Chapter 9: The Coming Summer

It's not every day you get ordered to exterminate a batch of recruits.

The Linaumer Sect of the Anti-AAHW was assigned to infiltrate a small recruitment center in South Nevada. The assignment was subcontracted to the nearest inferior, until it got stuck with the late, great Hank J. Wimbleton, formerly known as Henry Jenning Wimblesky. Simple stuff; go in at dark and go through the back door. Take care of all opposition.

The drive through the desert wasn't much to write about. However, the outpost did have a black and red banner with the word "enlightened" written on the center. The sight gave Henry a slight chuckle as he creeped through the back.

The first sound he could hear was that of grunting and metallic clanging. Like little bullets in metal boxes being dropped without any caution whatsoever. It is fortunate the back entrance doesn't even have a door to open and alert the patrons.

Henry spots an Agent overseeing a few Grunts loading up a van with rifles and ammunition. With a pull of his M1911's trigger, the Agent falls, blood pooling around his skull. The three Grunts drop everything they held, screaming and looking frantically at each other. Like moving practice dummies, Henry calmly fires a round into each of their heads. One by one, they fall without any last words.

In silence, Henry approaches the one room left. The gunshots from the quick fight before could be heard miles away. Makes you wonder how loud they were for the recruits.

Approaching the entranceway, Henry notes there's no knob or handle. He looks to the left and sees a button. One button-press later, the door slides upward, leaving Henry staring at where it went for a few seconds. After blinking back into focus, he faces the twelve recruits in front of him.

Henry shakes his head at the sight. The recruits were huddled to the corner of the room.

Not a single one over the age of thirteen.

The younger ones hide behind the taller. They all stare at him with pale faces and trembling hands. Letting out a sigh, Henry puts his pistol back in its holster and clips it shut. A migraine, as sharp as a needle, pierces him from the back of his head.

REMEMBER WHAT IS AT STAKE IF YOU FAIL

Henry looks down and wipes some of the blood off his face. He turns back to the children and unsheathes his sword.

The door behind him closes.

Electronic heartbeats come to Henry's senses as he lies in his hospital bed. The uncomfortably sterile air invades his nostrils. Ceiling lights immediately blind him as he opens his eyes. White floods his pupils, as if he sees Heaven right in front of him. Or at least, a cloud he can travel through, not worrying about the world beneath him.

Henry reaches up and rubs at his eyes, maintaining focus on his bed.. The sheets give only a dull blue, nothing to really stare at. He turns to his left and sees Hank asleep in his chair. The calmest he can ever be seen—head tilted over the front and staring into his own chest.

Colors that do not belong in the room catch the corner of Henry's eye, prompting him to turn to his left. A vase of roses sits on the table next to him. He reaches out and feels one of the petals. It falls from the stem, between his forefinger and middle finger, and onto the metal that composes the table.

Just like Victoria... There has to be something big going on. I just can't figure what it will be this time.

Hank starts groaning while stretching. As Hank lifts his head, Henry closes his eyes and pretends to still be asleep. Both eyes now open, Hank sees the hospital bed Henry's in.

Not much movement. Probably still in a coma.

Hank begins to rub at his eyes, then the rest of his face while he leans closer to the bed. Only a moment later, he watches Henry open his eyes.

Hank nods. "Rise and shine, princess. You enjoy your nap?"

Henry rubs at his entire face. "How long've I been out?"

"Two weeks."

Henry turns to his twin. "Well, that means there's some trouble a brewin'."

Hank straightens his back. "What makes you say that?"

Henry sits up at his bed. "I had a bad dream. Last time I had it, I lost a good friend."

"What happened?"

"She turned out to not be the person I thought she was."

The entrance door flings open.

"Hey, look who's awake!" Deimos shouts as he takes a seat next to the bed.

Sanford stands next to Deimos and rests his hands on his hips. "Good to see you're getting better."

Henry takes a moment to look at all three of them. "Is there a reason y'all're being nice to me now?"

Deimos tilts his head. "You don't remember what happened before you got into a coma?"

Henry blinks. "I remember crashing into Hank's house with a motorcycle."

Sanford gives a slight nod. "Yeah, and you helped him protect his family in the process."

Hank leans to Henry. "It turns out you can do some good after all."

"Good to know." Henry relaxes back into bed. "For a second there, I thought I was having another nightmare."

The door opens again. In comes two nurses and a tall man—even taller than Hank or Henry—wearing an Agent's uniform.

The tall man approaches the four. "Hello, I'm Agent Hanssen. I've been assigned to watch over Henry for the time being."

Hank looks up at Hanssen. "We appreciate the help, but I think us three being here is more than enough."

