Let Slip the Dogs of War
Chapter 4: Questions
By Chris Ward
February 28, 2003; Odessa, Texas
Elle and I had come in shortly after 7, and had been conducting interviews all morning. So
far, we had only encountered one agent, Kristen Hart, who raised any red flags. She had
definitely lied when answering a couple questions. We’d bring her back after the remaining
interviews, and then decide if we needed to resort to harsher methods.
As we broke for lunch, I let Elle head for the car and stepped into Noah’s office. He was
busy looking through some field reports when I entered, but looked up as the door closed.
Pushing aside the reports, he leaned back in his chair. “How’s the inquest?”
Leaning against the wall, I flashed a tired grin. “Not bad. We’ve got one that was less than
honest with us. We’re going to bring her back later and give her one last chance to explain
herself.”
“If she doesn’t?”
“Things get ugly.”
Taking off his glasses, he cleaned them for a minute before looking back up. “All right.
What do you need from me?”
“Can you get Agent Hart’s file?”
Making a quick note, he nodded. “Anything else?”
“Not right now. See you later, Noah.” Leaving his office, I headed through the labyrinthine
halls to the elevators. As I was about to enter the main hall, I realized Elle was still out
there, and not alone. My nose clearly told me that she had just given someone a warning
zap. Closing my eyes, I tried to figure out what was going on.
“Listen fucker, if you try that shit again, I’ll fry that little fucking zit you call a dick down to
ash!”
Whoever was out there was apparently not intimidated. As I began to push open the door,
I heard him backhand her nearly hard enough to break her jaw. “Damned bitch-whore! If you
ever pull that shit on me again I’ll slice your little fuck-box and your cupcakes to fucking
ribbons before I kill you. I don’t give a flying fuck who your daddy is, bitch, you’re my whore
now! I’ll take your blonde ass any time, and any place, I damn well want, and you’ll fucking
accept it.” I could hear the vicious grin in his voice as I rounded the door, barely giving it
time to let me out. Looking down the hall, I saw him holding her against the wall, with one
meaty hand wrapped around her throat. “If you’d been a nice little slut, it might even have
been pleasant for you. Now that you pulled that stunt, I’m gonna make you fucking bleed!”
He was so absorbed with Elle that he had no clue I was there; at least not until I slammed
my fist into his kidney. With an agonized howl, he dropped her and fell to his knees, both
hands clasping the small of his back. When he fell from his knees to his side, I snapped two
of his ribs with a couple of kicks. Grabbing him by his throat and balls, I threw him down the
hall. Leaving him for a minute, I checked on Elle.
The slap to her face had quite nearly broken her jaw, which was already starting to swell
and bruise. Her blouse had been torn where he had tried to grab her breast, and a trickle
of blood ran from the corner of her mouth. Once he had released her throat, which bore
angry marks from his grip, she began to breathe easier. She was conscious and alert, but
not mobile.
Turning around, I walked down the hall to where he was trying to get back to his feet.
Grabbing him by the hair, I helped him up. Squeezing his throat, I slammed the back of his
head into the wall. “Who the fuck are you, dickless?”
Gasping for air around my grip, he said, “Thompson. I came with the file you wanted.”
Pausing for breath, he tried to look intimidating. “I run this branch.”
“You don’t run shit, fuck-face; and you sure as fucking hell don’t run us! We work for your
boss. Where’s that damn file?” When he moved his hand toward his jacket, I slapped it
aside, breaking his wrist. Laughing slightly, I shook my head. “Do you just not have a
fucking brain? Don’t act like you’re reaching for a damned gun, shit-brain. Just tell me next
time.”
Sliding my hand into his jacket, I found a CD. Glancing at it, I saw it was what I was looking
for, so I slipped it into my own pocket. Dropping him to the floor, I glanced over my
shoulder to see how Elle was doing. She had pulled herself together and was staring down
the hall in undisguised fury. Laughing, I waved her down.
Looking back down, I watched him contemptuously as he tried to stand. Driving one fist
into his stomach, I grabbed his head and lifted him back to his feet. Bending slightly, I
whispered in his ear. “You have a bruised kidney, a couple broken ribs, a broken wrist, and
probably a mild concussion. You are about to have a broken jaw and, if Elle’s expression is
anything to go by, a pair of toasted nuts. Now, if you don’t want that list to look and feel like
a walk in the fucking park, keep your paws off my partner, and never let me find out you’re
manhandling women like that again. If you ever, even in your dirtiest fuck dream, lay a
finger on her again, I’ll rip your damned Slim-Jim off and shove it down your fucking throat.
If you even threaten her, I will personally rip out your throat.”
Straightening back up, I bitch-slapped him hard enough to break his jaw but not quite
hard enough to knock him unconscious. Pinning him to the wall with one hand, I stepped
aside to let Elle through. With a cry of fury, she slammed one charged fist into his crotch,
listening gleefully to his screams as she released the electric charge.
Throwing him to the ground, I looked down at his painfully curled form almost clinically.
Regardless what Bob might have thought, part of my job as Elle’s partner is to train her so
she’s able to work solo. With that in mind, I grinned and looked over at her. “There’s a spot
in the small of the back, a nerve cluster actually, that causes a few minutes of paralysis
when hit just right. The victim can still feel everything but is completely immobilized.”
