A FEW HOURS LATER...
"So the new hero in the area was actually some jerk hired to follow you? Creepy."
Kali's comment was made around a mouthful of Taylor's homemade spaghetti. He could not help but grin. The two had the lair to themselves for the next few nights, as Goat Eyes wanted to visit a friend from another tribe near Central Park.
"Yeah, but it's okay now. Fury's got him, and he'll get everything he wants to know out of the guy."
"How can you be so sure? The guy might not talk."
"Oh please! They've got chemicals that could make a boulder sing the opera. Trust me, they can make one bozo tell his life story, if they want to. I'm done worrying about it. I managed to kill two birds with one stone, anyway. I completed the mission, fairly efficiently, I might add, and got rid of that tracking beacon at the same time. The rest is Fury's problem."
As if summoned by his name, Taylor's communicator started beeping. Taylor scowled, and assumed his battle costume. Pulling the earpiece from his pocket, he snarled "Go ahead, Fury. We hear you."
"Sorry to interrupt yer dinner, kid, but we got us a situation. Get topside fast. I've got a car waitin' fer ya."
"Copy that. Out."
He turned to Kali, his mask retracting to reveal a sheepish looking Taylor.
"Sorry sweetheart."
Kali stood up from the table, and came over to give him a kiss that he felt all the way to his toes.
"Just come back to me in one piece. I have plans for you, mister."
The symbiote assumed the appearance of a Marine in dress blues. Giving a sharp salute, He said "Ma'am, yes ma'am!"
SHIELD HEADQUARTERS
Taylor looked into the room, feeling a kind of sick dread. The man in the green and black costume was sitting in the chair, surrounded by technicians. The costumed man was dead, and appeared to have been dead for quite some time, as did the technicians. Even Taylor's other shuddered, making his skin crawl. He shook his head, and turned to Fury.
"Super ebola? Do we even want to know how this came about?"
Fury chewed the end of his unlit cigar, his one eye blazing with anger.
"Unauthorized weapons program. President found out about it, and went apeshit. Had it shut down."
"Looks like he missed one. This man was following us with the help of that tracking device we gave you. You know what that means."
"Yep. It means you get to go back, and this time you are fully authorized to clean house. Keep the body count to a minimum, though. I want arrests, not body bags."
"It will be our pleasure, sir. It will be our pleasure. Does this mean we finally get a badge?"
Fury's one eye blinked.
"Finally get a badge? You should have been issued one when you got your uniform."
This time it was Taylor's turn to blink.
"We were supposed to get a uniform?"
Fury began massaging his temple, feeling the onset of a headache.
"Go down to the supply room, and tell that idiot that I said you are to be issued a set of uniforms, a badge with identification, and a sidearm. If you are not issued these items, you have him call me. If he won't call me, then you will call me, and I will personally bury my foot in his lazy ass!"
Taylor stood there for a moment, seriously considering arguing about the sidearm, but decided against it, not wanting to be yelled at anymore. Having finally got back into Fury's good graces, it seemed simpler to just agree with the man, and do as ordered.
Soon, Taylor was dressed, armed with a knockout gas pistol, and staring at his new SHIELD identification badge as a SHIELD jet carried him off to his assignment. A holographic image of his face looked back at him. The card also had his name, rank, and other pertinent information on it.
From fugitive to SHIELD agent in just a couple of weeks. How freaky is that?
Soon it was time to deploy from the jet, and when the other agents lined up behind him, Taylor could not help feel a certain amount of pride. One of the men offered him a jet pack. Taylor's response was to grin, assume his battle outfit, complete with glider wings, and dive out of the cargo bay door.
Mr. Scientist, I am about to seriously wreck your day!
They landed just inside the front gate of the facility. Taylor retracted his wings, and turned to his men.
"Okay. Shuck your jet packs, and get ready to rumble. Be ready to run, though. These guys like playing with biological weapons, so if you get even a hint of something off, run like the wind. Ready?"
Receiving nods all around, he turned and entered the building, retracting his other as he did so. Walking along in his SHIELD uniform made him walk just a little bit taller, and the smile on his face was just a little bit smug. The idea of turning the tables on his tormentor was a delicious thing.
Taylor's smile began to fade as he realized that the complex seemed to be abandoned. His other was snarling by the time they reached the scientist's office.
Taylor, if that man has skipped out on us, I will hunt him down and kill him.
If he's skipped out on us, I may just let you do it.
Taylor opened the door to the office, and nearly choked on what he saw. The floor was littered with bodies, in varying states of decay. He assumed his battle outfit.
"Back off! Everybody out now! Now! Get Fury on the horn, and tell him we want a decontamination team in here, and quarantine this facility."
With orders issued and being relayed, Taylor resigned himself to the fact that he would not be able to go home for a while. Deciding to make himself useful, he headed off to the main laboratory. He was quite surprised to see the man he had come to find, sitting quite comfortably on the examination bed.
