Holden Carver couldn’t help but wish he could feel the cold metal of the handcuffs that bound his arms to his back.  He couldn’t even feel the choking collar that was bound to his neck with an attached metal pole that forced him down the concrete floor of the dank lower level of the bunker.  He only knew the collar was there because it was tough to force oxygen in and out of his lungs.

The dank hallway was lined with rusted holding cells, marred with the black sludge of dirt and grime.  The thin, overhead florescent lights buzzed loudly but did not offer much illumination.  Holden felt that candles would have been a better source of light.  The transparent film of yellow only made the place look more wretched.  The floors were cracked and broken, from decades of entropy.  And every heavy step by the small bald man to his left seemed to echo into infinity.  His voice was the real annoying factor however.

“I don’t hold grudges, Carver you should know that,” Pitbull said walking twice as fast as his regular stride to keep up with the former sleeper agent.  “I know you busted my face in, because it was the best thing for me.  I learned my lesson then, even if it sounded like a good idea at the time.”

Holden knew Pitbull was referring to a few years back, when Pitbull had abducted his ex-fiancé, Victoria’s husband.   It was forgiven after Holden got his anger out.  Holden wouldn’t have kept Pitbull safe from the fall out if it hadn’t been.  The kid in all his blundering was a friend in those days, whatever that meant to murderers and psychopaths.

Holden didn’t say a word or even look at his former ally.  It did however make Holden see the humor in the situation.  Back when he was working in the Syndicate, Pitbull was assigned to work with Genocide and himself.  And he always came off as a hanger-on.  He was loyal though, and that’s why he kidnapped Victoria’s husband.  Of course he wasn’t surprised the moment that he was left in a coma that Pitbull would lick the heels of the strongest person whom he could find.  That of course was The Syndicate.

“Were the only ones left from the old days,” Pitbull said in a way that showed an inkling of compassion. 

“Well, I am not sure what happened to Blackwolf, but no one’s heard of him in over two years. “

Holden turned quickly to his shoulder.  His blood shot eyes narrowed at his old friend.  “It’s a good thing at least one of you realized what I tried to give you.”

“You’re reading this all wrong, Carver,” Pitbull said bringing his hands up to his face.  “I remember what you told me.”

“Stop,” one of the guards said in English.  Holden’s feet stopped instantly as one of the guards walked in front of him and slid the cell door open.  The old door made a heavy rattling sound as the door was pushed clear.  Holden looked at the open doorway into the empty cell.  No furniture, no toilet; just a dark and empty booth.

“That night Carver—the night you told Blackwolf and I about the meet up in the junkyard.   I remembered, and it’s why I am here today.  It is something I would never forget.”  Pitbull smiled a toothy grin as he watched the guards carefully pull the leather collar from Carver’s neck.

“Shut up,” Holden said as he stared daggers at the bald kid.

Pitbull’s smile faded into a grimace.  He slammed his hands against his skull.  “Fuck, why don’t I learn not to say everything in my fucking head!  I talk to god damn much!”

“Me too,” Holden said in the smallest whisper, as the prison door slammed closed.

---

Lynch stood greeting a handful of I/O field officers.  His hands were pulled behind his back, one hand balled into a fist, the other tightly gripped around the fist.  The room was modest, a pine green wallpaper steeping to the high ceiling running to the ruddy oak floors beneath.  Above the open floor between the crowds of officers and the head of command a long neon light buzzed, washing the room with an orange glow.  It was a makeshift meeting room they had rented out from the hotel, but looked more like an old public school classroom.  It wasn’t much but it served it purpose.  Lynch was reminded how much easier things had been when Internal Operations had a budget.

“Attention Ladies and gentlemen,” Lynch spoke.  His voice was deep and as loud as he could force it from his dry lips.   The volume bounced from each of the dry walls as the men and women straightened their postures in a cacophony of shuffling.

Lynch turned an eye to gaze over each of the hand selected members who stood in the audience, before turning on his shoulder to gaze at McCready whose short stature and small body looked inhumanely rigid.  With her hair properly pulled back in a bun and proper uniform dress she looked less like she was trying to attract the attention of sailors on shore leave.  He’d have to comment on her professional dress a little later.

