Greetings fellow readers and writers! Wow! My fourth fic! This time around, we're visiting the world of Lemony Snicket's 'A Series of Unfortunate Events.' I'm not much of a fan of the books, but the movie was great. IMHO, Jim Carry was born to play the role of Olaf. So this story is my follow up to the movie, featuring my creation(s), Max Kildare and the Ramblers. Time wise, it takes place about two weeks after the end of my first story 'Harry Potter: Quest for the Horcruxes.' Now I don't own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events,' what I do own are all the original characters we'll meet in the story. And now, on with the show!

PRE-STORY ARGUMENT

The ending of this story is neither happy or sad, but rather neutral. I won't say anything more so not to spoil the story. This story doesn't contain first person views of teenage wizards, fairies aliens or dragons. Nor does it contain epic adventure sequences. If you're looking for such a story, I'm sure they're other fan written stories a few web pages away. However, if you like fan written stories about secret government agencies, Meta-Humans, bounty hunters, the struggle for free energy and ghostly possessions, then I'm sure you'll enjoy…

COUNT OLAF MUST DIE!

By AndrewK9000

Chapter 1: The Next Mission

The time: Mid-September 2007. The place, somewhere in the southeast United States of America…

Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire sat in the back seat of Mr. Poe's car, heading towards their new guardian. But we'll get to them later….

At 3:00 a.m. Pacific Daylight Savings Time, Max Kildare, a 5'7" Caucasian male with brown hair and brown eyes, checked his watch for the tenth time that hour, as he sat in the lobby of LAX outside Los Angeles for his flight back east to Washington D.C. After a two week vacation in Hawaii, the 24 year old Meta-Human was anxious to get back to work protecting the human race from demonic threats, as well as un-dead threats and other things supernatural which threatened mankind. That and other objectives, is the mission of The Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense.

What Max was most anxious for was to see how his longtime friend and fellow Meta-Human Leon Smyth-Falcon, a.k.a. 'Cajun Man' was doing. A few months ago, Leon was bitten on the hand by what was at first classified as a zombie. Leon was teleported back to Bureau headquarters to be cryogenically frozen, in hopes that a cure for Solanum, a.k.a the Necro-Virus could be found.

As it turned out, the zombie that bit Leon wasn't your standard zombie at all. It was an Infiri, a reanimated cadaver controlled by a powerful necromancer/wizard, in this case, the late 'Lord' Voldemort, a.k.a. 'The Dark Lord;' 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named;' 'You-Know-Who…' you get the idea.

With no trace of Solanum found in said Infiri, Leon was brought out of frozen sleep not too long ago, in perfect health. Leon resented Max for freezing him for nothing, but Max didn't care. Leon was one of the first Meta-Humans to join the advanced tactical strike team put together by the Bureau back in 1999, codenamed The Ramblers. Being a Rambler meant that your life expectancy was rather low.

Having survived eight years and more missions than he'd care to count, Max Kildare was just glad that his friend was going to live. His musings over Leon were interrupted by the appearance of two USA government agents in full black suits and sunglasses, even though it was three in the morning. "Max Kildare?" asked one of the agents.

"Who wants to know?" asked Max. "NSA," said the other agent, holding up his badge, "You are Max Kildare, are you?" "I am," said Max, "What can I do for the National Security Agency at three in the morning?" "Sir," said the first agent, "Our orders are to make sure that you are put in contact with Washington as soon as possible." "Is there an emergency?" asked Max, for whenever Washington needed to talk to him a.s.a.p, it usually meant something horrible had happened that needed his special attention.

"We're not at liberty to discuss the details," said the second agent, "Our orders ate to get you back to Washington immediately." Max checked his watch for the eleventh time, "My flight's not due for another hour." "We have a special plane prepped and ready for you," said the first agent, "Your luggage is being loaded as we speak." "Such wonderful service," said Max sarcastically, "If only it applied to the rest of the nation."

As the crow flies, the distance between L.A. and D.C. is roughly 3,200 miles. The 'special' plane Max was flying on had a cruising speed of about Mach 5, about 3,750 mph. This allowed Max to be back in Washington D.C. in less than an hour, arriving just after 7:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Savings Time. Upon exiting the plane, Max was met by none other than the head of the Bureau, David 'Diamond Dave' Callahan; a 6'4" male from New York City with dark brown hair and gray eyes.

"Glad you made it back in good time," said Callahan, "How was Hawaii?" "Cooler than normal for this time of year," said Max, "Which suited me fine. Now what's so important that the NSA had to come fetch me?" "I'll tell you on the way back to headquarters," said Callahan, "This is a matter of national security."

"You and your team have done wonders for the human race," said Callahan while he and Max were in Callahan's private limo, en route to downtown Washington, "That last one in Great Briton was awe inspiring." "I wouldn't exactly call stopping a megalomaniac like Voldemort awe inspiring," said Max, "But we do what we can." "I know it was a tough mission," said Callahan, "And we all appreciate what you and the Ramblers have done. But now I've got another mission for you and your team. This one straight from the President himself."

