal oasis, nothing could reach him. A few times he's thought about bringing someone here. Let them see just how magnificent it really is. He almost asked Z once, but in the end he decided to keep this place for himself. Anyone else would just complecate it. They wouldn't be able to aprecate how the limbs of the trees would sway together in the crisp breeze coming down the mountains. How the stag would prance about defending his territor from the younger bucks, or how in spring time the whole valley would fill with the sweet smell of, bologna?
"what the...?!", Cross exclaimed as he jerked awake. Takeing a moment to let his eyes focus to his suroundings, he found himself lying in an eight by ten cell. As reallity came flooding back, he recalled the events of the last several hours. how security had come and, as they escorted him out the meusim, the smirk on that smug doorman's face. How that neferious bastard took a simple vow of unyeilding wraith and vengence, as a personal threat and had him arested on the spot. He wasn't that worried though, the cops never keep the homeless for more than a day. Most, feelling sorry for them, give them something to eat before sending them back to the street. The stale sandwitch sitting on the bench ment they were ready to set him free.
It was late now, not that it really mattered much, just something that crossed his mind as he walked down the street. A lot of things have crossed his mind over the past year. A lot of things he's had to accept. Some little things, like how it is impossible to get anything without money. How it is almost impossible to get a job without valid identifaction. And, as crazy as it sounds, you can't get a valid I.D. without first having some form of valid I.D. You need a birth certificate to proof you were born. Your standing right in front of them!
A small smile spread across his face as he walked past the park that had been hid home for the last week. No, he thought, not his home. Home was a place were your friends were close by. Were you belong.
It was time to move on now.
As he made his way up the exit ramp, his mind wondered back to the Order. The Old man inpaticular. No matter how much was going on, or how busy he was, he always took the time to come down to the gardends and listen to him. Or tell some insanly funny story that would make him feel better, and show him how things always seemed work out on their own. Cross wondered if anyone else knew what a great sence of humor the Scion really had. He thought about the others too. How Z would hide the fact that she smoked from everyone, traveling lightyears away for a few puffs. But would always let him bum a cigarette, from her. How Graham would always talk ahead of the conversation.
He missed it. The non stop action, the crazy adventures. The fact that at any given moment some world shattering event could take place. He liked being part of something, important.
He stoped there for a moment, under the street sign. He knew sooner or latter that he would find whatever he was looking for. Looking up he read the sign," Amsterdam 200 kilometers. Heh, why not? Couldn't be any worse than the last time" laughing, he continued down the road.
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The light continued to flash red on the small control panel in the wall. Sighing heavily, the man reached up a flipped the switch turning it off. "Montag. Again. These vandals never seem to learn."
He pressed a button on his intercom.
"Yes sir?"
"Carol, mobilize the Raptor Corps. There's another disturbance at Montag Manor."
"Will do, Mr. Kavanaugh."
The intercom went silent as the man leaned back in his chair. He pressed the button again.
"And Carol? Tell them Peter's in charge of this operation."
"Yes sir."
Brendan Kavanaugh leaned back in his chair and smiled. By the morning, his son would either be a complete disgrace, or the hero he had always longed for him to be.
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Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed reclined in Grissom's massive tan leather armchair with a glass of double-malt in his hand. Ozzy Baxter, stretched out on an exorbitantly-expensive leather sofa, held up his nearly-empty glass to the light from the fireplace and mused on the intricate patterns of reflected light cast onto his lap through the bottom of the glass.
"So he let you off with a warning, huh?" Ozzy asked.
"The cop took one look at me and decided not to push the issue," Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed replied with a shrug.
Ozzy chuckled as he sloshed the last remaining bit of whiskey around the bottom of the glass. "I can imagine."
"You might want to be careful," Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed said. "I don't wanna know how much that rug costs."
Ozzy laughed. "You underestimate my catlike prizefighter's reflexes, amigo." He sat up, very slightly. "Almost empty. I could juggle these glasses if I wanted to." He sloshed the mouthful of whiskey around the bottom of the glass. A little dribbled onto his finger. "Oops." He transferred the glass to his other hand.
It slipped.
Ozzy jumped up. "Fuck!" He lurched forward to catch the glass, which tipped over and spilled its contents toward the Persian rug a few inches away.
The glass and its contents froze in midair.
Ozzy looked at the motionless glass, puzzled. The spilled whiskey rose back into the glass, which rotated upright and slowly glided over to the nearby end table.
Ozzy looked at Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed, dumbfounded.
Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed simply pointed to the doorway behind Ozzy.
His face and form still hadn't aged a day. Eternally twentysomething, with the same piercing cerulean gaze and bemused smirk. But his hair and eyebrows were snow white, as white as the suit and shoes he wore. He smiled and nodded. "Ozzy."
"Damn!" Ozzy shook his head. "Where the hell did you come from?"
Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed nodded. "Philsy."
"Hey, Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed," Phil Smith stepped into the room. "Yeah, you would not have wanted to explain that spill to Griss. I once 'overheard' him reflecting on all the history that was made on that rug."
Ozzy raised an eyebrow and looked at Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed, who chuckled and nodded.
"I sort of let myself in," the telepath explained. "Seems to be all the rage today."
"I thought one of the kids turned the security system on," Ozzy said.
Phil smirked. "Who do you think helped Grissom design his security system?"
Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed regarded Phil's hair and clothes quizzically. "New duds. New do. 'Bout time."
Smith ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't have much of a choice about this," he replied. "The clothes are just personal preference."
Ozzy picked up the glass on the end table and examined it curiously, as though he were measuring the number of spilled drops and not finding any. "I see you've still got the touch... so to speak."
Phil shrugged. "So to speak. I can do a few more interesting things these days too." He looked Ozzy over. "I see I'm not the only one with a new look." He turned and observed Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed, puzzled. "Definitely not the only one."
Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed drained his glass. "It seems like a lot of things have changed for a lot of people."
Phil nodded. "And that's what I'm here to talk about. There are some things you need to know-"
He was cut off by a muted crash of shattering porcelain from some other room, followed by angry voices and a distinctively canine growl.
Phil shook his head. "It can wait. I think I'd better see what's going on."
"Don't hurry back," Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed called as the telepath strolled out of the parlor.
Ozzy chuckled. "The more things change..."
"The more they stay the same," Some Guy Who Isn't Grimm Because Grimm Already Went To Bed finished for him as he poured himself another glass. "Want another?"
Last edited by Captain Sammitch; 2006-03-25 7:03 PM.
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The Next Morning...
Phil Smith's arrival was miraculous, at best. At least as far as Ozzy was concerned.
For the past twelve hours...ever since finding themselves in this strange new world...Baxter had convinced himself that they were alone. That Icarus, Adem, Victor, Lykopis, and Edmund were the only ones left. That this was all that remained of the only family he had ever known. That this was the only remaining vestige of Vanguard.
Then, Gaunt had disappeared. Or, had he ever been here in the first place? A question better left for another day, he surmised. Either way, another brick had been taken. Another piece of the foundation of what he was holding onto.
The past.
Adem was becoming more and more distant. Was there something wrong? More than his new speech impediment? Was there something more? It was like he was...fading. Like he simply was becoming less and less interested in everyone around him. He was turning inwards. And, for all the affection he had for his best friend....there wasn't a thing he could do one way or another.
Icarus was dealing with a newfound curse....or was it a blessing? He seemed to be handling it better than Ozzy thought he would. Baxter had made a mental note to get to know Icarus a bit better. He may have previously misjudged this young man. There might be more substance to him than his original impression.
And, blind or not, Victor was as he had ever been. Quiet. Aloof. Seemingly content as the observer. And, as ever, Victor made Ozzy nervous. There had never been anything Baxter could grasp about the man that made him feel comfortable in his presence. But, like it or not, Reilley was one of the family. And you don't toss out your crazy uncle just because he drinks alot...
...or stares at you with blind eyes...
Then there was Lyly. There seemed to be a melancholy to her. As if the burdens of the moment were becoming too much for her to bear. At least, that's how she was at first. It had taken a few hours, but, she seemed to be coming back to her old self. Strong. Regal. Hard.
A bit too hard, sometimes, Baxter believed. There was a vibrant, powerfully emotional woman behind those sad, ancient eyes. Hidden beneath that vest of iron she kept locked around her heart, Lykopis cared far more than she wanted others to believe....more than she seemingly wanted to, herself. Guess that's what happens when you watch a few centuries worth of friends and family fade to dust. Was Vanguard any different? Was she prepared to love them as much as she had before? Was she prepared to watch this family, too, fade to so much dust as the years went on? Again, questions for another time.
So, the night had progressed, and their situation was beginning to set in. Alone in a world they knew nothing about...no friends...no contacts...no allies......hell, even their old enemies probably no longer existed. Or, worse yet, didn't even remember them.
That was the worst part, Baxter believed. No one remembered them. It was bad enough that Vanguard had probably saved the planet, and everyone on it, countless times with absolutely no thanks. No appreciation. And, in turn, had compounded more animosity from various factions throughout the planet. Yeah, that was bad enough. But, it was the name of their game. Metas had never been trusted. probably never would be. And, they could live with that. Ozzy could live with that. No one had ever trusted him, either. No one except these people.
But to not be remembered at all? Or, worse yet, how were they known? Was his ex-wife still out there? Did she remember an Ozzy Baxter? Was there ever one in the first place?
Who was he in this new life?
Questions, questions, questions.... the bald stranger had complained. And he was right. There were alot of questions left to be answered.
But, a few of them had already been revealed.
Grimm....not the one he remembered...but Grimm nonetheless. He had been lead to them. He was back. And, with his appearance, a certain weight seemed to lift. It was then that the first real smiles began to appear. Says something about a new world, doesn't it? When someone as...creepy...as Grimm used to be...when someone like him could be the catalyst for happiness where none had previously existed. It certainly was a new world.
Grimm's entrance had provoked more action among them. More levity. And, more planning. They seemed to be getting their hold on the situation, now. Getting their bearings. And now, with Phil Smith popping up like this, seemingly remembering as they did...things seemed to be getting even better.
There were more of them, now. More family. More Vanguard. And, this of course proved that...if Grimm and Phil were still here, and remembered them....couldn't there be more?
Eleven people remember the world... Prometheus' words echoed in his memory...
