RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block Vanguard Europe #2: Brood XIII

"Early last Spring, much of the Eastern U.S. was beset by what was referred to as the Brood X cicadas. One of the largest known insect swarms seen in recent times. They emerge once every seventeen years. The Brood X cicadas are mostly harmless and subsist off of plant life, before mating and dying. They are mostly harmless, with the exception of the large size of this particular brood."

Doctor William Paragon stood in front of a large graphic displaying images of the full grown cicadas over the skies of Ohio. The meeting room was darkened, as the field team of Vanguard Europe sat around the meeting table, listening.

"Late in the summer, after most of the Brood X species had mated and died off, Bethesda, Maryland was beset with what the newsmedia dubbed "The Bethesda Beasts," but the scientific community more properly labeled Brood XIII. Large, carnivorous variants of the cicadas which appear to be evolutionary offshoots of the Brood X. I don't think I need to point out the implausibility of such a swift and sudden evolutionary phase. Yes, Adem?"

Adem Different stood from his seat at the meeting table and spoke. "It is your theory that this evolution was artificially induced, is it not?" The alien smiled as the words passed from his lips.

"It is." Paragon answered. "As you and Edmund know, there seems to be a new designer drug on the streets, which allows norms to mimic meta abilities for short periods of time. The Brood XII outbreak was in fact, followed by an outbreak of sickness which was in fact, caused by what was revealed to be a metaviral strain."

"Metaviral?" Drake Marshall asked. "As in, meta viruses?"

"Yes, it was a theory of mine that the metagene is not necessarily limited to humanity." Paragon's statement stunned most of the room into silence.

"Oh, make way for Krypto, the Wonder Dog!" Icarus exclaimed with bored indifference. "Give him a cape and add him to the team!"

"Nothing so lighthearted, I'm afraid." Paragon gravely responded. "Someone, is artificially creating metagenetic evolution in insects, viruses, and normal humans. We don't know what else they may be capable of. There could be serious ramifications on natural life if they continue to wantonly create these artificial metas."

"What does this have to do with us, specifically?" Lykopis asked. "Why do you appear so bothered by this now?"

"Because early this morning, the Brood XIII cicadas appeared again over the skies of Germany. They're here. Now."

Paragon adjust the map. It focused on northern Germany. "This the countryside surrounding Kiel, the capital of Schleswig-Holstein. It's located on the Baltic sea. Here's where are swarm is currently located."

Lykopis spotted something moving on the floor and rammed the heel of her shoe into the ground. Icarus and Adem, sitting on her sides, turned to her, looking very worried. Swallowing hard, Lykopis inspected the dead insect stuck on her heel.

"It is just a cockaroach." Icarus looked relieved.

"I doubt you can simply squash all the bugs in the swarm, Lykopis." He looked up at the rest of the team. "You're leaving in an half-hour. Be ready with all your gear. Good hunting."

Icarus Sidewinder zipped up his flight suit, running his fingers over the several patches down his arm. As he did so, he took special notice of the 'Project: Icarus' flight patch on his right arm. Named for him, his father's flight project had been tailor-made for him from top to bottom. It was always meant for him... and he'd have it no other way.

Opening his case, Icarus lifted his two new gauntlets from their place next to his jetpack. He'd gotten the idea from Drake during the Abaddon mission and had passed it along to his father, who'd designed the new 'weapons' in the pilot's arsenal.

They'd been designed with grappling cables, tracking devices, smokescreens, retractable blades for hand-to-hand combat, and a variety of other gadgets for just about any possible scenario. D. Percival Sidewinder was one of the greatest inventors on the planet, making devices like these gauntlets a commodity that Icarus wasn't willing to trade in anytime soon.

As he slid his jetpack on, a beeping sound came from his helmut. Picking up his helmut, Icarus pulled his portable mic from inside and spoke into it.

"Yeah?" he asked.

{{{Mr. Sidewinder?}}}

Icarus sighed. "Yes, Jym?"

{{{I believe the others are rendevousing in the helicopter bay, should you be willing to join them.}}}

"Sure, Jym," Sidewinder answered, pulling his helmut onto his head. "I'll be right there..."

"I worked this up for you," one of the men from VE's research department said as he ran up. He handed a hefty file folder filled with documents to the alien. Adem began to flip through them.

"This seems to mostly be DNA and genome sequences." Different flipped through a few more pages. "Reproduction, sensory stimuli, and other entomological gobbledy-gook! What am I supposed to do with all of this?"

"It's data. Raw data," the man smiled as he spoke. Adem waited a few more moments for more information to be revealed, but it never was. "For you to read," the man spoke again, without so much of a smile now.

"I can't understand a word of it. I'm not an entomologist. I am a......," Adem paused to make sure he was using the correct human phrase to describe his training and thought process without returning to his native termonology. "... detective," he finally finished with a heavy accent on the word. Different moved the file to fully encompass the man's eyesight. "This reads like stereo instruction. What gave you the impression that I would be able to understand it?" The alien's voice see sawed up and down as he spoke.

"Rumor is among the lads that you're an..... an alien," the employee responded.

"And that means that I can understand this, correct?"

The man knodded.

"I see. You're a human. Can you build an automobile engine? Write a novel? Fly a supersonic jet? I didn't think so. Let's make a deal, you and I,....."

"Rupert."

"Rupert? Yes, I should have expected something along those lines. Let's make a deal, you and I, Rupert. You promise to no longer make bold and rash assumptions regarding my abilities based upon my extraterrestialness," Adem stared down for approval from Rupert, who gave it with an undeniable headshake, "and I promise not to call the Mothership to begin the invasion. Deal? Good. Now, I must go."

"Why can't I fly the jet?" Icarus almost pouted from his seat. The Leer Jet sped across the German skies with the team inside, preparing. "I am a pilot, you know? Only the best one in Europe. No. Strike that. The entire Free World. As well as those bits that aren't free."

Drake adjusted his guantlets. "I was hoping you would save up all that energy for when we actually land in Kiel and get to work."

"Instead," Lykopis interjected as she ran her whetstone across her blade, "you seem to be expending it all on sulking."

"That's quite enough," Drake ordered the two. He stood up to check on their ETA for landing. The area around his stomach felt a little tight. The former vigilante could feel his belly pressing up against the inside of his armor. Married life is keeping me out of the gym, he thought to himself. Got to remember to do a few hundred sit ups when I get back home.

He opened the door to the cockpit and kneeled down next to the pilot, a long-haired man in his late 30's. "How long until we land in Kiel?"

"I'm...... I'm not so sure anymore," the pilot answered while his upper body bobbed sluggishly in every direction. "I took a whole bunch of cough syrup right before we left. I.... I think it's starting to kick in." Drake was about to turn and call for Icarus when the pilot began laughing. "Naw! I'm just messin' with ya!" His hand left the wheel and tapped the Vanguardian on his shoulder. "We're just a few minutes outside of their airspace. I'll be puttin' this baby down in no more than half an hour. Name's Brian, by the way."

"Um... nice to meet you, Brian. I'm...."

"Yeah, I know who you are. I went ahead and memorized it." The pilot tapped his forefinger to the side of his head. "All of your names are right up here. You're Tom. The guy in black is Eric. The young guy is Waldo. The chick is hot with a capital H, but her name is boobs.. er.. Betty. And the tall guy is some European basketball star you picked up named Arturo De La Rosa."

"Amazing."

"Isn't it, though? I almost flew for NASA."

"Right." Drake left the cockpit and returned to his seat.

"What did you find out?" Edmund asked from his seat in the back. The shades all around him were drawn and he wore shades.

Drake looked right at Icarus. "You might be flying us back."

"So...how'm I doing?" Ozzy asked.

The voice came through partially clenched teeth, impervious knuckles rocking the hanging bag with rapid taps of stone-cracking force. Trickles of sweat and beads of intensity littered the landscape of his forehead, glinting of the fluorescent hum of the lights above.

"Pretty damn good for a man that's been in a coma for two months..." Huerta's voice carried around the punching bag. Only his fingertips showing from the other side, Jody braced against the bag with all of his average weight. His elbows would buckle occasionally, waves of momentum and strength riding the crest from his fingertips to his toes.

"...Nort'?" Ozzy asked, cutting his eyes slightly to the right.

Norton Bitmarr, physical therapy coordinator for the MRC, nodded with glance at his clipboard.

"I concur, Dr. Huerta." he said, the obvious Middle Eastern inflections clipping the edges of each word. "Oswald is showing absolutely no signs of muscular atrophy, or, even the slightest degradation in tissue."

"So, all systems go?" Ozzy replied, pausing to catch his breath from the boxing regiment he was currently putting himself through.

"Better, even." Bitmarr added. "Not only has your natural indestructibility remained steadfast, you're showing signs of increased stamina and strength."

"Meaning?"

"I'm not sure what it means, Oswald." he shrugged. "Is it a normal trait of your metagene? Is it some external element that your biological system has acquired? I can't be sure without running more tests..."

"Ooooh, no!" Ozzy interjected, holding up a single finger. "No more tests! I'm sick of all the damn tests. Tomorrow morning, my bags are packed, and I am out of here. Got it?"

Bitmarr rolled his eyes, as only a medical professional could when faced with the intolerant demands of a patient.

"IF you are so completely adamant about it..." he sighed. "...but, I would run this 'schedule' by Doctor McGregor first, if I were you..."

"Screw him. I want out..."

**************************************

"I want him out, Bill!"

Doctor William Paragon's natural smile remained fixed, as he sat fully back in the leather office chair.

"What are you worried about, Ian?" his smooth voice carried perfectly crisp over the video monitor.

Doctor Ian McGregor leaned forward, peering into the large LCD screen dominating his desktop.

"Let's see....the Yakuza, Interpol, and, quite frankly, Manchester's current record, to start..."

"They lost again?"

"Goddamn Hibbish..." Ian grumbled. "...that tart couldn't hit the broad side of the Thames..."

"Yes, they never should have let Jones retire..." Paragon nodded. "....but, football aside, are you really worried about something happening with Baxter?"

"He attracts danger, Bill...I hate that..."

"As much as I hate it when you call me 'Bill'?"

"The point is, Bill...", McGregor demanded with sly sneer, "...ah've fulfilled my end of the bargain. You wanted the rough-and-tough scrapper walking and talking again? I gave you that. Now get him the hell out of my hospital!"

***********************************

"I just want to get the hell out of this hospital!" Ozzy barked, slamming the bag with sharp jabs.

Huerta grunted, trying to brace the bag for him.

"Pushing yourself is only going to make things worse, Ozzy." he explained in his normal calm demeanor. "You have to trust these people to make the right decisions for you. They're medical professionals, who specialize in exactly patients like you."

"Patients like me? What, sweaty and pissed off?"

"Metahumans, Ozzy. This is the first facility in the world to recognize the need for a separate field of medical study and treatment. You could be in no better hands."

"I could think of other hands I would like to be in...." he replied, pausing long enough to glance across the room. The far wall bore a large, wide pane of glass. Tinted on the opposite side, Ozzy could see a physical therapy session in progress.

He walked away from the punching bag, Huerta peering around the side, watching him. Striding up to the window, he stopped, placing a flat palm against the cool glass. On the other side, he watched Nuriko strain to hold herself up on a set of parallel bars. Her legs, weak and trembling, echoed a frail vulnerability that he had never seen.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" Huerta asked in a quiet voice, walking up next to him.

Ozzy continued to stare through the glass, watching her struggles.

"She's been spitting nails ever since I first met her..." he began. "...but...seeing her like this...I don't know. It reminds me...it convinces me...that....that..."

"...that, no one is really completely indestructible?"

Ozzy turned to look at him.

"Yeah....I guess..." he nodded.

Huerta gained a wry crook to his mouth, placing a calm hand on Ozzy's shoulder.

"Everyone can be hurt, Ozzy. Everyone." he said. "It just depends on how..."

*****************************

"...how you can possibly say that I don't have your best interest at heart, Ian." Paragon sighed. "Haven't I supplied your hospital with the finest and the best this Earth has to offer?"

"Oh, don't play your fucking innocent-'Virgin Mary'-routine with me, boyo!" Ian snarled. "You have ALWAYS had an agenda, Billy. Don't insult me by trying to act like some philanthropical benefactor. Ya' boys in that group of yours might buy it, but, I don't..."

"And don't try and fool me, Ian, by claiming you only want 'what's best for your hospital'." Paragon countered. "You're personally annoyed that you have to make time out of your schedule to deal with the patients I send you."

"No, not the patients! Not the patients!" Ian argued. "I live for the patients. The patients are all that matters to me. That's a bloody fact. It's the insane, life-threatening baggage that these guys bring with them."

"...Ian..." Paragon sighed.

"Don't 'Ian' me! I had two Interpol agents--TWO--pay me a visit a few weeks ago. And, let me tell you, it wasn't to discuss national healthcare, either!"

"I know, I know...you've told me..." Paragon nodded.

"Yeah, and when I did, what did you say, huh? You said 'Don't sweat it, Ian...'" McGregor's voice dropped into a mocking simulation of Paragon's deep, resonant voice. "'...I'll have someone look into it. You have nothing to worry about.' And, that was it! No follow-up, no 'Run for your life, Ian', not even a 'I paid off the entire Royal family, and you have nothing to worry about, Ian'!"

"I didn't want to worry you..." Paragon smiled, enjoying watching McGregor pop and spark in his oft-normal frenzy of anxiety.

"Worry me?!" he practically yelled. "What did you find out, William?! Dammit, if you're going to keep things from me, then, this deal is off!"

Paragon chuckled a bit, leaning in close over the monitor.

"You're not going to like it."

"I already HATE it! So, spill!"

"Weellllll.....after much checking, and rechecking with all of my UK sources, I have come to a serious conclusion...."

"...and..?!" Ian insisted.

William's voice dropped even a bit lower than normal.

"There are no Interpol agents named Gudheim and Moote'..."

McGregor stared at the screen.

"....what...?"

"Those two 'Interpol' agents that visited you? No records of any kind that they exist, let alone, are working for the agencies."

"And...that means..."

"That, more than likely, they're Yakuza agents."

Ian's face blanched a bit.

He suddenly vaulted to his feet, pointing his finger straight at the monitor...

"I WANT BAXTER OUT OF HERE NOW!"

