Talk Is Cheap
The Ninja was stock still as its enemy turned to face it. The look on her face spoke of a different person behind the woman's eyes...or indeed a different thing. with no face of its own. However, there was no telling what the ninja itself thought.
Seras, and what little of her humanity remained, was beyond the point of caring now.
In place of her left arm was now an oily mist blacker than darkness itself, coalescing and churning like the contents of a lava lamp. The ninja was quick to determine it wasn't just for show.
That said, it was completely unprepared when the blob growing out of the stump of a shoulder lanced across the room and to the ninja's in the diaphragm. The ninja tried to deflect it with its sword, but all it got for its trouble was two half-sized battering rams of darkness hitting it in the chest and stomach simultaneously. The momentum propelled the ninja out the window and gave it little time to right itself and land in another crouch.
Seras did not pause. The vampire all but flew out of the window after the ninja and, without pausing, made another punch with her shadowy arm. This time the ninja didn't even have time to react as a battering ram of shadows caught it square in the face, dropping its sword as the supernatural femme fatale watched it fly. Her shadow arm seized the katana in midair and, in the same motion, slammed it into the snowy concrete halfway to its hilt, saving it for later.
Despite having gone completely berserk, Seras still understood that she had essentially been getting in lucky shots. She had to eliminate the ninja, and quickly, before it adapted to her methods.
While the unfortunate cyborg was still in midair, the vampire's shadow tendrils weaved towards his limbs. The ninja tried to continue his acrobatics to keep his limbs free, but his left leg was seized just before it reached the ground. It managed to land on its hands when Seras started pulling it back towards her, but attempted to 'wheelbarrow' on them, quite successfully too. However, Seras had become so focused on destroying her target before it destroyed her, that she didn't feel very impressed.
With a less than gentle pull, Seras brought the ninja into the air and watched, annoyed that he was able to use his hands to break his fall when she brought him back down to slam him into the ground. Seizing one arm did no good as a second swing showed him bouncing back with one hand alone...
No longer the mature and harmless Police Girl, Seras' frustration spurred her to smash the ninja, headfirst, into one of the transistors. Once, twice, three times, she could feel each impact as the metal man left bigger and bigger indentations in the machinery.
The sixth smash found the ninja momentarily stuck in his position, and a surge of several thousand watts forced her to let go.
However, the ear-piercing, blood-curdling scream of pain brought her back to reality as the ninja took the brunt of the electrocution. His own suit's power fluctuated at this disturbance, and the power surge flowed into the system...
Even though the power to the Heliport and Tank Hangar was still available after that, the locals would have to make some drastic revisions for their plans.
The once silent ninja's anguished screams wiped the red out of Seras' vision. Instead of homicidal rage, horror swept through the Police Girl's mind. The ninja's screams silenced as it pulled itself free from the beaten transistor and collapsed to its knees, less graceful than it had originally showed itself.
Then, as if the day weren't already full of surprises, the ninja did the last thing Seras had been expecting...
It spoke...
"No...no...no..." it half-snarled, half-whispered in a raspy voice. It...he?...sounded like the 'shock therapy' he had received had only been piled onto an already festering, wearying pain, but what, Seras could not fathom. "It's...it's slipping away again!"
Despite the fact that the ninja had not exactly been friendly to her, Seras took a hesitant step forward. "Please, are you okay?" It was a stupid question and she knew it, the...'man?' or whatever it was, had just been given (by her no less) a several-hundred kilowatt shock to the system. Of course he wasn't 'okay'. "What's wrong?"
"I..." the ninja gave no indication of whether he heard her as he grabbed his head like it was going to explode. "I can't lose myself now...he...he...isn't here yet!"
"He?" Seras couldn't begin to decipher the mystery man's rambling. "Who? Why are you here? What's happening to you?!"
Seras' answer was the sight of the ninja pounding its head into the concrete, one slam after another, as if one pain would relieve another. She cringed with each sickening slam as a spider web of cracks formed in the ground. She was amazed the man's brains hadn't been reduced to mush by now (though considering his erratic behavior, she wasn't exactly certain that hadn't already happened).
Finally, the ninja's self-torment ceased and no sooner did it stop slamming its head into the ground than it did slowly rise to its feet. It raised its head, staring blankly at its opponent as she readied another round.
As luck would have it, it proved unnecessary for Seras, after a short pause, the ninja vanished, leapt towards its sword, and she watched as the invisible man effortlessly plucked the blade out of the ground, watching it leap away and disappear.