Prodding along his back with my shoe, I drew back my foot and slammed it into the spot just
beside the spine. Elle laughed viciously as his eyes filled with mute agony.
Glancing down, I shook my head. “Go ahead and grab the car. I’ll call and let someone
know they need to haul this ass-wipe to the medical wing.”
After she left, I slipped back through the door and made the call. Before heading outside,
I crouched down beside him. “Just a word of advice, cock sucker; don’t even think about
retaliation. What just happened was a fucking warning. If you come after us, in any way, I’ll
have to take steps.”
With that, I headed outside. Before lunch we stopped at the penthouse so Elle could
conceal the damage, and so I could print out the information on the disc.
***********
Unknown Date; Unknown Location
Havoc has followed the strangers since locating them. The one called Charles is the
obvious leader, which is surprising given the unmistakable scent of illness he carries.
The other, Maury, calls for another halt, breathing heavily. He is obviously unused to
physical exertion. Charles looks around, and then looks at the piece of paper he’s carrying.
“Isn’t it about time for another sweep?”
“Why? There’s nothing here, Charles. I don’t know what the fuck they were smoking, but
they sent us on a damned wild goose chase.”
“Just do it, Parkman. It’s been over an hour since the last check.”
“Whatever.” Maury goes completely still, giving the impression that he is reaching out.
After a couple minutes, his eyes clear with a surprised expression. “I guess I was wrong.
We seem to have company.”
In shock, Havoc crouches against the limb he is on. Sampling the air around him, he
realizes that they’re still alone. Confused, he crawls closer.
“How close is he?”
“Close enough to hear us. I think he can see us, too. This isn’t exact, his thoughts are a
little… well, odd, I guess is the best way to say it…, but I think he’s been following us and
trying to decide if we’re a threat.”
Havoc watches as Charles looks around for a couple seconds. In surprise, he realizes
that the man is looking directly at him with an odd smile on his face. “Can you reach him?”
“If I know where he’s at? Sure. I can’t get a read on him though.”
“He’s over in this direction, not that far away actually.”
Maury turns in the direction indicated by Charles, and closes his eyes. After several
minutes he grunts and says, “It’s all right. You need to come out and meet us.”
The voice seems almost to echo inside Havoc’s head, battering aside his paranoia and
caution until the command merges into his own thoughts, seeming to originate internally
rather than externally, finally demanding obedience.
With a twisting leap, Havoc lands in front of the strangers.
***********
February 28, 2003; Odessa, Texas
After finishing the interviews, we met with Noah. Handing the Hart file over with a broad
grin, he laughed shortly. “What the hell happened up there? I haven’t seen Thompson in
that kind of shape in years.”
Shrugging, I flipped through the file and handed it to Elle. “There was a small question of
authority.”
“I take it he did something to piss you off?”
Shaking my head slightly, I flashed a small grin. “No. What happened to him was
instructional. You know me, Noah. If he’d pissed me off, he’d be begging me to kill him.
He’s one of those guys that seems to enjoy dipping his wick in the Company help.”
Indicating Elle with a nod of my head, I said, “She didn’t want to play so he got rough. That’s
when I stepped in.”
Dropping the smile, he cleared his throat. “Be careful with him, Michael. Thompson’s
definitely a lecherous ass, but he’s also in a position to make life difficult for you.”
“Thanks for the warning, but he already knows what’ll happen to him if he gets in my way.”
Leaning back in my chair, I shrugged. “Anyway, that’s not why we’re here. We ran across
another agent struggling with honesty.”
“Who is it?”
Flipping through my notes, I found the name. “Agent Greg Coleman.”
Making a note, he nodded. “All right. I should have that ready in about an hour.”
Getting quickly to her feet, Elle headed for the door. “Good. We’ll have time for some
preparations.”
Noah watched her leave and then looked at me. “Preparations?”
Shrugging, I stood to follow her. “They may decide to be difficult. We’ll have to persuade
them to stop.”
Joining her in the hall, nearly having to run to catch her, I grabbed her arm and stopped
her once we were away from Noah’s office. “What the hell was that all about?”
Rolling her eyes, she tried to break my grip. “Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Elle. We’ve been partners long enough for me to know when
something’s up. What’s the deal here?”
“It’s not that big a deal. He’s never cared for me, and I can’t stand him. I just wanted out of
there. That’s all!”
Looking into her face, I could see she wasn’t telling me everything. “We’ve both worked
with people we didn’t like, Elle. It’s never been a problem before. You’ve got some other
problem here; what is it?”
I knew that something was definitely wrong here. What I didn’t realize was how sensitive
this particular subject was. Her eyes flashed, and I was suddenly crashing against the
opposite wall with a burning pain in my chest. Her voice came out in an emotion-strangled
snarl. “You wanna know what the fuck’s wrong? Fine! Some dumb ass politician can’t keep
his dick out of some trailer trash bimbo. The whore gets knocked up, and the politician’s
mommy, one of Daddy’s friends, gets the Company to hide the whole fucking thing.
Apparently both White Trash and Wet Dick have some sort of super abilities, and their bitch
daughter’s supposed to grow into some sort of fucking Wonder Woman. So, they give
Golden Boy in there the brat to raise, with the promise he’ll turn her in if she manifests.