"Are we there yet?"

Lykopis spun her head around. She had opted not to wear her normal fighting gear. Instead, she was dressed for an outdoor expedition--loose blouse, high boots, and dark kaki pants. Her knife's sheath was straped to her leg with leather banding. "Drake, come over here and stop me from killing Icarus!"

Drake came back, laughing. Lykopis was never intentionally humorous, but she had lightened up since the last mission. At least she had a little more respect for the other members. "I won't stop you."

Lykopis grinned and set the whetstone down. Icarus merely crossed his arms. "How are you going to fight a plauge of bugs with a blade anyways?"

Lykopis' bared grinned shrunk. "I have no clue, actually. I hide when I see a plague of locust."

Adem found this intersting. "You've seen these large masses of insects before?"

Lykopis nodded. "Locust swarms in the Middle East. Shortly after the Crusades. I arrived a tourist and after seventy years left a veteren." Her amused face disappeared. "The best thing you can do is hide in a tent and hope your camel is still there in the morning."

Icarus rolled his eyes. "Well that's comforting."

Lykopis looked at Drake. "I am no use against a swarm of insects. You need to fight them with technology."

Drake nodded. "Right. Lykopis, there's a university in Kiel with an extensive research lab."

Lykopis nodded. "You want me to see...if they want to talk to me?"

Drake smiled. "Don't break their kneecaps, please?"

The University of Kiel was a traditional small college with dark red brick and white stone trim. The Vanguard's plane dropped Lykopis off, and the Amazon went in serch for the Entomology department. She had a phone in case she needed to contact Drake fast.

"I am here to see one of the professors," said Lykopis in perfect German.

"Dr. Kueper is in room 207. He's in the lab, so knock before entering."

She found Dr. Kueper in the lab. It was a narrow room, only a few meters wide, but very long. There were rows and rows of drawers along one wall, and the dark fireproof lab surfaces on the other. Kueper was a short, squat man with little beady eyes and stubby fingers. He was trying to pin a moth on a board. "I just arrived from Munich. I work for...German Entomology." She hoped that there was a magazine of that name. "Perhaps I may ask you a few questions about your work?"

Dr. Kueper turned around. Lykopis was a tall brown-eyed brunette with quite a figure. The belt made her waist look very narrow, and the blouse did little to hide anything. She raised an eyebrown, hoping that would catch his attention. "But of course ma'am. Please have a seat."

"What do you think is going on with the new 'Brood XIII'?"

Dr. Kueper raised his hands. "Bah. Just a story made up by the media. 'Brood XIII' is probably no different from any other species of Loba leopardina."

Lykopis rolled her eyes. "The swarm is coming this way." She decided to change her approach. "Is it possible that the brood has gone under some genetic transformations?"

"Bah. That is outrageous. Highly impossible." There was a hint of intelligence in his eyes. "What magazine did you say you were from?"

"The Weekly--" Lykopis stopped. Something was pincing her ankle. She looked down and saw a massive cicada at her foot. Dr. Kueper didn't seem too surprised. It's long piercing mouth was already in her skin. "Ah!" She kicked her foot and pulled the insect off of her. It died as soon as she made a fist.

Lykopis jumped off the chair and pinned Kueper to the wall. She pulled out her knife and used her free hand to lift him up by the neck. It strained her shoulder, but she was too angry to care. "I came here thinking I would get a lecture on how to kill bugs. Now it seems I have just jumped into the middle of something very devious. You know about the swarm -- stop shaking! I will not kill you if I think you are useful! I said stop shaking. You are making my dagger-hand twitch when you do that. Now, tell me what you know about Brood XIII, or I will gut you."

"I-i-i-i-it's not my f-f-f-fault! I just supplyed the insects for the projects. None of this is my fault! If Hans found out I told you, he'd--"

"Hans? Whose Hans?"

"D-d-d-dr. Hans Muller. Genetics building. He's in his office!"

Lykopis dropped the chubby doctor and stormed out of the room. She conceled her weapon and headed towards the medical corner of the college. "Well, let us see what Dr. Muller has to say." She thought about Dr. Kueper. "I should have broken his kneecaps."

* * *

Dr. Kueper got up and shook the dust off. He lumbered over to the phone. "Rose? Get me through to Dr. Muller. Yes, I'll hold!"

The Emtomology building had been very long and narrow. The main genetics lab room was vast and lined with rows of the dark black tabletop. Scattered every few feet were sinks and gas containers.

"Dr. Muller?"

The lights in the room were dimmed. The place seemed deserted. But the absense of noise worried Lykopis. She pulled her knife out. "Dr. Muller?"

Still nothing. Maybe I overreacted. Maybe there is not anyone here. Perhaps I should start searching around. She walked over to the other side of the room. Several dead cicades were sealed in plastic bags. Lykopis read the labels out loud. "Viral variation 14-24B, 18-97B, 21-63C...what is going on here?"

She grabbed the cell phone. "Drake here."

"It is Lykopis. I have found a lead -- sort of. At least some of the insects originated from Kiel."

"What makes you say that?" Lykopis explained about Kueper and the insects in front of her. "Shit. Lykopis, get out of there."

"I can look around some m--"

"Lykopis, out of there, now! Regroup!"

"Fine, I will see you in--" Lykopis let out a painful yelp and dropped the phone. Something had pierced the area of her back that her arms could not reach. She spun around widely, hoping to grab whatever was stinging her skin.

"As soon as that virus circulates your heart, you will make a pretty corpse."

The Amazon twisted around and spotted a gray-haired man pointing at dart gun at her. He put it on the table and pulled out a normal handgun. "Dr. Muller?"

"Kueper phoned ahead and warned me. Next time, Miss Vanguard, I suggest immobilizing the witness. Not that you'll have an opportunity to do so again. I just shot one of our own viruses at you."

Lykopis felt a burning sensation on her back. "How long before I die?"

"Forty seconds, more or less."

Lykopis broke into a run. "Plenty of time for me to take you out!" She leaped over the tables and dropped to the floor in front of Muller. Using the momentum, Lykopis sprang into the air to deliver a hard kick into Muller's jaw. She rammed the palm of her hand into his nose and then made a grab for her dagger. She was about to slice his abdomen when he fired three shots into her chest.

Lykopis fell onto the floor, clutching her bleeding chest. This is it, Amazon. All you longings and all your fears will be put away. Pull away the dolls, Lykopis. You will see Cerberus soon enough. "Stupid girl. It was a bluff. The mutations are too random to predict. You might have lived if you had just stayed still."

There was a tap tap tap and Lykopis saw three bullets fall from her chest. The bleeding stopped, and she could feel flesh and skin underneath the dried blood.

This had only happened once before. Back when Jack Merlin had offered to make her immortal. I am a goddess again...

Dr. Muller seemed to realize his mistake. "Oh shit."

Lykopis leaped into the air. Her white blouse was now stained read and her hands were covered in dried blood, but her blade was sharp as it drove into the doctor's shoulder. "You have genetically modified insects all over this campus. A swarm was spotted along the eastern United States coast. Now a swarm is heading here. There wont be much of the cattle industry left in Schleswig-Holstein after those bugs get through, right?" Muller nodded. "What is going on? Tell me! Or by Athena I will gut you now."

"Shit, I'm bleeding all over the place -- ah, don't push it in further! We sell genetically improved insects here. We've been using viruses to modified their genome. Scientist do that all over the world. We just managed to create meta-strains. The viruses don't seem to care about what host. They'll exchange DNA with any organism out there."

"And Maryland?"

"We sold a batch to some people interested in a biochemical attack on the US Government."

Lykopis dug the knife in further. "And why Kiel?"

"Another shipment was requested by some Columbian guys. Brood XIII excaped from the cargo ship. That's what is attacking the city now."

"So how to we stop them?"

Dr. Muller grinned. "That's the beauty of it, isn't it? Most people design a fault in their products. A chink in the armor. Something that they can control. Us? We made our product perfect." He began laughing. "It can't be stopped. You just the first one that's infected."

Lykopis threw the man across the room. "Some infection. You have made me invincable, fool." She began coughing. "Still, I better find Drake and tell him the news."

"It would be best if you did not use that in here," the airtraffic controller said in his stern German tongue.

"Um..... sorry," Drake Marshall was able to respond with the little bit of the language that he had been able to master. He immediately pocketed his cell phone. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

Icarus Sidewinder flashed his usual smile. "Hey, if it's a swarm, they should be big enough to show up on the radar. That is, of course, unless they're flying below it."

"There is something just south of the city. It's flashing in and out." The German barked orders at the rest of the tower team to divert all airtraffic away from that area.

"See?" Icarus laughed. "I told you so. Now, I'll just jet out there with some Raid or something and get rid of the problem."

"I wish it were that easy," Drake said. His hand was going back into his pocket. "We don't know exactly what we're up against just yet. I had better call Edmund and Adem first, to see what they've found out." The airtraffic controller shot a look at the Vanguard leader as the cell phone appeared. "I'll do this outside. Icarus, pull the car around."

"Oh, I can't fly a simple luxury jet; but I can drive your Beemer?" the young pilot snapped as the two of them left the tower.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"A most confusing and devestating occurence," the man said as he sat behind his desk. Adem and Edmund took a seat in the two chairs placed in front of it. "The Department of Agriculture has been very concerned over this epidemic. Never in recorded history has a swarm of cicadas caused this much destruction."

"Don't these insects normally cause massive amounts of damage?" Edmund sat perfectly upright. His legs crossed as well as his arms.

"Yes, they do; but not over such a prolonged period of time. Cicadas rise from the ground and feast and mate for one week. After that, they die off. This particular swarm has been around for almost two whole weeks."

"And you are sure that it's the same swarm?" Different shifted in his seat and leaned forward.

"Without question. There are no known broods with cycles that coincide with this anamoly. Besides, it is too late in the year for a brood to appear. Once the temperature reaches 64 degrees they begin to dig themselves out of the ground. We are well too far into the year for them to just have been unearthed recently."

"Any known predators?"

"Not found in Europe, no. Aside from normal insect predators, that is."

"Couldn't you have found that out in those files?" Gaunt asked the alien.

"If I could have understood them," Adem replied. "Is there anything else you can think of to tell us?"

"I'm afraid not. This is all the information this department has on cicadas. We only have to deal with them every so often and for such a short period of time. Preventative measures for crop destruction is all I can really give you from now on. But the Department of Health might be able to assist you. Rumor has it that a few illnesses are being linked to the current brood."

"Thank you. Your help is appreciated." Edmund Gaunt stood up and bowed his head a bit.

Adem stood and followed his teammate out of the building. "I guess the Department of Health is our next stop."

Lykopis was running along the streets. I cannot beleive this! I am invincible! The lean-legged brunette jumped over some boxes and sprinted down the sidewalk. A few calls and the team was reorganzied. Drake and Icarus were at the airport's control tower. She had filled them in on what she had learned from Dr. Muller. Everything except that the doctor had infected her. But why did Drake need to know that? She didn't feel sick.

Drake had told her to meet up with Edmund and Adem. Mr. Baxter was with them. Just two more blocks...

Lykopis bent down and started to cough. It was far worse than what she experienced in Muller's office. She was gasping for breath, but her lungs felt damp and stiff. Athena, what is happening to me?

Drops of blood spilled onto the concrete sidewalk. People stopped to look. Lykopis continued to hack, until finally she stopped spitting blood and could breath normally. She remained near the ground for the moment in a sprinter's stance.

Whatever was in that virus, it looks like my body cannot take it. Hopefully no one will notice. Lykopis, for all her talents, was a rather vain vixen.

* * *

"So how were things when you left La Perdita?"

Adem laughed. "It will take hours to fill you in. The headquarters were demolished. Mason has been restored. Brianna and Grissom are engaging in some sort of courtship rituals. And to top it all off, Euro has become a praternal unit again."

"Euro's a father again?"

"I just said that."

"You do not look like a boxer."

Oxxy, Edmund, and Adem spun around. Lykopis was standing in the doorway. Her white shirt was covered in blood. Gaunt lifted an eyebrow. "Something happen, Lady Lykopis?"

"I was just gathering information." She told them what she had already told Drake and Icarus. "So you are Mr. Baxter?"

"And very happy to meet you."

"I hear you cannot be harmed."

Ozzy laughed. "Oh, I can be harmed. Believe, I'm still recovering from one very nasty injury. But I'm getting pretty good at getting back up in a fight. Adem here tells me you some sort of Wonder Woman."

"I do not need a lasso."

"We still don't have a way of defeating the insects," said Adem. "Even if we could stop them spreading the virus, we would still have to worry about a plague of meat-eating insects."

Ozzy pointed to Gaunt. "What about Spooky here? Can't you draw them into something?"

Gaunt turned to the boxer. He did not grin, but the corner of his mouth twitched for a moment. "What do you have in mind?"

"You're going where?" Drake asked over his cell phone. "SLOW DOWN!" he yelled over to Icarus. The young pilot was swerving in and out of traffic with his foot a little further down on the accelorator than Marshall liked.

"I didn't realize I was talking that fast," Adem Different said through the device in his sleeve very slowly.

"Not you," Drake returned to his conversation on the phone while using his free hand to brace himself agains the car door. "Just tell me why you're going back to the university."

"Lykopis is good at interrogating, but I'm not at all convinced that we have found out everything there is to know just yet. Such as where the other shipments are going and how many more broods have been spawned."

"And you're taking Baxter because?"

"I think a man capable of shrugging off bullets and an intense knowledge of hand-to-hand combat would be equally as good at interrogation."

"Alright. Just keep in touch. Icarus and I will meet up with Edmund and Lykopis. IF HE DOESN'T KILL US FIRST!"

Ozzy and Adem walked. "So I'm going back to college," Ozzy said. "I guess this time I'll know better than to use freshmen as bookies."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two walked into Mueller's lab. It showed signs of the fight from earlier. Two pools of blood laid dried on the floor. Adem bent down to one and pinched a bit of it off the floor. He then put it on his tongue.

"Oh! Gross!" Ozzy let out. He turned his head and looked at the lab. It appeared to him that someone had been through here and cleared everything out down to the last test tube.

Adem checked the screen on his sleeve. "Match for Lykopis. That must mean that this one is her assailant's, Dr. Mueller." Adem repeated the process with the other pool.

