All characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyrighted to Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. I've taken the idea for the Unseelie Court from the TGS. Characters and concepts from Star Trek are property of Paramount and created by Gene Roddenberry. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. All original characters are the property of SN.

Note: I'm disregarding the events of the "Goliath Chronicles", with the exception of "The Journey" because I do not wish to use the rest of the "Goliath Chronicles" as canon to my story. Also, I am altering large sections of the Star Trek story-line, especially concerning events like WWIII and the Eugenics Wars, which without the Cold War as a backdrop probably wouldn't happen the way Roddenberry wrote them, if at all. This story takes place two days after "Taking Apart Empires… Part 3."

Taking Apart Empires… Part 4

By SN/TVfan

Email: Sam_Nary

Australian Outback

The area was quiet and left to be undisturbed by man in many respects. The river was calm and Harry Monmouth, also known as Dingo could even hear the chirping of frogs in the background. He had gotten quite used to his work for Australia's government and their equivalent of America's FBI. It allowed him to essentially clear his legal issues in the United States as part of a situation that he could only describe as a "Dirty Dozen Deal," but Dingo couldn't complain. It had also allowed him the opportunity to help the AI nanites, who he'd named Matrix, get used to the at times chaotic lives of organic beings while at the same time upholding law and order. It had proved to be a good working partnership over the previous years and in a way, Dingo enjoyed it far more than anything in his past.

"We are still perplexed as to why we must vacation with you," Matrix said to him as they walked along a small hiking trail that would lead them to a campsite the two could use. "We do not tire and could work with other officers while you recharge your cells."

"A little relaxation is good for you," Dingo replied with a bit of a chuckle, "I mean… you don't have to worry about outside pressures and enjoy a little fun."

"Fun does not bring order," Matrix pointed out, "and I do not tire and therefore do not need relaxation."

The two of them walked along the path for a few moments while Dingo looked for a spot to pitch a tent. Dingo did often have to remember that Matrix wasn't organic in nature and was actually made up of several different machines rather than one machine. It made his armor far more powerful than it had been before and helped him process things at a greater speed than might be possible otherwise, allowing him to make arrests quickly and often without doing lethal harm to the crook involved. Sometimes he'd even managed the arrest without doing any harm at all. That was good, but even with it; Dingo did need some time for rest from time to time while Matrix didn't. Dingo felt he was making some progress in helping Matrix understand on living with humans, but that didn't mean that Matrix still fully understood concepts such as rest and relaxation beyond things that organic life needed to regain natural energy. He'd hoped that he might make some progress with that on this particular trip.

"I suppose," Dingo answered, as he approached an area under a tree, "but remember you do work with organic beings that do tire and do need to relax. It might work out better to try it and look at things from an "organic" perspective. It might help you understand why we do things in certain ways."

Matrix nodded in understanding but said nothing. It watched Dingo as he began to set up his tent in an area where people had set up plenty of tents in the past based on the fact that the ground was work and the grass was either dead or missing altogether.

"I generally work with you," Matrix answered, "most of the rest of the organics see me as something other and tolerate me because I do my job well."

"I suppose they see me in the same way," Dingo gave a half sigh, "The Pack's nonsense may not have gotten as much attention here in Australia as it did in America, either as a show or as convicted criminal mercenaries. A lot of the people we're working with now generally dedicated themselves to law and order from an early age and their only "crime" might be the occasional speeding ticket. They don't see a guy like me as someone that fits what a lawman should be."

"You are more than just your past, I've seen that from our conversations and how you've operated," Matrix commented.

Dingo nodded as he began to hammer in the stakes to hold the tent down. He'd always had a bit more a fighter's spirit and ideology. It had left him open to mercenary work for various groups, some legal, some not so much. Just so long as he was able to triumph over something or someone, Dingo had been fine with it. Then came the idea for the Pack as a television series as a new challenge to tackle. He had felt that Xanatos's idea to use the group as a front to either deal with corporate rivals and eventually the gargoyles as a new challenge. However, he sound found that most of Xanatos Enterprises dealings had not only been legal but boringly so. The show rarely had any real combat as it was all acting and that left him flabby.