“As you know we lost a number of great men and women this morning on a raid to one of TAO’s warehouses.  Intel has us believe that they were ambushed by a group of soviet extremists led by two prodigals.  It was obviously a trap to see how far we’d reach to stop them.  And we reached too far.  This will not happen again.  But we will not lose sight of why we are here.

“That is to say we have not learned anything from the operation.  We learned that TAO is working with a large network of soviet extremists run by two the world’s most notorious terrorists.  Bastiv Hezney and Mikiel Norde, the UN Dossiers are in the files each of you has received.  The involvement with these two men, and their organizations gives TAO a lot of breathing space, and protection not just within the country of Estonia but a good deal of the Eastern Block.  If we don’t stop this here, it could go much further.  The weapon in question has the potential to kill every living thing within the city limits, without effecting a single building structure.  The causalities are only the start of what will happen if he succeeds.  The entire political and economic landscape of Europe has the potential to be undermined.”

Lynch closed his lips tightly as he watched the expressions of the soldiers who looked up at them.  Each stern face went placid, fear and uncertain expressions marked everyone.  Lynch himself wasn’t one to mince words.  And it was rare for him to explain things as dire.  But unfortunately it had gotten to this level.  Despite being Carver’s mentor and close friend, he cursed himself for not just letting the man die.  Hell, Carver would have preferred it to what was happening now.  He would die a traitor twice over if he couldn’t stop TAO.

Turning to the wall behind him, a large map of the city, Saaremaa, sat pinned to the bright green wall.  Black pushpins were carefully pressed in eight locations within the confines of the island city. For those who knew the geography of the city, would know that each coordinate was in fact and old building that dated back to the cold war.  Each building had been grandfathered to state ownership, decades ago, and everyone in various stages of disrepair.   The country of Estonia had not the capital or resources to take care of the old buildings let alone check them for usage.  And they were all pivotal places for military forces and storage central to the defensive lines of the island coasts.  However more importantly all these places like the warehouse they hit early in the morning were all once connected via an interlocking chamber of underground tunnels, that were now sealed off to the main bunker near the southern coast.   It was an important link Lynch couldn’t help but see.

“On this map are eight installations where our intel has given us a good chance that will give us information as to where TAO and the soviet extremists are hiding, more importantly where the weapon is being stored.”  His eyes scanned over the group.  “Each of you has been left in charge of a single five team squad.   Each of you will be assigned to one installation based on your specializations.  Failure is not an option.  We will have results.”

Lynch then turned to McCready who watched him with a gaze of ice through her thin rimmed glasses.  “Lieutenant- Sergeant McCready will brief you on the particulars of each individual location,” he said as he turned his back and headed towards the door.  His oxford loafers cracked against the wooden floor as he turned towards the battered white door.

“Sir,” McCready said.  Her usual bubbly lips were replaced with a thin line.  Her expression nothing like he remembered as the woman he spoke to that morning.

“Debrief, McCready.  You know everything you need to at this time.”

“There’s more going on than you’re telling me.”

“That’s why it’s called ‘need to know’.  You do not press further under my command.”

The female officer turned from Lynch’s gaze and her eyes looked to the crowd of officers who watched silently at the transaction between the two commanding officers. “Alpha Team 3, Beta Team 6 and Centari Team 9 you will be heading to the shore line military base…”  McCready began as the door clacked closed.

---

TAO’s Lab
The Bunker

The Tactically Augmented Organism had transformed a disheveled 1950’s soviet laboratory into a sophisticated computerized den of blinking lights and monitors in less than twelve hours. The dark room glowed with the illumination of gigantic monitors that clung in clusters on each wall. The tables that once lined the room in a gridlock pattern were now cleared, clustered together against the two far walls, littered with tools, a multitude of components.  Many of which looked too sophisticated for consumer use, and not many looked like human designs at all.

TAO stood bent over two keyboards in the back of the room.  His head tilted up at a cluster of monitors that hung above the desk he stood at.  Green streams of data lining continued to be fed across the black screens.  He scored keystrokes in rapid succession, as his slender eyes traced the data he was creating.  His dark brown bangs were swept over to one side falling limply over his right eye, messy and uncombed stuck up on points towards the back of his crown.  His white dress shirt was unbuttoned to his breastbone with a loose tie hanging limply inches below the open collar.

The door squealed open suddenly, pulling TAO’s concentration from his work.  He lifted his head and twisted his office chair towards the door.  As the door came open the light from the hallway sent splinters of yellow across the floor in a long rectangle, TAO’s own face being illuminated by the new light. 