"Would you stop doing that?"

"I'm not in any danger, Ozzy. The nanites break the blood down before it ever has a chance of coming in contact with my tongue."

"I was pretty sure about that," the boxer replied. "That doesn't stop it from being disgusting. So, Deep Thought, what do you have to say about our friend the bug doctor?"

Adem's eyes enlarged. "It's impossible! His genetic material is an exact match for the Yrret's. Ancient rivals with my own species. Their bloodthirstiness is infamous across the cosmos. They wage war from one system to another, destroying all life that they encounter. If they truely have reached Earth, this planet and all its people are doomed to extinction."

"Seriously," Ozzy replied.

"Traces of prescription drugs that would point towards a heart disease of some sort."

"Then he's not going on the lamb without his pills."

"Indeed. Jym, I need an address for Dr. Mueller."

Brakes squealed as the BMW halted in front of a large warehouse in the middle of Kiel. As soon as the car stopped, the driver's side door was flung open as Icarus Sidewinder leapt out of the vehicle. He smiled widely as he tossed his hair from side to side.

From the passenger's seat, Drake Marshall opened up the door, holding his aching neck in his hand. "Was that stop really necessary, Icarus?" he asked.

"What's wrong, Captain America?" the pilot quipped. "Not able to handle a few hairpin turns without getting whiplash?"

"Just... shut up, Sidewinder," Marshall snapped, obviously agitated. "Where the hell are we?"

"Mittel Chemicals, my walking boy scout!" Icarus said. "It's time we build our arsenal!"

"Wait," Drake said, raising a hand. "I thought we were going to meet up with the others and compare notes."

"Well, you never told me that," Icarus said faux-innocently. "So, in lieu of your poor communication skills, I thought it might be best for us to prepare."

"Prepare for what?" Marshall said while attempting to stretch out his neck.

"For war, El Capitan!" Icarus said, walking toward the door. "Finally, we're doing something I know how to prep for - aerial combat!"

"So why are we at a chemical plant?"

"Y'know, for a guy who works at an Information Services place, you sure are asking a lot of questions..." Icarus said, rolling his eyes. "We're gonna construct some homemade insecticides, O fearless..."

"Look, Icarus, I told you..."

"Look, nothing!" Sidewinder protested, propping open the door as he and Drake walked through. "We're playing my ballgame now. You can be flying the fastest aircraft on Earth... but it won't do you much good in battle unless you've got some missiles on that thing. Understand?"

"I suppose," Drake said, walking alongside his teammate. I just hope I don't live to regret this one...

"Perhaps you should clean up a bit?" Gaunt asked, staring at the blood-splattered Lykopis.

As was everyone else they passed.

"No...." she replied, the two figures making their way down the hallway. "....we haven't the time...."

Guant paused, Lykopis following suite.

"Lady Lykopis, we are not on the field of battle. We are here to extract any information that we can find." he explained in his normal calm, somber voice. "Parading around, caked in blood, is often frowned upon in our modern civilization...."

"We are always on the field of battle..." she replied, her eyes glazing with a tint of irritation.

Two security guards began passing at the far end of the hall, no doubt forewarned of the two strangers by the last remaining employees heading out for a care-free, goth-and-blood-cloaked-free weekend.

"It is this type of thinking on your part that I find unacceptable..." he hissed leaning in to her. "...we are not here to attract attention. You are compromising this mission by your refusal to acknowl----"

"I will NOT YIELD!" she suddenly yelled, lurching in towards Guant.

Her imposing figure quickly crumpled into his arms so unexpectedly, Edmund stumbled back a few steps. His eyes softened slightly, as he held her panting, weak form in his arms.

"....you are infected...." he spoke quietly.

She slowly shook her head, struggling to regain her foothold.

"....I....am fine...." she breathed, slightly jerking away from the embrace.

A chatter of German behind them gave pause to Edmund's response, as he turned to see two security guards slowly approaching them....

....hands grazing their holsters....

Guant stiffened his posture, trying to relax his expression into a calm, pleasing manner.

"{Good evening....}" he replied.

"{Sir....may I see your pass?}" one of the guards asked, both still holding their hands against the guns on their hips.

"{Ahh...our passes....}" Edmund smiled pleasantly.

He began patting down his coat, as if searching.

"....break the lights...." he mumbled.

Lykopis glanced at him, confused.

"...what?" she half-whispered.

One of the guards caught a glimpse of the broad sword hanging off Lykopis' back. His eyes wandered down to the short-bladed knife, hugging her thigh.

"{Your friend seems to like knives....}" he said, his eyes gaining a certain trepidation.

"{Oh, her?}" Guant asked pleasantly, still searching for the passes. "{This is my stage partner....}....breakthelights...{...the Incredible Lady Lykopis....}.....breakthelights..."

Lykopis frowned, her mind still rattled by the sever fever that was overtaking her body. She glanced around, finally settling on the humming fluorescent bulbs above them.

"{Sir...please remove your hands from your coat pockets...}" the guard replied, unholstering his gun.

"{But, my passes are just in here....}" Guant explained with a smile, still searching frantically within his coat.

"{Raise your hands!}" the guard finally exclaimed. "{Now!}"

"...always on the field of battle..." Lykopis breathed.

Guant's hands slowly lifted, Lykopis beginning to do the same. Suddenly, her left hand ripped the knife from her hip, tossing it straight up, even as her right hand yanked the sword free.

Two shots fired as the blade came flashing into deadly view. Sparks cracked from the blade, as the walls gained two new holes. The shattering of glass from above followed, even as darkness enveloped everyone....

The next shots came, and went....a door at the far end of the hallway splintering from impact. The two guards jerked around frantically, trying to spot their prey in the shaded gloom of the hallway.

One of the men chattered into a shoulder radio, calling for the authorities, as the other took a few steps forward onto the crunching glass.

The two strangers were gone.....

*************************************

Adem's lanky fingers danced over the keyboard, his eyes taking in all the information he could absorb.

"Hey, Diff...."

"Yes, Ozzy?"

"Do you have any money?" the boxer asked. "Cause, I don't..."

Adem frowned, looking up from the screen. Ozzy was standing at the counter of the cafe', the woman behind the register waiting patiently for him to pay.

"I believe....this will do..." he replied, producing a few bills of German currency.

"You always carry German money around with you?" Baxter asked, paying the woman.

"Each of us were given an alottment of cash, as well as an expense card, by William...." he explained, resuming his scan of the computer.

"Nice." Ozzy nodded, walking over to his position. "This Paragon....seems like he has it all together...."

"William is quite efficient.....for a human....." he added.

"Heh..." Ozzy smiled.

He glanced around the Internet Cafe'. The normal evening crowd was beginning to fill up the place, as a light stream of Miles Davis drifted soothingly throughout the establishment.

"Ah." Different stated.

"Ah?" Ozzy asked, walking over behind his shoulder.

"Hans Mueller. PhD. Born in Glasgow, 1955. Head of the Board of Directors for the Primus Research Labs in Munich. Coordinator for the Alt-Earth Project in '95...." he read off clearly.

"So, he's the brains behind all of this?" Ozzy asked, sipping his mocha.

"Possibly. Also, possibly one of many." Different straightened up from the monitor. "Let's go."

The two figures left the cafe', walking briskly down the sidewalk.

"Okay, Jym has already given you the guy's home address...." Baxter said, keeping pace with Different's long strides. "...why did we have to stop at that cafe?"

"I wanted to see what else Mueller had his fingers in...." Diff explained. "....see if we are missing any connections...."

"Couldn't Jym have given you that info?"

"Of course. Easily. But, sometimes I just enjoy getting my feet dirty..."

"Don't you mean your 'hands'?"

Adem frowned.

"Do I?" he asked innocently.

"Come on. Seriously." Baxter continued. "Why did we stop?"

"Well, my athletic pugilist, it is as I said...." he replied, the two turning a corner. "....detective skills are like any other. If you do not stay in practice, they can become rusty...weak..."

"Okay. But, can't you do that some other time? I mean, aren't we rushing against a deadline?"

"For certain." Different nodded. "However, I needed to prove to myself that I was not losing my smell...."

"Touch."

"...and that as well. After missing something so extraordinarily obvious back at the Department of Health, I thought, perhaps, I might be slipping...."

"What?" Ozzy frowned. "What did you miss?"

"The fact that we have been under surveillance since the Department of Agriculture...."

"What?" Ozzy exclaimed. "You mean, we were followed?"

"As we are, right now...." Different nodded.

He immediately grabbed Ozzy's shoulder, catching the man before he could turn around.

"Please do not give us away yet...." Adem said. "....I would like to see how this all plays out...."

"Oh, no....was that tonight?" Drake said quietly into his cell. "I'm sorry. I completely forgot. Ye--...yes....yes, Jess, I know it was my idea....but, sweety, I can't make the schedule when it comes to this team---...well, yes, I am the field coordinator, but, William is still in char---...I promise---yes...I promise I'll make it up to you, okay? Heh. Well, tell Ms. Foana that I will personally stop by to see her son, okay? Tell her I'll bring him an official Nightwatch badge...."

Icarus scrambled around a lab table, studying the chirps from the equipment. He cautiously poured a cylinder of some green chemical into a test tube, giving it an eye-level swirl.

"....got to....know when to hold 'em.....know when to fold 'em...hmm-hmmm-hmmm-something-something about playing cards...." he sang quietly to himself, as he worked. "....know when to scold them....know how to mold them....hmmm-hmmm-hmmm-Kenny Rogers and something-something...."

"...you know..." Drake insisted in a low voice, standing off in the corner. "...the official Nightwatch Badge....from the fanclub? Yes, I know it's been defunct for awhile, but we still have alot of those in storage--....yes, dear, I know the Mayor won't be as satisfied with a badge....I'll set up formal meeting with the city board when I get home....well, you know, it's not like I didn't have a good excuse, okay? This plague has made its mark on the U.S. recently, so, you just explain to him that I am fulfilling my patriotic duty by helping to stop this thing. Heh....yeah, I know that's corny, but, I damn well bet he'll buy it....heh...."

".....'cause I'm a cowboy....on steel horse I ride...." Sidewinder continued, pausing to wrinkle his nose at the fumes from one of the tubes. "...I'm wanted...waaaaaaanted.....dead or alive..."

"...yes, I love you too, okay? I will. Promise. What about you? What are you going to do tonight? What? Oh, right. Forgot about the time difference. Okay, go back to sleep. You need your rest. I will. Right. Okay. Love you too, dear. Have a good morning. 'kay. Bye...."

"Wife tightening the chains?" Icarus grinned, pouring two tubes into a mixer.

"Eh...I forgot I had set up a neighborhood meeting with all of our neighbors....a 'get-to-know-the-superhero-next-door' kind of thing...." Drake shrugged, sliding the cell back into one of his many pockets. "Of course, everyone caught wind of it, and the damn city tried to make it some media event. Took Jess three hours to explain my absence."

"Ahhh, women always over-react to any little thing..."

"How we doing?" Drake said.

"How are we doing?" he replied, an arrogant tilt falling neatly into his response. "Well, while you are having it out with the ball-and-chain, I have been concocting a solution for all of this mess...."

"Really..." Drake said evenly. "And, where did you learn advance chemical theory?"

Icarus shrugged, removing another tube from the mixer.

"Well, most of it was already prepared by the company..." he said. "...I'm just adding a few zingers to it for maximum effect..."

"And, you have access to this factory...how again?"

"Simple." he stated proudly. "Money talks."

"Mmm-hmmm." Drake nodded. "And, daddy knows all the right people, huh?"

Icarus paused, looking up at him with scowling eyes.

"....something like that...." he mumbled with an almost pouting demeanor.

He poured a final tube into a large canister, and brought the canister up to eye level.

"Voila'!" he exclaimed. "Am I the shit, or what?"

"Do you expect an answer?"

Icky shot him the finger, strapping two canisters to his backpack equipment.

"...just need to connect a few pumps here..." he mumbled, working his nimble fingers over the pack. "...adjust the pressure hoses here...."

Drake's cell chirped, the man quickly answering it.

"Marshall." he said. "What? Where are you? Any word from Adem and Baxter? I understand..."

There was a pause, as he listened to the other end of the conversation.

"What are the symptoms? How bad? Right. Right. Okay, stay where you are, we're on our way..." he said, clicking the phone off. "That was Guant."

"Oh, I thought the baggage was calling to tell you to pick up some milk on the way home..." Icarus grinned coyly, even as he hoisted the pack onto his back.

"Lykopis has been infected." Drake replied seriously. "We're going to meet up with them in the city."

The two men immediately headed for the enormous factory doors, as Drake punched in a few numbers on his cell.

"I'm texting you the coordinates..." Drake mentioned, Icarus nodding as he checked his wrist screen. "...you fly ahead, and I'll meet you there as quickly as possible..."

"Understood." Icarus said, as they walked into the crisp night air.

Sidewinder pulled his night-gogs into place, a small chirp-and-hum following, as the sensitive lense came online.

"One thing, Icarus...." Drake added, pausing by the car.

"And what's that, oh-fearless-leader?" Sidewinder replied, beginning a start-up of the rocket fuel-intake systems.

"You refer to my wife as anything other than 'Mrs. Marshall' again, and I'll seperate your collar bones. Understood?"

Icarus chuckled, looking up to meet Drake's very, very serious stone-cold stare. His smile quickly faded, as he nodded.

"Sure, man...sure...sorry..." he replied.

Drake's normal smile returned.

"Be safe."

"You too..."

A crack of muted thunder, and gust of exhaust, and Icarus launched into the night....

"This the good doctor's house?" Ozzy said as they came to a driveway that rolled up to a ranch style house. The edifice looked fairly new and out of place with it's surroundings.

"Yes, it is," Adem answered.

"And we're still being followed?"

"The green car at the end of the block." The two began walking up the driveway. "I would have suspected anyone affiliated with Dr. Mueller would have made their move by now."

"Unless they're someone Mueller pissed off. In which case they're using us to track him down."

"Interesting scenario. Does that happen often?"

"Hey, I'm the expert on the wrong crowd doing crazy shit."

"Like chaining someone up and dumping them in the sewers?"

"Let's just drop it at that."

They reached the door. Adem tired to turn the knob to no effect. "Locked." He looked down the street. "And our friends seem to be gone as well."