Dealing with the gargoyles had the promise of action and a way to show the Pack as something more than television stars without arousing any suspicion of criminal activity. As Dingo thought back on it as he set up the tent, he realized that he probably should have backed out of it then, as it rapidly spiraled out of control. They were routinely beaten by the gargoyles and only just managed escape when they did escape. The defeat's stung Dingo's pride, but to him the gargoyles were only a challenge for his own skills to overcome, things that training or technology could fix. However, the rest of the Pack's willingness to give up their humanity just to kill the gargoyles was the real problem and why he left the group when he did. It made him realize that much of his past was probably handled poorly. Now, here he was trying to make up for all that he'd done wrong in his life.

"I'd hope to be," Dingo said to Matrix, "and in a way… I'd hope that you could help with that."

"I can tell you what is legal and what would be the most effective tactic in a given situation," Matrix answered, "I cannot fully inform you on what is right and what is wrong, for you have mentioned that there are things that are wrong that are also legal."

"I did, didn't I?" Dingo said slowly as he scratched the back of his head, and then smiled, "Well… to be honest Matrix… I was thinking more along the lines of companionship… friendship. I know that may seem odd to you, but we humans need that sort of thing. Mates that will stand by us and make us better and as we make them better. It helps keep me sane, if you want to think of it that way."

"I believe I understand," Matrix said slowly, "and if need be, I will try to understand fun for you."

Five Miles Away…

"Have you heard anything Roger?" a calm and almost aristocratic voice asked, "we were supposed to get updates from the offices in Port Moresby for the election for Australia and Oceania for the council…"

A pair of blue eyes looked back to a lone man who looked something like a cross between a professional wrestler and a secretary. The man wore a suit and tie, but his muscle mass was enough to stretch it heavily. The man who had spoken quite trusted this man with many secrets as the two of them had had a long partnership in the Illuminati. They had managed to move their way up the ladder by being in places to assure that the Illuminati's hidden control of society remained so with the first playing the role of a wealthy rancher/businessman while the second, Roger, had settled more into a chief assistant's type role, though Roger had also spent a lot of his time touring small time pro wrestling circuits in Australia and New Zealand.

"Nothing definitive," Roger answered, "it could be that all whatever has been killing our members in Asia has either finished there or has simply switched targets."

"That is something I really don't want to consider," the first man grumbled, "It's all… frustrating."

"So, what do we do about it, Wayne?" Roger asked in a tone that was both nervous but still friendly, betraying the friendship the two men had together.

"I really… I really don't know," the first man, Wayne, answered, "This whole mess started with the Council's war against Khan in China. It blew out of control and the Council never saw fit to explain it to anyone outside it. Now we can't get even that…"

Wayne then looked out from Roger and back out the large glass windows. The sun was setting in the west, and as such, Wayne could actually see light fade. The windows looked to the east, but there were some streaks of orange light that drifted from the western horizon that Wayne could see, and further east, he could see the darkness of night descending. As he looked out he thought over how badly things had gone for the Illuminati. It started with the Council's obsession with eradicating Arthur Pendragon over something and the decision to genetically engineer the supermen in Tibet to ultimately do so. From there a whole series of defeats followed. The Council took its first losses in Britain and then China exploded in an uprising that the Council couldn't defeat on its own. With the council shattered and dead, the Illuminati needed to elect a new one. While Wayne and Roger saw it as an opportunity to rise higher, the various news reports of attacks and deaths of people that they knew were Illuminati members made things all the more frightening.

"In a way… it might be wise to simply leave," Wayne commented.

"Leave the Illuminati?" Roger asked, nervously.

"The ship is quite obviously sinking," Wayne said carefully, "If we stick with it…we won't do well. That will be clear."