Seras slumped in relief as her nemesis fled. The black blob growing out of her shoulder retracted and switched from black to a healthy whitish-pink, and the bloodstains on her uniform began to sink back into the wounds they once trickled from before they closed. She would probably have to feed soon, but she could put it off for a while.
"...Have reached Relay Station C, beginning sweep operations" a voice forced Seras' head to jerk up. Looking through the darkness, she could see the form of eight new soldiers passing by the fence. They were much more heavily armed and armored, carrying flack vests, two of their number wielded shotguns for close encounters while half the unit carried transparent riot shields with pistols in their free hands.
Seras was not in the mood to greet them and, still not knowing where she was, she thought it would be best for the international community if a British woman in a uniform wasn't found among the corpses of three American servicemen.
She made a break for the power station the ninja had tossed her to. Leaping back through the broken window (instead of using the door like a normal person), Seras swung her head around in search of a place to hide, but the small one-room building was slim pickings.
WhatamIgonnado? WhatamIgonnado? WhatamIgonnado? The panicked woman wondered frantically. She was a vampire and yet the circumstances made her feel helpless. Where the hell was she going to hide?
Use the Box, Seras.
Seras jumped at the hushed, whispered voice, looking for its source until her gaze fell onto a neatly stacked pile of cardboard boxes on the floor across from the entrance.
"Master" She asked uncertainly, "is that you?"
The Box will protect you, Seras. The mysterious whisper answered.
Seras blinked, visibly confused, she didn't hear or smell anything other than the corpse on the floor.
The Box is life. The Box will never hurt you.
"I..." Seras said a little more quietly. "...feel strangely compelled to get inside the box."
The Box loves you Seras. The Box is safety.
Seras felt like something was tugging at her will, something strong, overwhelming, yet gentle and warm. The small corrugated container seemed more inviting than anything of its kind before.
The Box is peace, the Box is salvation...the Box will make your dreams come true. The words were inviting, seductive even, but Seras' unexpected reverie was cut short.
"Clear!" A soldier's voice yelled from outside. The crunching of footsteps in shallow snow further interrupted whatever spell she had been under.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Seras wondered what just happened. Ugh, what the hell was I thinking, get into a box? What idiot would think of that?
As fortune would have it, looking over her shoulder revealed a rather large locker, big enough to hide her. There was no lock on it so she could get inside quickly. She only hoped no one would think to have a look inside.
As the door to the locker slammed, the box continued to sit in the corner, untouched and undisturbed.
..........This one is strong.
Integra sat in the carriage as her great-grandfather drove it back into town. Across from the knight was the defeated Count who was destined to become her servant... and greatest weapon.
Abraham had wanted to kill the vampire. In fact, he'd insisted on it; but as stubborn as Mr. Helsing was, he still couldn't hold a candle to his future great-granddaughter. In the end, she had won the argument, though her ancestor still wasn't completely sure how that had happened.
The ancient vampire, who was sitting across from the time traveling knight, understood the how. There was just something about the long haired, beautiful woman that did not merely warrant respect, it commanded it. The men who had been chasing him were brave, perhaps even fearless; but they lacked that quality, that almost... regal authority. No, Count Dracula had known from the moment the blonde woman stood over him, with her sword drawn, that the other 'hunters' would end up bowing to her will.
Yes, Dracula knew the how. It was the why that threw him for a loop. And so, the vampire sat, wrapped in silver chains and stared at the beautiful woman who had caused his downfall and then saved his life.
She just sat there, ever alert yet not the slightest bit jumpy. She kept her eyes on him at all times, but was smart enough to avoid direct eye contact. Her gaze was like steel and her features, fine porcelain. The ancient vampire found himself musing that if he were God and had the power to sculpt the ideal woman, this would've been his Eve. "Flawless."
Integra did not take her eyes off of the vampire, nor did she show her surprise that he had finally broken the silence between them. Instead she covered it up with a subtle curling of the lip. "So, you can speak, vampire."
"Of course, I can speak." Dracula sounded almost insulted. Surely this woman, who knew so much about vampires, must've known they could talk.
"Then tell me, why have you been so quiet?"
"I've just lost my castle, my servants, my brides… everything! I think I'm entitled to be a little quiet, don't you?"
"Hardly. Sulking doesn't suit you." Integra's lip curled into a more pronounced grin. "And I don't think that's what you were doing. How about telling me the truth?"