"Good, then they won't see me doing this." Ozzy backed up a few feet. He took off running towards the door and slammed into it with all his might. The door proved to be thicker and of higher quality wood than he had originally thought. The wood splintered and exploded inwards just as he had imagined it; but his momentum had been totally lost upon impact. He stood motionless only long enough for his brain to begin to understand what was about to happen when gravity took over. The boxer fell to the floor with a mighty *thud*.

"Yes," Adem said as he stepped over his friend and into the room. He helped Ozzy back to his feet. "I would imagine that would have been quite and embarrassment had they seen that. We had better move quickly. If Mueller is in fact still here, he now knows of our arrival."

They make their way into the home. As they round a corner into another hallway, a green Audi pulls into the drive and stops in front of the once front door. Two men step out.

"She needs medical assistance, now!" Gaunt stepped into the lobby of Vanguard's German office seemingly out of nowhere, startling Penny Goodweather and causing her to shriek and drop the files she was working on and spilling them all over the floor of the room.

"Call Gustave! Tell him to get Macgregor ready for a patient!" Gaunt carried Lykopis into the hospital room and waited for Gustave to arrive.

"W-what's wrong with her?" Penny asked from the doorway.

Gaunt turned his head slowly towards the VE secretary. "She's been infected."

**************************************

Icarus Sidewinder flew through the skies, searching the mutated Brood XIII cicadas. He triangulated their last known position on his helmet's built in computer systems and veered towards that direction. His exuberance at being in the air was tempered slightly over anxieties about his performance. The spray would work. It had to. . .

**********************

Doc Paragon oversaw teams of scientists and labor crews as they sought to build a defense against the Brood insects. "The world's largest bug zapper," Some might say.

*****************************

Drake Marshall turned around as Icarus' trail faded in the skies and found himself in total darkness.

"Come." Gaunt's voice sounded around him. Within moments, he found himself standing next to Gaunt. "What's going on? Where's Lykopis?" he asked.

"I left her in sick bay at headquarters. We're going to find Ozzy and Adem and get her a cure."

********************

Ozzy Baxter and Adem Different made their way into Dr. Mueller's home, acting as if they did not suspect that they were being followed.

******************

Mueller himself was hidden away in his private lab in his basement. Frantically he'd searched. In his paniced state, it seemed to take him forever to find what he'd been looking for. He'd smashed and destroyed several years of equipment and research looking for. . .it.

Finally, he saw it. Directly in front of him. How could he be so careless? So stupid? It didn't matter now.

He picked up the small vial labeled "metagene extract. brood XIII dna." and poured the contents into a syringe. Rolling up his shirt sleeve, he wrapped a small length of rope around his arm and waited for a vein to come close to the skin.

Picking up the needle, he injected the serum into his arm and waited. . .

******************

"Adem," Ozzy Baxter said as he picked up a small batch of papers from a table and began reading over them.

"Yes?"

"What the hell is Nu:Genetics?"

The Vanguardians looked at each other for a moment before Different remembered the small drug bottle Gaunt had found in an earlier investigation.

Before he could answer, a voice from behind startled the two. "You're about to find out. . ."

Ozzy and Adem turned around. Two hispanic men with pistols were standing behind them. The clean-shaven man was the first to speak. "I am Armando Mairos. This is my associate Luiz Branco. You have two seconds to persuade us not to shoot you."

Ozzy spoke up. "Well, shooting me never seems to do much. I'm indestrucible. And he's an alien. No good ever came from shooting an alien."

Adem decided to clarify. "We're part of Vanguard. Perhaps you've heard of us?"

Mairos motioned for Branco to lower his weapon. "We thought you were with the doctor."

"You have beef with him?" asked Ozzy.

Branco sneered. "Armando and I are based in Columbia. We expected a shipment of insects with the metahuman traits." The tall man grinned. "There's a bit of a market for getting shots of metahuman traits. 'Nu-Genetics' is the offical name. 'Demonio' is the street name. Apparently, the German doctor has trouble controling his insects, and lost the shipment."

"We've lost forty million dollars so far because of him. We intend to make sure he pays for that."

Ozzy grinned. "Great. Now the Columbia drug lords are after this guy."

Mairos grinned. "We prefer 'Narcotic Capitalist'."

"I'll go with that," said Ozzy. These men seemed a little ruthless, but he liked them enough. "Now if we can only find Muller..."

Ozzy had an answer sooner than he wanted to. Heavy steps could be heard coming from the basement. Someone was stumbling up the stairs and was headed for the living room where Ozzy and Adem were with the Columbians. He dropped the papers and motioned for Mairos and Branco to aim their weapons at the basement door.

Dr. Muller opened the door. His eyes were somewhat dimmed, and his skin had turned dull gray. Mairos and Branco didn't wait for Ozzy to give the order. They fired their rounds right into Dr. Muller's chest.

No normal human could have withstood thirty bullets in the torso. But Dr. Muller was still standing, though his jacket had taken a beating. He grinned a little. Mairos looked down. The bullets were all on the ground, each with dented tips from colliding with a dense object.

"Mierda," said Branco. He turned to Mairos. "The bastard's already taken a shot of the meta-virus."

Mairos turned to Ozzy. "Any other ideas?"

Ozzy gave a pitiful look at Adem, who only shrugged. "I don't know," said Ozzy. "I make this shit up as I go along."

* * *

Dr. McGregor threw another needle into the biowaste basket. "Shite. This is not good. Let's go for the right arm this time."

Nurse Piper handed him another syringe. She tied off the right arm as Dr. McGragor stuck the needle into to collect blood. The trick with an IV injection was to find the vein and then pierce at just the right angle. It was harder on patients whose viens didn't pop up as well as others. McGregor missed, so he 'fished' for the vein by gently swinging the needle left and right as the tip was still in Lykopis's arm.

But for some reason, the needles weren't staying in. It slipped out, and because McGregor didn't apply pressure, the vein partially collapse. Now both of Lykopis's arms were bruised from impropper IVing. McGregor looked at the left arm, where he had first tried to draw blood. "Look at this. Her left's arms almost healed already."

Nurse Piper looked at Lykopis's chart. "She doesn't have any sort of superhealing ability."

"Not normally. But Gaunt said she was infected with the metavirus. So it makes perfect sense. The Miss here got stung by the a metagene that codes for superfast healing. Not unlike Mr. Baxter. Except that Lykopis's metabolism can't handle the new powers."

"Doctor...she's coming to..."

Lykopis opened her eyes wide. She looked at McGregor and was obviously trying not to wimper. "Shite...go ahead and bring the oxygen up to three...no...let's try two-point-five for now..." Lykopis rolled her eyes back and went down again.

"So what now, doctor?"

McGregor tossed the needle. Lykopis's system couldn't handle the virus, but the virus was preventing him from doing anything. "We can't give her any anti-viral injections, simply because we can't get a needle in long enough. And there's nothing oral we can offer her." He looked at the oxygen mask covering her mouth. Her eyelids were fluttering. "Best bet is to keep her sedated. We ought to have enough oxygen in that tank for another fourty-five minutes. Keep her under until Paragon says otherwise. I'll be back to check up on her later."

Nurse Piper brought the tank up to three before leaving Lykopis's room for other errands. Alone in her room, Lykopis slept, but as the virus in her body adapted to the high oxygen levels, her eyelids began fluttering again.

Mueller launched himself at the Columbians, knocking the guns out of their hands with inhuman strength. Picking them up off of the ground, his hands closed around their necks like vices.

Ozzy ran towards Mueller and attacked his abdomen with multliple lefts and rights as Adem put his hand on his chin and observed. "Interesting. . ." The alien nodded appreciatively.

"Down!" He heard a voice from behind him as something struck his knees, taking him to the floor of Mueller's living room. "Fascinating pattern, although I don't think it matches the couch." Adem commented on Mueller's carpet as Baxter flew over his head and collided with a coffeetable lamp.

"Are you okay?" Adem looked up and saw Gaunt pulling himself up. "Yes, I believe so."

Drake Marshall rolled and flipped past the flying bodies of the Columbians, as Mueller hurled them in the direction of the Vanguardians.

"Are these things really always necessary?" Different asked, ducking to avoid one of the Columbians.

"Yes, it seems so." Gaunt answered, sidestepping the other one.

Mueller ducked and laughed, his voice sounding like some amplified buzzing, as Drake's sword sliced into the wall. Kicking Marshall in the solar plexus, Mueller turned and bolted back down the stairway from whence he came, bolting the door behind him.

Taking a moment to regroup, the Vanguards and the Columbians stood before the doorway.

"So, what now?" Ozzy asked.

"Elementary, my boy, we go down." Different responded.

Without warning, a pair of hands suddenly burst from under the floorboards, grabbing Armando's ankles in a vice-like grip. The man barely had time to scream, his gun firing off a few shots into the splintering ceiling, as his body was jerked through the floor.

"Holy shit!!" Ozzy exclaimed, even as Branco started unloading a clip into the newly-created hole in the floor.

"He's still mutating!" Drake yelled.

The hands burst up through the floor again, taking Branco just the same.

"Back-off....now!" Marshall yelled, as everyone bolted for the still-open door.

Adem crossed the threshold, as he caught a yelp from behind. He spun to see Ozzy jerked down through the floor like the other two.

A smooth, flexible metal began to spindle and spread down over Adem's body, as he created functioning armor. He took two steps back towards the doorway, lifting his wrist to his mouth.

"Jym...we need back-up..." he stated.

A loud thunderous grunt came from underneath the house. Ozzy's form suddenly exploded through the floor, and straight through the front wall. He bounced a few feet across the lawn, his body sliding to a halt.

"I've got'em! I've got 'em!" he yelled, leaping to his feet with a snarl.

Gaunt looked back at him, even as a muscularly-disproportioned form climbed up through the hole. Blood oozed around its lips, beady black eyes gazing with an adversarial intent.

"Yesss....run...." the creature that was once Mueller stated.

It launched at Adem, Ozzy tackling the creature in mid-leap. The two barreled through one of the support-posts of the once-quaint porch, clipping the edge of structure, and rolled into the yard. Mueller quickly gained the upper hand, grabbing Ozzy by the throat. He hoisted the boxer into the air with one hand, driving him face-first into the hood of the green Audi. Metal crumpled around Baxter's head, Mueller driving his face into the engine block.

{Reinforcements.....incoming}

Mueller rared his fists into the night air, growling as he did so, prepared to ram Ozzy's struggling form deeper into the spewing metal....

It was at this moment....if one decided to listen for such things....that an artificial crack of thunder peeled from above.

A pair of strong hands wrapped around Mueller's raised wrists, jerking him straight up into the night sky at nearly two-hundred-miles-an-hour. The sheer G-force clenched the creature's body, unable to move for approximately three seconds.

Icarus only needed two.

With a high arc, he spun, releasing the once-scientist straight up into the night air. The creature roared as it flipped higher and higher, Sidewinder rolling upside down as gleaming silver pistols appeared in his hand, opening fire.

The sharpest aim this side of the Atlantic scoped two perfect shots straight through the creature's eye sockets. Smoldering bullets spun directly into the Mueller's brain with a spurt of blood, even as the arc of his trajectory was finally claimed by gravity.

Back on the ground, Ozzy struggled with heavy grunts, finally pulling his head free of the crumpled metal...

"...phah..." he spit, his face covered in hot, toxic liquid. "...transmission fluid...ugh...."

Drake's view was still centered on the night sky, watching as Icarus cut his pack nearly ten-feet from the ground, coming into a running land. He came to a dead stop, looking up at Adem with a panting ease. He quickly held three fingers up....

"...three...." he counted off. "....two............one....."

The body of Mueller slammed into the pavement of the road behind them, Sidewinder's cocky grin following.

"And THAT'S what it's like to be on my team, baby!" he exclaimed with a dramatic bow.

There was a pause, and a small growl could be heard from behind. Icarus' expression began to fade, as he rolled his eyes closed with a sigh....

"Hrm." Adem grunted, all the Vanguardians turning to see the creature tearing itself up from the pavement.

"Simple boys...." it growled, bloody eyesockets beginning to mend. "....this generation deserves its extinction...."

"...fuck me...." Ozzy sighed, tearing what was left of his t-shirt off. "....why do I always have to join this team Already In Progress ? Why can't I come in during a down-day...."

Icarus cursed, flipping his pistols into his palms.

Drake wiped a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth, bringing his sword up eye-level.

Adem cocked a single eyebrow, picking up what was left of the Audi's bumper, hoisting it against his shoulder like a bat.

Guant took a deep breath wincing at the bright street-light that was currently eating most of the shadows.

Ozzy sighed, clenched his fists, and vaulted towards the creature with a guttural yell of defiance....

Ozzy swung at Mueller's chin, his knuckles scraping against the ever hardening skin of his foe, while Drake and Icarus positioned themselves as backup.

"Adem?" Gaunt turned towards the detective while reaching into his coat pocket.

"Yes?" he answered, as Gaunt pulled something from his pocket. Gaunt handed him a gun.

"Shoot out the streetlamp."

"Is that not illegal? And where did you get that?" Diff replied, turning the gun around in his hand.

"Yes, and Mr. Armando dropped it."

"I. . .see." Adem responded holding the gun out in front of him.

Gaunt pushed his hand away and upwards, aiming it towards the lamp.

**************************

As Armando and Branco walked up the basement stairs towards the top of the house, they paused for a moment. "We're going to have to do this the hard way." Armando pulled a small medicine bottle out of his coat pocket.

"Are you sure, jefe?" Branco replied. "I mean, what if I turn into some horribly ugly monster?"

"Then no one will know the fucking difference, will they?! Just take one!" Branco emptied a couple of pills into the palm of his hand. Grabbing one with his fingers he placed it in his mouth and attempted to swallow. Armando did the same.

**************************

Ozzy Baxter ducked another swing from Mueller. Finally, he was in his element. Bobbing and weaving, the boxer shifted and danced around his foe, seeking a weakpoint.

Drake attempted a sidestrike with his broadsword as Mueller turned and his mouth split apart like an insect's firing a silken spray directly into Drake's face. "Shit!" The Vanguard field leader cried out. "Get this stuff offa me!"

"Now?" Adem asked.

"Now." Gaunt responded.