Roger nodded, but that didn't make him feel confident about the solution that Wayne had just proposed. The two of them had tried to gain power and influence by supporting the Illuminati. In fact the pair of them had used the Illuminati to profit off several of the early problems that were now spreading beyond initial hardships and were becoming true threats that went beyond even the sorts of problems that were once hidden behind specific taxes or even volunteers or mercenaries. It was something that would surely mean that the Illuminati would have to come into the open and try to rule in the open around the world, which would have the potential of the same sort of uprisings that had occurred in China spreading around the world, and thanks to the blood loss the Illuminati had suffered in Britain and China earlier, it was unlikely that the Illuminati would be able to survive the likely uprisings.

Based on the random murders and the terror attacks, Wayne was fairly certain that in most places the Illuminati coming out into the open would lead to their entire organization facing massive defeats as people launching revolts against anything that even remotely sounded like they were supportive of the organization. In that, Wayne had an idea to actually use anti-Illuminati forces' surprise and likely paranoia against them to secure Illuminati rule in the sense that the Illuminati came out into the open but were essentially still ruling from the shadows. His only real fear was that he might find himself on the outside looking in. However, if there was some rumored assassin of Khan's somehow sneaking between countries and killing Illuminati members, which would still put a death warrant on his head.

"Suppose a new council is formed and defeats Khan and his assassin?" Roger asked.

"I suppose we either come back or promise to stay out of their way," Wayne replied, "but at the moment we can't tell that that will happen… and thus, it's time to get out."

Roger nodded, but said nothing.

Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea

Marilyn calmly walked through a hallway in one of the few businesses that existed in the county. Much of her move through Oceania had found that the Illuminati were only focused in political circles as there simply weren't enough business that were big enough to have major influence. It left for a situation where there were few men or women to go after there. It even surprised Marilyn that in a couple of places the only thing the Illuminati had was a single agent who was simply watching things for them.

Papua New Guinea, however, had more than enough people and in some cases cities to warrant a greater Illuminati presence than elsewhere. Their agents weren't as high ranking as others were and they were concentrated in a few parts of the country and mostly Port Moresby. That, however, was unimportant to Marilyn when compared to the overall mission to purge the Illuminati major members that had the knowledge and ability to keep it running and that had her here. She'd already dealt with Illuminati members that were members of the government and had now moved on to the last Illuminati members in Port Moresby.

The building wasn't much, only three stories, and looked like it was a pre-fabricated building made in the 1950s as part of a "help the third world" project, but it had plenty of Illuminati agents in it, and Marilyn had dealt with them all. She was now on her way back to use a restroom's mirror to move on to her next target. It was a narrow hallway, and she found the carpet rather tacky, but she supposed that was done for some reason and simply kept moving. She was only stopped when a scream erupted from an office in front of her and a woman cam stumbling backward out of it. The woman noticed Marilyn and immediately turned as if Marilyn was a police officer.

"Oh thank goodness," the woman spoke quickly in her native language, which Marilyn's magic translated for her, "please you need to help…"

"Help with what?" Marilyn asked, checking to see on how much this woman knew and what she was responding to.

She checked the door that the woman was pointing to and noted that it was an office where one of the target Illuminati members worked. In this, Marilyn knew the man inside was dead and just how he died, but she would have to make sure that this woman wasn't an Illuminati member as well.

"He's dead… sitting in his chair," the woman said frantically and quickly.

"If he's died of old age," Marilyn spoke, playing the role of an innocent bystander for the moment, "there is nothing I can do."

"No… he's young… there's a big snake all around him, turned him blue!" the woman answered, her voice still high pitched and frantic in nature.

Marilyn feigned surprise and recoiled backward as quickly as she could. "Snakes? Snakes… I don't do snakes!" Marilyn did her best to shudder. "I hate snakes!"

"Please… at least kill the snake," the woman said, "he's important! He has stuff he has to get to Australia!"

That was the sort of clue that Marilyn was looking for. The building did a lot of office work that was strictly local to Papua New Guinea in general and Port Moresby in particular. It didn't do any international business. If this woman knew of issues with Australia, she had to be an Illuminati member that was at least aware that the dead man was an important member, even if she wasn't. Now, while her mission was to only get the major members who knew the passwords and had at least some ability to get into the Illuminati's secrets that didn't mean that she was forbidden to take out minor members as well, as in pure theory they could step up. With that evidence confirmed, Marilyn dropped her "mask" of being an innocent helper and returned to her mission.