"I think you misunderstand." Hanssen clears his throat. "You three are no longer needed to watch over him."

Hank narrows his eyes. "And why's that?"

"Mainly because this is now an Operative's assignment. And you three all retired. You can still visit him later on. But for now, visiting hours are over."

"Who's orders?" Sanford asks.

"Head of the division."

"Head of the division?" Deimos scratches his head. "That's kinda weird for them to do this on such short notice. Did they already forget about us or what?"

"Times change. You three have served your purpose, but you are not necessary here." Hanssen crosses his arms. "If you doubt me, just ask. Or re-enlist."

"Hey!" Deimos bolts out of his seat. "Whatcha tryin' to imply there, bub-?!"

"All right, fine." Hank places a hand in front of Deimos as he gets up. "Best of luck."

Sanford and Deimos watch with surprised looks as Hank heads out. They follow suit; only Agent Hanssen and the physicians remain.

"So I finally get to meet the one causing all the ruckus." Agent Hanssen approaches the hospital bed. "Let's get comfortable, shall we? We don't have much time, after all."

Behind Hank, Sanford, and Deimos, the clear glass door to the West Wing Hospital slides itself shut. They each begin walking in the dark corridor, the only source of illumination that can guide them to their destination is a couple of ceiling lamps that hang on by metal cords.

"What the Hell was that, Hank?" Deimos asks.

"I'm just as pissed as you are, all right?" Hank stomps to the west exit of the hall.

"What made you not want to confront Hanssen?" Sanford asks as he and Deimos start following Hank.

Hank stops his footsteps. "Because Hanssen isn't making any Goddamn sense. Deimos, you already brought up that the Head of the Division would've told us about him taking over in helping Henry."

"Well yeah, there's that."

"Not to mention that he'd have to be very ballsy, plain stupid, or is really up to something if he wanted to make sure we three aren't involved in the process," Sanford comments.

"That's right." Hank nods. "And now, we have to figure out what's going on here. For all we know, it's just politics we've been out of the loop from, thanks to our years of absence."

"You know." Deimos strokes his chin. "That's actually a pretty good point."

"By the way," Sanford starts, "Does anybody remember where the office is for the head of the West Division?"

Hank stops at his tracks. "You know, it's been a while."

"Oh, for crying out loud." Deimos turns to the exit and looks at a map that is bolted beside the door frame. "It's up a couple of flights of stairs and head north until you spot a huge doorway labeled, 'HEAD OF WEST DIVISION.'"

Hank looks at the map. "Right."

Peace at last.

Darius leans back on his chair and wipes the slate that is on his desk.

Head of Eastern Division.

He rests his hands on the back of his head as the door in front of him closes and the Operative complaining to him is finally gone. With closed eyes, he can ignore the white walls and ceiling lights flashing in bright yellow. Breathing in the dusty air of his office, the big man lets out a sigh.

All in a moment, the few seconds of peace and tranquility are robbed as the door slams open. Opening his eyes, he sees none other than Hank, Sanford, and Deimos.

Darrius' eyes widen to the man in front of him. "H-Hank? It's been a decade since I last saw you! I thou-"

Hank raises a hand. "We can catch up later."

"Wh-what brings you three here?" Darius asks as he almost falls off his chair.

Hank stands in front of the desk. "We would like to know why you wanted us to not be involved with Henry."

Darius blinks the statement in. "I didn't give any order."

Deimos gets beside Hank. "Do you know anything about an Agent Hanssen?"

"Hang on," Darius says as he looks to his terminal and goes over the list of workers under his wing. "There doesn't seem to be an Agent Hanssen under my command."

Hank bolts for the door. "Call some Operatives, there might be a problem in the medical bay."

Deimos and Sanford follow suit.

Marching footsteps catches Hanssen's ears as he turns away from Henry. Before he knows it, Hank, Sanford, and Deimos, along with a few extra Operatives and Head of East Division Darius are all charging at him. They all stop once they realize nothing's happened yet.

Hanssen straightens his suit. "Is there something you need?"

Hank points to the Agent. "Who are you? And how did you infiltrate Antithesis?"

Hanssen tilts his head. "What?"

Darius puts an arm in front of Hank. "I'll take it from here. It has come to my attention that you are supposed to be under my command, however, neither your name nor file was given to me."

"That's because I was just transferred from the South Division."

"Maintenance?" Darius asks.

"Yeah, the head honcho there sent you an email about it."

"I didn't receive it."

"You should check again before you embarrass yourself." Hanssen pauses as he turns to Hank. "This is the exact reason why I've been stationed to replace you. You're so paranoid you can't trust anybody except yourself."