As Adem aimed and pulled the trigger, light was coalescing around Armando's eyes, as beams of energy struck out and blasted a large hole in the front wall of Mueller's living room.

Simultaneously, the wall exploded outward, the streetlights were shattered, and Mueller surrounded himself with a large, silken cocoon.

"Let's see," said Dr. McGregor as he finished mixing the solution. Elsewhere in the prep room, the enclave machine beep at the completion of it's cycle, and the centrifuge slowed down. McGregor called for Nurse Piper, and the two headed to Lykopis's room.

"I set the oxygen all the way to eight, and she's still starting to wake up again. But her blood pressure's dropping." She looked at the bag Ian was carrying. "What's that, sir?"

"Get some tubing. We'll need about sixty centimeters." He held up the bag. "Lykopis doesn't have the energy to maintain herself, right? So here's a concentration of protein. Forty times more concentrated than any jock's protien shake. Damn, I'm good."

They entered the room. Lykopis's eyes were opened but she wasn't responsive. She appeared not to noticed as Piper opened her mouth and inserted a flexible tube down the Greek's esophagus. "Watch out for her trachea, okay? It would be pretty embarassing to kill her now." About half of the tubing was now inside Lykopis, and the other half was in Ian's hands as he placed a funnel on top and poured the contents of his concoction down the tube. It was about as thick as oatmeal, so Piper forced it down to Lykopis's stomach. Eventually, the entire mix was pushed through the tube. "Check her pulse."

"Still pretty low."

Dr. McGregor pulled the rubber tube out of his patient. "Shite. At this rate, she's go into shock if we can't fix things." There was a shudder from the bed, and then a harsh rasping noise. Lykopis was awake again, and was trying to hack up the tracheal tubing that was down her throat. Her eyes went right and left, then finally settled on McGregor. They looked annoyed. The oxygen's effects had gone away completely. "Shite..."

Lykopis was trying to speak, but the plastic in her throat was preventing that. "Listen, you're in the hospital. I'm sure Paragon told you that I'm Vanguard Europe's physician, Doctor Ian McGregor." Lykopis's hacking accelerated. "Mr. Gaunt brought you in after you collapse, and the team ran several diagnosis on you...please stop trying to get up."

Lykopis pushed Piper off her and then pulled the tubing out of her mouth. She continued coughing. "If you had waited, I would have pulled it out for you. It appeared that you were infected with a particular strain of the metavirus that coded for accelerated healing. Unfortunately, your body could not supply enough protien for the process. We administer oxygen and Apomorphine, and then provided a concentrated form of protien to replenish your reserves."

"I cannot believe Gaunt thought I could not go on." She looked up at McGregor. "You are not that doctor that Mr. Baxter called a prick, are you?" McGregor said nothing, but the artery near his neck swelled and his lips tightened. "Please point me in the general direction out of this place."

What the hell was wrong with this girl? McGregor just rattled his brain coming up with a solution to keep her out of a coma. This girl should be praising him. Hell, they give out Nobel prizes for this sort of thing. Instead, the stupid princess wanted to leave. What part of 'hospilized' didn't she understand? "What? I don't think you realize your sitution, Miss Ly--"

"I understand the situation perfectly well. I am in here. The team is out there. I need to be with the team."

"But--"

"Besides, you said you fixed the problem. And you did such a wonderful job." Lykopis said this sweetly, but realized McGregor might be the sort that wasn't turned by a pair of batting eyelides. "Look, I am well enough to fight. I suggest you get out of my way."

"You can't possib--"

"You really think I am going to be caught sleeping when there is a fight? Get out of my way!"

McGregor tried to protest, but Lykopis was already up and running. She made her way downstairs. "Call Penny and get Jym to lock the doors. Don't let her leave here!" Nurse Piper ran from the room to contact Paragon's secretary. Meanwhile, McGregor's eyes began twitching.

* * *

Penny was about to contact Jym about the doors, when Paragon intercepted her on the phone. "Don't do it."

Penny hated conflicting orders. It messed up her organiztion. "But Piper said Dr. McGregor--"

"Let's indulge Miss Lykopis on this one. Worse case senario, she gets humbled. Best case senario, she gets some agression out."

"All right...I hope you're right."

The elevator door open, and Lykopis calmly walked out. "Afternoon, Penny."

"Good afternoon, Lykopis. Here are the keys to the car outside. I think if you take a left on Hassenberg you can reach the team in less than a half-hour. Drive safely."

"What's he doing?" Ozzy asked as he helped Adem pull the silk from Drake's eyes.

"It's... changing," Gaunt answered. His eyes were closed but still the man saw what was occuring within the shadows of the cocoon's inner wall. "Mueller's mutations are quickening. There was obviously more in that concoction than just locust DNA. His body is morphing into some hybrid meta-insect."

"A Superfly?" Icarus inquired.

Drake pulled himself to his feet. "We need to stop it." He picked up his sword. "I'm not going to let Mothra run wild in Kiel."

{Drake.} Jym's face buzzed to life on his cell phone. {Lykopis will be rejoining you in just a moment. I suggest you move.}

"What are you...."

{There is no time. She is about to take a left on Hassenberg.}

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lykopis held her foot down on the gas pedal as far as she could. She was used to being chauferred around from place to place, but navigating an automobile did not seem that difficult to her. The people leaping from the sidewalks into the safety of open shop doorways. She spun the wheel in her hand as she came to Hassenberg. Paying no heed to the red light suspended above her, the bumper of the vehicle swung in a wide arc, narrowly avoiding collision with other cars. Before her, the road was relatively clear. Her foot did not let up as the image of Munich road flashed away and was replaced by that of Dr. Mueller's driveway.

The team immediately noticed the speeding auto and reacted as quick as they could. Adem leapt straight into the air. Drake did a backflip out of the path of oncoming car. Icarus's jets came spit fire and propelled him upwards. Gaunt dissolved into nothingness. Ozzy ran as fast as he could out of the way, but the front bumper caught his leg. The boxer was sent twirling like a top, making him very dizzy by the time his body collapsed onto the ground. The car slammed to a halt, the frame wrapped around the cocoon. Inside, the airbag had deployed as the Spactial Inducer hummed to a stop.

"What else can go wrong?" Drake asked while Ozzy was trying to decide if he was going to vomit or not.

Another wall of Mueller's house burn away from a crimson beam. From inside the house, the VE team leader could hear a Columbian voice yelling, "My eyes! What did that stuff do to my eyes?!"

Drake readied his sword. "Why do I keep asking rhetorical questions?"

There was no way to get out of the driver's door. Lykopis crawled into the back seat jumped out of the car. There was a cut on her forehead, but nothing else. "You just won't stay in one spot, will you?" shouted Drake. Lykopis just grinned. "By the way, I think you missed a mailbox back there!"

The cocoon trembled, and Lykopis took the hint. She grabbed Ozzy by the collar and drag him to where Drake and Adem were standing. "Look, the last car I drove myself was a Cadillac back in the fifties. It did not have power stearing, anti-lock brakes, or a CD player. I was confused."

"Yeah, well, did you bring anything useful?"

Lykopis held up a crossbow. Drake whistled. "Nice toy."

"Thanks. I use it to hunt caribou." Ozzy groaned, and Lykopis tried to pull him up. She looked back at Drake and Adem. "The infected gave me some sort of 'accelerated healing'. They fixed me up so I can fight." She looked back at the cocoon. It was starting to shake. "What is that thing?"

"Dr. Muller," said Adem in an emotionless tone.

Lykopis looked confused. "He has looked better."

Drake pointed at her weapon. "Can your crossbow take him out?"

"With pleasure."

Lykopis aimed the crossbow and fired. The metal arrow pierced the tissue, sending liquid spewing everywhere. Icarus could be heard above complaining. "I just got this uniform cleaned!"

The cocoon ruptured, and Dr. Muller stepped out. He had a hard exoskeleton with insect wings and six legs, all ending in claws. His antenae picked up on his opponents, and he turned towards the first target he spotted -- Icarus, still flying high in their air.

"Look at the way he moves," said Adem. "He can smell us well enough with those antenae of his, but he can't use them to located us. So he has to rely on sight."

Drake completed the thought. "And Icarus is the only one that's moving."

{Drake, I have Paragon transmitting on emergency frequency delta-alpha-four....opening wav.file...} Jym's voice announced, an brief crackle following. It was immediately replaced with the voice of VE's founder. {Marshall! What's your situation?}

"Can't talk now, Doctor...." he replied to the cell-link attached to his left ear, circling back away from Mueller.

{Well, whatever's going on, it's getting the Brood's attention!}

"What?"

{We've detected the main swarm heading your way....they altered their immediate course about three minutes ago....}

"Position?"

{Twelve miles north, and closing at roughly seventy-miles-an-hour....I've gotten word to the authorities to stay clear of your position, and to begin evacuation of the northern edge of the city....}

"Dammit...." Drake murmured. "....it's got to be Mueller.....he's atttacting them...."

{There is no way I can have our contingency device ready in less than forty-minutes.....add travel-time to your location....}

"I copy." Drake nodded. "Best possible speed.....we'll hold the line...."

{Transmission wav.file closing} Jym announced.

Seven seconds.

That's all it took.

Synapses fire, neurons channeling signals near the speed of light. Patterns link, lock, and form.

Two seconds for three passive-combat scenarios. A third for sixteen aggressive ones.

Three seconds for assessement of speed, strength, tactical potential, and calculative ratios of damage control given the immediate group of players.

One second to measure defense strategies, and extraneous weak points concerning the power level of the team.

Seven seconds. And, Drake Marshall's brain synched into a tactical machine....

"Gaunt, Sidewinder!" he yelled. "Meet the swarm head-on! All possible measures! Jym, relay coordinates!"

Gaunt nodded once, folding his body into the shadows in a single back-step. Simultaneously, a ball of exhaust exploded from Icarus, launching him across the night sky.

"Ozzy, Lykopis, Mueller's yours!"

The indestructible boxer and the greek warrior queen began slowly circling the deformed creature.

"Adem, you and I will handle those two!" Drake ordered, pointing towards the figures lumbering out the front of the decimated home.

"We will?"

"Yes, Adem...." he replied, cocking his sword. "....we will."

"I am not much of a fighter, Drake..." Adem added.

"Then, you had better learn fast...." Marshall said. "....armor-up.....now....."

"You have never loved me. You just wanted me for my money and power." The man crossed the large den of the mansion. His designer suit jacket was unbuttoned with the right hand in the process. "I have been a fool to ever think that you could ever love a man.... like me." He pulls his left hand from his pants pocket. It is deformed and shrunken down to the size of a post-it note. The little fingers moved ever so slightly.

The woman wiped away tears from her eyes. "Roger, you're wrong. I have always loved you. Even when your twin brother framed you for when he took your estranged half sister to the mountains, raped her, and then murdered her, and then raped her again, I stood by you. When you had that sex change opperation and pranced around town as Roginia, I waited until came to your senses and had the operation to change you back."

"You were a damned drunk that whole time," he shot back. "I had to spend a fortune to send you and all three of your other personalities to rehab on multiple occassions. You've used my money to buy expensive presents for your 'boyfriend' ever since you moved in three years ago. I swear that you love that chimp more than you do me." He pointed with his tiny little finger at the chimpanzee sitting on the couch in a three piece tuxedo and a rolex on his arm.

"You're right, she said walking over to the chimp and picking him up into her arms. "I do love him. But, you see, he's more than just a pet chimp. He's....... my brother."

With a shocked look on their faces, Albert and his wife stared at the TV screen. Snuggled up together on the love seat, the semi-retired thiry-something dot commer enjoyed the company of his loving spouse and the all too realistic joy of his favorite 'story'.

The wall fell in. The rubble crushed the TV and caused the couple to leap backwards off their couch. From under the rubble came a moan and a slender arm. Adem Different pulled himself up from the wreckage. Branco stepped into the hole in the wall he had made with the alien's body. "I warn you," Adem said getting his feet on steady ground. "I know Zzractarian Martial Arts." His hands flew fast to different spots on the Columbian's body. He stopped and stood watching Branco. Unfortunetly, that is all that Branco did as well. "I assure you," Different continued, "that if you were of Zzractarian physiology, you would be in a great deal of pain right about now." Branco reared back and let loose a concussive force from the finger tips that sent Adem flying through the wall behind him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Icarus eyed his control panel on his wrist as he approached the swarm. "Alright, let's give this baby a shot." He pushed a button. His chemical elixir from the labs poured out of one of his exaust vents. The pilot dived at the swarm and pulled up seconds before impacting with it. "Heh!" he chuckled a little to himself out loud. Stray cicadas slapped against the screen of his helmet. "Icarus Sidewinder, crop duster extraordinare."

Armando let out a roar as he opened his eyes again. Drake dodge the beams, which blew a hole out of the last wall of Meuller's house and into the neighbor's patio. "What the hell is wrong with you? We want Muller too!"

"Ah!" said Armando, shutting his eyes again. He turned his head this way and that, hearing for his opponenet. Drake didn't make a sound. "Where are you, German bastard? We want our goods. Call these men of yours off!"

Adem crashed into the neighbor's backyard, upsetting the table and chairs. Branco approached where the detective lay. Drake could hear Adem shouting. Well, sort of shouting. He seemed to be talking loudly in an alien language. "Adem?"

"Derezzimeemeesurel...don't interrupt me...socellerizzimeenayresolou..."

Branco began swaying. Armando, eyes still shut, began rocking back and forth. What the hell is he doing? Drake listened to the words. There was nothing special about them. Except those words were the only thing Drake could hear. All other background noises vanished. Whoa...this is all so nice sounding. Sounding. This is great...

Branco, who was grinning like a child at this point, crashed onto the ground, and didn't seem to mind falling on his face. Armando fell backwards, arms spread eagle-styled, with a similar smirk on his face. Pretty little tune, pretty little music... Drake felt his knees gave way as he fell towards the ground. So sweet to hear...

Lanky arms grabbed him before his face hit the floor. Drake looked up. Adem was holding him up. "Jeez," said Drake, dusting the dirt of him. "What did you do?"

Adem grinned. "Zeemellian hypnosis. Their entire language, if spoken with the right accent, can induce narcolepsy into almost any other species. Its how they avoid being invaded."