"And what does the President what me to do?" asked Max. "It's more like a request," said Callahan, "And don't say yes until I tell you the details." Max listened to what Callahan had to say, nodding every now and then. When they'd reached Bureau headquarters, Max got out while Callahan stayed in the car, "I've got other matters to attend to," said Callahan, "You're getting some new recruits soon."

"After what happened to Ken, Skeater and Fay," said Max, "My team could benefit from some new blood. And don't worry about the others, when I explain the circumstances of the mission, they'll all be for it." He closed the car door and entered the building.

Bureau Headquarters was located in what at first appeared to be an ordinary 4-story office building in downtown Washington D.C. It was an office building. However, when Max swiped his security card next to an elevator, entered a 12-digit code onto the keypad, had his palm scanned and spoke the voice code; "9-3-4 Texas," a female electronic voice said "Access Granted! Welcome Max Kildare." The elevator opened, he pressed the lone button, and the elevator took him several stories underground.

He exited the elevator to another set of offices, mainly full of bureau agents monitoring the world for signs of paranormal activity. At the main control room the clerks told Max where three members of his team were in the complex; Laura Hurst was in her office talking to her parents, Steve Austin was in the Gravity Room training at 38 times Earth's normal gravity, while Virgil Blake was in one of the Bureau's many lab's working on a project of his.

Max had all three paged to meet him in the main conference room. First to arrive was Laura. At 5'4" Laura wouldn't strike anyone as dangerous. However, this amber eyed 18.5 year old from Denver was one of the most powerful telekinetic beings on the planet. The downside was that her power depended on her emotions, if Laura got too angry, she could tear a hole in the fabric of reality.

Virgil came in next. He wore a white lab coat and dark wraparound sunglasses. He hardly ever took off the sunglasses, for behind them were robotic eyes. His real eyes were burned out on a previous mission. "How are the new eyes working?" asked Max, for not too long ago, Virgil's cyber eyes exploded in the heat of battle, leaving him blind for several days until new ones could be implanted. "They're working better than the old ones," said Virgil, "I'm seeing better than ever."

"Anyone seen Maria?" asked Steve as he came in, the reek of sweat pouring from his body. Steve had auburn hair and brown eyes, not the smartest apple in the barrel, but you can't deny his courage. "You know Steve," said Virgil, "You had time to get a shower before coming to the meeting." "Max said he wanted to see us right now," said Steve, "I can always shower later." "I just hope my nose survives the experience." Said Laura.

"Well the sooner I can talk," said Max, "The sooner we can start. First thing's first, we're getting four new Meta-Humans tomorrow. Since D.P. is training to get use to his new arm," D.P. having had his arm torn out by Voldemort, "And Jill's in Miami under the care of Doc Spartan, it'll be up to the four of us to put the new fish through the paces."

"Great!" exclaimed Steve, "I'm no longer the new guy!" "Feels like you've been here forever." Said Virgil. "Anyway," said Max, trying to keep Steve and Virgil from baiting each other, "There's one more thing I need to talk to you. What do you know about 'Count' Olaf?" "Only what I've read and seen in the news," said Laura, "A former stage actor turned serial killer, a self proclaimed master of disguise."

"Well he may claim to be a master of disguise," said Virgil, "But Olaf has yet to be caught by law enforcement personnel, despite several attempts at capture." "The fact that those who have taken on the task of catching the f#cker are a bunch of incompetent bastards," said Steve, "doesn't help at all."

"Exactly," said Max, "Olaf has made a mockery of state and local police, as well as the efforts of the FBI, CIA and the NSA. As it turns out, Olaf has incurred the wrath of our President. As you know, each administration is allowed to secretly order the deaths of three individuals per term, no more than three." "And since next year is an election year," said Laura, "It's use them or lose them."

"He's got two left," said Virgil, "Since we were ordered to kill Voldemort." "I don't know if that one counted," said Steve, "Remember, Harry Potter killed Voldemort." "Well you helped hold Voldemort still while Harry charged his attack," said Virgil, "So that one does count." "Moving along," said Max, "Callahan told me on the way here that the President had signed the order last night. We've been assigned this mission because, to use Callahan's words, 'We're the best at getting the job done, whatever the job is.'

"Glad to know the big boss is so confident in our abilities," said Laura, "So, we're going actor hunting." "Exactly," said Max, "No matter how long it takes, no matter the cost, Count Olaf must die!" "Sounds sweet to me!" exclaimed Steve, "I think I'll go get that shower now." "Thank you very much!" exclaimed Virgil.

As Steve left the room, followed by Virgil, Max noticed that Laura had stood up, but wasn't heading for the door. "Something wrong Laura?" asked Max, "Something about the mission bothering you?" "Believe me," said Laura, "I want nothing more than to see this madman dead. But what's bugging me is something else. Ever since we got back from England, I've been sensing something weird in the building, something inside Bureau headquarters."

Max said nothing for a moment before saying, "Well if the feeling gets any stronger, let me know." "Of course," said Laura, "You'll be the first to know."

The end of chapter 1. Next chapter, we change scenes to look in on others who are out to kill Olaf. See you next time!