Hank is ready to pounce onto the Agent. "You son of a bitch!"

Darius, the other Operatives, Sanford, and Deimos all hold Hank back as he tries his absolute damnedest to reach for Hanssen.

"I will find out how to get rid of you. Mark my words." Hank says as he gets dragged outside by everybody.

Hanssen watches as the group of almost attackers try to make sure Hank is outside the room. Never has this agent seen a veteran of Antithesis become so erratic. He turns back to Henry who seems to have a strange blank expression on his face. The kind an eavesdropper would have is he knew he was hidden.

Hanssen smiles. "Hard to believe you're related to that guy."

Henry groans in response.

Hanssen pats Henry's shoulder. "It's all right, I'm sure you'll be fine once your medicine wears off… Speaking of which."

The Agent pauses as he readies a syringe with some kind of clear liquid inside it.

"Time for your second dose."

Some time later

Fans scattered here and there run at a steady hum that fill the otherwise quiet prison office. They help cool Hank off, albeit barely.

The jailor readies his badge as he is about to leave the office with him. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to come here, Hank."

Hank crosses his arms. "And why not?"

They both enter a further the venture, the more the lights start to flicker. One by one, they become enveloped by the distorted darkness.

"Well, with everything going on..."

"What exactly happened?"

"...There was your twin."

Hank rolls his eyes. "I doubt talking to Dan would really make that much of a mess."

"And you're sure you want to be alone with him?"

"It's the only way he'll talk the most."

"Suit yourself." The jailor stands aside as the door to Dan's cell comes into view. "I suppose you know him best."

After a few footsteps, Hank could hear dripping coming from inside the cell. No telling what kind of filth would be waiting to greet him once that door is open. The door opens with a steady grating creak. A man can be seen lying on his cot, alone.

"I wasn't expecting any visitors. How are you, Hank." The man sits up, facing Hank with a toothy grin. "Enjoying the family life, I presume?"

"Spare me your semantics, Daniel," Hank says, glowering down at him. "What do you know about Agent Hanssen?"

"Hanssen? Hmm… oh! Of course!" Dan's face lights up. "He seems like quite the gentleman, don't you think?"

"How did he get into these walls?"

"How couldn't he? Hank, there are so many people here who don't know what they're doing. Many Operatives and recruits have died because of the incompetence that comes from here. They've all gone soft, as you have. Frankly, if I bothered to, I could easily leave."

"I heavily suggest you don't do that. For your sake."

"I appreciate the concern, but rest assured, I feel relatively confident. After all..." His smile widens. "... what's stopping me is what was supposed to stop Henry, right?"

Hank falls silent, his knuckles audibly cracking as he clenched his gloved fists. Just as his chest rises, he forces the air back out with as quiet of an exhale as possible.

"How many other White Lion Agents are in these walls?"

"Too many to count I'm afraid." Like a child who had just gotten bored with a toy, Dan looks away to a wall. "It's practically Biblical in nature. Something I know Henry will lecture you about."

"What?"

"I figured you wouldn't know. This may surprise you, but, you don't strike me as the religious type. Here's my knowledgeable charity to you then, just like old times."

Dan readjusts his sitting position. "It is said that the amount of angels that fell alongside Lucifer were innumerable. '…an enormous red dragon…His tail swept a third of the stars out of the sky and flung them to the earth…the great dragon was hurled down—that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.' Apocalypse chapter twelve verses 3 to 9.

"I've been doing quite a bit of reading, as you can see. All thanks to you."

"Rest assured, you'll have a lot more time for your hobby." Hank says as he's about to leave the cell. "Consider yourself lucky that you're still useful for something."

"Useful? Certainly. Lucky? Well…" Dan grins once more. "The coming summer may prove otherwise for the both of us."

Alone in the hospital bed with only Agent Hanssen by his side, Henry starts to drift in and out of his lethargic state and stares directly into his handler's eyes. Hanssen notices that Henry's pupils aren't dilated anymore.

"Fascinating. You're recovering at a remarkable pace. I'm going to have to write about this."

The door behind the Agent opens. Hank, Sanford, and Deimos walk in.

"Oh, good," the Agent starts. "I had someone sent to gather you three."

Hank squints his eyes. "Is that so?"

"Yes, indeed. Henry here's medically cleared to go with you guys."

Sanford shakes his head. "What?"

"It's only been an hour and a half since he woke up," Hank points out as he gets closer to Henry.

"It turns out your cousin here shares your healing genes and can be handled without further care from a hospital. Consider me envious."

The three of them help Henry out of his bed and Sanford and Hank hold on to his shoulders as they leave the medical bay.

"We can't trust that man." Hank states.

"I know," Henry responds.