"You first." Dracula paused for a moment, trying to decide if it was really worth the blow to his pride to ask the question that had been haunting him. It was. "Why did you spare me?" The vampire needed an answer. He had always been a curious one, and this woman was the first in centuries to truly baffle him. She was a riddle, one that he desperately wanted to solve.
Integra's smile morphed into a smirk. "So, that's what's been bugging you?" She asked coyly. The vampire huffed, and the knight's expression shifted back to her previous hard stare. After a moment she continued, "I believe you are worth more alive."
So, that was it? "I am to be studied, poked and prodded to satisfy your curiosity?" It was not a fate the vampire looked forward to. Being treated like a lab rat would be demeaning, and the only thing he had left was his pride.
"Yes." Integra began. "That is likely. You will be poked, prodded, tested and experimented on." The knight paused for a moment and studied her future pet's reaction before continuing in a lower tone. "But it will not be done to satisfy curiosity, at least, not in the long run."
Again the knight paused wondering if it was wise to continue. Telling her future servant what was going to happen could pollute the timeline. Of course, her mere presence did that, and her ancestor never would of beaten Dracula without her help. Maybe she was always meant to come back, to set in motion the events that would shape her own life. "You will be turned into the ultimate weapon. I'm sure the experiments will hurt; but, eventually, they will make you all but invincible."
Now the vampire was truly confused. What right thinking human would want to make him more powerful? "Why?"
Integra's smirk returned. "Where I come from, there is a very old sang. 'Send a thief to catch a thief.'"
"You hope to use me to defeat other vampires? To tame me like a dog?!" Dracula was nearly incredulous. "You are a fool." He growled. It was obvious from the woman's expression that she did not like being called that. And strangely, the vampire's tone changed. His voice grew deeper and sounded rather solemn. "Give me more power, and I will only use it to destroy you."
"Somehow, I doubt that." As soon as the sentence escaped Integra's mouth, the vampire lunged at her. But his chains held fast, and his fangs came up a few inches short of the blonde's skin. Integra still didn't blink. Instead she sounded a bit put out. "What, am I suppose to be scared? We both knew you'd come up short. What are you trying to prove?"
Who was this woman, who talked to him without any fear, who didn't so much as flinch when he lunged at her. "Who are you?"
"I am Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing." The woman replied with just a hint of superiority. "And one day, vampire, you will call me 'Master'."
Booting up the system was a simple, though slightly time consuming task for Revolver Ocelot. It would largely boil down to personal judgment to determine just the right power setting to inflict maximum pain without risking death. Fortunately, the man had decades of experience as an interrogator for the KGB and FOXHOUND, and while this device was fairly new, and he had yet to use it himself, he felt like he had already mastered the machine.
...He'd certainly have to if he wanted to squeeze REX's detonation code from the aging pencil neck strapped into the torture bed behind him.
"Remember not to take this too personally," Ocelot growled as he finished preparing the rack, "are you ready?"
"I've been trained to resist torture more inventive than this," the elderly black man strapped in to the bed behind him replied. He then gave a weak smile. "I'll be sure to 'break' when you're done."
Ocelot grinned and nodded knowingly, they'd both keep the show up for the cameras. They had already gone over this, and personally knowing one of the two VIP hostages would make Liquid's revolution that much easier...
20 minutes earlier
The aging Donald Anderson, Chief Executive of the Defense Advanced Research Project Agency (DARPA), had spent the last 18 hours stuffed into the 10x10 concrete prison cell with only a bed and a toilet to sit on. The floor was cracked and dank and the walls were filthy, covered in a bland gray paint job that had been fading for years.
Now the room seemed even smaller with an old 'friend' standing over him. The metal door that separated them from human contact was the only barrier between prying eyes and ears and their conversation.
"So you've come here to gloat, ADAM?" The prisoner mumbled.
"I'm not sure. I'd rather hear why you think I would first." The torture master asked.
"Well for starters, Zero and I thought we had you figured out," Anderson replied, shaking his head. "EVA was a given, but we didn't think you were playing us for Big Boss."
"Go on," Ocelot prompted. The DARPA Chief's answer was accurate, but it wasn't the one he was waiting for.
"All right, I suppose there's no use beating around the bush," his raspy baritone rose with grudging defeat and frustration. "Zero done fucked up, and I helped him do it." The man's head lowered to face the floor. "JD exceeded its operational parameters, and the effect has spread to the Proxy A.I.s too."
"So JD, TJ, and AL are going to pull a SkyNet on us?" Ocelot said, only the barest whisper of concern in his voice.
"No..." the Chief corrected. "not just them...they've gone and arranged the design of the other two A.I.s ahead of schedule. TR is set to go online first day of July," he said grimly "and GW is already on the drawing board."
