Chapter 7

Olsen was sitting in his office. His phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Colin? Good news! I'm getting out!"

"Really?"

"Yeah. I get out on parole. I'll be in your little clubhouse by noon."

Olsen walked back into the control room. "What's the news?"

"Bad news sir." The operative said. "We lost the assassin."

"Who killed him?" Olsen asked.

The operative swallowed. "Bolt sir."

"What? Bolt isn't a threat."

"He is now. He was the one on the school bus. He ran our guy off the roof."

"Any more bad news?"

"Yes sir. The dog we shot…he died."

"That's good then." Olsen said.

"Actually…if he died…we tested him. He had no powers. He never did."

"So…we shot an innocent dog."

"Worse. You know the TV show Bolt?"

Olsen slammed his fist on the table. "We went to eliminate a threat. Instead we shot a freaking actor."

He looked out the window, wondering what he had done.

Randall Webster sat down at the table. Colin Olsen sat opposite.

"So would you tell me how you managed to completely screw up this operation?"

"It's not completely screwed up."

"Really? Two supercharged dogs on the loose, several innocents injured because of your incompetence. And why the hell did you bring Bolt into it?"

"He was a success. I thought we should base the experiment on our lone success."

"Our? Our lone success? No. You aren't one of us. A year ago Sector X meant something. We had me and Richard Jeffries. Now we've got shit like you. Colin, if you're gonna last in this business, you gotta know something. You're replaceable. Everyone's freakin replaceable."

Olsen watched his former mentor. "You backstabbing prick. You sit in jail and I do your job for you. And this is how you thank me?"

Webster reached into his jacket. He pulled out a pistol and fired several shots at his associate.

Olsen ducked. In seconds he had pulled out his own pistol and fired.

The bullet went right through Webster's head. He fell back, off the chair.

Olsen gasped, realizing what he had done. He dropped the gun to the ground.

"Oh god. Randy. I'm sorry Randy."

He got up and walked over to the body of Randall Webster. He was slumped backwards in his chair. His blood had sprayed all over the wall behind him. Olsen would have trouble explaining this to the CIA.

Bolt watched the sleeping city from the rooftop. His heart yearned to be back home with Penny. But he knew it would bring too much danger.

He sighed. He had already lost too much. Charlie's death had been devastating. He couldn't stand losing anyone else.

"Too much for you?"

Bolt turned. 3.0.

"You son of a bitch."

"So are you. We are dogs."

"No. You're not a dog. You're a test tube. You're a freak."

3.0 grinned. "Sticks and stones Bolty."

The awful damage to the side of 3.0's face was eerily illuminated by the moon.

"You organized the whole thing. Instead of shooting you the sniper shot Charlie."

"You're right Bolt. I organized it all. I went close to Sovereign. They picked me up on their radar. Instead of shooting me, they shot your actor friend."

"You let someone die because of you. You…"

"Before you say anything about me, consider this. I am you."

Bolt shook his head. "I'm not you."

"Scientifically yes. Everything I have done, you are mentally capable of."

"You're lying…"

"Bolt. Listen for just one second. Every bad thought, every bad seed in that enormous head of yours is me."

"But…I've never…done anything like that."

"Haven't you? Why, just today you threw a man off a building."

Bolt paused. "No. No, it's not true."

"It is Bolt. And now I have come to kill you."

3.0 leapt forward. Bolt didn't resist. The clone began the beating.

An old man was walking down the streets, whistling to himself.

Suddenly something large landed in front of him. He screamed.

Lying in front of him was a small white lump. There were dashes of red blood all over him.

The man knelt down. The creature wasn't moving. He realized that it was a dog.

From the rooftops 3.0 watched. He grinned. "Until we meet again Bolty."

Bolt came back to consciousness. He was in an old house. He looked at himself. His numerous wounds had stopped bleeding. He had lost a lot of blood.

"So…much for…indestructible." He wheezed.

"What was that?"

Bolt jumped, then groaned in pain again. There was an old man standing at the doorway.

"You talk?"

Bolt realized that because of the powers he could communicate with humans.

"Yeah, I talk."

The old man didn't blink. "Well that's convenient."

The old man had a Hispanic accent. "You were pretty screwed up when I found you. You haven't thanked me."

Bolt grinned weakly. "Thanks."

The man laid a blanket on him. "You looked like you'd been hit by a Hummer."

Bolt nodded. "It feels that way too."

The man got up and walked away. "You'd better get some rest. You look like you need it."

The old man turned off the light. Bolt wished more than ever that he could sleep.