Daddy’s counting the days, expecting some sort of uber-powered slut, and can’t shut the
fuck up about her. Then, of course, there’s that bitch-whore they gave Daddy to raise.”
Rubbing at the fried spot on my chest, I looked up from the floor in confusion. “You mean
Sarah?”
“Yep. Wonder-bitch Noonan in all her fucking glory! Daddy loves her, hell, everybody
loves Sarah fucking Noonan. The Golden Agent; She Who Can Do No Fucking Wrong!” Her
voice was growing more passionate with nearly every syllable, hovering just below a
scream. “Even when she abandoned her position, so she could whore around with her
dumb-ass lover instead of doing the job she’d signed up for, Daddy didn’t care.” The bitter
twist to those last words made me look closely at her.
I was a little surprised to see tears standing in her eyes. “I’m his fucking daughter, not
just some foster-bitch forced on him by the Company.” The pain in her voice was heart-
breaking, even for someone with less than the average amount of sympathy. “I’ve always
done every damned thing I was asked; followed every order I was given. If I was put on a
mission, I completed it as best I could. I can’t even get a fucking ‘Thank You’ from him. I
have to beg for every kind word, each ounce of recognition. All I get from him without a
fight are more fucking orders. But all Sarah has to do is toss back her hair, or bat her
eyelashes and Daddy’s willing to give the fucking Company keys to her.”
Pushing myself up from the floor, still rubbing my singed chest, I had to concede her
point. Bob was definitely never going to be Father of the Year. I’d noticed, early in our
partnership, a tendency to take outrageous risks. At first, I thought it was simply a death
wish. After the first few missions, and watching her interaction with Bob, I realized the
truth. Everything she did was out of a desire to be recognized by her father. If she screwed
up, he was right there to let her know just how disappointed he was in her. The reverse
was not true. I sincerely doubt he’s said more than a handful of kind words to her in her life.
Part of why she and I make such a great team is that we mesh. We’re both irredeemably
damaged, but we work well together. Part of that is because I take her as she is. The only
attempts I make to improve her in any way are through training. When she fucks up, which
has become less often as we’ve worked together, I jump her ass. When she gets it right,
which is far more often than Bob will admit, I give her the credit she deserves. In return, I
get a damned good partner.
Grunting, I pushed away from the wall. “Let’s get to work.”
***********
Unknown Date; New York, New York
“Hello, Michael. How are you this morning?” He’s seem this woman, Angela, before.
Something about her scent always raises his hackles. Seated on the bed in his cell, he
keeps his head lowered and follows her with his nose and ears.
After several minutes of silence, feeling her amused stare bore into him, he lifts his head
to return her gaze; his face as blank and lifeless as his pure white eyes. Guilt at what he
views to be an abandonment of his community, coupled with an impotent fury at his virtual
imprisonment, has quite nearly destroyed his will. As the days passed and bled together,
and the testing became more invasive and painful, he has sunk into a dark depression.
“I thought you might enjoy a bit of a walk.”
“I’m not your dog, Angela.”
Folding her arms across her chest, she coolly returns his stare. With an ironic twist in her
voice, she says, “Amazing. You are capable of speech.”
Leaning his head against the wall behind him, he closes his eyes and sighs. “What do you
want?”
“I came by to see how Charles’ promising new recruit was coming along. I must admit that
I am quite pleased he isn’t here right now to see his ‘great leader’ cowering in his cage like
a whipped cur.”
The deliberate wording of her insult, dripping with venomous contempt, strikes with whip-
like force against the fading embers of his pride. What she says next stirs his will into a
boiling rage. “If those poor children trusted you to look after them, it’s a wonder they
weren’t already dead.”
With a roar, he leaps to his feet. Halfway across the room, he hears a familiarly soothing
voice in his head. “Calm, Michael. Be calm.” Slowly, under the force of that inner voice, the
rage dissipates. Blinking in surprise, he sees Angela smiling at him.
Speaking over her shoulder, she says, “Thank you, Maury. You may leave now.”
Maury? Closing his eyes, he attempts to locate the man. With a horrified start, he realizes
that he can find no trace of him. Stretching out with his senses, he finds they seemed to
have been turned off. Not only can he not locate Maury, but Angela, standing right in front
of him, seems to have become invisible to his nose and ears.
Opening his eyes in terror, he looks around wildly before focusing on Angela. “Well, your
brains aren’t completely asleep. You figured that out faster than I expected. Since your
memories seem to be causing you so much trouble, I’d like you to meet a young friend of
mine who will, at least temporarily, remedy that situation.”
As she leaves the room, a young black man enters. Staring at him, Havoc somehow
realizes that this man is the reason his senses have been dulled. “Who are you?”
Reaching a hand toward his forehead, the young man speaks in a thickly accented voice.
“A friend. Sleep now. When you awake, the demons that haunt you will be forgotten.”
***********
February 28, 2003; Odessa, Texas
Noah had ordered Agents Kristen Hart and Greg Coleman held in separate interview
rooms in one of the deepest levels of the facility. The rooms were featureless,
uncomfortably warm and completely enclosed, lacking even an observation window. They
had only two doors each, requiring codes that were changed after each use. The first of the
doors led from the hall to the room, while the second door led to a slightly larger
interrogation chamber Elle and I had spent most of the last hour preparing.