Though the open doorway, Laticia walked, her wide hips sweeping back and forth as her stiletto heels tapped across the floor.  Her modest chest and torso was clothed with a white tanktop, her breasts pushed against her torso in the tight fabric.  A black pencil skirt hung below hips and  only extended to mid thigh, her legs covered in net stockings all the way to her sharp six-inch heels.  Her long almond shaped eyes looked to her boss as she walked towards him.  Her thick black hair ruffled across her narrow shoulders as she walked.  “Sorry it took so long, Tao,” Laticia apologized.  “The mutt was hitting on the lunch lady.”

TAO’s eyes looked past the stunning woman to see the much shorter Pitt Bull who walked a few steps behind her.  The former friend of Carver walked in a hunch.  The small pikes of closely cropped blond hair looked invisible in the florescent light, as he walked with his head bent downwards, his round eyes on his converse shoes.   He wore a red t-shirt snuggly across his small almost Dwarven chest and arms.  A pair of beat up denim jeans covered his legs to a pair of combat boots that were tucked into the jeans.

“It was not like that at all.  I was just trying to get seconds,” Pitt Bull said never looking up from his feet.

“Not good, Gabriel,” TAO said his eyes staring at the bowed head of Pitt Bull.  “We must watch ourselves and not disrupt the fragile balance we have.”  He then smiled, “But it is well worth the toeing on broken glass.  Just don’t cause us any problems or I will kill you.” 

“Laticia, leave us,” TAO spoke his voice booming across each wall of the lab.  “Go see to it, that our prisoner is fed.”

“As you wish sir,” Laticia said as she spun on heels and walked back through the door, her small hand grabbing the door handle and slamming it closed behind her.   TAO turned his gaze from the door as it thudded against the doorframe, his thin-eyed gaze falling on Pitt Bull. 

Pitt Bull stood in the center of the makeshift lab.  His small hands were placed in front of his body, his fingers intertwined.  His head was bowed, though his gaze was still at his feet he could feel the eyes of his boss baring down at him.  He didn’t want to even slip his gaze upwards, for fear of TAO’s gaze.

“So tell me, how did your meeting with Holden go Gabriel?” Tao asked his voice sickeningly sweet in its timbre.

Though Pitt Bull was well aware of TAO’s ability to control others through his words, and knowing what was coming there was a fear in his stomach as the words came.  The small man turned his head towards his boss.  “I think it went good,” he said with a dry gulp in his throat.  “He trusts me I think.”

“Holden Carver doesn’t trust anyone, Gabriel.  Let alone someone who he thought was his friend, and turned out to be working for the man that wants to destroy him,” TAO said finally raising from his seat.  He eliminated the space between himself and the dog-powered man who looked ready to lay his head on the man’s feet. 

“He believes that I remember what he told me.  The information he gave me, if things got out of hand during the last weeks he was with the Syndicate.  I made him know he saved my life so I’m returning the favor.  He is slow to act.  But I get the feeling that he believes I’m talking about our escape plan.”

“Ah yes, Carver is acting coy.”  TAO smiled as he listened.  “Our boy wants to believe, after all he still believes you owe him… and you have a heart.”  The criminal mastermind chuckled.  “This indeed sounds promising.  It’s going to be delicious when he finds out it was all just a game.  Keep on trying to get our friend’s trust.  Make him believe.  It’s going to be fun to see that the moment he finally trusts again, that he is playing right into the hands of his enemies.”

“Yes, Sir,” Pitt Bull said.  “Can I leave now?”

“Just don’t go too far from your leash, Gabriel,” Tao said with a slender smile.  “Carver isn’t the only one that isn’t quite sure if you’re able to be trusted just yet.  Do keep that in mind.”

---

   
Holden Carver took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the dank air.  He could feel his broken ribs still fragile and loose from his earlier spill.  The pain was but a small insignificant feeling, but it was there.  He could feel it.  Normally he would be excited that he could feel even the slightest sort of pain.  But at this moment it meant that he was getting close to his limit.  And TAO was close to finalizing a way to spread the pain that was being stored in his body to every man, woman, and child in this the city.  He had to focus himself, he had to remain clear-headed.  He was going to find a way out of the mess his life had led to.  He couldn’t count on John Lynch.  No matter what the man had told him.  No matter the relationship he had with his old mentor, and that he knew Lynch was close by.  He couldn’t count on the old man to make things right.  He was on his own.