Montag Manor
The Kitchen
"...so, with Philsy here, that's eight of us we know remember the old world..." Baxter continued. "...so that leaves....three?"
"Three plus eight does equal eleven, Baxter, yes..." Lykopis drolled.
Yep. She was back to her old self alright.
"Yes. Thank you, your highness. I may be slow, but, I remember some basic math..." Ozzy replied sarcastically.
Grimm chuckled, leaning back at the huge oak table, arms folded. Phil sat next to him, holding a glass of specially brewed ale that Grimm had located.
They had all gathered together at the dinner table. Introductions had been made. And planning had begun.
"My point is...maybe some of the other Vanguardians are out there....maybe they remember too. And, if so, we should find them."
"Mr. Baxter--"
"Ozzy."
"...Ozzy..." Phil continued, with a smile. "...while I think everyone here certainly wants to believe that there are others out there....you can't expect it to be other Vanguardians. I mean, do you know what the odds are of the last three being specifically Vanguardians?"
"{**}))+__)_00..." Adem spoke.
Everyone paused, looking at the alien. He, in turn, simply rolled his eyes, and made the 'move on' gesture with his hands.
"I agree with Smith." Victor suddenly spoke up. "It's highly implausible that it is specifically members of our organization that remember like we do."
"Why?" Ozzy frowned, looking around at everyone. "I mean, so far...here we are!"
He looked back and forth at everyone.
"I think I'm going to have to go with Ozzy on this one..." Grimm commented.
"Why?" Phil asked, turning to look at him.
"Well....for one thing, the one constant among us all is meeting this 'Prometheus' guy..." he shrugged. "....so, I'm thinking he must have something to do with our memories."
Adem...who had been scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, finally slid it forcibly towards Ozzy. Baxter picked up the page...
"The question isn't whether it's plausible...the fact that we are all here should certify that it's a confirmed fact." Baxter read off. "For some unknown reason, Prometheus is freeing the minds of, specifically, Vanguardians."
"Okay, yes...you have made your point." Lykopis agreed. "But, this raises the question....can we believe what he told us? That there are only eleven like us?"
"We have no reason not to, Lyly..." Baxter shook his head. "...and as far as I'm concerned, if that's all we have to go on, then, we go with it."
"Just choose to believe the word of a complete stranger?" Phil asked.
"Until I'm shown something that proves different, yes." Ozzy nodded.
"Got it."
Everyone looked at Icarus, who...until this moment...had his eyes closed. He was now looking up at Lykopis.
She leaned in, folding her hands on the table.
"I...asked Icarus to find out more about us...about our missing friends." she explained to the group. "With his ability to read this...information, as he calls it...I thought this should be the first step in determining where we go from here."
"Good thinking." Grimm agreed.
She looked at Icarus.
"What have you found?"
"Not as much as you would want." The young man looked a bit worn out now, as if the strain had been considerable. "Fragments here, pieces there. I've tried scouring every corner of the internet...at least the parts I could access in short order..."
He took a drink of water, leaning back in his chair to look at everyone.
"I can find no mention of Vanguard." he stated evenly. "Not in reference to any of us, or any group we could have belonged to."
Everyone stared at him, not sure they could believe their ears.
"No...Vanguard......at all?" Phil asked again with worried eyes.
"Nope. Nowhere. No La Perdita. No European branch. Nothing." Icarus continued. "And, it gets worse...."
Ozzy cocked an eyebrow. "Worse?"
"There's no EPS. No Mandelovia. No MBL. No Strikeforce. Absolutely no grouping of metas......anywhere...."
"There are still metas, right?" Ozzy asked.
"Yes, there are definitely metas out there. Plenty of reports of them." he said, pausing and looking down at the table. "...and one report in particular you should all hear..."
He paused again, taking a deep breath...
"Drake Marshall, the Nightwatch vigilante....the greatest meta hero America had ever known......was killed protecting his city...three years ago." Icarus explained.
"Who." Ozzy demanded with cold eyes. "We know he's dead. Who killed him?"
"I...there was no picture...but, it's a 'supervillian', if you'll forgive the term....goes by the name of 'The Fist'." Icarus explained. "Big time weapons dealer and con man. That's all I can get on him."
"Where is he?" Lykopis asked. "Did they get him?"
"Still at large." Icarus said. "Wanted by every nation on the planet for some crime or another."
Ozzy sighed with a heavy heart, falling back into his chair. Drake had been his idol for years. A true hero in his eyes.
And if it was the last thing he did....Ozzy would find this bastard. Find the man that took his hero.
"What about Tommy?" Lykopis asked.
"Thomas Foxe...." Icarus began, 'reading' aloud. "....died of a heroin overdose seven years ago."
"Oh god." Baxter mumbled, resting his mouth in his palm.
"Yeah....." Icky nodded, a mortified expression crossing his features. "....poor old Tommy..."
Everyone remained quiet for a moment. It wasn't so much that they were paying their respects for the dead. But, more that they were trying to let it all sink in.
Two of their own. Gone.
"What about my team?" Phil finally asked. "Bri? Danny? What about those guys?"
"I can't find much on them yet..." Icarus shook his head. "...understand guys, it's not like I can reference a keyword for Vanguard. I'm having to search individual instances for individual people. Do you know how many people are named Daniel Hearn in the world?"
"Maybe they're still on La Perdita?" Grimm offered to Phil. "Maybe they just live on the island, or something..."
"No, I doubt that..." Icarus interrupted. "...I mean...I doubt anyone lives on that island."
"What?" Phil frowned.
"The volcano there erupted nine years ago, reducing the entire island to a barren rock...." he said. "....at least that's all I've been able to find on it..."
".......oh......." Phil muttered, looking downtrodden.
"What is it they say?" Grimm said, holding his ale up a bit. "You can never go home again?"
No one said anything for quite a while....
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The crisp air in the south of Spain breezed softly across the tall grass surrounding Montag Manor. Somewhere off in the distance, a magpie warbles a morning tune as the sun peeks lazily over the horizon, as though seeing whether today was a day worth getting out of bed for.
He would not be disappointed if he chose to stay up this day.
___________________________________
Inside the castle, the seven remaining members of the group that had been known in another time and another place as 'Vanguard' stood in silence. For the most part, they were incapable of speech at this point. The magnitude of change the last few hours had brought them came crashing down on their heads like a tsunami as Icarus had 'read off' his discoveries to them.
Drake Marshall. Nightwatch. Drax. Dead.
Tommy Foxe. Dead.
La Perdita. Base. Home. Gone.
It was Phil Smith that decided to break the silence. "So... what next?"
"Honestly," Ozzy said, "I don't know. Any number of things might work. I mean, where can we go? La Perdita's gone. There's no more Mandelovia. Nothing..."
"))(@&#$?" Adem chimed in, his hand dramatically poised on his chin.
"Oh, for God's sake, man, just write it down!" Ozzy said, holding out his hand to intercept Adem's note as it landed in his metallic hand.
"What about Munich?" Ozzy read aloud. Then, looking back at Adem, "What about it?"
"William," Lykopis said. "The brownstone. The European branch."
"Weren't you just listening?" Icarus chimed in. "There is no Vanguard here. At all. What makes you think there's anything in Munich worth looking for?"
"It was merely a suggestion," Lykopis said. "There is no need to be hostile..."
"I'm not being hostile!" Icarus countered, raising his voice. "I'm just saying that we need to think about this rationally!"
"Children!" called Ozzy in a loud voice, speaking over the two just as Lykopis was opening her mouth for rebuttal.
Instead, the Amazon shot Ozzy the dirtiest look in the history of dirty looks and, with a voice that would give an Eskimo a chill, said, "What did you just call me?"
Ozzy looked momentarily abashed... but only momentarily. Within seconds, he had regained his composure. "I just call 'em like I see 'em, your highness," he said curtly, turning his attention from the optical 'death rays' being bored into the back of his metal-coated skull.
"There may not be anything worth seeing in Munich..." he stated, "but that doesn't necessarily mean that I want to abandon what may be our best lead so far."
"Okay," Grimm spoke up, shrugging his heavy shoulders. "So... how do we get there, genius?"
Ozzy paused, biting his lower lip - a metal ting sound emitting as a result. "I don't know," he admitted after a moment. "It's not like we can just hop a train or anything. Not without selling a few of old man Montag's artifacts first..."
"Sorry to interrupt," Victor Reilly interrupted, his head cocked slightly to the side, "but I think getting to Germany is likely to be the least of our worries at the moment."
Everyone turned a confused expression toward Victor. "And what is that, Vic?" Ozzy asked.
At that moment, as if on cue, a sonic blast dropped the seven assembled to their knees, each clutching the sides of their heads with agony. Stained glass windows shattered. A fifteenth-century Ming vase on the mantle crumbled. And several men clad in black repelled into the room through every possible opening, swarming by the dozens.
A short chirping sound later and the sonic bombardment had stopped. Looking up, the members of Vanguard found themselves at gunpoint... or gunpoints actually. Well over five dozen semi-automatic machine guns were trained on them from several impossible angles.
"Breathe wrong and you die," a voice from just behind them said.
Slowly, the seven turned, coming face to face with...
"Grissom!" Phil said, a huge smile spreading across his face.
The blonde Brit cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head. "Who the hell are you?" he asked. "And what the fuck are you doing in my house?"
Ozzy leaned his head forward. "You mean... you don't know us?"
"Should I?" Grissom asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Well," Ozzy said, "we know you..."
"Oh, bloody brilliant, mate!" Grissom said, rolling his eyes. "You know the richest man on the planet! Good for fucking you! I wager you to find seven people on this fucking planet who don't know me! That'd be the biggest surprise!"
"So..." Phil said, "you don't know us? At all?"
"Are you daft, son?" Montag asked. "Did your mummy drop you on your head too much as a child? Or do you just like to repeat what the big boys say so you feel like part of the conversation?"
Phil's eyes narrowed. Ozzy placed a hand on his shoulder. Looking back, Phil saw Ozzy shake his head and mouth the word, 'don't.' Phil nodded shortly, but definitely did not look happy about it.
"Now, as this is my house, I'll be asking the questions," Montag said, arms behind his back. "If I don't like your answers, you die. One snap of my fingers," Montag gestured a three-fingered hand for emphasis, "and I will have found a great source of fertilizer for the greenhouse out back...