She raised one hand, which startled the woman and her eyes went wide as Marilyn cast her lightning spell. The woman barely had time to gasp as the spell hit her and sent her flying backward. She hit the far wall with a resounding thud before collapsing to the floor. Marilyn only smiled, as she figured that this was bound to happen as the Illuminati's global empire continued to fall apart as the larger bosses put more minor members in the line of fire. She figured it'd be beneficial as it'd ultimately lower the Illuminati's numbers further.

"The only snakes are the ones you serve," Marilyn said to the unconscious woman and pulled a wooden match from a pocket on her jacket, "and I'm out to take care of all of them…"

She then struck the match and let it stabilize into a warm flame. It wasn't big, but she leaned in and tossed the lit match so that it would land in the dead man's lap. Marilyn heard the snake hiss in surprise, but the man's clothes did catch fire and that was probably more than enough to frighten the animal. From there though, Marilyn made for the bathroom as quickly as she could before anyone else noticed that an Illuminati member in the building was dead or that the building was now on fire. Once there, she quickly dove into the mirror with knowledge of where she was to go next.

"Their empire is falling… first China, then the rest of Asia, then Oceania, and now to start with a pair of big wigs in Australia," Marilyn thought, "likely the two that the guys here were supposed to report to…"

With that, Marilyn disappeared into the mirror and to move on to her next target.

Wayne's Mansion, Australia

Marilyn appeared in the bedroom mirror of what had to be an extremely stylish house. Even from inside the mirror, she could see exquisite curtains over two sets of windows and polished wood floors, none of which could be particularly cheap. She emerged from the mirror and through her magic settled onto her feet without making a sound. It was dark and fairly quiet, but with the window shades not blocking out the outside light, Marilyn could see that there was no one in the bed in front of her.

"Good, no one will know I'm here," Marilyn thought silently to herself as she walked toward the wooden door that was to her right.

She quietly made her way across the room, doing her best to muffle the sound of her boots hitting the floor as she moved. After opening the bedroom door, she moved out into a darkened hallway, though from what she could manage to make out was just as richly decorated as the bedroom was. The big thing that she was paying attention to though was the sound of conversation coming from elsewhere in the mansion that echoed through the halls. That told her that someone was there and once she could get close enough she could identify her target. As she crept forward, she did begin to hear what was being said.

"I'm still not sure if leaving is a wise idea," one man was heard to speak; "if we leave, the Illuminati win, as it usually has, and we try to come back… we could face real punishment for desertion in a time of need."

"And what have you seen that would indicate that the Illuminati is in a position TO survive and marshal the forces needed to stop Khan?" a second voice answered, "Khan announces he's captured all of mainland China… then we have members starting to disappear all around the world and those that have been found have been found dead. And it is a pattern that hasn't slowed in the slightest."

Marilyn crept forward, eventually noticing a sign of light coming up from what looked like a staircase and moved toward it. The conversation was certainly interesting, as it sounded like her targets were talking about leaving the Illuminati. According to all the various files she'd read, that sort of thing didn't happen often, if at all, but still made for something interesting to overhear and would be worth reporting to Khan once she returned to China with her mission complete. It wouldn't save these two, of course, but it would be a sign of the over plan working perfectly. They continued talking as she approached.

"Yeah, I know… the whole sinking ship thing," the first voice was heard to speak before pausing for a moment, "I suppose of this is related to some of the things we've both seen and even urged over the years. The price of failure and so on…"

"I know we've seen a lot of that," the second voice answered, "Shoot… we've been the CAUSE of some people meeting that fate, and yes it is scary."

Marilyn began to creep down the stairway, which consisted of two short stairways that ran next to each other. She moved down one toward a landing where she'd then need to turn to head down the other set of stairs. Her progress, however, was slow because the stairs, like the floor, were wooden and if she rushed, these two men would hear her coming from a mile away.

