Manhatten

December 10, 2065

Letting out a sigh, his eyes roamed outside the winodw of the vehicle. So this is what the future would be like? He hadn't been in this... world long and he had already whitnessed such an astonishing advancement. Imagine the advancements that were not for public use. Imagine the technology one army could posses.

He did some quick math. Even some 84 years later, there was still snow gently gliding down. Thr buuldings... they looked more metallic and less like brick and concrete. He had seen pictures of New York at night, perhaps even been there himself, but this.. this was beautiful. Everything seemed to be teeming with life.

His attention faded away from the scenery when a pair of headlights shone into his left window. Even in the future it seemed people deemed red and blue police lights still necessary.

"Step out of the car, come out with your hands visible." He turned his head, staring eyes wide at the figure. It was no officer. Had the government really replaced humans with robotic beings for this job?

The lights highlighted his hood and balaclava. Within one swift motion, he put the vehicle in reverse and speeded out of the large landing platform.

"Runner!" He heard the robotic voice say into his comms.

Fighting traffic, he twisted and spun the car. He had himself fooled that he was doing great. Just as he was about to make his great escape his car suddenly shut down. The lights flickered off and the car began descending downwards.

Flipping switches and pulling levers, nothing worked. Busting the window open, he leapt out. Arms outstretched he glided to another car, and from there climbed to another. The officer had a difficult time pinpointing him.

"Can't hit what you can't catch you pile of scraps!" He shouted, climbing atop a large truck, going in the opposite direction. With one hand hanging onto the side of the truck he used his free one to grab his pistol and fire a few shots into the robot.

"Damn." He said, his fire two shots bouncing off the metallic being, doing little to no damage. "Come on, peice of junk." He banged the Hand Cannon against the metal surface of the truck, frustrated about not having his Redeemer. Aiming for an exposed part of thin metal around the neck, he fired. The head of the body flew off, the body fell along with the car.

He held the weapon in his hand, looking at it for a moment. Maybe this weapon wasn't too bad, it did seem to have just as much if not more power than his Redeemer. The recoil was something he could get used to.

Putting his weapon in its holster he freed up his hands to climb on top of the truck. The night sky made it difficult to have read the writing on the side. Seeing another vehicle to hop onto he heard a door slide open and a pair of footsteps land on top.

The figure had the shadows cover his appearence. Benedikt drew his weapon immidiatly, but he was to slow. Two blue metallic rods were thrown beside his feet. Each exploding with sparks as they made contact with the ground, a buzzing noise sounding from them. Benedikt felt electricity run through his body. He collapsed onto the roof, feeling a boot on the back of his head, he was out.

1981

"He was taken." Park explained to Perseus during their debreifing.

"He told me to keep going sir, I couldn't turn around or none of us would have made it back.." Beck spoke carefully, everyone seemed to be on their toes.

"I just got back one of our most valuable assets and you come in here to tell me that you three... lost him." He spit fire. Perseus lowered his head, his arms supporting him as they pressed on the large table. "Tell me, what kind of car where they driving?"

"78' Fairmont, Ford." Portnova spoke up.

"Thats all I needed to know. Your all dismissed." He could explode at any moment. They all left him without a single word. The doors shut, Perseus slammed his pin board to the ground, scattering and throwing papers everywhere. There was a reason he didn't let anyone see him like this. Not very often that is. It was time to track down the younger man on his own.

2065

His head ached, as did the muscles in his body. His hands were bound together by a thick pair of metal cuffs.

"They're impossible to break out of. So don't even try. Or do, I could use a laugh." The man across from him warned. He had armor on his body from shoulders to toes it seemed. Everything but his head didn't have armor. He had his head shaved on both sides, a mohawk like hair style centered in the middle, and a beard on his face.

"Where am I?" He looked to see about five other men wearing similar uniforms, sitting, weapons in a resting position.

"Doesn't matter. I wanna know who you are." He leaned closer. "So, who are you? Some sort of performer or something?" He looked at Benedikt's outfit, the fingerless gloves probably giving him the idea.

"Yea. Yes I was just-"

"I was kidding. Nobody performs anymore, hasn't in many years." He eyed the peculiar man. "So you gonna tell me why you flew out of the sky, stole a car and has ended up here? Or are you just going to tell me that was a drone?"