"First things first - who are you and what are you doing in my house?"
"We're Vanguard," Phil spoke up, his voice clipped. "Or at least... at least we were..."
"...did you say 'Vanguard'?" Montag asked, pursing his lips in thought.
"I didn't stutter," Phil said angrily.
Ozzy sighed. "Shut it, Smith!"
"Oh, no," Grissom said, narrowing his eyes. "Let him keep talking. His brains would look good splattered on that tapestry on the far wall!"
Phil tensed a bit, now looking a bit more hurt than angered. The look of confusion on his face was almost heartbreaking for Ozzy. Before him, Phil saw his best friend berating him, threatening death... Ozzy knew how much that had to hurt.
"You know a bald git, then, I take it?" Grissom asked. "Cigarettes, long coat...?"
"Prometheus," Ozzy said. "I wouldn't say that we know him... but he's the reason we're all here..."
Grissom's face curled into a sneer. "So he's your ringleader, eh? Doing his bidding, are you, breaking into a stately mansion owned by the world's wealthiest man and owner of the most efficient global security network? What are you, then? Some kind of suicide squad?"
"No..." Ozzy said, "we're just people with too many questions trying to find answers..."
"And you thought you'd find 'em here?" Grissom raged, spittle flying from his mouth, glistening as it hit Ozzy's chrome face. "Well, I'm sorry to say it, but you are sadly fucking mistaken!"
"...fuck this..."
No sooner had the words escaped Victor Reilly's mouth than the man vaulted into the air, turning a somersault and landing directly behind Grissom Montag. Quickly reaching out a hand, Victor's fingers enclosed around a Bowie knife attached to Grissom's belt, which the assassin unsheathed, pressing the blade against Montag's Adam's apple.
The whole action took exactly five-point-three-nine seconds.
"Okay, you limey bastard," Reilly's cool, even voice droned in Montag's ear, "I'm calling the shots now. Disband the troops. Tell them to leave. Or I swear there will be fucking murders... starting with yours."
The look on Grissom's face was more aggravated than fearful. Looking out at his men, he spoke to the one standing directly opposite him. "Mr. Kavanaugh, redeploy the troops to the far eastern side. Set up a loose perimeter - surveillance only - and, no matter what you may see or hear, do not engage. Are we clear?"
"But, sir..." the man who was obviously Kavanaugh responded.
"Do. Not. Engage," Grissom said, arching an eyebrow. "Understood?"
A pause. Then, Kavanaugh nodded. "Sir," was all he said as he waved an arm in a militaristic fashion. Less than thirty seconds later, eight individuals remained in the kitchen of Montag Manor.
"Well?" Grissom asked, looking around at the faces surrounding him. "What ransom are you looking for?"
"No ransom," Ozzy said, shaking his head. "No money, no jewels... though we do like the house." Grissom sneered. "All we're looking for is passage to Munich."
Grissom blinked. "That's it?"
"Along with any help or influence you can provide," Ozzy said with a shrug. "We're hoping to find some answers there..."
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Victor Reilly turned the knife he had pulled from Grissom Montag's belt over and over in his hand. He realised that the cold spot he had seen in the small of Montag's back could easily have been a mobile phone or coin purse. In which case, he probably would have gotten his teammates killed.
Victor wondered briefly whether he should feel guilty about not actually caring whether or not that happened. He then remembered that he wasn't capable of feeiling guilt, and reverted back to his usual status of detached observer.
"And Mister... Reilly, is it?" Montag asked.
"Yeah," Reilly said, keeping his head forward and not bothering to turn it toward the speaker. There was no real point if he couldn't see them.
"May I have my knife back? I need it. For slicing apples and such."
Victor paused for a moment, weighing up whether or not to actually give it back. He decided that a man of Montag's resources was best to keep as an ally, tactically speaking. At least, as much of an ally as is possible after breaking into a man's house and liquor cabinet.
Victor threw the knife across the room towards Montag. It stopped in mid air inches away from the man's face, held in place by Phil Smith's telekinesis.
"Sorry. I'm recently blind, you see," Reilly said.
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Grissom Montag strode down the red cobblestone pathway, leading to the east area of his estate. Victor kept in pace just behind him, keeping in time with the footsteps in front of him.....and Montag's calm heartbeat. If Grissom reserved any fear or trepidation for the moment, he certainly didn't show it. His oft-normal air of arrogance and elitism held fast, keeping his eyes sharp...and his nose a bit higher in the air. This was not Grissom Montag. At least, not the one they remembered.
Lykopis, Phil, Grimm, and Icarus followed suit a few feet behind, the morning sun glowing over the horizon of the glittering ocean far out behind them.
"Shouldn't one us be keeping a guard on Grissom?" Phil half-whispered, striding next to Grimm. "I mean...you know...someone besides the blind guy?"
Grimm glanced at Phil.
"I didn't see anyone else taking command of the situation..." he replied. "...and I'd watch it with the 'blind guy' cracks. He can hear you, you know..."
"Phff." Phil dismissed. "...no he can't..."
Victor's head tilted slightly around....just enough to catch Phil's eye. Then, resumed it's blind stare ahead, eyes hidden under the black bandana.
Phil went very quiet.
Further back at the doorway of the estate, Ozzy had paused, talking with Adem...
"Here?" he asked again. "You're staying here?"
Adem nodded once again.
"Um. Okay, man. If that's what you want..." Baxter shrugged. "...we...we could probably use your calm brain with us, though....just so you know..."
Adem just smiled.
Ozzy finally nodded with a sigh.
"Okay, just...stay out of sight, man." he said. "I think this staff of Montag's will try and secure the place after we've gone. Stay hidden."
Adem stared at Ozzy for a moment. And...for just the briefest of seconds...it looked like Adem was showing a sincere...affection...for his friend. Was it a trick of the light? Or did Adem actually take Baxter's concern to heart?
He handed Ozzy a piece of folded paper. The top said: 'Don't read until you're in the air.'
Baxter opened his mouth to question, but, Adem quickly held up another piece of paper that read 'Trust me, Ozzy'.
Baxter finally nodded with a small smile.
"Okay." he said, turning to catch up with the group. "See you when we get back."
"Be cool, man..."
Adem watched him walk away. Then, after a moment, took time to look around at the beautiful morning that was beginning.
Another beautiful day on Earth... Adem thought, turning and walking back inside the manor.
A sleek Concorde...obviously refitted with a special hydrolic landing gear...sat gleaming in the morning sun, just off to the east of the estate. The group approached it, the landing gear beginning to lower on cue.
Suddenly, the crack of sniper fire rang out in the air, everyone freezing in place....including Montag.
There...just to the right of Victor's head...a small spinning slug of metal hovered in the air...halted dead in place.
Even as the slug fell lifelessly to the ground, Phil checked his own nose with a finger.
"Hmmm...no nosebleed this time...I think I'm getting better at this stuff...." he commented.
Grissom, his face contorted with extreme irritation, scanned the rocky range of hills and precipaces across the estate. He stopped, spotting the squad he had ordered to hold position. It looked like the head of the unit was yelling frantically at one of the snipers.
Grissom wrinkled his lips, reaching into his coat pocket...
"Anh!" Victor quipped, clamping onto his wrist.
Montag cocked an eyebrow, slowly revealing only a cell phone in his grasp. He stared at Victor briefly, Reilley finally releasing his grip.
Grissom hit a speed dial button. After a second, he mumbled something into the phone, clipping it closed and sliding it back into his pocket.
Another gunshot suddenly pierced the air, as the Vanguardians saw the head of the squad put a bullet into the sniper's head, killing him instantly.
"....I told them not to engage..." Grissom commented to the stares of disbelief from the Vanguardians.
The group boarded the plane with no more incident, Phil making his way up to the cockpit. The pilot stared with wide, nervous eyes as the stranger entered.
"Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you." he offered calmly. "I just need to borrow your seat, if you don't mind."
The pilot gave up his seat to Phil, Icarus escorting him off the plane. Once the door was sealed, Smith fired the turbines, the jet's systems coming smoothly online.
"...you know how to fly this thing?" Icarus asked, closing the cockpit door behind him, and taking the co-pilot seat.
"I can fly anything..." Phil replied, hitting a few switches, as Icarus put on his headset.
"Know what you mean..." Icky nodded, hitting a few more of the switches for him.
Meanwhile, back in the wide, expensively furnished cabin, Victor and Grimm took a seat on either side of Montag, the irritation of such obviously catching up with him.
"What?? Do you expect me to bail the fuck out at three-thousand feet?" he griped.
"With you, anything is possible.........jackass..." Grimm commented, fastening his seatbelt.
Lykopis frowned, sitting in the seat across from them.
"Seatbelt?" she asked. "You? Really?"
"Who's flying this thing?" Grimm responded with a drollness.
Lykopis stared at him blankly for a moment. Then, fastened her own seatbelt. She glanced over next to her.
"Okay, Ozzy?"
Baxter sat perfectly rigid, hands clamping the edges of the armrests, eyes locked perfectly straight ahead at nothing.
"Fine. Fine." he responded, as he tried controlling his breathing.
"Want to hold my hand?" Lykopis asked, offering her palm.
"No. No, I'm fine. Really. Fine." he repeated with the exact same tone, still looking straight ahead.
The plane lurched a bit as it began its run for take-off. Ozzy immediately grabbed Lyly's hand, squeezing it in an iron grip.
Lykopis squinted slightly from the pressure, looking at Grissom.
"...umm...do you have any alcohol available?" she asked, bobbing her head towards the terrified Baxter.
"I have only the best liquor and wine on board. Do you have seven-thousand dollars for the bottle?" he replied dryly. "No? Didn't think so..."
She scowled a bit, wondering if her foot could reach his groin from across the small table seperating them.
The jet was airborne within two minutes, beginning its initial climb, everyone quiet with a slight nervous energy.
Baxter breathed in through his nose....out through his mouth. In through his nose....out through his mouth....
"Fuck." he breathed in. "Fuck." he breathed out.
This repeated itself for a little while. He suddenly remembered the note Adem had given him. With a concerted effort, he let go of Lyly's poor hand, and pulled the note free. Opening it, it read, very simply:
"Good-bye, my friend."
Ozzy stared at the note for a great length of time. And...although he would never admit to a soul....he strained to keep a tear in place.