After a brief discussion, we decided to tackle Hart first. When we entered, she was seated
at the interview table and quite obviously irritated. A slim, attractive brunette wearing a
business skirt and blouse that were just a shade too tight, her brown eyes fastened on us
as soon as the door opened. “What the fuck am I doing here?”
Tossing her file on the table, I smiled. “Being given one last chance, actually.”
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “One last chance at what?”
“Honesty. We know you lied to us during the earlier interview. If you’ll tell us the truth
now, we can forget earlier.”
Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms. “What lie did I supposedly tell?”
Taking her cue, Elle put her hands on the table and leaned forward. “Don’t give us that
shit, bitch! We know you lied to us.”
“About what?” If Elle’s performance intimidated her, it wasn’t obvious.
Pulling out my notes, I pretended to look through them. “When we asked about any
private meetings you might have had with Bernhelm, you denied any such.”
“And?”
“It was a lie, Hart.” Dropping the notes to the table, I reached into my pocket and pulled
out a slim metal case. Setting it on the table, I glanced back at her. “You know it was a lie.
That means I know it was a lie. And, since we’re partners, that also means Elle knows it was
a lie. If you’ll be honest with us now, we can move on without any unpleasantness.”
Standing up, she leaned forward, attempting to take control of the meeting. “I don’t know
what you’re talking about. We worked together one time. We barely talked on the mission.
We sure as hell never had any private meetings.”
Shrugging, I sat down and opened her file. Glancing at it, I opened the case and pulled
out a small syringe. “The file says that you’re a Phoenix. From what the description says, it’s
an ability I’ve never seen before.” Pulling out a vial of the serum from inside the case, I
filled the syringe. Tapping the air out of it, I said, “Elle?”
With a vicious grin, Elle sauntered around the table. Although her ability gives her
several ways to kill, this has always been her favorite. Grabbing Hart’s head in both hands,
she sent several thousand volts screaming into her brain. After several seconds, Elle
stepped back and let her drop to the ground.
Setting the syringe on the table, I stood up for a better view. Five minutes later, exactly
as the file had indicated, her entire body caught fire. Over the next several minutes, during
which her clothing was incinerated, the heat grew so intense that we had to back away.
When the flames died, her body arched as she drew a sudden breath.
Grabbing the needle in one hand, I jumped across the table. Rolling her onto her
stomach, I shoved one knee into the small of her back. Grabbing her by the hair, I twisted
her head back and to the side, stabbing the needle into her carotid artery and injecting the
serum.
Standing up, I wiped the needle off and placed it back in the case. Closing the case and
tucking it back into my jacket pocket, I bent back down and picked Agent Hart up. Draping
her over my shoulder, I followed Elle into the interrogation room and dumped her on a
small table along the wall.
While we fixed the various shackles, clamps and plugs into place, I explained what had
just happened. “The injection was of a serum the boys in the labs whipped up. It has two
stages. The first stage is a temporary paralysis. It should pass sometime in the next few
hours, certainly no more than eight or ten. By that time, the second stage will be fully
operational. That portion of the serum is a nerve sensitizer. Everything we will do to you
would be painful anyway. Now it’ll be excruciating.”
Cradling her carefully into my arms, less worried about hurting her than about dislodging
the attachments, I carried her over to a metal frame on the floor. Laying her in the middle of
it, spread eagle, Elle and I clamped her wrist and ankle cuffs to it. After doing that, I tilted it
so that it was standing at an eighty-five degree angle and held it while Elle secured the
rods to keep it in place.
Once everything was ready, I lightly tapped her on the cheek. “We’ll see you in about
twelve hours.” Then we stepped out and shut off the lights.
Down the hall, we stepped into the room where Agent Coleman was being held. As soon
as we opened the door, he was on his feet and across the room. He tried to push his way
past us, but I held onto him and threw him across the room and into the table. Grabbing his
back, he leaned against the table and glared at us. “You have no fucking right to hold me
here!”
Elle looked at him in disgust. “Reread the contract, dumb fuck. We can cut you up and use
you for fucking bait if we want.”
Handing Elle the metal case from my pocket, I asked, “You saw where I got Hart right?”
Taking the case, she pulled out the syringe and filled it. “Carotid just below the ear?”
“One shot, and put it all in.” Walking over, I lifted him by his throat. “I was going to give
you one last shot at coming clean, but you just fucked that up.” Spinning him around, I
grabbed his shoulder in one hand, and twisted his head to the side. After Elle injected the
serum, I slid him over one shoulder and followed her into the other room.
Dumping him on the table, I quickly sliced off his clothing while Elle gave him the same
basic explanation I had given Hart. Throwing him to the floor, we tied him to a slightly
different frame. This one held him spread eagle, but slightly crouched, and at a roughly
sixty-five to seventy degree angle from the floor. It also had rods extending from the frame
to a harness around his waist, so he was forced to hold his hips and lower back slightly
behind the frame.
Lifting up his head so I could look in his face, I flashed a feral grin. “Your file says Elle can’
t hurt you, since you’re immune to energy discharges. That’s fine. You and I can have some
fun when we get back here tomorrow.” Turning off the lights and closing the door, we
headed back to the penthouse for the night.