"And Zero never saw this coming?" Ocelot probed again. He almost sounded angry, an emotion the cowboy rarely expressed.
"If he did, we can't exactly ask him," Anderson shook his head. "He's a vegetable now."
There was a silence between the two old men as the information exchanged sank in.
"Regardless, you still have a chance to redeem yourself." The Russian said grimly.
"Pfft, what can I do? I don't know where they kept the corpse. That was Para-Medic's department, and she's six feet under!"
"We'll let the government worry about that, we need something to insure they fork it over when Liquid makes his demands."
"You mean...?" Anderson trailed off as it dawned on him just what Ocelot wanted.
"We need yours and Baker's detonation codes," the cowboy rasped. "We can't hope to dismantle The System now, so if you help us with our 'revolution,' you can save the world from JD's control."
"And if you fail?" Anderson asked, not certain yet what to think of Ocelot's offer.
"Don't worry, there's the 'Enfant Terrible' you have in the White House. If Liquid fails, he's still got the resources to make up for it. Either way, the Patriots will think we're still on their side until it's too late."
The DARPA Chief bowed his head again, his expression blank from deep thought. If Liquid was anything like his 'father,' then it could mean the end of the world as they knew it...
...But if the artificial 'Patriots' Zero had created kept evolving as they were now, America, and eventually, the world, would have no future. The Crusade to carry on The Boss' will would have amounted to nothing.
"I'll put on a show for you," the Chief finally replied. "It would look awfully suspicious if I just shouted the codes to the heavens now, wouldn't it?"
Ocelot glared for a moment, scrutinizing the prisoner with a barely readable frown...which quickly turned into a smug smirk.
"So you'll turn away from the 'Dark Side' then?"
"Zero doomed us all," Anderson answered grimly. "There's not much of 'my' side left."
"Well, in any case, I'm not letting Liquid know who our allegiances used to be with, not yet. We'll wait after the launch to give him the lowdown."
"Good thinking," the Chief replied, a genuine grin finally forming on his face. "Otherwise I'd have outed you to your FOXHOUND buddies if you even thought of killing me."
To his surprise, a countenance of panic crossed Ocelot's face.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Ocelot said none too quietly, the fear on his face filtering through his voice as well. "Look, Big Boss and I er, 'wrestled' a lot back in Operation: Snake Eater," he said unusually defensively, "sure there was a lot of grabbing, but we were on different sides at the time so there wasn't anything else going on about that, no siree! And since we started the Patriots I might have made a little shrine to him in my closet but..." he trailed off, starting to think over the meaning behind the DARPA Chief's words. "...But..."
The jail cell was positively silent. The DARPA Chief's face twisted into confusion and tilted as, for the first time in his life, he saw a look of embarrassment on the gunman's face.
"When you said 'outed'...?" Ocelot began.
"...as one of the Patriots' founding fathers," Anderson corrected.
"Yeah..." Ocelot said sheepishly "...I knew that."
That episode of embarrassment aside, Ocelot finally pressed the switch and paused for the several seconds long interval between the torture rack warming up and the soothing sounds of his victim's screams to come.
You've made the right choice...Sigint.
As Alucard made his way through the 'music festival', he found himself wanting to cut off his ears and eat them. Every song was some gooey saccharine... thing, about love and peace. Another song came on, and Alucard wanted to gag... or fly up onto the stage, slit the singers' throats and drink their blood. Wouldn't that teach these peace loving freaks something about the true nature of the universe? Alucard chuckled. It was a loud, dark, psychotic chuckle, one that drew the attention of everyone around him.
"Man, that's disturbing." One hippie commented.
Alucard just grinned at him. "You think that's disturbing?" Alucard's hand was halfway to his gun, before the vampire remembered that if he killed anyone else, before finding Father Time, the timeline could get even more messed up. Alucard growled, but then a thought jumped into his head. Well, if I can't kill him... I'll just make him wish he were dead. "Look into my eyes. Deep, deep into my eyes." The ancient vampire commanded; and in less time than it takes to tell, he had the hippie completely in his power. "Now you will do anything I command."
"I will do anything you command."
Alucard grinned and pointed. "You see that pond over there? I want you to jump into it... naked."
"I hear and obey." The hippie replied then removed his clothing, ran to the pond and jumped into it.
Alucard broke out into a chuckle but was quickly silenced as he heard one of the other nearby hippies exclaim, "Look at Wild Flower, Man. He's like totally... wild, Man. Jumping in the pond with out his clothes, Man."