Drake nodded. "Brilliant."

*** *** ***

Lykopis and Ozzy both crashed into the small truck parked on the street at the same time. Lykopis broke the driver window and fell into the cab, while Ozzy hit the metal side of the bed and crashed onto the street.

Both stood up at the same time. Ozzy sat with his back against the truck, and Lykopis's legs and head were sticking out of the window as she tried to get the rest of her body out. Lykopis pulled some glass out of her shoulder. "I am going to miss this virus a little bit."

Ozzy motioned to the giant insect Muller had become. "Careful. You might turn into him."

"Right. I take it back." She pulled herself out of the truck. "I wish I had brought a blade. Or an ax."

"Sorry babe. No can help there."

Lykopis was still thinking. "Or at least a hammer. Then I could do some real damage."

Ozzy looked into the bed of the truck. "Shit. There's a tool box back here." He pulled out a sledgehammer. "Can you do anything with this?"

Lykopis grinned. Somehow, the smile seemed very out of place on her usually grimmacing face. "Can I?" She grabbed the sledge. "I spent eighteen years with the Vikings. You know, the people that worship Thor and his hammer? There was this very interesting fighting style I learned there..."

*** *** ***

Icarus felt a pain on his wrist. One of the stay cicadas hadn't died on impact when it struck Icarus's uniform. "Shit...Gaunt, I've been bitten!"

Sparks flew from the sizzling edge of the ballpeen hammer, as the metal collided yet again with the thick, leathery hide of the brutish monster. Grunts came quick and easy, as she ducked, spun, and whirled it around to catch Mueller in the side of the head.

The creature roared with more disdain than pain, flailing its' right arm at the dancing goddess. Strands of ebony hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. Her teeth clenched, Lykopis thrust a kick where Mueller's ribcage should be, barely halting the raging behemoth.

She backflipped once, the creature barely missing its target this time. Coming back up with a fluid motion, she sprung like a cat, raring the hammer high above her head, screaming with vibrant fury.

The mallet slammed down against his cranium, sparks flying again. Ozzy instantly seized the moment, leaping onto the back of the beast. Wrapping his arms into a chokehold, Mueller jerked back and forth, Baxter's legs flailing like a ragdoll.

"HIIIIT HIIIMMM!!!" Ozzy roared, straining to hold on.

Lykopis began smacking the mallet back and forth across the creature's head, quick, hard swings coming faster and faster. Drake dove-and-rolled up behind the creature, slashing where Mueller's achilles heel should be. A crack of sparks and brief flash of drizzling smoke came from the impact, Mueller not even registering the feeling.

"HHIIIIT HIIIIM!!" Ozzy yelled again.

"I AM!!" Lykopis yelled back, getting pissed off at not being able to do any real damage.

Adem studied the conflict from the yard, grimacing as he racked his brain for any solution.

It was then that he heard it.

Sharing frequencies with dogs and dolphins, he could hear the beating almost a full minute before it ever got into normal human auditorial range.

"...what is..." he mumbled, looking up over the horizon for the sound.

And, suddenly, two black helicopters roared overhead, spotlights snapping on instantly. The wind kicked up with the loud, booming thump of the blades, as the chopper came to a hovering stop over the street.

"What the hell now...." Drake said, squinting against the spotlights from above.

Ropes dropped by the dozens, as a squad of soldiers, decked in gray camos, night-gogs, and supplementary firearms, slid down them. Fifteen of them hit the ground running in under four seconds.

There was no sound. No orders. No voices. They moved instantly, and precisely. Four of them split open a temp-net from their belts, hoisting it together, as two of them circled around Mueller, taking positions.

One of the soldiers took a circular, disc-shaped device, twisting it. He threw it with expert aim, the disc sticking to Mueller shoulder.

The creature roared as a few hundred-thousand volts coursed through him. Ozzy flew from the monster's back, the charge propelling him into the street, even as Mueller crashed to the pavement.

Lykopis jerked as the monster dropped, hammer still in hand. Before she could even register the sound, a single soldier rammed the tip of specialized shotgun into her back, pulling the trigger.

Shrapnel exploded from her chest, as she was thrown face-foward to the ground. Drake was instantly there, his face contorting into fury. In a single motion, he knocked the gun from the soldier's hands, tossing a single precise flick of fingers at the soldiers throat.

It was to his, and everyone else surprise, that the soldier.....caught the hand. Perfectly. A centimeter away from his esophagus.

Marshall's eyes didn't even have time to widen as the soldier, wrapped his wrist in a lock, grappling him down into a perfect holding manuever. Drake countered with a slip of his other arm, coming around into the ribcage of the soldier.

Which was blocked. As was another strike. As was, even, another one.

Drake took a defensive step back, blocking a thrusting kick from the silent figure, suddenly, spinning his arm behind him to block an attack from a second soldier.

Ozzy jumped from the pavement, running at the two men ganging up on Marshall. A forearm came suddenly, clotheslining him in the throat. Baxter hit the ground, back-flat with a loud grunt.

The soldier stared at his still-outstretched arm, the bones just below his elbow protruding from his skin. And, still, no sound. The soldier merely grabbed the broken arm, pulling it against his chest.

Ozzy jumped to his feet throwing a quick uppercut, the soldier lurching his head backwards, feet still planted firmly. The fist missed his chin by a good six inches, as the soldier quickly, and expertly, tied his own forearm against his bicep.

The soldier kicked one leg up, blocking a staggering punch with his kneecap. Within the five seconds Ozzy had been off the ground, the soldier had already tied his arm off, and now had his other free to work.

The soldier easily dodged three more shots, before finally slapping something against Baxter's forehead. Ozzy reached up to grab the chunk of plastique that was stuck to his head.

The soldier....having backflipped three times on one arm with a perfect grace....simply hit the detonator.

Ozzy's body ripped across a good portion of the pavement, sliding into three more cars.

Adem grimaced over the noise and sudden intruding confusion. Everything had happened so fast. Two minutes, three seconds, to be exact. He began to take step forward, wanting to help but unsure of how....

"I love this part."

Adem spun to his left, a single figure standing next to him. He hadn't heard him come up. Where did he come from? The copters?

"The confusion. The chaos." the man said.

He was in his obvious mid-to-late twenties. Light brown hair, coming down to just the bottom of his neck, he kept it pulled around his ears. A small patch of chin hair matched in color, hands sitting deep in the pockets of what looked to be a gray, military-issue airborne jumpsuit.

....and a single, gold earing adorning his right ear.....

"Right now, Marshall's really freaked out." he said. "I bet he's pissing in his pants. He's confused, see? This is unusual for him. It's making him uncertain. He doesn't uderstand the situation. He doesn't understand that weird little feeling in the back of his head...."

Adem turned with the man's gaze, watching as Drake was now parrying against three soldiers at once. His sword now in full use, he was barely holding them back.

"You know what that feeling is? You know what that nagging thought is?" the man asked Adem. "He's wondering why he can't get the upperhand...."

Adem noticed the other soldiers had now loaded Mueller's form onto the black, teflon net.

"...he's wondering....why is this so familiar?...." the man said.

He turned, staring at Adem with a slight smile.

"For some people, it's hard to look into a mirror....."

With that he began walking towards the street.

"Wait...who are you?" Adem asked, beginning to follow.

The man stepped out into the streets without a word. Adem took a deep breath, and began running for him. He wasn't sure who the man was, or what was suddenly happening, but, he wasn't going to just let him walk away.

Three military-issue assualt rifles came to bear on the alien, halting him dead in his tracks. His clothes had instantly reasserted their metallic covering, leaving only holes for breathing. Bullets ricocheted by the dozens from the metallic weave, even as one soldier dropped a small gas grenade. The nose holes in Adem's suit instantly closed tight.

"Gentlemen...." Adem's mysterious friend announced to the group of soldiers. "....two minutes worth of mustard gas, and he can hold his breath for probably at least seven or eight, given original estimations..."

He looked around at the soldiers.

"Who threw the grenade?" he asked.

One of the soldiers held his hand up. The man nodded to another soldier, who instantly spun and shot the first soldier once through the head.

Drake, having come to a dead halt....a bit bloody, very sweaty, panting constantly.....stood with sword up, circled constantly by four soldiers. He glanced at the sight of the dead soldier, his expression one of fury.

Two other soldiers grabbed the body of the dead one, placing it on a second net. Even still, a third one came down the ropes. He whipped a small flamethrower from his backpack, torching any and all blood samples on the ground.

The man in the jumpsuit glanced over at the still inert-Adem, trapped in a fog of mustard gas, the chopper's loud blades twisting the gas around the area, quickly diluting the consistency of the threat.

"...no peeking, okay...." he smiled.

"Gaunt!" Drake yelled towards his wrist. "Come in firing!"

Edmund Gaunt suddenly vaulted from the shadows near the home, warping shadow-demons into existence.

The group did not budge, as the man in the jumpsuit said single word into his commlink. Twelve more spotlights flared into existence from the copters above, phosphorescent tubes starting to rain into the streets.....

....lighting every shadow within the block......

Edmund sneered, his demons dissolving instantly.

"Who the FUCK are you people?!" Drake demanded.

The man in the jumpsuit stared at him briefly. Then, with the word 'Go', the soldiers began retreating to their ropes....

"You'll find out......soon enough....." the man in the jumpsuit replied.

The soldiers evacuated completely, the choppers zooming into the night.

Silence filled the street again, except the man in the jumpsuit was still there.

Drake brought his sword up.

"Seems you missed your ride...." he snarled, beginning towards the casual stranger.

The stranger smiled.

".....appearances can be deceiving...."

And with one word, Drake was chilled to the bone....

".......slide........"

Rolling like mercury, quasi-metallic alloy spun from the earring. It smoothed over the man's form, coating him entirely in a gold-bronze armor, with a transparent-titanium blue faceplate.

Anti-grav generators hummed with a rolling bass....

{{Gilgamesh Armor......Online.....}} the automated voice rang in his helmet.

;;;Be seeing you;;; the man's computerized voice echoed out through the helmet speakers.

The ground shook briefly, as the anti-grav pistons flared, shooting the figure straight up into the night sky...

"...oh jesus..." Drake gasped.

"...what?" Adem said, the weave having smoothed away from his face, looking up with Drake.

"....the Ameristar armor...."

Icarus Sidewinder pulled himself back on course, his head jerking back into place from the momentary blackout. He wished he could wipe the sweat from across his brow, but his helmet prevented him from doing so.

He glanced down at his hand and wondered how long it would take for the venom to take effect. Looking behind him, he noticed the swarm following him closely. He flipped a switch on his belt and secondary thrusters kicked into life, as he attempted to lead the bugs away from the heavily populated city areas.


******************************

Swarms of the Brood XIII cicadas barreled over the farmlands of Kiel, eating whatever was in their path. Paragon's teams of laborers and technnicians worked feverishly to prepare the enormous "bug zappers" in time. Would it be enough?

************************

"Dammit!" Drake Marshall shouted, striking at another flood light with his blade, shorting it out. "I feel so helpless!"

The Vanguardians collected the lights in a pile, smashing them and breaking them as they did so.

"Can't you do something, Gaunt?" The field team leader asked.

"What would you have me do, Drake?" Gaunt asked, smashing the light, a slight smile breaking across his face as he did so.

"I dunno, can't you just wave your hands and wipe away the bugs or something?"

"And how would I do that? There are thousands if not more of these things all over the German farmlands. I am one man. I cannot fly. How would you suggest I reach them hundreds of feet in the air? Strap one of those ridiculous rockets on me? And then what? What am I to do up in the sky with no shadows, Marshall?"

Before Drake could answer, Lykopis sat up, hacking and wheezing loudly, gasping for breath as her internal organs began regrowing attempting to repair themselves, an aspect of the metaviral infection she'd acquired.

"Shit." Marshall gaped, wide eyed at the site.

"Indeed." Gaunt responded.

Icarus raced against the night, and the darkness raced with him. Thousands upon thousands of the Ciccada's rolled across the sky behind him. Their darkness, ebony even against the nestled half-moon on the horizon. Keeping a mere four-foot pace ahead of the swarm, Sidewinder's teeth clenched with the sheer g-force. His body shook violently, not sure whether it was the massive turbulence roaring around him, or, the oily venom that crawled his circulatory system.

"...come on....come on...." he hissed quietly.

Waves of naseua and dizziness washed over him in rotating patterns. A small throb of pain had lulled its way into existence, crawling along the left side of his chest. He strained to focus, the dim horizon spinning around him at haphazard intervals. He struggled, a strong mix of courage and arrogance pushing him on.

Courage, as he rocketed almost three-hundred-miles-an-hour, leading the swarm away from the populated areas.....

....arrogant, as he absolutely would not allow his last stand to be....

"...against....a fucking bug..." he demanded.

And, as all hope had begun to become darker with the night that followed him, and the odds became that much slimmer..........his cell phone began ringing.....

********************

"...come on....come on...." Adem mumbled to himself, staring at his wrist screen.

Gaunt paced directly behind him, apprehensive, and ready.

"...Jym..." Adem insisted, as the ringing sound continued.

{Not yet.}

"All I need is a connection..." Adem replied sternly.

The ringing sound of the cell continued.

{Not yet.}

"Come on, Icarus." Drake said outloud, standing directly to Adem's left.

Gaunt paced back and forth, his hands folded behind him...

The cell continued to ring.

Ozzy was knelt next to a still-sitting Lykopis. He braced her as she threw up excess blood, that had collected in her stomach, for the third time since regrowing a good portion of her lungs.

"Jym." Adem demanded.

{Not yet.}

"Dammit..." Drake said sharply, folding his arms in a pensive clutch.

The cell phone continued to ring.

Then, suddenly, a small click....

Hey, this is Icarus....I can't come to the phone right now, but if you want to leave your name, number and---

"Jym, lock on and start real-time relay!" Adem barked.

{Locking-trace.....three....two....}

Gaunt immediately clicked his cell phone on, spun on his heel, and took a single-step leap directly into the deep, dark shadows....

********************

Twelve Miles North

....Gaunt vaulted from the shadows, his coat flapping from the sudden burst of atmosphere. Boot heels clicked with the pavement, as Jym's voice continued through the cell phone....

{Eighteen miles, northeast.....}

.....and Gaunt vaulted straight into a different shadow.