Chapter 4: Questions
By Chris Ward
February 28, 2003; Odessa, Texas
Elle and I had come in shortly after 7, and had been conducting interviews all morning. So
far, we had only encountered one agent, Kristen Hart, who raised any red flags. She had
definitely lied when answering a couple questions. We’d bring her back after the remaining
interviews, and then decide if we needed to resort to harsher methods.
As we broke for lunch, I let Elle head for the car and stepped into Noah’s office. He was
busy looking through some field reports when I entered, but looked up as the door closed.
Pushing aside the reports, he leaned back in his chair. “How’s the inquest?”
Leaning against the wall, I flashed a tired grin. “Not bad. We’ve got one that was less than
honest with us. We’re going to bring her back later and give her one last chance to explain
herself.”
“If she doesn’t?”
“Things get ugly.”
Taking off his glasses, he cleaned them for a minute before looking back up. “All right.
What do you need from me?”
“Can you get Agent Hart’s file?”
Making a quick note, he nodded. “Anything else?”
“Not right now. See you later, Noah.” Leaving his office, I headed through the labyrinthine
halls to the elevators. As I was about to enter the main hall, I realized Elle was still out
there, and not alone. My nose clearly told me that she had just given someone a warning
zap. Closing my eyes, I tried to figure out what was going on.
“Listen fucker, if you try that shit again, I’ll fry that little fucking zit you call a dick down to
ash!”
Whoever was out there was apparently not intimidated. As I began to push open the door,
I heard him backhand her nearly hard enough to break her jaw. “Damned bitch-whore! If you
ever pull that shit on me again I’ll slice your little fuck-box and your cupcakes to fucking
ribbons before I kill you. I don’t give a flying fuck who your daddy is, bitch, you’re my whore
now! I’ll take your blonde ass any time, and any place, I damn well want, and you’ll fucking
accept it.” I could hear the vicious grin in his voice as I rounded the door, barely giving it
time to let me out. Looking down the hall, I saw him holding her against the wall, with one
meaty hand wrapped around her throat. “If you’d been a nice little slut, it might even have
been pleasant for you. Now that you pulled that stunt, I’m gonna make you fucking bleed!”
He was so absorbed with Elle that he had no clue I was there; at least not until I slammed
my fist into his kidney. With an agonized howl, he dropped her and fell to his knees, both
hands clasping the small of his back. When he fell from his knees to his side, I snapped two
of his ribs with a couple of kicks. Grabbing him by his throat and balls, I threw him down the
hall. Leaving him for a minute, I checked on Elle.
The slap to her face had quite nearly broken her jaw, which was already starting to swell
and bruise. Her blouse had been torn where he had tried to grab her breast, and a trickle
of blood ran from the corner of her mouth. Once he had released her throat, which bore
angry marks from his grip, she began to breathe easier. She was conscious and alert, but
not mobile.
Turning around, I walked down the hall to where he was trying to get back to his feet.
Grabbing him by the hair, I helped him up. Squeezing his throat, I slammed the back of his
head into the wall. “Who the fuck are you, dickless?”
Gasping for air around my grip, he said, “Thompson. I came with the file you wanted.”
Pausing for breath, he tried to look intimidating. “I run this branch.”
“You don’t run shit, fuck-face; and you sure as fucking hell don’t run us! We work for your
boss. Where’s that damn file?” When he moved his hand toward his jacket, I slapped it
aside, breaking his wrist. Laughing slightly, I shook my head. “Do you just not have a
fucking brain? Don’t act like you’re reaching for a damned gun, shit-brain. Just tell me next
time.”
Sliding my hand into his jacket, I found a CD. Glancing at it, I saw it was what I was looking
for, so I slipped it into my own pocket. Dropping him to the floor, I glanced over my
shoulder to see how Elle was doing. She had pulled herself together and was staring down
the hall in undisguised fury. Laughing, I waved her down.
Looking back down, I watched him contemptuously as he tried to stand. Driving one fist
into his stomach, I grabbed his head and lifted him back to his feet. Bending slightly, I
whispered in his ear. “You have a bruised kidney, a couple broken ribs, a broken wrist, and
probably a mild concussion. You are about to have a broken jaw and, if Elle’s expression is
anything to go by, a pair of toasted nuts. Now, if you don’t want that list to look and feel like
a walk in the fucking park, keep your paws off my partner, and never let me find out you’re
manhandling women like that again. If you ever, even in your dirtiest fuck dream, lay a
finger on her again, I’ll rip your damned Slim-Jim off and shove it down your fucking throat.
If you even threaten her, I will personally rip out your throat.”
Straightening back up, I bitch-slapped him hard enough to break his jaw but not quite
hard enough to knock him unconscious. Pinning him to the wall with one hand, I stepped
aside to let Elle through. With a cry of fury, she slammed one charged fist into his crotch,
listening gleefully to his screams as she released the electric charge.
Throwing him to the ground, I looked down at his painfully curled form almost clinically.
Regardless what Bob might have thought, part of my job as Elle’s partner is to train her so
she’s able to work solo. With that in mind, I grinned and looked over at her. “There’s a spot
in the small of the back, a nerve cluster actually, that causes a few minutes of paralysis
when hit just right. The victim can still feel everything but is completely immobilized.”