"I know, Man. Looks like fun, Man."
"Yeah!" And with that the whole pack of hippies stripped and ran for the pond. Alucard just pinched the brim of his nose and shook his head. "I will never understand humans." Then the vampire turned away to continue his search.
A few minutes later another 'band' came on. Alucard hoped that would signal a change in the music; but alas, this band was just as obsessed with love and peace as the last one. Alucard sighed. I lived through the sixties once. Granted the time was spent in England, but still... I know they produced, at least, a couple of good songs. Why can't they play something that I've got on record?
Nineteen sixty-nine, Johnny Cash and Elvis Presley are both still alive. Why can't one of them come up and play... something. Preferably something with some violence and gun play! Something like... like Delia's Gone. Now there was a song I could get into. And so, in an effort to drown out the 'music' that was coming from the stage as possible, the ancient vampire began to sing as he walked. "Delia. Oh, Delia. Delia all my life. If I hadn't have shot poor Delia, I'd have had her for my wife. Delia's gone, one more round. Delia's gone."
He was still singing, "First time I shot her, I shot her in the side. Hard to watch her suffer, but with the second shot she died. Delia's gone, one more round. Delia's gone." When one of the people he was passing by saw fit to 'comment' on his taste in music.
"Hey, Man! What you singing? Death and shooting, that's not what the sixties are all about, Man. This is the era of peace and love."
Alucard retorted. "What are you talking about?! Cash first recorded that song in nineteen sixty-two. It's a sixties' song!"
"Yeah, true; but that song is not typical of this time period. Johnny Cash was always a bit of a rebel."
"You a fan of the 'Man in Black'?"
"A casual fan, at best. But you've got to respect the man's work. His songs did manage to connect with new listeners for over half a century."
Alucard raised one eyebrow. "Half a century, huh?"
At this question, the hippie became rather flustered. "Er. I mean, they will manage to connect with new listeners for over a quarter of a century."
"Oh, they will, will they." Alucard smirked.
"Ah, no. I-I mean I think they will. Who can say?" The hippie let out a sheepish laugh. "Ah, I best get going." The 'hippie' turned around and started to walk away. "I've got a friend who's..."
But the 'hippie' was interrupted. As the vampire shadow shifted in front of him. "You're going nowhere, Father Time. You've got a mess to clean up."
"You've been searching for me, haven't you?" Alucard nodded. The 'hippie' continued, "Let me guess, Death sent you here?" The 'hippie' shook his head. "Should've never told the him where I was vacationing. Should've known he'd find a way to ruin my good time. Just cause he can't get a vacation, he's intent on spoiling everyone else's." The 'hippie' sighed and then his appearance began to change. His beard grew long and white. His head went bald, and he seemed to age sixty years in a matter of seconds. "Alright, alright. I'll go straighten things out." Then the 'old man's' lip curled. "But while I'm doing that, I want you to pick up a few things for me. I'm having a 'get together' with some friends later and I need the right... uh, 'party favors'."
"What do I look like, some sort of delivery guy? Get your own party favors." The vampire growled.
"No, not a delivery guy; but you are the one who interrupted my vacation... and I'm betting you're also the one who caused the problem in the first place. So, the least you can do is grab the things on my list, since I've got to go fix your mess." Father Time paused.
"Oh, no. The 'least I can do' is nothing at all." Alucard flashed Father Time a toothy grin.
But, the spirit just chuckled. "That kind of stuff might intimidate a human, but it's not going to work on me. Now either you get the stuff on my list or..." The spirit's voice took on an ominous tone as he continued, "I'll send you to the end of time."
The spirit let loose an evil laugh, and Alucard groaned. "Oh, just give me the stupid list."
The spirit's megalomaniac cackling instantly vanished, and his voice returned to normal. "Oh... good." Father time reached into his pocket, pulled out a list and handed it to the vampire. "Here you go."
Alucard begrudgingly seized the list and looked it over. Then his face morphed into an expression of confusion. "Jet? Med X? Psycho? What the... Where am I suppose to find this stuff?"
Father Time smiled coyly. "I'm glad you asked." Then the spirit waved his hand and Alucard found himself, seemingly, all alone and standing in the middle of some ruined city. "What the... Great, now where am I?"
Father Time's disembodied voice manifested itself just long enough to answer the No-Life King's question. "Twenty-two hundred and seventy-seven, alternate timeline. Only place and time to get the stuff on my list. You round it all up and come back here. Then I'll take you home."