After a few minutes, he replaced the note quietly, and with a deep sigh, resumed gripping the armrests. The tear fought its way to the crest of his eye, but, never dropped...
".........................fuck........................" he choked out with a whisper.
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Grissom Montag had a brain for planning, but even the best schemes stray. He had not predicted that he would be in one of the fastest planes on the planet with a motley group that had broken into his house only to demand passage to Germany. He leaned over to the fridge, pulled out a chilled glass, and proceeded to pour himself a single glass of wine in front of the others. "What do you daft buggers expect to find in Munich, anyways?"
Lykopis could only shrug. "Answers, really. Something very important has been taken away from us."
She wanted to be very careful with her words. There was no privacy in this cabin, so there was no way for them to avoid Montag for very long. On the other hand, communication had to begin eventually. It was just a matter of balancing what Montag needed to know in order to help them.
Lucky for the team, Lykopis's tanned legs, dark hair, and regal bearing did give her an advantage over Montag that the others didn't. She rearranged her legs and brushed a loose strand of hair back. "That is a 1899, is it not? From the Orvieto vineyard, judging by the color. You were right about stocking the plane with only the best." She paused a moment to make sure he was listening. "I think I have about eight bottles left after last year's Midsummer's Ball."
It worked. Montag pulled out a second chilled glass and poured for Lykopis. "You have a good eye for the finer things in life. So what's a high-class mynx like you hanging around with characters like these?"
Lykopis took a sip before answering. "I ask myself that all the time." She set the glass down in front of Ozzy. Lucky for him, Montag was too distracted to notice. "So, this Prometheus...you have met this man?"
"That uppity little git. I don't know how he got into my office." He took another sip. "I still think you're on his payroll, you sneaky tart." Lykopis frowned. Looks like Montag was being just as cautious as she was. "What, did you expect me to warm up to a little high-class flirting? You're no Vivian-fecking-Leigh, so stop with the simple charm and get to the fecking business."
Oh, I wonder what sort of noise you'd make if I kicked you down south! Still, a lady must keep her cool. Lykopis looked towards the cockpit, where Phil was seated with Icarus. Like Phil, she had her doubts on Prometheus. "I am sorry you think that way. He has made contact with us, yes."
"Lyly," said Ozzy, leaning towards her. Lykopis was fraternizing with a possible threat, and that was making the plane ride even worse.
"We need answers from him," she said softly. She turned towards Montag. "And like it or not, you need answers from us."
Victor and Grimm shifted in their seats at the same time, reminding Montag of who was in charge. He seemed insulted at the very idea of these characters in his private jet. "Alright, fair enough, lass. Prometheus approached me recently. Gave me some sort of coded message that I don't understand." He tapped on a pocket, where the paper was folded and safe. "So what's your story?"
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Elsewhere.
The doctor pressed the 'record' button on his cassette recorder and sat it neatly on his desk.
"I'm keeping a record of all this just in case. Just in case what? Well, in case I die or something. Or I become involved in a seventeen car pile up and lose all my ability to talk, or write, or tango.
"Where to start? Well, at the start I guess.
"With Sean. Sean was a normal kid. Loved being outside... running, playing frisbee, I don't know. Whatever kids do when they're outside.
"When he was fourteen, Sean developed an apparent metahuman ability. He could run. Fast. Faster than it seemed possible for a human to run."
The doctor paused from his note-taking for a moment as he approached a bookshelf on the other side of the room. He reached a hand up and pulled down a few old copies of science magazines. He found his own face staring back at him from the cover of the first one, alongside the caption 'An Exclusive Interview With the World's Foremost Metahuman Researcher'. The doctor laughed to himself.
"Sean's body couldn't handle the strain. Within a year of developing his metahuman ability, he had broken nearly every bone and torn nearly every tendon in his body.
Within two years, he had experienced three massive heart attacks.
Within three years, he was dead."
The doctor went silent, and put the magazines back on the bookshelf. His gaze moved across the enormous shelf and lingered on a photo of himself and Sean, arms draped over each others' shoulders at one of Sean's sporting meets.
The doctor had been very proud of his son. He had naively thought it a blessing when Sean's power manifested itself.
"Sadly, Sean is not the only case," He continued. "There's the girl who was rapt to learn that she could fly, only to lose her ability in mid air and fall to her death. The man who could turn invisible, only to become completely blind when light passed directly through his eyes and be hit by a truck. The list goes on...
"These metahuman 'powers'... these 'abilities'... are a curse. The genetic abnormalities that cause them, whether man-made or simply a natural mutation, are a disease.
"These metahumans need to be cured. We need to figure out what causes these curses in each individual subject and somehow reverse the effect.
"Some metahumans will consider this an attack. They don't realise the harm that is being done to them and by extension humanity through the application of their powers. And so they must be cured by force, the source of their freakish abilities studied and removed. Or at least neutralised.
"I know that this will make me some enemies. I know that not all metahumans will take kindly to losing what they perceive makes them special. I am well aware of the risks.
"So this is why I'm keeping this record. Just in case. I know I may not survive this."
Doctor Ian McGregor walked back across the room and pressed 'stop'.
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The flight had taken around two hours, the supersonic jet landing without incident at Grisgot, Munich's international airpot. Grissom having ordered a limo to meet them on the tarmac, the motley group was able to bypass the normal security measures of entering the country, and continue their journey downtown.
"It must be nice not having to present a passport wherever you go..." Baxter commented.
"It has its uses." Montag replied curtly, sitting...rather cramped...across from him between Victor and Grimm.
"Well, don't worry...our use for you is almost at an end, Mr. Montag." Lykopis added, watching the city speed by outside.
Grissom gave a dark smile.
"And then what, my dear?" he asked dyly. "You dispose of me?"
"Yes."
Everyone paused, looking over at Victor. He continued staring straight ahead. "What?"
Lykopis just turned her attention to Montag.
"We are not murderers, Mr. Montag....unlike some people." she addressed him in kind.
"Heh....how small your minds must be to house such naive morality..." he dismissed. "....murder is killing someone who doesn't deserve it..."
No one said anything, Lykopis turning her attention back outside.
Up front, Icarus manned the wheel with Phil in the passenger seat.
"You know the speed limit, right?" Phil asked, Icarus speeding along his way.
"What, are you my mother?" Sidewinder grimaced.
"Do you want to be pulled over?" Phil retorted. "'Oh, hey officer...what? Oh yes, this multi-billionaire in here with us is our hostage. Is that a problem?'..."
"Listen, have you ever brushed your teeth while pulling six-G's? No? Didn't think so...."
"Amateur..." Phil sighed.
"Oh piss off, Stringfellow Hawk..." Icarus sniped.
"...who?" Phil frowned.
Icarus glanced back and forth between him and the road.
"Stringfellow Hawk...you know....Airwolf? The badass helicoper?" he asked incredulously. "TV show...back in the 80's?"
Phil looked straight ahead in thought.
"Jan-Michael Vincent?"
"Yeah! And Ernest Borgnine...remember?"
Phil scrunched his mouth in further thought.
"Wouldn't I be Archangel, then?"
Icarus paused, his eyes searching the back of his mind.
"...what?"
"The guy in the white suit....he was called Archangel..." Phil replied. "...Jan-Micahel Vincent was Stringfellow Hawk..."
Icarus continued to stare straight ahead.
Phil continued to stare over at him.
This went on for another moment or so.
"....piss off...." Icky finally breathed.
Five minutes later, the limo came to a stop in front of Paragon's Munich offices. But...it wasn't, was it? The brickwork was the same. The doors where they should be. But, something wasn't right. Too many windows?
The Vanguardians stepped out of the posh ride, surveying the building in front of them. Lykopis looked it up and down, a growing concern beginning to creep over her.
"Well...I guess we should check inside....see if William is even here..." she commented, pulling a shawl from Montag Manor over her back-scabbard. "...everyone hide their weapons..."
"What about him?" Victor asked, Grissom still sitting inside the limo.
Lykopis looked back at the smug man inside the limo.
"We bring him with us..."
"What?" Grimm frowned. "That's stupid."
"You have a better suggestion?" she asked the hulk of a man.
"I'll stay with Montag...don't know how well my shiny bod will go over with the public, anyway."Ozzy assured them, glancing around at stares from the street sidewalks.
"As will I." Victor added.
"Okay, fine." Lyly nodded, Ozzy and Victor climbing back into the ride.
"Just us three, now, smiley..." Baxter grinned from across Montag's seat.
"Oh........joy....." he drolled.
Lykopis, Grimm, Phil, and Icarus made their way through the front entrance of the building.
"So..." Phil began, his voice lowering as they entered the foyer of what looked to be a lobby. "...did anyone think to call ahead? You know, just to see if he's here?"
"I tried." Icky replied. "The old number is wrong, and I couldn't find another listing..."
A young woman sat at a huge counter that ran from one end of the room to the other, her head down busy with paperwork.
"....Penny?" Icky began, his eyes widening.
The woman looked up. It wasn't her.
"I'm sorry? Can I help you?" she asked, beginning to take in these strange people in front of her.
"Yes...." Lykopis half-smiled. "...we're here to see William Paragon..."
Outside....
"...so I said, 'Why should I pay for the whole hour?', at which point this chick turns to me and says...get this...---"
Grissom's phone suddenly began chirping, cutting Ozzy off.
"Oh, the wonder of small miracles..." Grissom sighed sardonically, reaching for the phone.
Victor glanced in his direction as he did so, but, simply conceded to letting him answer.
"Montag." Grissom stated evenly in the phone. "What? Yes....yes, I know. reschedule it for Tuesday. Tell them I'm...."
He paused, Victor still staring in his general direction.
"....tell them I'm tied up right now....yes, that's right..." Grissom said. "Ah, Miss Jovanka, while I've got you, connect me to office 737.......yes, thank you..."
He paused, waiting for the line, looking up at Ozzy and Victor.
"Shareholders meeting..." he explained simply.
Back inside....
"Bought out?" Lykopis asked. "What do you mean he was bought out?"
"I'm sorry, m'am..." the receptionist explained innocently. "...William Paragon sold this firm years ago."
"Sold it....to who?" Icarus asked.
The phone suddenly chirped, the receptionist holding up a finger to the group.
"Montag Industries, how may I direct your call?"
Lykopis' eyes widened..