Prodding along his back with my shoe, I drew back my foot and slammed it into the spot just
beside the spine. Elle laughed viciously as his eyes filled with mute agony.
Glancing down, I shook my head. “Go ahead and grab the car. I’ll call and let someone
know they need to haul this ass-wipe to the medical wing.”
After she left, I slipped back through the door and made the call. Before heading outside,
I crouched down beside him. “Just a word of advice, cock sucker; don’t even think about
retaliation. What just happened was a fucking warning. If you come after us, in any way, I’ll
have to take steps.”
With that, I headed outside. Before lunch we stopped at the penthouse so Elle could
conceal the damage, and so I could print out the information on the disc.
***********
Unknown Date; Unknown Location
Havoc has followed the strangers since locating them. The one called Charles is the
obvious leader, which is surprising given the unmistakable scent of illness he carries.
The other, Maury, calls for another halt, breathing heavily. He is obviously unused to
physical exertion. Charles looks around, and then looks at the piece of paper he’s carrying.
“Isn’t it about time for another sweep?”
“Why? There’s nothing here, Charles. I don’t know what the fuck they were smoking, but
they sent us on a damned wild goose chase.”
“Just do it, Parkman. It’s been over an hour since the last check.”
“Whatever.” Maury goes completely still, giving the impression that he is reaching out.
After a couple minutes, his eyes clear with a surprised expression. “I guess I was wrong.
We seem to have company.”
In shock, Havoc crouches against the limb he is on. Sampling the air around him, he
realizes that they’re still alone. Confused, he crawls closer.
“How close is he?”
“Close enough to hear us. I think he can see us, too. This isn’t exact, his thoughts are a
little… well, odd, I guess is the best way to say it…, but I think he’s been following us and
trying to decide if we’re a threat.”
Havoc watches as Charles looks around for a couple seconds. In surprise, he realizes
that the man is looking directly at him with an odd smile on his face. “Can you reach him?”
“If I know where he’s at? Sure. I can’t get a read on him though.”
“He’s over in this direction, not that far away actually.”
Maury turns in the direction indicated by Charles, and closes his eyes. After several
minutes he grunts and says, “It’s all right. You need to come out and meet us.”
The voice seems almost to echo inside Havoc’s head, battering aside his paranoia and
caution until the command merges into his own thoughts, seeming to originate internally
rather than externally, finally demanding obedience.
With a twisting leap, Havoc lands in front of the strangers.
***********
February 28, 2003; Odessa, Texas
After finishing the interviews, we met with Noah. Handing the Hart file over with a broad
grin, he laughed shortly. “What the hell happened up there? I haven’t seen Thompson in
that kind of shape in years.”
Shrugging, I flipped through the file and handed it to Elle. “There was a small question of
authority.”
“I take it he did something to piss you off?”
Shaking my head slightly, I flashed a small grin. “No. What happened to him was
instructional. You know me, Noah. If he’d pissed me off, he’d be begging me to kill him.
He’s one of those guys that seems to enjoy dipping his wick in the Company help.”
Indicating Elle with a nod of my head, I said, “She didn’t want to play so he got rough. That’s
when I stepped in.”
Dropping the smile, he cleared his throat. “Be careful with him, Michael. Thompson’s
definitely a lecherous ass, but he’s also in a position to make life difficult for you.”
“Thanks for the warning, but he already knows what’ll happen to him if he gets in my way.”
Leaning back in my chair, I shrugged. “Anyway, that’s not why we’re here. We ran across
another agent struggling with honesty.”
“Who is it?”
Flipping through my notes, I found the name. “Agent Greg Coleman.”
Making a note, he nodded. “All right. I should have that ready in about an hour.”
Getting quickly to her feet, Elle headed for the door. “Good. We’ll have time for some
preparations.”
Noah watched her leave and then looked at me. “Preparations?”
Shrugging, I stood to follow her. “They may decide to be difficult. We’ll have to persuade
them to stop.”
Joining her in the hall, nearly having to run to catch her, I grabbed her arm and stopped
her once we were away from Noah’s office. “What the hell was that all about?”
Rolling her eyes, she tried to break my grip. “Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Elle. We’ve been partners long enough for me to know when
something’s up. What’s the deal here?”
“It’s not that big a deal. He’s never cared for me, and I can’t stand him. I just wanted out of
there. That’s all!”
Looking into her face, I could see she wasn’t telling me everything. “We’ve both worked
with people we didn’t like, Elle. It’s never been a problem before. You’ve got some other
problem here; what is it?”
I knew that something was definitely wrong here. What I didn’t realize was how sensitive
this particular subject was. Her eyes flashed, and I was suddenly crashing against the
opposite wall with a burning pain in my chest. Her voice came out in an emotion-strangled
snarl. “You wanna know what the fuck’s wrong? Fine! Some dumb ass politician can’t keep
his dick out of some trailer trash bimbo. The whore gets knocked up, and the politician’s
mommy, one of Daddy’s friends, gets the Company to hide the whole fucking thing.
Apparently both White Trash and Wet Dick have some sort of super abilities, and their bitch
daughter’s supposed to grow into some sort of fucking Wonder Woman. So, they give
Golden Boy in there the brat to raise, with the promise he’ll turn her in if she manifests.