The old prison cell should have been cold, the concrete walls and floor had to absorb the cold weather of the country.   The dank air smelled old and subterranean.    Carver had no idea how far underground he actually was, but the scent of mold and moisture let him know he was further down than it felt.  He held his eyes closed as his head bowed down, his chin resting on his large chest.  The large collar on his neck stuck his skin with lots of metal spikes, like a crown of thorns for his neck.  His thickly muscled wrists were restrained with large metal cuffs bonded with thick chain links. He hadn’t the strength to move his arms from his lap.  His body rarely felt tired, and he seemed to always have energy to move if he needed it.  It was his mind that was groggy and worn.  Since he was awoken from what he assumed was death, he had been restrained and sentenced to round of torture after round of torture.  And even though he could barely feel the pain that was thrust upon him, he felt the effects and constant threat.  He felt the stress of being locked and bound.  Being taken on a journey to which he had no control over.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been pushed into a prison cell.  It wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with mind games.  These things were part of his training when he joined I/O.  It was the meat of what Lynch had taught him, when he was being conditioned to be Lynch’s successor… programmed to be the super spy that Lynch always wished he was.  Yet this was different.  It was not just being imprisoned, and being toyed with.  It was the idea that all this was very personal.  That he was reliving everything he went through to be free of the burden of the artifact.  The price he had paid to end it all.  The pain that dwelled inside him, was in the thought of all those who had died to give him the chance of freedom.  The spirits of Genocide Jones, Triple X-ray, Miss Misery, Victoria, hell even Peter Grimm entered his mind every once in a while.

“Hello Holden.”  A female voiced tinged with a strong Mexican accent called from the darkness as the clank of the cell door opening vibrated across his ears.  Carver didn’t look up from his position as he heard the noises.  His ears told him all the information he needed, as the sharp heels clacked the few feet between the bench he sat on and the door to the cell.  He heard the shift of her tight clothing as she came to sit down on the cot to his left.  The strong smell of jasmine burned his nose.

“Not feeling talkative are we?”  Laticia giggled her long fingers brushing back a wisp of her charcoal colored hair.  “Bound and helpless, I have to say it’s exactly how I like my men.  Maybe if you keep that good behavior, I can show you just how much I like it.”

Carver’s head snapped up in a sudden action.  His eyes opened wide.  His nose inches from hers.  His restraints clanked in the sudden pull as he attempted to stretch towards her.  “Why not come a little closer?  We can talk about it in depth.”

Laticia pulled herself back, clearing a good foot from where he sat, her eyes staring back into his gaze.  “Oh, I’m sure you wish that very much.  But you’ll have to wait for all that.”

“If anything, I have lots of patience,” Carver said his voice grim and deep.

Laticia pulled a spoon from the plate and plunged it into the creamy mashed potatoes that were steaming on the metal plate she held in her hand.  She plunged the food towards his mouth.  Carver opened his mouth gradually and carefully took the bite from the offered spoon.  He drew his head back slowly tasting the food before swallowing. 

“Tastes like shit.  You might like it,” Carver said looking at the woman who had pushed the spoon into the potatoes and pushed it towards him once more.  Regrettably he took another bite of the offered food quietly swallowing.  The feeding continued a few more bites before Laticia stopped. 

“You came across eating offered food rather easily,” she said to him.  “Who knows what we spiked it with?”

Carver let a smile crawl across his lips.  “You have me right where you want me.  You would have nothing to gain by drugging my food.  And I can at least trust Tao not to be a complete idiot.”

“You shouldn’t trust anyone.  Isn’t that the first Spy rule?” she asked with a slight smile on her face.

“Our rules are a little more complicated than that.  Careful where your allegiances lie, sounds more like a spy’s rule,” Carver said, “and I do believe you got that one locked down yourself.”

Laticia went silent, and instead leaned her head close to Carver inches from his face again.  Her dark eyes opened wide, in a supernatural way.  Her slender eyes transformed into large orbs jetting from her face.  Her gaze stared starred into Carver’s own eyes.