"Now, just wait a minute..."
"Sorry, gotta go fix your mess. Bye bye."
"Had enough yet...?" Ocelot asked his victim rhetorically. The DARPA Chief was breathing heavily after the second round of electrocution. The man once known as "Sigint" was tougher than his age let on, however, and Ocelot knew he'd survive the third round. Without hesitating, he reactivated the machine. "Didn't think so..."
It proved to be a costly mistake, for on the surface, at that same moment, Seras had slammed the ninja into the power relay for that exact floor. Not a second after hitting the activation button, the warning light on the console indicated a power surge.
Despite his exhaustion, the Chief's screams were louder than ever before. The arcs of electricity coursing through his body brighter and more vibrant, and Ocelot could have sworn smoke and sparks were rising from his wrists and pant legs where the metal straps kept him secured to the bed.
Looking back at the readout for the power output revealed the machine was giving the hostage triple the charge he had set it for.
Ocelot had no time to think. Running for the console, he frantically tried to abort the torture session only to be rewarded with a painful shock that ran up the length of his arm. A sucking hiss followed to ignore the numbness it left and the torture expert slammed his fist down on the stop button before the machines overloaded.
The screams and the roar of his torture rack silenced.
Slumping to the floor and resting against the machine's control panel, Ocelot tried to sooth the fleeting numbness in his right arm, his shooting arm, his favorite arm. The gunman hissed before looking up to see his handiwork.
Donald Anderson was no longer being electrocuted, but the smell of burnt flesh and hair assaulted his nose. He had smelled worse in his experience, and relished it to boot, but considering the circumstances; Ocelot's heart began to race.
The Chief was most certainly not breathing.
So much for the revolution could not even begin to describe Ocelot's line of thinking in light of this new development. Anderson had not divulged his activation code for the new weapon, and without it, there was nothing to threaten the Washington with. Big Boss' dreams were derailed before they began, and his son would nail the old Russian's balls to a wall for it.
But Ocelot was not known for letting even the most crippling flaws in any future plans stop him. Having been raised by the Philosophers' from birth to be the ultimate agent, such scheming was mere child's play for the gunslinger. He had already run through dozens of excuses that would allow him to save face with Liquid, Solidus, and Zero's damnable A.I. network should the need arise, but he wasn't going to let this plan to depose the Patriots get botched before it started.
Unfortunately, he had to put one of those excuses to the test sooner than he had hoped as two trench-coated men entered the room. He instantly recognized the masked form of his most hated "co-worker," Psycho Mantis, and trailing behind him was their youthful and sour-faced Commander.
Without a word exchanged between any of the three, they lined up in front of the DARPA Chief's corpse, giving it a disapproving view. It gave Ocelot just a little more time to come up with excuses, but not much. There was no telling when the Commander's hair-trigger temper would snap, and while Mantis' mind-reading powers were no match for Ocelot's anti-telepathy nanomachines, it didn't make Ocelot fireproof.
Regrettably, it was that same technology that prevented Mantis from simply divining the code from the corpse strapped to the torture bed, hence the need to torture him in the first place.
Ocelot looked sheepishly at the other two and weakly said, "Er...I'm going to check his pulse."
Carefully inching towards the Chief's body, Ocelot briefly examined it before reaching out with his right arm. Slowly extending his index and middle fingers, the gunman gingerly reached for his victim's neck...
...and was rewarded with a painful zap.
Ocelot jumped back, waving his still pointing hand wildly as if that would somehow relieve the pain. He tried to salvage his dignity by holding his momentarily numb hand at his side Just in time for his unimpressed superior to blow a fuse.
"You fool..." the FOXHOUND leader sneered. "You killed him!"
"I'm sorry sir," Ocelot answered, not sounding anything like what he claimed to be. At least his superior knew it was an accident.
"His mental shielding was very strong," Mantis reminded. "I could not dive into his mind."
"Now we'll never get that detonation code!" The soldier looked like he was about to 'detonate' himself.
However, after a mere second of deep thought, Mantis had a good idea.
"Boss..." Mantis hissed. "...I have a good idea."
The two FOXHOUND agents turned to look at their gas-masked comrade, waiting expectantly...
"...Are you going to tell me what it is?" The Commander asked.
"Call in Raven, Wolf, and Octopus and tell them to bring snacks..." Mantis finally spoke. "...This could take a while."
(Well, we both hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please Review and let us know what you thought. Thanks.
Have a good day, and God bless.
Metropolis Kid and Crow T R0bot.)