"Dieses ist Grissom Montag, Ich bin außerhalb Ihres Bürohauses im Augenblick....Ebin Alarm, den die Behörden gefallen..." the voice stated evenly.
The receptionist paused, her mouth open a bit...
"Die Leute, die gerade gekommenes Innere haben, sind Terroristen, rufen Sie die Polizei jetzt an."
The phone suddenly went dead.
In the limo...
"Victor?!" Ozzy asked.
Montag grimaced, Victor clutching his hand so tightly that the cell phone was cutting into the skin.
"...I speak German..." he stated very evenly to Grissom.
Montag smiled through gritted teeth.
Back inside...
"Montag Industries??" Grimm in disbelief.
"Ummm...one moment, please..." the receptionist said very nervously to the group in front of her, pressing a few switches on her phone.
Lykopis studied her. The receptionist's fertive glancing....back and forth between them. The sudden look of panic.
Something was wrong.
"Dringlichkeit des Niveaus eins." she spoke into the phone, before hanging it up.
She turned with a faux pleasantness to the Vanguardians.
"If y-you'll have a seat..." she offered, clearing her throat a bit, and motioning towards the lobby sofas. "....I'll see if my manager can help you w-with your--"
"It's a trap." Phil suddenly stated.
"Everyone out!" Lykopis barked, the four hurrying for the door.
As they were running, Phil noticed the security cameras following their movements...
Outside...
"ARGH!!" Grissom yelped in furious anger.
"REILLEY!" Baxter barked, grappling with Victor's clench around Montag's arm. "ENOUGH!"
"He's called the authorities." Victor replied, still calm and cool. "We haven't much time."
As if on cue, sirens drifted in the background, getting closer.
Ozzy jumped out of the limo, just as the other four were running down the office steps...
"They're coming!" Ozzy and Lykopis said at exactly the same time to each other.
"What the fuck do we do?!" Baxter asked, looking down the street at the speeding police cars heading for them.
"We need to get out of here...NOW!" Phil yelled.
"STOPPEN SIE, WO SIE SIND! BEWEGEN SIE NICHT!!!"
Everyone jerked around to twelve security guards pouring out of the office building with guns drawn. Just as this was happening, four police cars screeched to a speeding halt, beginning to cordone off access to the street. Innocent civilins began scurrying from the area, as three more came around the corner down the street.
"Ah fuck." Baxter sneered, he...as with the rest of them...watching as they were being surrounded on all sides by the authorities.
"AUS DEN GRUND! JETZT! TUN SIE ES!" the officers were yelling, guns all pointed in their direction.
"Nein! Nein, there's been a misunderstanding!" Phil tried to reason with the surrounding officers.
Victor suddenly reached in, grabbing Grissom by the collar, and whipped him out. Held in front of the man like a shield, Reilley pulled his own pistol, pressing it against Montag's temple.
"Or....not..." Phil sighed with a roll of his eyes, flapping his hands by his side.
"Order them to back off. Now." he stated cooly in the man's ear.
"Fuck. You." Grissom replied with a smile.
"Victor!" Lykopis yelled. "No! This is only going to make it worse!"
"You should listen to your pretty little girl..." Montag breathed. "....you kill me...you think they won't open fire?"
Victor's upper lip sneered a bit.
"BEFREIEN SIE IHRE GEISEL, ODER WIR ÖFFNEN FEUER!" the main officer yelled.
Twenty-seven police officers.
Six Vanguardians.
"Okay.....what the fuck do we do?" Ozzy asked...
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Back on the main street, the authorities were swarming, cordoning off side alleys and stopping traffic. Ten more squad cars had arrived on the scene, and Interpol was just beginning to get involved. Many questioned people on the street, while others were conducting interviews with Montag's office staff.
Suddenly, a single motorcycle roared past, flying by at over seventy-miles-and-hour. The police all began to scramble as the cycle bypassed their barriers. But, the Interpol agents began to calm them, chattering explanations in the native dialect.
One of the policemen sneered, looking off at the motorcycle roaring in the distance...
"...fucking prämiejägers..." he mumbled.
The cycle cruised faster and faster, roaring with a jerk as it shifted into the next gear. The single rider was a thin-framed woman, a black helmet hiding her features. Clad in a tight-fitting brown leather jacket, her posture remained leveled and narrow towards the handlebars. Black jeans tucked neatly into black boots hugged the sides of the bike, even as the back tire began to scream with a hard right. The bike banked, and half-jumped into a narrow alley, flying with abandon.
The chase was on again.
Meanwhile...the Vanguardians, and their new ally, continued a quick pace down one of the back alleys of the city.
"Why the fuck are we caring this tard with us?" Grimm asked, thumbing towards the unconscious Grissom. "He's only going to slow us down."
"I agree." Baxter nodded. "We need to loose the baggage, and get out of sight."
Lykopis looked at Victor, still carrying the limp figure over his shoulder.
"Victor, they may be right." she began. "We may want to--"
The sudden growl of engine pistons cut her off, as everyone jerked their attention towards the back end of the long, narrow alley. A black motorcycle was suddenly bearing down on them, roaring faster and faster.
Lykopis eyes narrowed, as she quickly ripped her sword from the backscabbard, bringing it to bear. The motorcycle was coming closer and closer....increasing speed....with no indication of stopping.
Suddenly, the female rider revved the engines a final time, and, in one motion, backflipped straight off the back.
Lyly's eyes flew wide...
"BREAK!" she barked, flinging herself against the alleywall, the loose motorcycle screaming past.
Grimm did a squat-and-jump, his massive legs vaulting straight up....Icarus and Phil jointly tackled Merrick to the side...and Victor tossed Grissom, quickly jumping up into a mid-air split, the cycle roaring past and under them all...............except for Ozzy, whom it slammed straight into, sending he and the machine into an uncontrolled slide right down the center of the alleyway.
In the seconds this had taken place, the rider landed square on her nimble feet, pulling twin uzi's from behind her back, and bringing them to bear....
...Grimm's feet slammed into the ground as he landed, Victor also hitting the ground in front of him....
"Victor--DUCK NOW!" Grimm shouted, bullets beginning to whine from the guns.
Reilley had no more been on the ground for a second, before he was flinging himself behind a garage bin. Metal slugs bit and spat at Grimm's chest with no effect, as the giant launched down the alleyway.
The rider continued firing as Grimm got closer and closer, bullets beginning to richochet dangerously close. Grimm rared a fist back, throwing it around to take her head off. The cat-like rider jerked her upper torso back just enough for the fist to whiz right past her helmet visor. Dropping the guns, she quickly grabbed Grimm wrist and shoulder, and using the apex of his swing, slammed him onto his back.
She had no more done this when she had to jerk back once more, but too this time too late. The blade of Lyly's sword slashed straight across the front of her helmet, breaking the visor. The rider's head snapped to the side from the force of the strike, turning her body to continue to motion with a fluid grace. By the time she had twisted all the way around, she ripped the broken helmet from her head. Grimm jerked back up only to meet the helmet shattering against head, as she backhanded him with it.
Stopping her spin with a single foot planted against the wall, she lunged back away from a second blade strike. That's when Lykopis saw the single, long thin katana blade being unsheathed from the rider's back. It came out, and across with such skill and motion, Lykopis had to take a single step back to avoid a cut.
The rider immediately ran forward, jumping off Grimm as he once again tried to sit up, her foot slamming his head back into the pavement. She came down with a few more swings at Lykopis, both women meeting blades with even cracks of metal.
They sparred back and forth for a moment, the blades flying too fast for anyone to really see. It was during these brief seconds that Lykopis could finally make out a clear face. The rider was definitely female. Quite striking, with high cheekbones, and nimble features. Her skin, an albino white, was a stark contrast to what appeared to be a flash of dull, reddish eyes, and obviously-dyed spikey hair of blue and orange streaks.
This mystery woman faked a lunge, and Lyly immediately picked up a specific style of Akido in her movements and stance. Their blades met a few more times, before they both halted with their swords locked against each other.
"....very nice...." Lykopis nodded. Then, with a quick motion, Lyly simply twisted her wrist, forcing the sword from the rider's grasp.
Lykopis sword now sat perfectly edged against this woman's throat, as the only sound was that of their panting breaths.
"....now that I have your attention..." Lyly began. "...would you care to tell me why you're attacking us..."
The rider stared silently at her, briefly looking at everyone assembling behind Lykopis. The entire fight had taken no more than two minutes, and most of them weren't even sure what had happened.
Grimm rose up behind the rider....pissed...off...
The woman suddenly jerked backwards from Lyly blade, quickly pulling a .357 Magnum from her belt, and, in one quick motion, spun and shoved it at Grimm.....who caught her wrist....
....but not before she had shoved the barrel straight into his mouth....
"Stop." the woman finally spoke. "All of you."
Lykopis' eyes narrowed with irritation, motioning for everyone behind her to halt.
"Now..." the woman began. "...I know that big ugly here looks tough....and he's got to be to stop a few hundred bullets on that building he calls a chest..."
Grimm stood there, still grasping the woman's wrist, but, with her finger on the trigger, he wasn't moving.
"...but, I have my doubts about his tonsils deflecting a .357..." she continued.
She looked back and forth between them.
"Anyone want to find out?" she breathed.
No one said anything.
"Good." she stated evenly. "Let's get down to business."
"My name is Nadia Li. Bounty hunter." she announced. "And I'm only after one thing."
"...godDAMMIT..." Baxter's voice came from down the end of the alley, as he pulled himself free of the cycle that had slid him for over a minute and a half. "Fuck that bitch up!"
"Him." she said.
Everyone looked back down the alley, watching Ozzy trying to untangle his shredded shirt from the jagged mesh of the exhaust pipe.
"Quite frankly, Miss Li, I simply don't care what you're after." Lykopis said, taking advantage of the distraction. "You attacked us first. I see no reason to indulge you any further............Phil...."
Her hand suddenly jerked straight out of Grimm's mouth, as she inexplicably pointed it at her own temple. Her expression made it crystal clear that this was not by her choice.
"...nnngh.....stop it..." she strained, using her other hand to try and pull the gun down. To no avail.
"Pull the trigger?" Phil asked, stepping up next to Lyly.
Grimm, still rubbing his mouth, quickly backhand Nadia so hard she slammed into the wall, and bounced into the other, before hitting the ground completely out.