"But I'd think the present situation is a bit different from the past," the second man spoke, "everyone is afraid and not just you and me. The old Council is gone and we've tried to elect a new one… and it's failed, and by rule, even surviving members of the old Council cannot dictatorially assume power. It would set off a civil war within the Illuminati that would hasten its demise. If we leave… while we might be thought of as brave, they will be too busy to know if we even survive the cataclysm that the entire Society has been going through."

0-0-0

Wayne and Roger had both continued their discussion after sunset. Despite his appearance to the contrary, Roger was fairly intelligent and paid fairly close attention to every event and activity that went on. Wayne had always found that helpful and it had even allowed him to climb the ladder within the Illuminati, back when someone wasn't assassinating members. As such, the two of them knew the price of failure with regard loyalty or the secrecy of the Illuminati as well as the failure to make sure that the Illuminati policy was kept as the main local policy.

Wayne did admit that Roger made some good points on certain things, but he was certain that the present situation they were in was one that dramatically changed things. Too many things had changed and there were too many coincidences for Wayne to think that the Illuminati to recover. In this, he stood be his analogy of a rat knowing when to abandon a sinking ship. He was fairly sure that Roger agreed with it in his own way as well, but wanted to be sure and confident staying with Wayne.

"So… how do we tender our resignation, and more importantly, when?" Roger asked from the chair he was in.

"We can go into the main offices in Sydney," Wayne answered, "I can cover it as something of a business trip and leave a resignation leader addressed to all surviving members of the old Council and all the present living candidates for the new Council election. The letters will be sealed and won't be read until their recipients get them. By then we'll have left and can start looking for a new life… away from their troubles."

"I'm afraid it is too late for that," came a voice from a doorway behind Wayne, startling both of them.

Wayne and Roger both turned to see Marilyn standing there in the doorway in her full commando gear; though for the moment she wasn't holding any of her weapons. Both men noted that her weapons were holstered. Neither knew that Marilyn possessed power in sorcery, but they were quick to realize that Marilyn was the assassin behind all the problems the Illuminati had and that she was dangerous.

"Who are you?" Wayne demanded as he backed away and kept his eyes focused on Marilyn.

"Ultimately, I'll be your killer," Marilyn said with a confident smile as she walked forward, "but I must say some of your talk on wanting to leave the Illuminati has been quite intriguing to me. It is nice to know that I'm spreading fear through an inept tyrannical organization."

Roger rose from his seat and moved forward slightly. He didn't know what Marilyn was fully capable of, but for the moment she wasn't attacking with any weapon and he could see she was alone. He knew she was there to kill them, but Roger wasn't about to let her kill him without a fight and neither would he allow her to hurt Wayne. The two of them had been friends and there was nothing that would drive Roger and Wayne apart in that regard.

"Who are you?" Roger demanded, moving to protect Wayne, as he had always done, "What is your name!?"

"Does my name really matter?" Marilyn countered, "I've already said I'm going to kill you. Knowing my name isn't going to help you."

Roger moved forward quickly and caught Marilyn by one arm. He managed some level of surprise and got Marilyn onto the ground and wrestled her into a position where he had both of her arms pinned to her back. In doing this, Roger felt fairly confident that he had won, and normally Wayne would feel very confident about all this. However, despite a short pained grimace, Marilyn was actually smiling from the floor at him. This smile wasn't playful or seductive, or any of the other sort of smiles that Wayne had seen in the past from women. This smile was confident, like someone who was going to do harm and knew they could do it. That unnerved Wayne.

"It matters…" Roger spoke, "Now…"

Roger never got the chance to finish as Marilyn kicked on calf up and catching Roger between his legs with the heel of her foot. He gave a pained grunt as he tumbled forward and ended up face planting on the floor in front of Wayne. Wayne was quick to try and get Roger to his feet and get him moving. The blow had sent him flying and in pure theory shouldn't have been possible, which meant that their assailant was far stronger than she looked.