Bursting back out eighteen miles, northeast, he spun scanning the horizon...

{Recalculating for velocity/trajectory....two miles...}

With a fierce grunt, Edmund threw himself back into the shadows....

********************

Icarus could feel it slipping away.

He could hear the horrendous buzzing crawling from behind, getting closer....and closer. His path veered back and forth, struggling to make one last effort...one last resistance to the inevitable. And, in that effort, he veered straight up....

"....won't....take me.....sonsofbitches...." he breathed, consciousness finally slipping away.

And with that, his pack's failsafe kill-switch cut in, the rocket's thrust dying instantly.

As the momentum finally reached its absolute apex, for one brief second, Icarus Sidewinder floated free of gravity...his body turning silently through the starry night.

Then, as with all things, gravity claimed him again, his body dropping like a stone.

The wind tore around his unconscious form, flapping the leather of his now-shredded bomber-jacket. He dropped straight through a portion of the swarm that was rising to chase his previous ascent.

He would have been very happy to know that, at that speed, his body shattered at least twenty of the locust on his path towards the earth.

As he fell, a figure leapt from the shadows, to come to a final stop on top of a nearby watertower....

{Seventy-five feet, straight up....falling fast....}

"I see him!" Gaunt barked, breaking into a full sprint across the support walk of the tower.

He ran hard, straight for the corner of the railing, Icarus zooming by, directly in front of him. And, without a second thought, Edmund Gaunt performed a remarkably dignified dive....

....straight over the edge.

The bottom-half of his coat snapped against the falling wind, Edmund's eyes narrowing with control.....and an inky darkness.

He plummeted after Icarus, and the shadows of the farmlands below began to froth and swirl...

"I've got him!" he yelled at his cell.

Tossing it away, his arms opened wide.....

********************

"I've got him!"

Adem tapped his screen once...

"Incoming."

********************

The MRC
London, England

Within the thirty stories that make up the Metahuman Research Center's main hospital, there resides approximately fifty operating rooms. Of those fifty, fifteen are designated for minor surgical procedures, and analysis. Ten are for out-patient sessions and the like. Ten more are outfitted for bio-hazard-related injuries or conditions.

The remaining fifteen, however, sit alcoved with one section of the twentieth-floor. A single, double-wide hallway leading to the branching of rooms, it would be an almost normal architectural flair for any hospital, based on proximity to secure labs and needed facilities. Almost normal, except for one condition.

Seven-layers of heavy-woven fire-proof drapes, olive in color, hang staggered down the main hall. Each layer so thick, no exterior light may get through. The lack of light is significant, as well, in the rooms themselves. Absolutely no electronic devices or systems possess lights of any kind. No blinking dots, or glowing screens.

Nothing but the absoluteness of the darkness itself.

For the senior staff of physicians, it is the Alpha-One wing of the hospital. The priority-clearance trauma ward. A number of rooms, fully armed with every possible medical treatement device, specially-designed with the best technology in the world.......all held patents of Paragon Industries, of course.

For the rest of the emloyees here, it holds a singular nickname. Born from the waves upon waves of thick curtains, they call it, simply, 'The Theater'.

And presently, it was just outside the last layer of curtains, in front of the nurses station that coordinates The Theater, where a blue light began to pulse with a ringing alarm....

The nurse jerked up from his clipboard, as the alarms began to sound. He raced to the control switch at the station, picking up a red phone.

"Theater Blue! Theater Blue!" his voice sounded throughout the hallways.

A frenzy of activity suddenly began, as nurses and doctors raced into procedure. The curtains slowly began drawing back on their automated pulls, as light synched-on down The Theater's main hallway in unison.

In the far wing, Dr. Ian McGregor stood studying the chart of one of his patients....

"Well, Mr. Blake....it looks like your wounds are healing nicely..." he stated to the blonde man laying in front of him. "....of course, I must say that I'm still having trouble writing my report. You say this was a serpent bite?"

"The Midgard Serpent, actually...." Blake responded.

"...Midgard.....right...." Ian nodded with a dry expression.

Theater Blue! Theater Blue!

Ian immediately jerked into action, shoving the clipboard to his nurse, racing out the door.

In a matter of most convienence, an intern was racing by with an open stretcher. McGregor hopped straight onto the stretcher, the intern never pausing.

Nurse Piper raced up to keep pace with Ian's rushing stretcher, tossing him another clipboard.

"Whot'de have?" he barked, studying the papers.

"A phone-in from Paragon's team...." Piper explained, dodging another nurse, as she and the stretcher raced by. "....viral poisoning....same as with Lykopis..."

"Who is it?"

"Icarus Sidewinder...."

"The Russian kid?"

"Yeah..."

"Were going to need a stasis-field-generator, about a quart of adrenaline, and have the bio-boys on stand-by!"

"They're already there!" she replied, as they rounded the corner to the alcove.

McGregor hopped the stretcher, running the rest of the way down the hall. He and Piper flew past a team of doctors prepping the secondary operating units, bursting through the primary doors.

"What's his condition?" Ian announced, racing into a room full of nurses and surgeons.

"Secondary-shock, possible defib..." Dougie Smith replied, helping the others roll the body over.

Gaunt was still standing next to the bed, as some of the others started hooking IV's and tubes to the man. One of the interns hoisted his pack off, as two others began cutting his clothes.

"I want some pads in here stat!" Ian barked. "All non-essentials piss off out of here!"

Two of the interns backed out of the room, as Ian brushed past Gaunt.

"That means you too, spooky!" he said in passing.

"Will he be okay?"

"We'll let you know, now GO!"

Gaunt started to reply, then, just accepted it and walked briskly out the door.

Ian started listening for a heartbeat, glancing up at Piper who was panting heavily from the jog....

"...you really need to get into shape...." he remarked.

Down the hall, Gaunt stepped into a small office, turning out the lights....

Most people probably thought shrapnel was invented sometime during the World Wars. Lykopis knew better. It had been designed by Lieutenant Henry Shrapnel of the Royal Artillery back in 1801. It had been used by the British against the Dutch. The only reason Lykopis even could remember the invention of shrapnel was because back in 1787, the Lieutenant demonstrated his firing device to General O'Hara. The general and Lykopis were spending 'quality time' at Gilbralter. O'Hara had been impressed but did not see any reason to take action.

Shrapnel eventually became a Lieutenant Colonel and was awards 1200 pounds a year for his services to the British government. Lykopis never did find out what happened to O'Hara, but after failing to endorse the new artillery, Lykopis found herself bored with the general. Shrapnel's invention would turn the tide of countless battles. Like Lykopis, Henry had been interested in how to kill more efficiently. Lykopis enjoyed his ambitous company.

"Can you talk yet?" asked Drake.

Lykopis coughed one last time. "Yes." Ants were collecting around the bits of flesh. Lykopis was use to battle scenes and seeing body parts fly off a man. It was different when the body parts were her own. "So Icarus was bitten? He is down?"

Adem nodded. "That's what it looks like."

Gaunt reappeared from the shadows. He spotted Drake answering his cell phone. "Icarus is with McGregor. Any updates?"

Drake nodded. "Hold on...yes...yes...right. I'll tell them." He hung up. "They said to be on alert. Paragon's going to try to activate his 'zapper'."

"I'm interesting in seeing how Paragon addressed the problem," said Adem. "How are you going to kill a bunch of small airborne targets at once?"

Ozzy shrugged. "Maybe it's full of shit."

"That is what they said about Shrapnel," said Lykopis.

Ozzy turned. "Huh?"

Lykopis opened her mouth for a lengthing explaination, but decided against it. "Nevermind." Ozzy offered his arm and pulled the Amazon up. "Ouch!"

"Yeah, you zapped me."

Adem noticed strands of Lykopis's hair were on end. He reached for a lamppost and felt a small shock. "What does Paragon have in mind..."

*** *** ***

Paragon shouted to the mechanics. "Are we ready yet?"

"Machinery's operation, sir!"

"Good." Paragon spoke into his headset. "Jym, you located the brood yet?"

{Spotted them. I have a lock on them. Should I warn the team about the countdown?}

"Yes, Jym. Give them a heads-up."

Icarus was flying again. Mainly because Dr. McGregor had been unusally generous with the Apomorphine. The gas running down the tracheal tubbing was putting Icarus through a nice trip.

Shit, this is fun...look at me now, Pop...

While Icarus was on his narcotic flight, Ian McGregoer took a look at his blood through the elctron microscope. "The first blood test didn't detect anything abnormal...although flying couldn't have been too healthy." At least this patient is staying in bed.

"Dr. McGregor?" Ian spun around. Miss Goodweather was standing at the door. "Paragon wanted me to check up on Sidewinder." She readjusted her suit. "It's nice to be in England again, even if it's only for fifteen minutes."

"Piper let you through?"

"Not really. I just distracted her by asking one of the computers to crash." McGragor's right eye began fluttering. "Don't worry, it's back to normal by now." She looked at Icarus. "What's wrong with him?"

McGregor laughed. "Open one of his eyes."

Penny went over to the bed and obeyed. She let out a faint gasp and walked back. "I didn't know eyes could contract that much."

"They don't, normally. The only reason I figure out what the metavirus was because Icarus regained conciousness for a moment. Apparently, he could tell I had a needle in my pocket."

"I can see your coat pocket," said Penny, looking at Ian's white doctor's jacket.

"My shirt pocket. Anyways, seems like Sidewinder's not too fond of getting shots."

"Oh. Have you any cure yet?"

"'Have you any cure yet?' What, does Paragon think I have the cure for AIDS in my cupboard? I shite vaccines from my ass? I'm a doctor, not a fucking miracle worker!" Penny winced. "Look, sorry for snapping." He turned back to his work. "The problem's not as bad as it looks. You caught a cold yet this year, Miss Goodweather?"

"Twice," said Penny.

"Viral colds are a pain in the ass, aren't they?" She nodded. "The thing is, your body's immune system adapts after a few days. That's why you get so tired during a cold."

"Wait. Two of our members have been attacked, and you're suggesting bedrest?"

Ian laughed. "I know! Such a simple solution for a complex problem! It's funny how often that happens. Here I was, looking to develop some meta-white blood cells downstairs or reconfigure the DNA structure of the metavirus with another virus...but the patients' bodies are taking care of the problem on their own." Ian leaned back in his chair. "Which means, less work for me."

Penny looked at her watch. "Paragon just sent me an e-mail. I need to get back. Thank you, doctor. I'll inform Doc Paragon."

"How did you know he sent you an e-mail?"

Penny's eyes flashed for a moment. "I just read it."

Icarus Sidewinder's eyes fluttered slightly as he slowly, groggily taking in his surroundings. The last thing he remembered seeing was a mass of cicadas swarming his body on all sides. The crawling of those bugs on his skin made his... well, they made his skin crawl.

He was in a hospital. He could tell by the smell. Sterile, cold... he'd seen his share of hospitals while working in Project: Icarus. He was used to them by now.

Groggily, he began to wiggle his fingers and toes... making sure everything was intact. Well, he was in one piece, that much he could tell. He slowly lifted his arm and pressed the nurse's call button. He had to get an update on whatever was happening in the field and what he had mis--

His eyes widened momentarily as an attractive young nurse entered the room... absolutely naked.

Or, at least it looked that way to Icarus.

"What's going on here?" the pilot asked, grinning like a cheshire cat.

"Oh, you're awake, Mr. Sidewinder," the nurse smiled, walking up to her patient's IV to check his vitals. "Everything looks alright so far. Can I get you anything?"

"What's your name?" Icarus said, never taking his eyes off of the vixen before him.

"Florence," she said with a wink.

"What'd I miss, Florence?" Icarus asked, licking his lips as he ogled his nurse.

"Not much," the nurse smiled. "To the best of my knowledge - that is, what's been passed down to me from Dr. MacGregor - your team is still in the field."

"Well, hell," Icarus said, diverting his attention for the first time since Florence walked in the room, "I need to get out there..."

"No can do, Mr. Sidewinder," Florence said, putting her hand on the pilot's shoulder. Instantly, he sank back onto the bed. "Dr. MacGregor has given me explicit orders that you are not to go anywhere. Bedrest until the virus has run its course."

"Virus?" Icarus said. "What virus?"

"The metavirus carried by the Brood," Florence answered simply. "Lady Lykopis was infected by a cicada bite earlier before rejoining the team."

"If she went back, why can't I?"

"She was 'gifted' with some sort of healing factor as a result of the virus," she replied.

"So it gives you powers?" Icarus asked.

"Only for a limited time," Florence answered.

"Better enjoy this while I can..." Icarus mumbled to himself.

"What was that, Mr. Sidewinder?" Florence asked.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Icarus said, smiling. "And call me Icarus."

"Okay... Icarus," Florence smiled wider.

"So, do... do they know what I've got yet?" Icarus asked. "I mean, as a result of this virus?"

"Dr. MacGregor has his theories, but until he knows something for certain, he's keeping most of the nursing staff in the dark... like he does."

Excellent... Icarus smiled.

As Florence turned to leave, Icarus saw her gorgeous ass... and an amazing body leaving his prescence.

"Uh, Florence..." he called as the nurse was about to make her exit. She turned at the curtain, looking back with enquiring eyes. "Listen, I... I don't really want to be alone right now. Would you mind just... sitting down and, I dunno... telling me a little about yourself?"

Florence smiled. "Sure, Icarus. What do you want to know?" she asked as she slipped into a chair by Icarus' bedside.

"Start from the beginning," the pilot leered, a smile spreading across his face. "I've got time..."

"Come on! That's it!" Drake yelled above the roar of the medical chopper. "We're bugging out!"

He waved his arms hurriedly at the German rescue units as they finished loading the heavily sedated bodies of the Columbians into the government-issue airborne ambulance.

"Go! Go!" he yelled again, the chopper lifting off into the night.

He spun around to Adem, the chopper's spotlights fading quickly.

"Time?"

"One-minute, thirty..." the alien responded, looking at his wrist-screen.

"Gaunt?" Drake asked, turning towards the tall figure standing near the edge of the street.

Edmund looked back and forth, as the darkness came back to the area. He nodded once, opening his arms wide....

"...because of the number of you, the transport will be longer than usual, and somewhat uncomfortable...." he commented, the thick shadows behind him beginning to swirl and twist.

