Spy: Finally got past this chapter, which was a major road bump for me. Some of you will be happy to know that Jazz is in this chapter. for like, five seconds. But... Phantom isn't...he's missing here. So, without further ado, here is the next chapter (y''all are going to keel me for this) (hides)

Once again, I apologize for not replying to reviews. Dial up internet sucks.

"We have to past her." Charles said, turning to his men. "The one in red. Squad one, charge her head on. Break past her, that's all we have to do!"

The squad pushed forward through the blackmasks, plowing through the masses with ruthless force. Charles enjoyed the feeling of being in the field again. Even though so much was at stake, he couldn't help but love the thrill. As he charged towards the target, he could almost picture his son, waiting for him in the hallway. He knew that the thought was foolish, but found that he didn't care. The huntress in red would fall easily, and then he could continue on…he could find Vlad…Phantom…his son.

And everything would be perfect.

The first of the squad reached the target and fired, missing as the girl ducked out of the way, retaliating with a few shots of her own. One of his men was struck in the chest. He went down, a gurgling shriek bubbling in his throat.

"We can do this!" Charles stubbornly told himself, reaching for his belt. He slipped a small, round grenade into his palm, lobbing it into a mass of blackmasks. There was a flash, and the group burst into flames. The fire licked at their bodies, burning away the masks concealing their faces.

"One less thing to worry about." He told himself, skirting through the orange flames. He plucked another grenade from his belt, and threw it straight at the huntress. It took her by surprise, and the fire licked at her body, distracting her, if nothing more.

"Go!" Charles cried, pointing toward the hallway. What remained of squad one ran from the main fight, trying to make it…

But the huntress wasn't finished.

She leapt from the flames, a small rod held in her fists. She pressed down a button on the side, and it extended into a staff, a small charged point forming at both ends. Before Charles could even act, the girl struck out at him. The sharp blade bit deep into his arm, and he cried out, automatically pulling down the trigger of his ectogun. The huntress dodged the attack, spinning the spear above her head, sinking the blades into the bodies of two unfortunate agents.

"That was meant for you." Charles told himself, staggering backwards. "She knows that you're the leader. She'll want to kill you first."

Not if he had any say in the matter.

Gray loved the sound of metal slicing through flesh. Two more whitesuits fell to her assault, their pretty, unblemished uniforms speckled with drops of red.

Red was a much nicer color than white. White was plain…white stood out. She preferred her red suit, the one that had been specially designed for her. She knew her suit better than she knew any person in the world. She knew that it was fireproof…unlike the foolish whitesuit leader.

She could clearly see the leader's features through the smoky glass of his faceplate. He was an old man…with yellow eyes. Eyes like Zimmers. The bastard. She knew that she had to target him, so he couldn't get any closer to Master…

Or Phantom… Phantom was hers to kill.

For an old man, the leader was still agile. But obviously not enough. Gray had managed to strike him in the arm, rendering it useless. The man's entire sleeve was stained red from his blood. The girl couldn't help but sneer behind her mask.

"By the time I'm done with you, Leader." She hissed at him, taking another swipe with her spear, "Your suit's going to be as red as mine."

The leader growled at her, clumsily reaching for his belt. Gray laughed, darting forward, swinging her leg out, striking him in the gut. He collapsed, groping blindly for his weapon.

The old man would fall, just like all of the others. It was inevitable. The girl drew her spear back, aiming the blood soaked tip at the leader's vulnerable chest. One lunge, and the leader would be history. The invasion would collapse, and those remaining would be murdered.

But the leader had other plans. Gray didn't even have time to react. The man drew a strange weapon from his belt, and twirled it around in the air for a moment, letting the three metal balls on the end hiss through the air. Then, he let go, the three projectiles bucking against the strings that pulled them together. As the weapon encircled the girl's leg, the spheres seemed to explode with charged energy, sharp metal barbs digging into her skin. Gray let out a shriek, trying to pull the thing away from her. She had to get it off. The energy pulsing through her body was hurting her. She couldn't think…she couldn't—

The leader staggered to his feet, drawing out another of the strange weapons.

A bola…She managed to tell herself through the pain. He skillfully twirled it around his finger, before lobbing it in her direction. Unable to think…to act…the weapon hit her head on, encircling her chest, the strings cutting sharply into her suit.

"Damnnit!" Gray cursed, feeling the charge run through her, drawing a curtain of darkness in its wake. She collapsed, falling to her knees…

The last thing she saw was the leader running down a hallway, leaving his men behind…

Sam found that she was in a large dark room with metal walls, charred black by some unknown force. Vlad smiled, still keeping his hand tight around her arm, his black claws poking her tender flesh. The girl could see that they were in some type of old laboratory. A small cot lay against one wall beside a rusted metal desk. An examination table was the centerpiece, rotting leather straps hanging over the side, their enormous buckles bent grotesquely out of shape. Monitors lined the walls, along with dusty cabinets filled with beakers and chemicals. What looked like a cylindrical containment chamber sat upright on one wall, various wires leading from it to an enormous super computer. With each breath, the girl could taste dust. Looking closer, she saw that everything was covered in a grimy layer of gray dirt, as if no one had disturbed it for a very long time.

