The roar of the exploding Mastiff, almost a block away, rattled the tattered web of iron sticking precariously from the fragmented Palace wall. The firefight between the Mandelovian military, and the Strikeforce ground forces had begun to shift further away from the devastated perimeter of the estate.
"...they've cut their lines..." Velo breathed, looking back over the horizon of the visible sky.
The ominious discs now hovered still, and quiet; their numbers blanketing the skies of Mandelovia.
"...this is not good....something heavy is coming..."
Velo reloaded his gun, glancing down at the almost-naked body of a dead Strikeforce grunt.
"Want to hurry that up?" he remarked, his voice lined with its usual calmness.
Ozzy lurched up from his bent position, trying to buckle the slightly smaller fatigues.
"Hey! Cut me some slack, okay?" he retorted, grimacing as he strained to get the pants buckled. "You insane bastards may do this kind of shit every day, but I DON'T! So, you'll excuse me if I don't want to continue this 'save-the-world' bullshit in my FUCKING BOXERS!"
His face strained harder, broad-veined muscles rippling to the surface of his already broad, bare chest. And, try as he might, the belt would not meet the buckle.
"Aggghh!" he yelled in irritation, pulling on the belt with all of his strength.
Velo finally huffed with impatience. With one quick motion, he whipped his boot-knife out, slashing the exposed belt in half. Baxter immediately lost his balance, tumbling over backwards.
"Insertion path open..." Priest's cool growl of a voice came over Velo's comm link, even as he holstered the knife.
"...copy that..." Velo mumbled into the mini-mic, lodged in his back, left molar. "Smith?"
"...all main halls are secure..." Phil replied over the link.
"What the hell's the matter with you?!" Baxter barked, jumping back to his feet.
Velo glanced at him with a professional calmness.
"If the pants are that tight already, then you don't actually need the belt, right?"
His voice, smooth as silk, seemed almost pleasant in its' ability to state the obvious.
Baxter opened his mouth to respond, wagging a finger at Velo. But, after a moment, he simply dropped the finger, looking away with a sullen look.
"Get a shirt...and let's go. Now." Velo ordered.
Ozzy grabbed the flack jacket from the ground, slipping it over his bare shoulders, as he and Velo headed towards the Palace entrance.
Ruffling his white hair, Ozzy could hear the massive fighting in the distance. He glanced skywards, just in time to see movement.
"Holy sh--INCOMING!" Ozzy yelled, diving to the ground.
Velo turned with one motion, his rifle locked and loaded...
He stared skywards, then, with an almost annoyed sigh, lowered his gun.
"...Ozzy....that's Banshee..." he remarked.
Oz looked up from the ground, to see the Vanguardian circle overhead.
"Well...what's THAT, then?" Ozzy remarked, pointing straight up.
Velo cocked an eyebrow, looking up with a small smile.
"An old friend, come home when we need him..." he replied. "His name is Edulcore....we call him Raptor."
Ozzy frowned, staring up at the two figures running aerial defense in the skies.
"Come on..." Velo remarked.
Ozzy sighed, standing up. He dusted himself off a bit, more than slightly embarrassed. He and Velo had taken three steps towards the Palace...
...when the ground to their far right exploded in a hail of dirt and debris.
Both men hit the ground, soil showering their form. But, something was wrong. Velo was the first to notice it, even as they peered simultaneously through the thick cloud.
Something had impacted the ground. But, it wasn't a bomb, or missle. There was no fire. No heat from the explosion that rocked the courtyard.
It was a moment before either could make out a humanoid form standing in the knee-deep crater.
The form of a man.
"...oh boy..." Baxter mumbled, the man dressed in the Strikeforce-1 jumpsuit starting towards them with a defiant stride.
Velo had his gun up, finger pulling the trigger before Oz could even blink.
The hail of bullets sparked off the man, as he reached their position instantly.
Velo released a yelp of pain, as hands of steel jerked the weapon from his grasp, crumbling it under impossibly mighty hands.