Daddy’s counting the days, expecting some sort of uber-powered slut, and can’t shut the
fuck up about her. Then, of course, there’s that bitch-whore they gave Daddy to raise.”
Rubbing at the fried spot on my chest, I looked up from the floor in confusion. “You mean
Sarah?”
“Yep. Wonder-bitch Noonan in all her fucking glory! Daddy loves her, hell, everybody
loves Sarah fucking Noonan. The Golden Agent; She Who Can Do No Fucking Wrong!” Her
voice was growing more passionate with nearly every syllable, hovering just below a
scream. “Even when she abandoned her position, so she could whore around with her
dumb-ass lover instead of doing the job she’d signed up for, Daddy didn’t care.” The bitter
twist to those last words made me look closely at her.
I was a little surprised to see tears standing in her eyes. “I’m his fucking daughter, not
just some foster-bitch forced on him by the Company.” The pain in her voice was heart-
breaking, even for someone with less than the average amount of sympathy. “I’ve always
done every damned thing I was asked; followed every order I was given. If I was put on a
mission, I completed it as best I could. I can’t even get a fucking ‘Thank You’ from him. I
have to beg for every kind word, each ounce of recognition. All I get from him without a
fight are more fucking orders. But all Sarah has to do is toss back her hair, or bat her
eyelashes and Daddy’s willing to give the fucking Company keys to her.”
Pushing myself up from the floor, still rubbing my singed chest, I had to concede her
point. Bob was definitely never going to be Father of the Year. I’d noticed, early in our
partnership, a tendency to take outrageous risks. At first, I thought it was simply a death
wish. After the first few missions, and watching her interaction with Bob, I realized the
truth. Everything she did was out of a desire to be recognized by her father. If she screwed
up, he was right there to let her know just how disappointed he was in her. The reverse
was not true. I sincerely doubt he’s said more than a handful of kind words to her in her life.
Part of why she and I make such a great team is that we mesh. We’re both irredeemably
damaged, but we work well together. Part of that is because I take her as she is. The only
attempts I make to improve her in any way are through training. When she fucks up, which
has become less often as we’ve worked together, I jump her ass. When she gets it right,
which is far more often than Bob will admit, I give her the credit she deserves. In return, I
get a damned good partner.
Grunting, I pushed away from the wall. “Let’s get to work.”
***********
Unknown Date; New York, New York
“Hello, Michael. How are you this morning?” He’s seem this woman, Angela, before.
Something about her scent always raises his hackles. Seated on the bed in his cell, he
keeps his head lowered and follows her with his nose and ears.
After several minutes of silence, feeling her amused stare bore into him, he lifts his head
to return her gaze; his face as blank and lifeless as his pure white eyes. Guilt at what he
views to be an abandonment of his community, coupled with an impotent fury at his virtual
imprisonment, has quite nearly destroyed his will. As the days passed and bled together,
and the testing became more invasive and painful, he has sunk into a dark depression.
“I thought you might enjoy a bit of a walk.”
“I’m not your dog, Angela.”
Folding her arms across her chest, she coolly returns his stare. With an ironic twist in her
voice, she says, “Amazing. You are capable of speech.”
Leaning his head against the wall behind him, he closes his eyes and sighs. “What do you
want?”
“I came by to see how Charles’ promising new recruit was coming along. I must admit that
I am quite pleased he isn’t here right now to see his ‘great leader’ cowering in his cage like
a whipped cur.”
The deliberate wording of her insult, dripping with venomous contempt, strikes with whip-
like force against the fading embers of his pride. What she says next stirs his will into a
boiling rage. “If those poor children trusted you to look after them, it’s a wonder they
weren’t already dead.”
With a roar, he leaps to his feet. Halfway across the room, he hears a familiarly soothing
voice in his head. “Calm, Michael. Be calm.” Slowly, under the force of that inner voice, the
rage dissipates. Blinking in surprise, he sees Angela smiling at him.
Speaking over her shoulder, she says, “Thank you, Maury. You may leave now.”
Maury? Closing his eyes, he attempts to locate the man. With a horrified start, he realizes
that he can find no trace of him. Stretching out with his senses, he finds they seemed to
have been turned off. Not only can he not locate Maury, but Angela, standing right in front
of him, seems to have become invisible to his nose and ears.
Opening his eyes in terror, he looks around wildly before focusing on Angela. “Well, your
brains aren’t completely asleep. You figured that out faster than I expected. Since your
memories seem to be causing you so much trouble, I’d like you to meet a young friend of
mine who will, at least temporarily, remedy that situation.”
As she leaves the room, a young black man enters. Staring at him, Havoc somehow
realizes that this man is the reason his senses have been dulled. “Who are you?”
Reaching a hand toward his forehead, the young man speaks in a thickly accented voice.
“A friend. Sleep now. When you awake, the demons that haunt you will be forgotten.”
***********
February 28, 2003; Odessa, Texas
Noah had ordered Agents Kristen Hart and Greg Coleman held in separate interview
rooms in one of the deepest levels of the facility. The rooms were featureless,
uncomfortably warm and completely enclosed, lacking even an observation window. They
had only two doors each, requiring codes that were changed after each use. The first of the
doors led from the hall to the room, while the second door led to a slightly larger
interrogation chamber Elle and I had spent most of the last hour preparing.