Due to the artifact, psychic powers didn’t work on Holden Carver.  Which was why when his eyes met hers, and he felt a sudden hiccup of his mind, his blood turned to ice.  Grizzly images splintered across his mindscape.  The sight of Genocide Jones’ battered with bullets drowning in his own blood.  Triple X-ray being pushed from a helicopter, Victoria’s skull, with a Luger round sticking from her forehead.

Finally the visions subsided and Carver saw that wide smirk on the Latin woman’s face.  He felt his heart lurch as he came to his senses.  Who was this woman?  he asked himself.  And more importantly how were her powers able to affect him?

---

The Regenski Silos
Under the Docks

For the last three hours Agent Thomas Tsu had led his team through the sewage passages under the city.  A series of flashlights beamed through the hazy darkness, giving light to the black and gray murk of the decade old canal system.  The smell of the sewage burned at the nostrils and bothered even the long time I/O agent who did his best to ignore the stench.   He tried his best to push on.  Give the men under his charge a good role model.  As most of the agents with him were green, only a handful of missions between them, he tried not to look at them as cannon fodder.  But if a fight broke out, he was not kidding himself on how many of them would find themselves in that role.

Agent Tsu, like most everyone who worked at I/O in any prominence was a career soldier.  He served in the United States Marine Corps for fifteen years before he was picked up by Miles Craven to join the big leagues.   He was a latent SPB, whose abilities manifested when he was a P.O.W during the Afghanistan conflict.  The torture he was exposed to caused his natural force of will to push him to his very limits.  It exposed his ability to detect the weakness in any mass.  Many wondered if this ability was a byproduct of studying Muay Thai, at his father’s dojo as a child, and he harbored other psychic abilities that just hadn’t been exposed yet. What was known was that his fists were extremely durable and he was in fact the best-unarmed fighter in I/O.

Standing in front of the door, Tsu lined his thin black moustache with his index finger.  His face was round and plump, which fit perfectly with his small and stalky frame.  Despite being known as the martial arts powerhouse he was he didn’t look it.  Where most SPB’s known for strength were mountains of muscle, Tsu was an older man, who stood at five feet and five inches.  His arms though considerably ripped under his black uniform, the large stomach that rolled over his tight belt made him look more like Super Mario than someone who would be saving the world in spandex.  “Spradley open the door,” Tsu commanded.

A single wiry I/O agent stepped from the group of similarly dressed black uniformed agents.  His head turned on his twig of a neck, bright blue eyes looking into the caramel eyes of his commander.  He brought up a gloved hand and brought it to the edge of his brow.  After his short salute he looked at the metal knob extending from the cast of ancient concrete.  Six flashlights all highlighted the door as he bent down to the knob.

There was a quiet that fell over the entire squad as the small soldier began to pick the large bronze lock.   Tsu watched the young kid with a large smile on his face.  Spradley was one of the new recruits he had handpicked specifically for this mission.  The kid was not field ops material, this much the old marine knew.  The kid was an Alpha level intelligence, and would have been a good resource in Sci Tech, or The Special Project Division.  But the boy had his mind firmly planted on being a super spy.  He wanted to be a hero.  So Tsu figured he’d see what the kid was made of.  But he was sure before long the boy would wise up.  He hoped so, as it would be a shame for I/O to lose such a gifted mind.

The lock clicked in a brassy thunk, as Spradley pushed the door open with a squeak.  He simply turned his back on the hazy light emitting from the doorway and walked back into formation.  Agent Tsu slipped his hand to his hip gripping the cold handle of the Desert Eagle from its holster.  Drawing his handgun level with his shoulder he walked into the open doorway.  He slipped against the door jam.  His brown eyes looked both left then right before he slipped his free hand towards the doorway, and bent his wrist in a waving pattern.

The room didn’t look like much.  It was a round room encased in concrete.  The Regenski Silos were a series of large underground silos, which were designed to store provisions for the bunkers during the cold war.  Shelves of wooden boxes filled the entire room.  Boxes labeled “grain” and “dehydrated meat” lined each of the metal shelves, with inches of dust carpeting most of the boxes and walls.   What was strange to Tsu was that the floors didn’t have the same dust buildup.  The slick concrete floors looked recently swept.  The glaze over the concrete floor shined the flashlight’s rays back towards him.