"Welcome to Phantom's nursery." Vlad hissed, his free hand sweeping over the room. "This is where my weapon was created. He took his first steps here, ate his first meal, and earned his first punishment. This is where Phantom lived for the first year of his life."

"Nursery?" The girl asked, suddenly fearful. Nursery was not a word that she would have ever used to describe the lab. It looked cold and dangerous; nothing that a small child should ever have to live in…

But then again…Phantom…

"Zimmers stayed by his side the entire time." Vlad continued, smiling cruelly. "My little scientist had a connection to the…the host body. Daniel and he had spent some time together, and so he knew how to deal with the behavioral patterns that were… imposed on my creation."

"What?" Sam suddenly demanded, her eyes widening in shock. Vlad let out a cruel laugh, his claws digging further into her skin.

"You heard me, Little Mouse. Phantom's secret." He hissed, his voice oozing with sick pleasure. Sam glared at him, shocked and angry at the same time.

What was he talking about?

"Allow me to explain." Vlad sneered, leading the girl slowly around the room. "You are correct in assuming that the boy was once Madeline's son. Bravo." He clapped his hands mockingly before continuing. "Before, I told you that the spirit within Phantom was created without a mind. Which was entirely true. My original intention was to keep Daniel as a fully-functioning equal of mine…a protégé to take over my empire when I was gone.

But, alas, something went wrong. Only days after the implantation of the spirit entity, Daniel began to…forget. His mental capabilities began to rabidly decline. Zimmers ran test after test, trying to figure out what had gone wrong…and in the end, it was my fault. In creating the spirit that would give Daniel powers like my own, I had made a mistake. The entity took over Daniel's body, and began to develop, like a child. Instead of creating a mindless creature, I had created an infant who was using Daniel's body as a physical link to the world. All dreams of my perfect protégé had been crushed. All I had was a potential weapon."

"Why couldn't Phantom still be your protégé?" Sam snapped. "Was he not good enough?"

"He was a failure!" Vlad snarled, his claws cutting into the girl's skin, drawing blood. Sam let out a whimper, gritting her teeth in pain.

"Every time I looked at him, all I could see was my failure. Before the accident, I had Daniel worshipping the ground I walked on! He followed after me like a puppy. Then, all I had was a blank slate. Every time I saw that boy, I wanted to hurt him…to make him pay for taking away my perfect child. I turned Phantom into a weapon, because I couldn't throw such power away. That is the only reason he has been alive all of these years."

"So he had to suffer, because you made a mistake!?" Sam growled, struggling against her captor's cold embrace. "I know that Phantom is intelligent. I know that he can think, and feel. He's obviously smarter than you know, Vlad. If he really wanted to, he could kill you."

"Kill me?" Vlad laughed suddenly, his body shaking with mirth. "That hybrid cur? He may think that he can, but I assure you, Little Mouse, than the second I give the order, he will bow down before me. Phantom is mine. I am his master, and in the end, he will not be able to forget the power I have over him. Besides…"

The man smirked, leading the girl over to the cylindrical containment chamber that rested against one wall. He pushed a button on the side, his smile growing as the front panel opened wide. Sam gasped, as Vlad roughly shoved her through the opening. Her head hit the back of the container, and her senses reeled.

"If Phantom refuses to obey me, you will die." Vlad cried, closing the entrance. "I heard you urging him on. You are no longer of use to me, Manson. All you are still good for, is bait!"

"I-I'm sorry, Master!" Zimmers pleaded, covering his head with his hands. "I'm telling the truth, really…I am!"

Vlad glared down at his servant with blazing red eyes, his whip held tight in his black claws.

"How could this have happened?" The man demanded, grabbing the boy by the collar of his shirt.

"It…it had to be an accident." Zimmers whimpered, his yellow eyes gazing fearfully up at his master. "That's the only way…this could have happened."

The entire time, a small child watched from his spot in the corner, his soft, blue eyes hauntingly focused. Already, he knew that the older human…the one yelling…he was 'Master'. That was what the other human called him. The one who watched him. He vaguely recognized that human, though from where, he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember a lot of things…

"Then he is a failure!" Vlad snarled, throwing Zimmers to the ground. The boy groaned, unable to brace himself for the sharp sting that suddenly cut across his flesh. Vlad coiled his whip around his hand, kicking his fallen servant in the side.

"Do what you can with him." The man snarled. "I don't feel like dealing with it right now. The Phantom Project…is nothing more than a glorified weapon. See that you treat him as such."

"Of course, Master." Zimmers murmured as he pushed himself up. He took a few shallow breaths before turning his eyes to the small child sitting silently in the corner. The child wasn't Daniel…it couldn't be him. The child he had known was dead…replaced by…this…thing.

