I don't own Lab Rats. I do own this story. Enjoy.
* * * Chapter 7.3 * * *
"Freeze!"
He obeyed, halting and hoping that this freeze would only be figurative. He spun on his heel to face the speaker, and he couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up inside him.
Two children. They were two children, each with fists raised and scowls on their faces.
"Hey, don't laugh at us!" the smaller one said, his high-pitched voice eliciting more guffaws.
He studied the kids who must've been half his age. They looked to be in their young teens, if even that. His mirth subsided and he allowed sternness to take over. "Leave me alone, buddy. I've got places to go."
"You with the Army?" the larger and perhaps older kid said.
He shrugged. "What's it to you?"
The smaller kid raised his fists. "If you are, then you're our enemy!"
He couldn't help but laugh again. "Nah, I'm not with them." He scanned the kids. Definitely not Revisionary material. "I'm guessing I'm still your enemy, though."
The boy's fists got tighter. "'Visionary," he hissed.
"Bingo."
"Then we're definitely taking you prisoner!"
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to spin you off the map!" He whirled around like a tornado to prove his point.
The older man yawned, unimpressed. "Try me, kiddo."
"S-224, help me take him down!" the small kid said. They rushed their enemy, but he didn't so much as budge.
"S-225, I don't know why I listen to you!" the larger kid howled eventually. "We shouldn't have left the base! I knew we weren't ready!"
"Stop talking like that," S-225 hissed while letting his puny fists fly. "We've got him."
"No, you don't," their adversary said. "So, you kids are bionic?"
"What do you think?" S-224 said. "Although I'm not even sure right now. I can't pound you into a pulp!"
He leaned down and grabbed both kids by their collars. "That's 'cause I'm bionic too." He picked them up with ease, letting them swing between his fingers. He searched around for a good tree and hooked the backs of their shirts over the branches. He wiped his hands and stepped back, observing his handiwork.
"You'll pay for this!" S-225 screamed, flailing his stick-like arms around in a desperate attempt to free himself.
"Sure I will. Do either of you kids know the way to the closest town?"
"Sure thing," S-224 said as if he wasn't dangling from a tree limb. "Just head that way towards the mountains and take a right at the ten-foot snowdrift. Go past the frozen lake and through the trees, and there's this cute little town right on the ocean. I suggest you head downtown and check out a little souvenir shop called—"
"Shut up, S-224!" his companion hollered.
The oldest of the three straightened, thanked them curtly, and headed off on the route the boy had directed him towards, leaving Krane's juvenile lackeys to futilely scream for help.
Yes, you know those kids. I would think it's pretty obvious who they are.