"Better than being fried..." Ozzy replied, shouldering Lykopis' still-weakened state.

"You would know." Adem nodded, his eyes gaining a wry twinkle.

"Gentlemen...." Gaunt mumbled, reminding them of the strain he was currently under.

Drake nodded towards Adem, the alien taking a few steps and finally hopping into the darkness.

"...I can walk...by myself..." Lykopis stated, pulling away from Ozzy's brace.

"You sure? You still look kind of we--...." Baxter frowned, his eyes suddenly widening a bit as he allowed his voice to trail off quickly.

Lykopis froze, slowly turning to meet his wide-eyed, foot-in-mouth expression with a cool stare.

"You...were....not....about...to...say....weak....were you?" the words came slow and precise, rolling from her tongue with a sizzle.

"Wonderful." Ozzy blurted out. "That's what I was going to say. You still look wonderful. And....and...it's a shame to, uh, not have you in my arms...anymore..."

Lykopis stared at Ozzy, her expression squeezing his bladder without mercy.

"Because of all the wonderfulness." he snapped cautiously. "You. Wonderful. Right."

Lykopis stared a moment longer, the corner of her mouth finally curving ever-so-slightly.

"...I like you..." she nodded approvingly. Then, taking a few steps, the darkness consumed her.

Drake smiled, staring at Ozzy.

"Way to think on your feet." he added with a dry wit.

Ozzy shrugged.

"I'm a boxer. It's what I do."

The two men shook hands....

"It's good to see you, Ozzy." Drake smiled.

"You, too." Ozzy nodded with a smile. "So, field-leader, hunh?"

Drake shrugged.

"I'm an ex-vigilante." he replied. "It's what I do."

Both men chuckled at the irony, Gaunt finally rolling his eyes with a "...bloody fuck..." sigh.

"Gentlemen....I simply hate to break up your 'moment', but, let me throw some phrases at you and see if any of them ring the bell of familiarity....'time-table'....'certain death'....'dimensional strain from continuing to hold the shadow-realms open'...."

"Right, right...sorry Edmund..." Drake nodded, immediately taking a hard jump into the shadows.

Ozzy approached the swirling mist of blackness, pausing to look at Gaunt.

"Your name is Edmund....?" he asked with a teasing chuckle.

Gaunt snorted with a final impatience, throwing his arms closed.

And, he was gone.

Ozzy's expression dropped, as he looked around realizing that he was the only one left.

"Wait!" he yelled, looking back and forth along the neighborhood. "Come back! You forgot me!"

He started walking around, trying to find Gaunt.

"Goddamn it, it was just a joke!" he yelled into the night, before promptly tripping against the sidewalk, and falling backwards into the deep shadows...

***************************

Adem stood on a hillside, nearly eighty-miles-away. It was a tall hill, overlooking the countryside for miles and miles around. In the distance, the dim lights of Munich twinkled on the horizon, setting off an ambient glow against the drifting clouds overhead.

Not that Adem noticed any of this. In fact, the only thing that Adem noticed was the peculiar sensation of a light mist wafting from his recently-arrived body.

"....I believe...." he began, reaching up to touch his throat tenderly. "....that my testicles are actually now located in my throat...."

He paused, cocking an eyebrow.

"...no...no, wait....it's not that...." he added. Then, with a single motion, he turned, vomiting into the grass.

Lykopis stood near him, the same after-effect-mist caressing her form. However, her teeth remained gritted as her brain attempted to process the dimensional shock, without resorting to tossing her own lunch, or all-out-screaming into the night.

There was a 'thump' of footsteps, and Drake and Edmund appeared behind them.

Gaunt was completely at ease, while Drake's form shivered, his eyes wide.

"...oh....god...it was like high school prom all over again..."

Edmund glanced at him.

"....cold....frightening....and utterly alone...."

"...have you located your testicles yet?" Adem asked briefly, before vomiting a bit more.

"I did warn you." Edmund commented to the group.

Drake, still panting from the jump, suddenly stopped, looking up and around.

"Wait. Where's Ozzy?"

Edmund winced.

"He'll be here...."

The faint sound of screaming came slowly into range, getting louder, and louder....until Ozzy's form suddenly plummeted from the sky, slamming into the earth behind Gaunt.

Edmund did not even blink as the light shower of dirt sprinkled down over the group, the smoke from the impact clearing away quickly.

Drake peered down at Ozzy's imbedded form, spread-eagled and face-down in the ground. He stared for a moment, looking back up at Gaunt. Then down again. Then, back at Gaunt. Then, down again....

"...he made fun of my name..." Gaunt commented in a quiet tone, his face dead serious.

"Ah." Drake nodded.

A sudden tremor shook the hillside, as the glow from Munich seemed to fade briefly.

Ozzy's face suddenly jerked straight out of the dirt, eyes wide.

"What the FUCK was that?!" he exclaimed, spitting the caked dirt from his lips.

Everyone peered out over the horizon, watching as a sharp blue glow took singular dominance over the horizon.

"Paragon's device." Adem commented, wiping away excess drool.

"Yeah....that's the ballgame..."

"...ball-game...?" Lykopis frowned.

"Uh. American term, sorry." Drake explained. "Means the fat lady is singing."

"The...fat...lady?"

"Done. Finito. Kaput." he continued, enjoying her confusion.

"I....don't under---"

"We won." Gaunt finally added.

"So...that's it?" Ozzy asked, a light film of dirt and sweat covering his shirtless torso.

"That's it." Drake nodded.

"Well....I mean...." Ozzy stammered. "...how do we know that we've won?"

We did it! Paragon's voice suddenly interjected over Jym's audio frequency. Adem glanced down at his wrist, bringing it up so everyone could hear. The swarm has been completely neutralized.

Drake turned to Ozzy with a smile. Baxter just sighed with a nod.

"It feels....it feels so....." Lykopis began, trying to find the proper words. "....anti-climactic..."

"Not everything is a down-to-the-wire, last-ditch-effort to save the planet, you know." Marshall replied. "And, given the efficiency you guys have shown me here today....it probably won't be the last time we take the cake with time to spare..."

"....take the cake....?" Lykopis mumbled with an annoyed confusion.

Everyone took a moment to take in the view of the silent night, staring out into the glowing horizon.

"Ready to go home?" he asked everyone.

"Sure, but I'm taking a fucking bus...." Baxter replied, glancing sideways at a smirking Gaunt.

Paragon leaned back in his desk, his coat and overshirt removed, his skin slightly red from spending the day working on the large devices. He put his hands together in front of his face and looked Drake in the eyes.

"And they took Mueller?"

"Yes," Marshall answered silently.

"But not the Colombians?"

"No."

"And you're sure it was the Ameristar armor?"

"Gilgamesh prototype. I remember Jackie using it specifically, right before she left the team."

"Hmmm." Paragon's mind went back to the "agents" Mcgregor had told him of. The agents who'd visited the MRC looking for Baxter. The agents who seemingly did not exist. "This is not good."

Drake was preoccupied with his own thoughts. Specifically, the SWAT team who'd matched him move for move and taken down the group so easily. After a time he finally answered. "No. . .it isn't."

Penny interrupted Paragon's and Drake's conversation. "Paragon," she said over the intercom. "It's after normal business hours, and I have no idea what to do with Lykopis."

"What to do?" repeated Paragon. "What's Lykopis still doing here?" Both of them stepped outside his office and into the main lobby where Penny's desk was at one end. Paragon's secretary was use to odd hours, and it was clear she had been up since four o'clock.

On the other was a group of chairs and a sofa. A coffee table in the middle of the furniture had magazines like Forbes and The Wall Street Journal.

Lykopis was passed out on the sofa, curled up in a fetal position. Her mouth was open slightly, and the Amazon was snoring softly. Penny looked at Paragon. "Should I wake her? I'm locking up."

Paragon laughed. "Just leave her be." He yawned. "Long day for everyone."

"...tell me about it..." Ozzy said, walking past them briskly with a couple of bags of luggage.

Drake and Paragon watched him pass, Marshall turning to look at the founder.

"He's staying here?" he asked.

"Yes, I agreed he could stay in the complex until we found him a suitable apartment somewhere...." Paragon nodded.

"I wonder where he got the luggage..." Drake smiled.

"Oh, a young lady had it shipped from La Perdita when he was taken to the MRC.....Brianna, I believe her name was...."

"Heh...no, I mean...I wonder where he got his luggage..." Drake repeated. "...the suitcases had the initials 'P.S.' on them..."

"Ah..." Paragon nodded with a slight chuckle. "...well, I guess I should expect a call from one Mr. Smith, then...."

Drake chuckled a bit.

"So, listen, about that thing with Mueller...." Drake began.

"...where's my room?", came Ozzy's voice from somewhere far away from the lobby.

"Oh--LIVING QUARTERS ARE ON THE TENTH FLOOR!" Penny yelled back, pausing to listen for a response.

Nothing.

Drake shrugged.

"So, anyway, as I was saying..." he began, turning back to Paragon.

"...where's the elevator?", came the voice again, getting a bit more distant.

Penny winced a bit.

"STRAIGHT DOWN THE HALL!" she yelled back. "AT THE END!"

All three waited a moment.

Nothing.

"...okay..." Drake began, again. "...we need to---"

Hello? Hello? Testing, testing....does this thing work?, Ozzy's voice suddenly broke rather loudly over the intecom system.

Drake simply bit his lip a bit, as Paragon dropped his expression to the floor. Penny sighed very loudly, striding over to the networking-mic on her desk.

"Yes, Mr. Baxter...you have found the elevator-intercom..." she said very evenly into the mic.

Cool...which one is my room? the voice came again, the sound of elevator doors opening in the background.

"Perhaps we should continue this in my office?" Paragon offered to Drake. They both turned, Paragon sliding his palm over the wall scanner. Both men disappeared behind the closing door of the 'Employees Only' wing.

"I have prepared furnishings in the east wing, room 121..." Penny explained into the mic.

East? Can I change it? That morning sun can really suck...

Penny rolled her eyes.

"Mr. Baxter, you can choose any of the one-hundred living quarters available on the tenth floor..."

Okay, I'll check it out...thanks...

There was a click, and Penny was sure that it was safe to lean away from the mic. She stared at it for a moment, waiting for the inevitable.

Nothing.

She finally turned, beginning to gather papers on her desk, preparing to close-shop for the night. She glanced at the PC on her desk, blinking her eyes a few times with rapid precision. Each blink closed different running programs, even bringing the log-out security window up. Her hands never stopped gathering and sorting, every so often glancing back at the computer to shut down a particular program. She suddenly paused, touching her temple with a grimace, even as she looked at the computer. A small warning sign had popped up on her screen....

Warning: Windows has encountered a fatal error, and will have to shut down the program.

"...ow..." she sighed, continuing on with the shut down. "...I hate you Bill Gates..."

COOL! A hot tub!! suddenly barked over the lobby, Penny tossing a wad of papers into the air with a startling yelp.

Eyes that should have been made of fire stared down over her glasses at the microphone. She slowly began leaning in to, perhaps, bite the end of the mic off....when a sudden movement behind her caught her attention.

Lykopis walked right past her....hair still matted against a groggy countenance....and stopped in front of a wall-mounted, brass lamp post. She quickly ripped it sparking out of the wall, studying the sturdy thickness of the metal.

She turned, walking back up to Penny's desk.

"...floor...?" she asked, her eyes still barely open.

"...tenth..."

"...right..." she nodded, walking out of the lobby, and down the hall towards the elevator.

For the next fifteen minutes, Penny sat fully back in her office chair, legs kicked up on the desk, glass of Merlot in hand, and allowed the smile on her face to bob to the sound drifting over the intercom of Ozzy being beaten mercilessly with a brass lamp.

Hell, for a night like this, she thought she might even take a nice, hot bath....

Later that week...

He'd been on bedrest for a week... and what a week! Sadly, however, Icarus Sidewinder's superpower had worn off, leaving him just a man... in front of a rather unruly mob.

Fortunately, Doc Paragon is there with him.

"William, what's this all about again?" the pilot asked, leaning over to the man standing as stoically as possible beside him.

"I called a press conference, Icarus," Paragon whispered to his employee, "so that you can explain to one of the most powerful political parties in Germany why you felt the need to spray harmful chemicals all over the city of Kiel."

"William..." Icarus said, burying his head in his hands. "I'm not really feeling up to this. I've only been in recoop for about a week now. Do you honestly think that's the best set of circumstances to be staring down a bunch of gay vegan pussies?"

Paragon rolled his eyes. "They deserve an explanation, Icarus," he said, "and you and I both know that it's your responsibility to give it to them. Understood?"

Icarus shrugged, obviously not keen on the idea. "What about our anonymity agreement?" Icarus asked. "Do you know how detrimental this could be for my father if any of them recognized me?"

Paragon put a reassuring hand on the pilot's shoulder. "You can leave your flight helmet and goggles on. Just keep your statements brief. I've already given the press our accepted pseudonym, so I don't anticipate too many problems."

Icarus sighed heavily. "Alright..." he said, lifting his shoulders in an attempt to psyche himself up.

Suddenly, a much louder influx of jeers, hisses, and boos filled the air as the mayor of Kiel stepped away from the podium and motioned for Icarus to take his place in front of the mics.

"Go get 'em, Herr Blücher," Paragon said as Icarus stepped up to the mic. The shouting from the crowd was almost deafening. Icarus shot a sidelong glance to Paragon, who shot him a thumbs up and a wry grin. Icarus rolled his eyes and tapped the mic.

"Hello?" he said, almost cautiously, as the crowd fell to an eerie silence in anticipation of his speaking. "Hello? Is this thing on?"

A loud peel of feedback echoed across the throng before him, causing even Icarus to flinch a little. As he turned from his grimace, however, he countenance changed completely. All feigned signs of nervousness were gone as the pilot grinned from ear to ear, holding his hands victoriously above his head.

"FUCK YOU ALL!"

That having been said, Icarus activated his jetpack, ripping through the air with a flash of heat and light. The crowd grew irate, throwing anything they could get their hands on at the soaring pilot, to no avail.

Paragon hung his head, slightly perterbed, but still able to see the humor. "Game, set, and match, Mr. Sidewinder..." he said wryly as he walked briskly toward his waiting limosine.