"Hello, Mr. Stevens. I was beginning to think you weren't going to be coming back. The 'angry symbiote parent' trick was clever, by the way. What was the real purpose of all that, if you don't mind my asking?"
"We were gathering evidence. We work for SHIELD now, and you are under arrest for treason."
The man smiled maliciously.
"Am I now? Well then, I suppose you'd better take me in."
Taylor felt his neck hairs stand up.
Okay. He is WAY to eager for me to grab him. Is someone else in here?
No. We're alone. Let's not touch him. He smells funny.
Funny how?
Funny as in sick. He smells diseased. He's done something to himself. Become a plague carrier, perhaps? Immune to what he carries, but deadly to any who touch him. He's clever enough to try it.
Clever my eye! That's insane!
True, but it would explain the scene in his office.
Taylor activated his communicator.
"Sergeant Milton, we have the target, but we need a team in here to take him. He's contaminated himself with something nasty. Noone else comes into this place without full NBC gear."
Awaiting a response, and receiving none, Taylor tried again. He backed out into the hallway, and saw all his men. They were all dead, and beginning to rot. Saying a quick prayer for the men, he turned his attention back to the scientist.
"You sick bastard. What did you do?"
The man's smile did not even waver.
"It was quite simple, actually. We had enough data from your first stay here to make an airborne toxin that would render any symbiote dead within minutes. Then we worked the other side of the equation, and found one that would kill anything except a symbiote. From that, we branched off into making our own symbiotes. They're not as smart as yours, and not quite as powerful, but they are still young. They'll grow in time, and I'm certain they'll match anything you can do."
Taylor shivered, and felt a growing sense that he was not alone. The dawning realization of what he had just been told struck him like a fist.
"You have a symbiote now."
A sickly green slime began to seep out of the man's pores.
"Very good, Mr. Stevens. You catch on quickly. It's a pity that you're obsolete now. Your experience would have been useful in training the others."
Swallowing thickly, Taylor said "Others? How many did you create?"
"My own, plus four others. The rest didn't survive long enough to bond to a host."
The man's transformation was nearly complete. Taylor had the feeling that once it was, the conversation would be over. Dreading the fight that would come after, Taylor tried to relax into the ready stance that his mother had taught him. The green symbiote stood up, it's transformation finished.
"You may call us... Plague. It seems fitting, we think."
"We'd rather call you something not repeatable in polite company. You do realize what will happen if you and the others start spawning. A new Synoptic will be born, and the human race will be finished. The group mind will own this planet."
A knowledge came into Taylor's mind, unbidden, and he suddenly knew where all the surviving symbiotes were relative to his position. He could almost hear a kind of whispering from each of them, and felt his other's revulsion.
"Vile, unnatural abominations! Fire and screaming to you all!"
The next few minutes blurred for Taylor as he tried to defend himself against four enraged symbiotes, all of whom wanted nothing more than to beat him into bleeding unconsciousness.
They succeeded.
SHIELD HELICARRIER
Taylor came to wakefulness, and immediately wished he hadn't. His groan echoed strangely, and he opened his eyes to see the room where he lay. It did not take him long to figure out that he was in the quarantine section of the helicarrier. Taking stock of his situation, he found that his ribs had been taped up, and there was a brace on his right knee. The bruises that covered his arms and torso looked deep, and had that dark purple that faded out into yellowish green.
"Great. I'm a walking war wound."
Kali's voice came from the window.
"At least you're alive, Taylor. Goat Eyes was worried you might not wake up."
Staggering over to the big window, Taylor placed a hand on it, wishing he could hold his lover.
"My question is, why did I wake up at all? I thought I was history when those other guys started kicking the crap out of me. Oh, and in case I ever forget about this incident, remind us never to mouth off when we're outnumbered. It just isn't a good idea at all."
"Please don't joke about it, baby. You've been out for days, and Fury says you came close to being infected with something fatal to your other skin."
Taylor shuddered, and directed a question inward.
Hey. You okay, buddy?
Yes, Taylor. I'm alright. Just tired from trying to heal your injuries. You need to eat. Soon.
No problem there, but how in the heck did we survive that nightmare?
The others got careless. While they were trying to snap your spine, they threw us into a canister that had the symbiote killing toxin. I had to direct our movements, and I made a choice. I threw the canister, and ran for the door. I sealed the room on the way out, and pulled us out to the front door. I called for Fury, and relayed the situation. He came to get us, and sterilized the area.
Sterilized?
Wide beam microwave emitters. Everything within five hundred feet of that building is gone. The ground itself will no longer support life of any kind.
Taylor closed his eyes, sighing in a combination of relief and regret.
So Plague and the others are gone for good?
Nothing made it out of that lab, Taylor. On the way out of the room, I hit the panic button. The lab sealed up tight, and filled with fire. After thirty seconds of flame, the halon system triggered. Nothing living could withstand that. Not even a symbiote.
Fair enough. The idea of Plague getting loose gives me the shivers.
"Is there any chance I could get some food? I'm starved."
Kali's eyes grew shiny with tears, and she nodded before running off to find a doctor.