"....bitch..." Grimm mumbled, as he dug a finger in his mouth, checking his teeth.
"....nnnnn...." Montag began to moan, Victor looking over where he had dumped him.
"What the FUCK was twisting her tit?" Ozzy asked, catching up with everyone.
Sirens in the background confirmed the authorities were getting closer.
"We need to go!" Merrick insisted.
"Fine. Leave them both here..." Lyly nodded, pointing at Grissom.
The group hurriedly left, leaving Grissom Montag and Nadia in the alleyway...
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Reports were being filed, and the streets in front of Montag Industries, Munich Division, was beginning to clear of sight-seers. A few ambulances sat parked in front of the main drive...
"Ich bin fein..." she dismissed, pushing the hand away.
"Nr., sie haben a brusied stellringknochen, belastete ligamente in Ihrem untereren ansatz, und eine geringfügige erschütterung..." the paramedic said, re-applying the white gauze to the back of her head. "Und das ist, was sie für das tragen nicht Ihres sturzhelms erhalten."
Nadia grimaced as he applied the peroxide to the small cut in her skull. She was sitting in the back opening of one of the ambulances, the medic attending in front of her. Standing just behind the paramedic, a lone Interpol agent stood watching.
"And you couldn't I.D. any of them?" the agent asked in English, calmly surveying their resident tracker.
She glanced at the paramedic, and back again. "Are you sure he can't understand?"
The agent looked down at the back of the paramedic's skull. "Hey you...I want to gang-fuck your wife until she screams your son's name..."
The man didn't flinch, steadily going on with the business of tending to his patient.
"Satisfied?" the agent said.
Nadia stared at the agent.
"....you know, I could put a bullet in his skull right now, dump him here in the ambulance, and no one would know..."
And the medic's hand....paused...
"I...Ich denke, daß ich hier... getan werde..." he said nervously, packing his gauze and bandages, hurrying on to the next ambulance.
The agent watched him with suspicious eyes, Nadia grinning. He turned back to Nadia with a sneer.
"Could you identify any of the rest?" he sighed impatiently.
"No." she shook her head. "There was one in a white suit that struck me as familiar. But, I didn't get a good enough look at him."
The agent nodded.
"You should go over the FBI intelligence list we compiled of these freaks....see if you can find him there..."
"No..." she stated firmly, coming to a stand, and throwing her jacket back on. "...he's still out there."
"Li, he's gone." the agent sighed. "They could be anywhere by now."
She pulled her collar tight, cutting her eyes up at the man...
"...I'll find him..." she replied with a low tone, sliding a thin pair of sunglasses over her eyes.
She held her hand out with an open palm...
"Keys?"
He stared at her for a moment. Then, relented, digging out the keys to his car...
Over in the next ambulance...
"....and you tell Harcourt I want that bleedin' analysis in my hands in three hours! I don't care if he has to swim the fuckin' channel naked to get here--THREE hours!" Grissom Montag barked into a cell, swatting another paramedic hand away.
"Listen, bugger off!" he snapped, clutching the phone to his chest. "I said I was fine! Go! And carry your medevil torture tactics with you!"
The medics shrugged, some scowling, as they backed off....leaving only a single Interpol agent standing staring.
"That goes double for you, twat!" he hissed at the suited agent. "I've given you my fuckin' report."
"Forgive me, Mr. Montag....but, you don't seem very shaken for someone who's been kidnapped at gunpoint, flown a few thousand miles, and used as a possible shield for weapons fire..."
"It was by knife-point, actually..." he corrected with sharp tones. "....and maybe I 'appened to be born with a sizable pair, unlike you poofy 'erberts..."
The agent wrinkled his lips in irritation.
"Now....P-i-s-s O-f-f." Montag finished, immediately returning to the phone. "Teagan?! Of course I'm still here you miserable cow!"
The agent just turned and walked away, Grissom seemingly finding something on the other end of the line to give his tantrum pause...
"....och'...okay, okay..." he sighed, his temper seeming to even off. "....yes...yes, I know you've been trying to lose weight Teagan...yes, dear...I do apologize...I can be an insensitive curr, at times.......oh don't be like that Teagan...you know I can't run things without you..."
Montag shuffled his feet a bit....
"...yes, I know...I should think before I speak. I know. You say that all the time. I know I should listen to you more. Yes, I promise I will never call you that again....yes, I promise. Now, put your things back in your desk. You know I cannot do this without my superhuman girl."
He sighed, rolling his eyes a bit.
"Okay...yes, now listen, I need you to do something. Something very, very important..." he began. "...get the manor security footage from Bob and---...yes, right, Alex. Just get the footage, and then contact that specialist we use sometimes....what was his name? Yes, right, that's the one. McGregor..."
*******************************************************
Approximately seven miles away...six Vanguardians were riding a service lift with one Richard Merrick...
"Okay...we're here..." Ozzy stated. "...now, does someone want to tell me what that was all about back there?"
"...does it looked chipped to you?" Grimm muttered to Phil, who was staring up into his top row of teeth.
"She said her name was Nadia...." Lykopis sighed. "...a bounty hunter, it seems..."
"Well, what the hell was she bounty-ing?" Ozzy asked. "Don't tell me that was about Montag...cause, if so, fuck! He can make people drop out of the sky, if she was that quick to get on the scene..."
Lykopis looked over at Baxter.
"She was after you, Ozzy."
Baxter paused, staring at her.
"...me?" he asked with furrowed brow. "Why the hell would she be---.........oh shit, wait..."
He snapped his fingers a few times.
"The Yakuza." he exclaimed. "Has to be. If there was never any Vanguard...then, Miss X never paid my debts...and Paragon never paid her....and........wait a sec...if that's it, then why aren't I still hanging in that fucking sewer?"
"It's pointless to speculate, Ozzy." she answered. "Maybe you escaped somehow? Maybe it's something else. Maybe it's not even the Yakuza."
He nodded, still trying to work everything out in his head.
"Besides..." Lyly continued. "...we have more pressing concerns....such as...what do we do now?"
Everyone kind of went quiet, unsure of the answer.
"Merrick, right?" Phil turned to the man. "You said this was your apartment loft?"
"That's right..." the doctor nodded.
"Okay, so, if you're wanted by the authorities...as you said you were...wouldn't they think to look for you here?"
"They've already been here....the place was ransacked..." he explained.
"Then, they're probably still watching the place, wouldn't you think?" Icarus added.
"No one is watching." Victor interjected.
"Oh, come on!" Icarus said with an exasperated tone. "How the hell do you know? I hate to point this out again, Vic, but....you're blind--"
Icarus's words were immediately choked off, what with Victor's thumb and forefinger forcibly grasping his esophagus, and all.
"Reilley!" Lykopis snapped. After a brief pause, Victor released Icky.
He coughed a little, rubbing his strained throat...
"...*cough*...you KNOW man..." he rasped, suddenly coming into a face-to-face confrontation with the somber teammate. "...you may scare everyone else with this 'Terminator'-thing you got going....but, one of these FUCKING days, I'm going to get tired of your act and---"
"And what?" Victor interrupted, suddenly taking a single step foward, to where he and Icky were almost meeting noses.
Icarus paused, the black bandana hiding Victor's sightless gaze from him.
"...and start IGNORING you COMPLETELY!" he finished rather unimpressively. "Ha! *cough* Yeah, motherfucker! SEE where you'll be, then, huh?"
Victor said nothing, and made no change in expression. But, he immediately took a step back from the man.
"...mess with me again..." Icky added under his breath, doing a quick fake-lunge at the man. "...bitch..."
The two said nothing else to each other, Merrick glancing over at Lykopis as she turned back ahead.
"...nice group..." he commented to her.
She tilted her head with a subtle nod and shrug.
The lift doors opened to a hallway, the group following Merrick down to his door. They entered a wide, spacious loft, with large bay windows lining the far wall.
"Make yourself at home..." he stated pleasantly. "...bathroom is over there....beer's in the fridge. I'm going to change clothes..."
Lykopis looked over at Phil.
"Is Victor right?" she asked. "Is anyone watching the building?"
Phil shook his head with worried eyes.
"I....I don't know..." he finally said. "...my telepathy has been acting....wonky. Ever since Prometheus dropped me off into this world, I haven't been able to maintain a direct or indirect telepathic link. And passive scans always come back blank."
"Weird." she commented.
"Yeah...." he nodded.
"What about in the alley? With Nadia and the gun?"
"That was all TK..." he explained. "...I couldn't see into her mind anymore than I can see into yours."
Lykopis furrowed her brow a bit with worry.
"This world is going to take some getting used to...."
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living in 1962 15000+ posts
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Ozzy Baxter slumped back in a chair in Merrick's apartment. "Okay, what we need is. . .is. . ." Ozzy struggled to make sense of the jumbled memories clashing with his new reality.
"Time." Grimm stated matter of factly.
"Right!" Baxter snapped up. "Time and. . ."
"Information." Grimm said again. "Sidewinder. You can tap into information now, right?" He asked.
"For the umpteenth time, yes." Icarus responded sitting in a chair with his face in his hands.
"Then get up and get to work!" Grimm picked Icarus up by the scruff of the neck and lifted him off the ground with one hand. "Feel sorry for yourself some other time. I need you to patch into the information networks and find out where the police are and what they know about us. Can you broadcast as well as receive?"
Grimm dropped Sidewinder as the young Russian landed on his feet, beginning to snap out of it.
"I don't know!" he barked, stopping when seeing the pissed off looks from his teammates.
"Then I suggest you find out." Grimm leaned in towards Icarus' face. "Because if you can, you're going to be part of our ticket out of here. I want you to scramble the police, interpol, all of them. Feed them as much disinformation as you can to get them off of our trail."
"I don't speak German!" Sidewinder counted.
"But I do." Reilly stated from where he sat, balancing a knife on his fingertips.
"Reilly, you tell us what they're saying and you tell Sidewinder what to tell them. Who's most familiar with Munich?" Grimm continued as the group looked on dumbfounded.
Lykopis, Merrick, and Smith all started at once as Grimm and Baxter looked at each other. "Well?" Grimm asked.
"I'd say Ly-Ly, but I'm not sure what Merrick or Phil know about the place." Baxter responded, rubbing his fingers on his chin and making a small squeaking noise as he did.