After a brief discussion, we decided to tackle Hart first. When we entered, she was seated
at the interview table and quite obviously irritated. A slim, attractive brunette wearing a
business skirt and blouse that were just a shade too tight, her brown eyes fastened on us
as soon as the door opened. “What the fuck am I doing here?”
Tossing her file on the table, I smiled. “Being given one last chance, actually.”
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “One last chance at what?”
“Honesty. We know you lied to us during the earlier interview. If you’ll tell us the truth
now, we can forget earlier.”
Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms. “What lie did I supposedly tell?”
Taking her cue, Elle put her hands on the table and leaned forward. “Don’t give us that
shit, bitch! We know you lied to us.”
“About what?” If Elle’s performance intimidated her, it wasn’t obvious.
Pulling out my notes, I pretended to look through them. “When we asked about any
private meetings you might have had with Bernhelm, you denied any such.”
“And?”
“It was a lie, Hart.” Dropping the notes to the table, I reached into my pocket and pulled
out a slim metal case. Setting it on the table, I glanced back at her. “You know it was a lie.
That means I know it was a lie. And, since we’re partners, that also means Elle knows it was
a lie. If you’ll be honest with us now, we can move on without any unpleasantness.”
Standing up, she leaned forward, attempting to take control of the meeting. “I don’t know
what you’re talking about. We worked together one time. We barely talked on the mission.
We sure as hell never had any private meetings.”
Shrugging, I sat down and opened her file. Glancing at it, I opened the case and pulled
out a small syringe. “The file says that you’re a Phoenix. From what the description says, it’s
an ability I’ve never seen before.” Pulling out a vial of the serum from inside the case, I
filled the syringe. Tapping the air out of it, I said, “Elle?”
With a vicious grin, Elle sauntered around the table. Although her ability gives her
several ways to kill, this has always been her favorite. Grabbing Hart’s head in both hands,
she sent several thousand volts screaming into her brain. After several seconds, Elle
stepped back and let her drop to the ground.
Setting the syringe on the table, I stood up for a better view. Five minutes later, exactly
as the file had indicated, her entire body caught fire. Over the next several minutes, during
which her clothing was incinerated, the heat grew so intense that we had to back away.
When the flames died, her body arched as she drew a sudden breath.
Grabbing the needle in one hand, I jumped across the table. Rolling her onto her
stomach, I shoved one knee into the small of her back. Grabbing her by the hair, I twisted
her head back and to the side, stabbing the needle into her carotid artery and injecting the
serum.
Standing up, I wiped the needle off and placed it back in the case. Closing the case and
tucking it back into my jacket pocket, I bent back down and picked Agent Hart up. Draping
her over my shoulder, I followed Elle into the interrogation room and dumped her on a
small table along the wall.
While we fixed the various shackles, clamps and plugs into place, I explained what had
just happened. “The injection was of a serum the boys in the labs whipped up. It has two
stages. The first stage is a temporary paralysis. It should pass sometime in the next few
hours, certainly no more than eight or ten. By that time, the second stage will be fully
operational. That portion of the serum is a nerve sensitizer. Everything we will do to you
would be painful anyway. Now it’ll be excruciating.”
Cradling her carefully into my arms, less worried about hurting her than about dislodging
the attachments, I carried her over to a metal frame on the floor. Laying her in the middle of
it, spread eagle, Elle and I clamped her wrist and ankle cuffs to it. After doing that, I tilted it
so that it was standing at an eighty-five degree angle and held it while Elle secured the
rods to keep it in place.
Once everything was ready, I lightly tapped her on the cheek. “We’ll see you in about
twelve hours.” Then we stepped out and shut off the lights.
Down the hall, we stepped into the room where Agent Coleman was being held. As soon
as we opened the door, he was on his feet and across the room. He tried to push his way
past us, but I held onto him and threw him across the room and into the table. Grabbing his
back, he leaned against the table and glared at us. “You have no fucking right to hold me
here!”
Elle looked at him in disgust. “Reread the contract, dumb fuck. We can cut you up and use
you for fucking bait if we want.”
Handing Elle the metal case from my pocket, I asked, “You saw where I got Hart right?”
Taking the case, she pulled out the syringe and filled it. “Carotid just below the ear?”
“One shot, and put it all in.” Walking over, I lifted him by his throat. “I was going to give
you one last shot at coming clean, but you just fucked that up.” Spinning him around, I
grabbed his shoulder in one hand, and twisted his head to the side. After Elle injected the
serum, I slid him over one shoulder and followed her into the other room.
Dumping him on the table, I quickly sliced off his clothing while Elle gave him the same
basic explanation I had given Hart. Throwing him to the floor, we tied him to a slightly
different frame. This one held him spread eagle, but slightly crouched, and at a roughly
sixty-five to seventy degree angle from the floor. It also had rods extending from the frame
to a harness around his waist, so he was forced to hold his hips and lower back slightly
behind the frame.
Lifting up his head so I could look in his face, I flashed a feral grin. “Your file says Elle can’
t hurt you, since you’re immune to energy discharges. That’s fine. You and I can have some
fun when we get back here tomorrow.” Turning off the lights and closing the door, we
headed back to the penthouse for the night.