"It was a bird."

"Birds arn't even- Did you hit your head or something?" The man looked at him as if he were stupid. Benedikt had noticed the lack of birds since his arrival, he assumed it had to do with people caring more about the money in their pockets than anything else.

"No, you just stepped on it really hard." He smiled. Trying to manuver some in his cuffs he found the repercussion for it was electric shocks. He let out a slight groan. The sparks taking him by suprise.

"Your not from around here. I mean what soldier wears gear like that?" The blond man pointed towards Benedikt's balaclava and fingerless gloves. "Thats the kind of gear my grandparents would have worn, maybe even great granparents. You don't just find that stuff from anywhere."

"I have no idea who you are but I need to know where I'm going before I can explain anything to you." Benedikt spat.

"I guess we'll be letting Spectre work with you tonight." He crossed his arms.

"Walsh, whats your status?" A voice on his comms came in. Benedikt could barley make out the words. "Package was delivered, your all going to love what I bring in." He responded.

"And what is that?" A femmine voice.

"This guy, he's a weird one. Dresses like a grandma. But tell Spectre to prep for interrogation."

"Copy." The woman said.

A few hours later they arrived. Benedikt was in awe at the massive facilty. It may have had only two stories but it was large. They went through a side door, gaurds letting them pass. The walls and floors were polished grey tile.

He was shoved into his room. The walls were all a shint metal, quite nice compared to the teaditional concrete. This room had multiple small lights in it, rather than a single lamp. He felt the hairs on his body stand. He wasn't alone. He felt a prescence but saw no figure. Looking around the room, he eyed every bolt in the wall.

"Have a seat." A synthetic voice spoke from his right. The figure literally appeared from thin air, Benedikt watched him uncloak from his surroundings and step forwards.

He eyed the man with a smug look on his face, bot saying a word. Spectre marched up to him, slamming him into the chair.

"Impressive technology, let's see if you have anything to teach." Benedikt said confidently. "What are you?" He narrowed his eyes, curious about what was in front of him.

"A cleaner, but a janitor will suffice." Spectre sat across the table, his arms rested on top of each other. Benedikt observed his grey and black camo attire. "I don't get paid to waste time." He stood up, walking over to his side.

Spectre ignited his blade from his arm, extending it outwards. Benedikt's eyes jumped for a moment. Spectre removed his hood, removing Benedikt's balaclava. "You dress like a dead man." He said coldly, observing the mask.

"And you... You cover up your voice, like a coward. You call yourself a what? A soldier? A hitman?" He scoffed. "Hardly."

"Let's see whats really on the inside then." The assasin put the blade before his chin.

"Go on, you won't find anything." He spat.

There was a loud scream. It echo down the hall, coming from the room. "Who are you!" He broke a few of Benedikt's fingers. No response, just a scream.

"Fine then." He sliced his right hand off. Benedikt turned pale.

"Romanov!" He coughed, finally breaking after a few hours of excruciating pain.

"Last name?" He held the man by the throat in his chair.

"That is." He was losing blood.

"First name!" Spectre shouted, sounding like a robotic monster.

"Benedikt!" He shot back, tears coming from his eyes.

"Your a soldier!" It was more of a statement than anything else.

"Yes..." He sobbed. "Yes, I am." His head drooped.

"Russian. You must be with Perseus and the CDC." Spectre released his grip, standing tall. "Our time here is done. You survived, congradulations." He crouched down, pulling his head up, having eye to eye contact.

"You won't enjoy our next encounter.." Benedikt's his response was barely audible.

"You said he fell from the sky?" Baker asked Walsh. They stood behind the mirror, listening to the assasin shout at their captive.

"I didn't see it but thats what police had reported, along with a stolen vehicle."

"Don't hear that everyday."

"He's not from here."

"Clearly. Have you ever seen such outdated attire?"

"Russian?" He sounded suprised, hearing the man's respond with a pleading yes.

"He doesn't even speak with their accent." Baker said.

"Perseus must have recruited him, he's a traitor to his country." Walsh assumed he was American. Everything about him screamed red, white, and blue.

"Theres more to know, we need everything." Baker said opening the door. "Once he undergoes surgery we'll resume questioning."