"Okay, then. Lykopis, Merrick, your job is to find us the quickest and safest way out of Munich. Phil, I have another job for you."
"And what would that be?" Smith answered.
"We need whatever connections you might have in this upside down world. We're not exactly inconspicuous, in case you haven't noticed."
"Some things never change, do they?" Phil smirked a bit before regaining his serious demeanor. "So we need I.D.s, passports, disguises?"
"All of the above."
"Where do we want to go?"
"Anywhere. I don't care. As long as it's the fuck out of Munich."
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Peacock Teaser 3000+ posts
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Lykopis was about to leave when Ozzy lightly grabbed her arm. "Lyly?"
She shivered, and then winced with emberassment. "I'm sorry...your hands are cold."
"Sorry." They looked at each other. "You'll be okay out there with the new guy, right?"
She nodded. "I think so."
"It's just that...this place is new to us and I don't want to see you get scratched up --" he winced at the poor wording. "Um...I just fucked that up, didn't I?"
Lykopis ran a few strands of hair over her face, in a pitiful attempt to cover the scar. "That's okay. I'm almost use to it by now."
"Just be careful -- "
She gave a little wink and turned around. "It's okay, I'm a big girl, I can tie my own sandles and everything." She turned to Icarus. "Icarus?"
"Yes, your Majesty?"
Lykopis ignored the slight sarcasim. "I think you'll be able to figure everything out. I bet you'll find a whole bunch of information for us by the time I get back."
Icarus grinned. "Uh...thanks. Really, thanks." He looked at Grimm and smirked. "See, at least she think I'm capable."
Lykopis motioned to Merrick. "Come on, let's get this started."
On the elevator ride down, Lykopis studied the strange Celtic ammulet on Merrick's chest. "Late Iron Age if I am not mistaken. Second century before Christ, maybe? Hard to tell, really."
Merrick was impressed. "Are you a historian as well?"
Lykopis gave a lopsided grin. "Well, sort of. I've been around since before Philip of Macedon became ruler." Merrick stared at her in confused amazement. "I am an Amazon, so to speak. I do not age. I may look like I'm twenty-seven, but really I'm over three-thousand years old."
"Three thousand?"
"Yes, I -- wait, are you laughing at me?" Lykopis was insulted. No one had ever laughed at her before. This new world was going to take some getting use to.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...heh...you look real good for your age." Lykopis's brown eyes went red for a moment. "I'm sorry, really. It's just that I don't believe in Amazons."
"And I don't believe in Celtic Huntsmen coming out of professors. You are calling the kettle black, pot."
"True enough." The elevator door opened, and Merrick led Lykopis out of the apartments. "What do you suppose our next step is?"
Lykopis looked at the busy streets. Strange. It seemed like only a few days ago, she had been here, a member of Vanguard Europe. How things had changed. No Penny, no Paragon, and now no Vanguard. She was missing it all?
"We need to get out of Munich...but to where? We have no other connections. We have each other, like Oz said, but there is no one left to help us."
What was it that she learned, hunting with her sisters and mother? "Lykopis, pay attention. Look at how Jocasta hunts. Be more like her. If you're prey goes to ground, give it no ground to go to."
That was Vanguard. A prey animal without a place to hide. And if there was no Munich branch of Vanguard...what other shelters were missing? Her estate in Greece? Drake's home in America? Sidewinder's father's home?
"Montag," said Lykopis to herself.
"What?" asked Merrick.
"We're being chased and we have nowhere to hide. But what if we're not the prey? What if we become the predator?" She grinned. "And Montag should be pretty easy to find."
Merrick readjusted his ill-fitting coat. "Wait, you kidnapped Montag after breaking into his house. He's the richest man on the planet. He's going to be after you. Why head towards him?"
"Like I said, we can't hide anymore. Not until we know what we're in possesion of on this planet. Where is Montag's center of operations?"
"All the big companies are based in New York."
Lykopis frowned. "New York?" She was hoping it was London, which would be a lot easier to smuggle into. "Fine. We need to buy train tickets to Hamburg. Come on."
Wait, can't we just rent a car? "Hamburg? Why Hamburg?"
"Because that's where the Port of Hamburg is located." She rolled her eyes. "You think I'm going to put Ozzy in another plane?"
"So...you think we should all take a train...and then, buy tickets for a boat?"
"Ha!" Lykopis began walking a faster pace. Merrick had trouble catching up with her gait. "No, I'm thinking that we buy tickets to the train...and then sneak on a cargo ship bound for New York. That can't be too hard to find."
"This doesn't sound particularly legal."
Lykopis grinned. "That's the best part about this group. We make illegal look so good." She tapped the metal on his chest. "Besides, with your brawn and my brains, what's the worse that can happen?"
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Regenerated 15000+ posts
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"...cheers..."
Ozzy and Grimm tapped Guiness bottles together, both sitting back in their comfortable LazyBoys across from each other. Baxter turned the bottle up, taking a few gulps with a satified sigh.
"So...don't you feel a weensy bit guilty ordering everyone to go do important things while we raid Merrick's beer?" Ozzy asked with a grin.
Grimm belched from his swig, shrugging.
"Nah...I mean, how the hell else were we going to get to the beer so easily?"
"Ha!"
Grimm smirked, looking out of the bay window to their left.
"Besides...you and I...heh...what use are we right now?" Grimm added, staring out at the cloudy gray.
"Do right...." Oz nodded, taking another drink. "...there's nothing to hit."
"Yep." Grimm nodded once.
"Yep." Baxter nodded back.
A moment, and both broke into a chuckle, taking more drinks.
"I'll tell you something....which I'm pretty sure you already noticed, working with her before and all.....but Lyly's got a nice set on her..."
"Ooooh yeah..." Ozzy agreed with a dirty smirk on his lips.
"You ever hit that?" Grimm cocked an eyebrow.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Ozzy laughed so hard, beer almost came out of his nose. "Are you fucking kidding me? Hell no!"
"Why not, man?"
"Well, first of all...." the boxer shrugged. "...it'd be like doing my sister. Second, I don't think I'm that invulnerable..."
"Wait---....your sister is a hot, six-foot-five Amazon?" Grimm tried to clarify.
"You know what I mean, fucker..." Baxter rolled his eyes, giving him the finger.
"Heh..." Grimm grinned. "...no, really...I don't. That's a fine piece of--"
"Okay, okay!" Ozzy interrupted, holding his hand up. "Let's not just completely break her down to meat, alright?"
Grimm paused, staring hard at Ozzy.
".........holy shit........" Grimm chuckled.
"What?" Ozzy frowned.
"You like her."
"...what?!" Baxter shook his head with disbelief.
"You like her."
"Haven't you heard a word I've said?"
"You do. You like her..." Grimm smiled wide, leaning back gratified at pinpointing this. "...all this 'sister'-talk is just a good excuse to not acknowledge it."
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do."
"No I don't!!"
"Yes you do."
"I swear to FUCKING god, Grimm....I do NOT like Lyly in that way, okay?!" Baxter insisted. "Haven't you ever had a...a..female-friend that you didn't automatically want to just jump in her pants?"
"Yeah, sure." Grimm nodded, taking a drink.
"Thank you..."
"I was in love with her." Grimm added, cocking an eye at the man.
Ozzy sighed very loudly, burying his face in his hands.
"I am not in love with Lykopis..." he stated, his words muffled by his palms. He looked up at Grimm with a serious expression. "....we're just kindred spirits, that's all. She's a fighter. I dig that. I respect that. I understand that."
Grimm just stared at him with a smirk, leaning casually back in the recliner with the bottle resting against his lips.
"She's proud, and regal..." Baxter continued. "...she's seen stuff that we can't even imagine..."
Grimm dipped into the bottle for a moment, never taking his eyes off Baxter.
"....and she keeps her self locked down so hard, and so tight, that when she gets frustrated by little things, I just know it's her frustration at herself for not being able to let go around everyone...."
Grimm continued to stare, listening, casually blowing against the top of the bottle trying to make it whistle.
"...and I understand what it's like to have a life, and a family, and watch it all go to hell...or in her case, age to dust....I just watch her, and I just know there's so much passion and...and...desire absolutely frothing at the seams to get out. Can you imagine what it's like? Can you? I mean, FUCK! You and I...we live, what? Eighty-years, max? And look how...how...passionate we are about the smallest little day-to-day things. Sports. Parties. Sex. All the things that make it worth getting up every day, you know?"
Grimm turned his bottle up, completely downing the beer, still watching and listening.
"But her....damn....she's been around for centuries. Centuries, man. How much passion does someone accumulate in a lifetime? What about a hundred years? Three-hundred? She's so incredible. To be able to hold it all back. To torture herself every minute, of every day....to only be able to find that fire in the heat of battle...but nowhere else. God, what a woman."
Grimm's eyebrows were raised all the way up, balancing the empty bottle on his fingertips...an amused expression lining his mouth.
"What a person." Baxter continued, seemingly now lost in his own personal revelry. "I can't help but be impressed. I can't help but dig her. I swear, I love that woman."
Ozzy stopped...dead...cold....his mouth still open. He stared at the hardwood floor for a brief, agonizing few seconds, before finally looking up.
"I KNEW IT!!! HA! HA! HA! HA!" Grimm yelled, pointing straight in his face. "You fucking LOVE her! HA! HA! HA!"
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I FUCKING MEAN, YOU ASSHOLE!!" Baxter yelled back.
"...You lo-ve her.....you lo-ve her...." Grimm sang with a mocking tune, waving his hands around merrily.
Baxter jumped out of his chair, beginning to pound on the man head.
"Hey!" Icarus barked, leaning out of the doorway of Merrick's home office. "Do you mind?! Some of us are trying to work in here!"
"Have you got anything yet?" Grimm asked, holding Baxter by the throat.
"Well.. no, not mu---"
"Then shut the fuck up and get back to work!!" he barked.
*Knock-Knock-Knock*
They all froze, staring at the front door. After looking at it, back at each other, and back at the door again, Grimm easily shoved Ozzy off, getting up. Victor and Icarus came out of the office.
"...............yes?" Grimm asked very carefully, peeking through the eyehole.
In the fish-eye lens he could make out an older woman standing in the hallway. She looked somewhat distraught.
"{Dr. Merrick...it's Pauline from 7-G...}" she said through the door. "{...M-May I come in?}"
Grimm looked back at everyone with a shrug.