“Stop,” Tsu spoke.  Almost at the same moment he spoke those words a slender dart passed over his vision.  The rotund agent brought his freehand in a quick blur.  Snatching the quill between his index and middle fingers, he snapped the quill in half and let it fall to the floor.

“We’ve got company,” Tsu spoke moments before the room lighted up with the flash of gunfire.

“Is this what you’re looking for Tsu?” the deep snarl of Bear shouted as he leapt from behind a series of shelves, capsizing them as he advanced.  Tsu saw out of the corner of his eye the smashing of three of his men.  Red blood flooded across the glazed concrete.

“No!” Tsu shouted as he brought his handgun forward and pointed and shot three times, with deadly accuracy.  The Thai-American heard three bodies fall as he moved into a run towards the source of the gunfire.

He heard the sound of shifting guns long before his eyes registered the change of firing.  He had ducked low as the yellow lightening zipped over his back.  He unloaded the twelve bullets still in his clip.  Though he did not take aim, he managed to put two of three soldiers on their backs limiting the gunfire to one.

Tsu tossed the gun aside in a hefty lank and he lunged at the remaining gunman.  He sprang off his feet leveling his knee forward.  The power of the Standing Elephant stance showcased the strength of the martial art as he impacted the gunman’s chest.  The gun muzzle slid over his shoulder still firing as the knee slammed into the gunner. The crunch of ribs breaking crackled in the agent’s ears as the man was taken from his feet and crashed into a squad four feet away.

Tsu spun around as he landed.  His body on its haunches with his left leg stretched wide.  Six quills suddenly fired from the darkness.  Each bony dagger blurred with perfect accuracy ready to puncture vital organs.  Tsu brought his hands up moving in a quick chopping pattern.  His almost super human reflexes caught each of the six quills between his sausage-sized fingers.  Then with a flick of his wrist he whisked them back in the direction they came.

“Fuck!” a nasal voiced called out from the darkness.  Tsu’s eyes seemed to give off a strange blue haze as his attention drew towards the sound.   He rose to his feet clenching his fists as he moved towards the sound.

More quills fired towards him as he sprinted towards the bespectacled SPB.  Tsu moved down low first, letting the first set miss his body by a fraction of an inch.  The second volley aimed toward his left.  The I/O agent spun on his right heel and pushed off the ground, spinning his body in an odd shaped spiral to avoid the second volley.  As his boots fell on the ground once more a third volley was sent towards him.  He slipped to his knees and slid the remainder of the distance between him and the hunch backed Emit.  His left leg darted out front of his sliding body.  The knee carried a slight bent as his boot heel slammed with a powerful force into the SPB’s right kneecap.  The entire weight of the old man’s body gave pounds of pressure as it impacted the kneecap.  The bone and cartilage shattered like glass.

“Holy Fuuuuuckk!” Emit shouted as the unbelievable pain welled up inside his small body.  His body sagged to the floor, unable to support the upper torso with the broken knee.  He felt the warmth of tears flooding down his face.

“Be thankful you’re alive,” Tsu said as he leapt to his feet.  His left hand formed a five-digit dagger as he laid a chop down over the blond haired crown.  Emit looked up blankly at the I/O agent for a full second before his eyes went behind his head and his body capsized with a thud of bone on the hard concrete.

“You’re going to pay for that!” Bear shouted as a shelf creaked and fell forward towards Tsu.

Tsu looked up at the shadow of the shelving that began to fall towards his placement.  His eyes gave off that same blue aura as he brought his closed fist towards to falling metal shelf.  The shelf seemed to explode as the I/O agent’s fist struck its metal face.  Rods of metal flung in a full 360-degree radius.  The force caused pieces of metal to find themselves imbedded in the floor and the concrete walls.

Bear stood stationary watching the slight blue glow that seemed to come from the grayish cloud of dirt and debris.  His thick blond beard did little to mask the look of disbelief on his face.  He didn’t say a word though.  Instead he clenched his large fists and swung both of them in rapid succession.

Tsu’s arms came up in quick blurs.  His wrists impacted the side of the fists with every strike, skillfully blocking the terrifically powerful punches.  The martial artist showed little of his movements with his face, as though it was effortless.

Bear came to a stop suddenly.  His large muscle ripped body looked down at the stalky I/O agent and his eyes widened to full saucers of murderous intent.  The large seven-foot tall SPB threw his hands onto Tsu’s shoulders gripping them with enough force to threaten shattering them.  Then, without hesitation Bear slammed his skull into Tsu’s.  The impact sounded like a clap as Tsu felt his legs turn to jelly.  His body crashed onto the cold concrete floor.