"I am Agent Frank Mullarney, callsign 'Hero', of the Strikeforce-1 Elite Militia...." the stranger began, tossing the wad of compact metal. "....as a represenative of the United Nations, I order you to stand down and surrender..."
Oz and Velo looked at each other, and then, back again. Velo opened his mouth to speak...
"I believe I speak for my team when I say--"
"Piss off!" Baxter interjected, eyeing the man with an increasing anxiety.
Velo shrugged.
"...well, okay, that works..."
Hero nodded.
"I understand..."
He immediately grabbed Velo by the front of his shirt, about to jerk him aloft, when Ozzy's skilled reflexes kicked in, snagging the man's wrist in a vise-like grip.
"Drop him." Baxter stated with a low, even tone.
"...or?" Hero stared at the man.
A small wicked grin curved Ozzy's face.
"Or, I drop you."
He and Hero stared at each other for a couple of seconds, the Strikeforce-1 agent bemused with the intensity of the grip he felt.
Velo, half-aloft on his tip-toes, looked over at Ozzy...
"Think you can you handle him?" he asked.
"Damn well going to try..." Baxter replied.
"...good...now close your eyes..." Velo nodded.
A blinding flash of strobe-white light flared as a flash-grenade dropped from Kristogar's fingertips.
With the momentary distraction, Velo immediately ripped back out of his flack-jacket vest, leaving the briefly disoriented Hero holding the useless garment. With a quick bolt, Velo ran for the Palace.
Ozzy grabbed Hero's other wrist with the same intense grip, attempting to physically struggle with the man.
But, only briefly.
With a single motion, Hero threw his arms wide, breaking Ozzy's grip. Slamming a hand over Baxter's throat, Hero instantly vaulted his massively powerful legs with a quick flex, leaping straight up with Ozzy's in tow.
The sudden lurch straight up threw Oz's equilibrium completely off, as the world around him blurred with speed.
At the apex of his mighty leap, Hero turned, slinging Ozzy with a fluid motion, straight into the rupturing pavement thirty stories below.
The shockwave blew the wreckage of two Mastiff's into shattered scraps of metal, Ozzy's body completely embrace by the fractured concrete.
A pair of powerful feet landed with a single cracking 'thud', straight into the back of Ozzy's head. The momentum of impact drove his form an inch deeper into the ground.
Hero stood on Ozzy's back for a moment, staring down at the back of his head.
"...'handle me'? ....please..." the agent smirked, turning for the Palace.
He had taken a single step, when a hand suddenly lurched from it's placement in the concrete, grasping the man's ankle.
Hero glanced down with a cocked eyebrow.
"Oh, come on..." he said, stepping back to ram the back of Oz's head a few times. After a third meta-enhanced stomp on his cranium, his hand fell away from the ankle.
"...now, just die, would you?" the agent remarked, turning towards the Palace again.
He had taken a few steps, when, he could swore he heard movement behind him. He stopped, turning around with an almost bewildered stare.
Ozzy's panting grunts suddenly came through clear, as he struggled with a red-faced strain to free himself from the crater's embrace on his impervious body.
"Unbelievable, man..." Hero stated, shaking his head. "...you just don't know when to stop, do you?"
He threw a single kick, straight into the rising man's chest, vaulting him completely out of the crater, straight across the street. Ozzy sailed straight through the wall of an abandoned cafe', plaster and stone crumbling all around him.
Hero studied the dark, gaping hole in the side of the building for a moment, listening for signs of movement. Satisfied with the silence, he turned again.
"...wait..."
Hero stopped, jerking a now completely annoyed snarl around.
A tattered, dirt-encrusted Baxter stepped out of the wall, walking towards the man with a disturbing grin...
"...that was only the first round..." his hoarse voice stated with a breathless determination.
Hero's eyes narrowed.
"...round two..." Ozzy nodded.
And with that, the man launched himself at the agent, fists clenched tight...