Now, maybe his job would be easier…

Jazz was huddled in the middle of the conference room, holding her legs tight to her chest. Outside, she could hear loud noises, but the walls muffled most of the sounds, leaving the girl oblivious as to what was going on around her. She simply stayed in one spot, nervously turning through the pages of an outdated newspaper, wondering what was happening…wondering if her mother was okay.

The white mask sat a little ways away, a constant reminder of what would happen to her if she disobeyed Vlad's orders. She felt like a dog at the end of a leash, willing to be blackmailed in order to speak to her mother

She felt dirty.

So much had happened too soon. Phantom had come into their lives, leaving a permanent mark on everyone he touched. To her family, Phantom had been an enemy, then a lost child who needed help. What was he now? Had he returned to Vlad? After everything, had he just gone back to the way he had been?

And what about her mother? Was she safe?

A loud shout managed to pierce the conference room's walls, and the girl jumped.

What was going on out there?

It seemed as if all she had were questions. Questions that would never be answered as long as she was Vlad's prisoner. As long as she was in the conference room, no one would ever find her…no one.

Charles walked softly through the dimly lit hallways, one hand gripping his wounded arm. For a moment, he regretted leaving his men behind, but something pushed him to move on. He had to get to Vlad. He had to kill him. To avenge the lives of all the GIW agents who lay dying out in the entryway. For all the ones slumped against walls, or sprawled out across the hard floor. He would kill Vlad for every wrong he had ever committed. Punish him for every life he had taken away.

No matter what the cost, the man would pay.

Charles' head suddenly whipped to the side, as a loud, grating sound brought him back to reality. It had come from an open door to his left. The man cautiously poked his head inside, trying to see the noise's source in the darkness.

Nothing.

Reaching inside, the man found a switch, and flicked it on, bringing to life lights that were much weaker than the ones in the hall. Still, Charles decided to venture further into the gloom, his good hand reaching towards the holster of his gun. A putrid smell assaulted the man's nostrils, and realization dawned on him of where he was …It was a morgue.

Charles stood still in shock for a moment, his eyes darting about the room. All he could see were rows upon rows of tall metal cabinets. The room seemed huge, with hundreds of slots for dead bodies to go.

The question was…how many were full?

Anger simmered below the man's skin as he found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from the morbid sight.

Then he heard the sound again.

It had to be one of the cabinets being opened. Charles walked further into the room, holding his other hand over his mouth and nose, taking small, shallow breaths. The noise sounded a third time, now right in front of him. Forcing his eyes to focus, the man saw a figure in a long white coat bent over one of the cabinets. Looking closer, he could see that it was a young man, with dark black hair.

"You." Charles snapped, his voice low and demanding. "Turn around."

The figure stiffened, mechanically buttoning the front of his coat shut. Charles, reached for his gun, pointing it at the youth's back.

"I was talking to you." He growled. "Look at me."

The young man slowly turned around, glaring at the intruder with startling yellow eyes.

Charles felt his breath catch in his throat, unbidden. How common were yellow eyes? Surely this man staring at dead bodies couldn't be his son. It wasn't possible.

But…maybe…

"What do you want?" The figure snapped.

It couldn't be him.

"I'm from the GIW. This place is under siege, and all conspirators are to be seized." Charles replied, barely managing to keep his firm tone. The youth panicked, taking a cautious step back.

Charles watched him, his mind registering the look of resigned horror on the stranger's face. But the youth wasn't fighting…wasn't trying to run, or call for help. He held his silence, his yellow eyes wide with fear.

Maybe…Maybe he could still be…

"Nathaniel Zimmers?" Charles asked, the name rolling strangely off of his tongue. The man stared straight ahead, watching the youth's expression for any hint of recognition.

The stranger's fiery eyes softened slightly…and he replied.

"Yes…That's my name."

The young man's tone was solemn, filled with a strange despair. His familiar eyes flicked upward, locking sights with his own.

"Who are you?" The stranger asked.

"Charles Zimmers." The old man choked. "I'm…I'm your father."

"Father?" The youth asked, his gaze turning to the floor.

Charles could feel himself smiling. He had found him. His son was alive. They could leave this place together.

But then Nathan's expression darkened.

"So you're finally here." He snarled, looking up, his eyes bloodshot. "Why couldn't you have tried harder?"

"Nathan…" Charles said, still clutching his weapon tight. "I'm here now."

"Do you think that matters?" Zimmers snapped. "I've lived here with a maniac for most of my life. It's too late!"

Charles stood his ground, watching as his son's eyes brimmed with tears.

"It was too late years ago..."

Nathan suddenly turned his back to the old man, kneeling on the ground next to the opened drawer. Charles slowly crept forward, trying to look at the dead body lying on the long metal tray. What was his son doing? Why was he staring at a...a dead body?

Charles leaned closer to the drawer, trying to make out the deseased human's features.

What he saw made his blood run cold.