Bear looked down at the I/O agent with a grin and his hand grabbed a wad of the older man’s graying mop of hair.  As he tugged at Tsu, the agent looked up at the Prodigal.  The flash of violet appeared in his eyes.  There was a second of fear in his eyes as he looked at Tsu’s gaze.

Tsu didn’t waste time.  His left arm launched from his shoulder.   Three fingers impacted the large throat with enough force to crush most men’s windpipe.  Bear’s hand let go of the agent’s hair as he stumbled back his hands moving to his wounded throat.

Tsu leapt to his feet and instantly jetted his leg from his hip.  His left arm whirled behind him to give more momentum to the kick.  The powerful kick slammed into the man’s ribs with a loud thud.  The agent’s bones shook as the impact hit.  It felt like kicking a brick wall.  Bear grabbed the leg with both his mighty hands and pulled the pudgy agent towards him.

A smile flashed over Tsu’s face as he felt his remaining foot leave the floor.  He turned in a spiral as he was pulled towards the large man.  He bent his back using all the muscles in his chest to bring his body about face.  He sandwiched both his hands into a flesh hammer as he neared the mountain of muscle.

Tsu yelled something in Thai as he pushed all of his strength into his clustered fist.  The hands slammed into Bear’s jaw with enough intensity to break a concrete wall.  His hands ached the moment he impacted the durable bones of the man’s face.

Bear let out a guttural yell as he felt the force on his lower jaw.  Teeth and blood fell from his mouth in a vile storm.  He lost his grip on Tsu’s leg as his head craned unnaturally.  His skull turned over his shoulder and the rest of his body moved in kind.  His feet left the floor for only a few seconds.  His two-ton form hit the ground, with enough force to shatter the concrete.

Tsu slammed his left foot onto Bear’s throat.  His caramel eyes stared at the large SPB’s blue gaze.  He slipped his hand to his hip and withdrew his secondary firearm.  It was a simple .45 with gunmetal brush finish.  He leveled the gun at the blood-smeared face of the Prodigal.  “You have gone too far,”  Tsu spat, the sorrow of his agents that this man had killed along with the death of Hertz.  He was ready to finish this man off.

He waited too long however.  As Tsu squeezed the trigger Bear spat one of his loose teeth.  The sharp ivory pierced Tsu’s eyelid like butter.  A spurt of blood flashed for only an instant, before he stumbled off the super human.  Bear gave a snarl as he leapt to his feet and dashed toward the darkness.  Fire arms raffled through the dark room.  Bullets ratcheted off the metal shelving and concrete wall.

“Stand Down,” Tsu spoke.  He pulled the remainder of his will power to sit up.  Torrents of red blood gushed over the hand that covered his wounded eye.

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To Be Continued...

NEXT ISSUE: It’s the Penultimate issue, with all the cards laid on the table.  Will Holden trust Pitbull and run right into TAO’s trap?  Will Lynch get Emit to talk?  Will Tsu match Lynch with stunning cybernetic eye accessories?  Can this craziness end in a happy ever after?  You’ve made it this far, I think you can join me for two more issues.

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SLEEP TALK:

I can’t believe we only got two more issues left.   I’ve been having so much fun writing this sort of story.  No silly costumes, no ridiculous plans of world domination.  Just two guys in a grudge match with a European country’s political future in the balance.  I had no idea spy fiction would be this much fun.  But it is Sleeper I’m writing, and the characters write themselves.

The new characters I’ve developed for the series have been a blast too.  The whole sleeper world just seems to take on something all its own, and the characters just come to life.  There’s something organic about the whole thing.  And I really didn’t think I’d be able to successfully keep this sort of narrative up.  I thought it would bore me with a more character driven story and less action filler.  But it’s been ridiculously easy.

I’ve also been getting a lot of people asking what is going to be the future of Carver after Epilogue.  Well I don’t want to say too much as it could spoil the ending.  But don’t count on Carver starring in his own solo series, any time soon.   But I won’t be leaving Wildstorm anytime soon.  I’m currently in the planning stages to take on an ongoing title here.  You’ll hear more about it soon.

-Jae
06/2010

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