"It one of Merrick's neighbors..." Victor said very calmly, translating for the rest. "...she's asking to come in."
"Well, get rid of her..." Grimm insisted. "...the last thing we need are visitors."
"Dr. Merrick ist nicht hier im Augenblick. Bitte später zurückgekommen." Reilley replied loudly enough for her to hear him from across the room.
"{...I...I'm sorry...I really need to come in for a moment.....please...}" the german voice replied.
Victor frowned. Having been blindly facing the kitchen up to this point, he turned his head towards the sound of the voice behind the closed door. He concentrated, the infra-red spectrum beginning to peel back the heat signature behind the door and wall.
....the woman's signature.........and a second signature, flat against the wall...
Victor sneered, ripping his Beretta from its holster...
"Everyone down!!" he yelled, opening fire at the wall.
Pauline found herself shoved down, Nadia falling back-first to the floor as plaster began exploding from the wall above her.
Victor popped the clip, running towards the door as he slid a new one in. He rared his foot back to kick right through the doorway, but, a fraction of a second too late. Nadia kicked the door in, catching him off-balance, the splintering door knocking him into Grimm. She fired off two rounds from her .357, Icarus diving hard behind the sofa to avoid the slugs.
Ozzy leapt from his crouched position, running to tackle her. She quickly tossed a four-stringed-bolero at him, the cables of the weapon wrapping around him instantaneously. She side-stepped his now uncontrolled dive, his body flying past hers straight into the wall.
Grimm was up, now holding the seperated door in both hand. He swung it wide towards the bounty hunter, even as she ducked. A few steps back to find her balance, and Grimm was already on her again.
This time she ran straight at him, before he could bring the door completely down. And, like a runner stealing homeplate, she slid straight under him, cup-checking him as she slid between his legs. Still in motion, Grimm came fully around with the door, catching a rising Victor in his path instead. The man slammed into the ground with a grunt.
"FUCK!" Grimm barked. "...sorry Vic..."
Nadia was already across the room, side-kicking Icarus in the gut to put him back on the floor again. She turned, Ozzy stampeding towards her. With his arms still tied tightly to his upper torso, his head was bowed like a bull....intent on literally ramming her head-first.
Nadia just stood there, letting the boxer get within a few inches. And, with an almost bored grace, took one step to the left.
Ozzy careened straight through one of the bay windows, falling the four stories with a pavement crunching stop at the bottom.
Nadia could not pause to see, as Grimm started swinging. Her nimble, cat-like reflexes were too fast for the massive brawler. His teeth gritted with an undetermined anger, his fists kept missing their mark as she dove, dodged, and twisted. Finally, she spun just far enough out of his reach to hit a button on her wrist watch.
A small beeping sound came from below, Grimm following it down to his crotch. A small pack of plastique was attached firmly to his package. He looked up at the woman.
She merely smiled, blowing him a kiss.
A sudden roar of thunder and fire erupted from Merrick's apartment, Nadia backflipping just ahead of the fireball, straight out. She landed on the fire escape a story below, grabbing the rail to keep from falling. A smoldering ball of flame and smoke fell past her, Grimm on his way to the ground below.
"I don't care how tough he is..." she muttered to herself. "...that had to hurt..."
Inside the destroyed apartment, Victor crawled through the wreckage, keeping under the smoke. Fire alarms and shrieks of neighbors could be heard in the background. Immediately following, a sprinkler system kicked-in, the cool wash soothing Reilley's senses. He made his way towards the opening Grimm's body had made, pausing as he heard coughing.
He tilted his head right a bit, something moving in the apartment.
"...Icarus?" he asked.
"*cough*...*cough*...Victor?...that you?" Sidewinder's voice came back. "....where are you man? I can't see you....all *cough*....all this smoke...I can't see where you are...."
"I know how you feel." the man replied cooly. Surprisingly, he then turned, crawling back into the wreckage, following the sound of Icky's coughing. Finding the man laying in the corner, he pulled his leg free from a piece of flooring it had been caught on.
"Come on....work with me..." he said, holding Icarus under his arms, and slowly dragging the man out towards the open air.
Rolling Icarus out onto the fire escape below, he followed, landing in a grunting crouch next to the dazed man.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, black soot smeared over his face, and haphazardly across his singed fatigues.
"*cough*...no...no, I don't think so..." Icarus replied, lying there trying to catch his breath. It took a minute, but he finally looked over at Reilley. ".....you saved my life....."
Victor made no change in expression.
"Yes."
Icarus stared at him for a moment more, before finally looking away.
Meanwhile, four stories below....
Ozzy strained and grunted, trying to break the metal coils that bound him. To no avail. Finally, with great effort, he pulled himself up in a sitting position, suddenly noticing Nadia walking up with a casual stride. He roared, fumbling up to his feet. But, before he could get all the way up, she hit another button on her watch. All four of the ball-bearing magnets that held his coils in place suddenly popped open. With a hydrolic piston fire, each one launched seperate wired-spikes into the ground, effectively anchoring him in place.
Another switch, and they retracted, forcibly yanking his body flat into the pavement.
Baxter squirmed and strained and turned, to no effect. He was bound tight and good.
Captured.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT WITH ME?!" he shouted furiously.
"Oswald Johann Baxter...A.K.A. 'The Fist'..." Nadia began in a formal voice. "...you are under arrest for the murder of Edward Drake Marshall..."
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“WHAT?” yelled Ozzy, his brain refusing to process the words the punk haired-albino skinned Asian had just pronounced.
But Nadia was not paying him any attention, confident in the quality of the magnetic wires. Her eyes moved faster from the big man on the ground, not far from her, to the smoking hole four level up in the building, where she knew there was a man able to see across wall. And since infrared detection is a much more believable thing in biology than x-rays vision, she moved four step backward, positioning herself over the grating of the underground subway. “It makes me so Marylyn” she grinned to Ozzy.
Grimm was back on his feet.
Nadia raised a Nokia 9500, one finger ostentatiously pointing to a button. “Before you or Daredevil up there move, listen to me carefully. I am paid just for tin man. I don’t fucking care who you are, so I suggest you to ran and find a new hide. The firemen will be here in six-eight minutes, depending on the traffic. But, you hear?” she said, pointing up the index finger of the hand not holding the cellular, and moving it around. There was a big noise of sirens.
She continued: “Before coming to pay you a visit, I had some crooks on my payroll going to rob a bank on the next block. Poor them, I also told the police. Now there are half a hundred leather-helmets armed to the teeth just fifty metres from here. If I press this button, a pre-registered message will alert them to come here to take Baxter, and they will… in thirty to forty… seconds.”
She looked deeply at Grimm. “Check. Your move, now.”
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living in 1962 15000+ posts
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"So. . .all you want is Baxter?" Grimm asked, looking very thoughtful.
"Are you stupid as well as ugly? That's what I said." Nadia responded.
Grimm pondered for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and saying, "Take him."
Nadia and Ozzy both looked at Grimm in surprise.
"Yeah, take him. He's useless. All he does is whine and cry and slow the rest of us down. Shit, I've been thinking about dumping him for days now." Grimm kept going.
"Grimm, you sonuvabitch!" Baxter began screaming obscenities at his teammate.
"And you won't interfere?" Nadia asked cautiously.
"Not a bit." Grimm responded.
"Perhaps you are not so dumb after all, then. I will take Baxter n-urk!" Nadia found herself unable to move. She tried to press the button on her phone, but found herself unable to move. Her eyes darted around, looking for answers as Grimm approached with a wicked grin on his face.
"You set my balls on fire. Fuck you, you stupid cunt." Grimm reared back and clocked Nadia on the jaw, knocking her out, although her body still stood in place.
"Good work, Phil." Grimm said, as Smith stepped into view, offering Grimm his overcoat.
Grimm pulled the coat on, tying it over himself before walking over and pulling Ozzy loose. "Dammit, Grimm! Why didn't you tell me you were bluffing?!"
"How was I supposed to do that without letting her in on it, Baxter? Or giving away Archangel here?"
"She was totally checking out your package, Grimm." Phil remarked as he telekineticly lifted the three up to the hole where Reilly and Sidewinder waited for them.
"She must been looking for the burn marks. . ." Grimm answered.
"What about the phone? The call? The sirens? The cops?" Baxter asked again.
"Icarus?" Grimm asked.
Sidewinder looked up, a light over his left ear shining green, before giving the high sign. "No cops on the way. She was bluffing. The fire engines will be here any moment, though."
"You knew. You asshole. You knew she was bluffing the whole time." Baxter punched Grimm on the shoulder.
"Watch the coat!" Phil exclaimed. "White leather is expensive!"
"How did you know she was bluffing?" Baxter continued.
"I didn't." Grimm responded. "She'll be out for a while. But I don't want her coming after us again before we get a good lead. Phil, bring her up here along with what's left of her restraints."
"Dammit, Grimm--" Ozzy was continuing.
"Look, Baxter, we don't have time to sit down and explain everything right now. You guys might be more familiar with each other than I am, but it's obvious to every flipping body that you guys have a lot to learn about teamwork! Now chill the fuck out and sit down for a while!"
Baxter fumed a bit, before sitting down in a chair. After a moment, he held a hand in front of his face.
Reilly continued to feed Icarus what to say to keep the authorities running in circles for the time being.
Smith and Grimm began checking Nadia for any concealed weapons or devices before jury rigging the restraints she'd used to hold Ozzy earlier and her tying her to one of Merrick's chairs.
"Baxter," Grimm offered, briefly looking up from his work.
"What, you jackass? What the hell do you want now?!" Ozzy screamed. "You want to make another smartass comment? Huh? You want to ridicule me some more? Because I have just about had enough-"
"I'm sorry about Marshall." Grimm responded, finishing his work.
"Yeah, me too." Ozzy said.
Reilly lifted an eyebrow at this but decided to hold off on following up on it for the moment.
"We all done here, then?" Phil said, finishing up with Nadia.
"Yeah, get us out of here, Phil. Icarus, see if you can locate Merrick and Ly-ly. We've got to get out of this damn place before anything else goes wrong."
*************************************
Forty minutes later, when Munich firemen made their way to Merrick's apartment, they found only an unconscious Asian woman in her underwear, tied down to a chair by metal restraints.
They would remember that picture for the rest of their lives.
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