"Come on, we gotta move," Wayne said to Roger as he got the man to his feet.

"That hurt," Roger answered with his voice a little higher than before.

Wayne looked to see Marilyn leisurely getting to her feet. She still had that confident smile on her face. Wayne took Roger by the arm and began to pull him away while Marilyn raised one hand toward them and commanded in Latin, "fire." With that, the wall right behind where Roger and Wayne had been suddenly burst in to flame. Both of them noticed this as they moved away and just how close they came to being incinerated.

"She's a witch!" Roger screeched in surprise.

"Come on," Wayne said in a hurry, "We can't stay here and get burned."

0-0-0

Marilyn was greatly enjoying her game with these two men. The more muscled one of the two had caught her by surprise, and he had to admit he knew how to handle a physical confrontation in most situations. However, Marilyn knew that he didn't stand a chance against her. She was stronger physically and skilled in magic. Neither of these two men were really a threat to her. However, in many ways she enjoyed a good fight and when her targets fought back, as it gave her the chance to exercise and keep her reflexes sharp. The targets that just died or cowered weren't any fun to deal with. For the moment, these two seemed like they would be fun.

She watched them run off and then leisurely followed. They went through a door that lead into another hallway and could hear their shoes pounding heavily on the floor. The smaller of the two men was clearly afraid and trying to get away and to keep his friend alive as well, which made sense to Marilyn. If she were in their place, she'd probably do the same, but she couldn't let that happen, but for the moment it was unlikely that they'd get far.

"No matter where you run, no matter where you hide," Marilyn said slowly, "I will catch you."

She entered the hallway to see them disappear around another corner, leaving her in a hallway lined with exquisite looking paintings of the Australian outback. Some even looked like they had animals in them, but she didn't pay attention. She kept her advance to move on her two targets as they tried to flee from her. As she herself got closer to that corner, she heard what sounded like a mechanical whirring sound, as though an electric motor was running. Fearing her targets had run into a garage, she moved more rapidly forward to find that neither Roger nor Wayne had left the building. They were standing at the end of the hallway before a wooden door holding what looked like laser pistols. She also noticed that two paintings on the wall had moved to reveal secret compartments in the wall, and that was likely the source of the electric motor.

"Burn in hell, witch!" Roger declared and fired his pistol at Marilyn.

The range was such that Roger couldn't possibly miss, and Marilyn only just got her shield up in time as the pistol fired a particle beam at her. Once the particle beam hit her shield, the particle beam went into the fiery explosion that the weapons were known for, and largely due to the energies used in the creation of the particle beam. It did some damage to ceiling and walls and Marilyn felt sweat run down her face as he kept her own energies up to maintain the shield to protect herself.

"Whatever she's got it's strong!" Roger stated and fired again.

Again Marilyn's shield protected her, though this time the explosion from the particle beam weapon being fired lead to the roof above her collapsing and flaming debris being brought down around here. Her shield pushed it outward, but thankfully the damage to the building was enough to make a good portion of the ceiling and wall come down, giving Marilyn the opportunity to dive out of sight. As she hit the floor and rolled away from the corner, she heard her quarry go through the door they been standing in front of. She then got up and dusted herself off.

"They're certainly surprising," Marilyn mused to herself, "and actually worth hunting… better than all the others that have simply been bureaucrats."

She then reached down to her own holsters and drew her own weapons. Her mission required the death of these Illuminati leaders, but there was no real limitation on how that was to be done. She often used magic to increase the speed with which she had hit her targets, but these two had provided enough of a challenge to be worth using more conventional tactics on. They had earned that much.

"But the end result will be the same," Marilyn continued to smile.

0-0-0

"We should have finished her off," Roger argued as they tried to get into a Mercedes that Wayne owned.

They had fled to a large garage and the Mercedes was the only car that was in position to actually drive out.

"We only drove her back," Wayne answered as he pressed a button on a wall panel to open the garage door, "We didn't do her harm… and her power could be too much for us to handle by conventional means… particularly in an enclosed space. We'll need to get room to maneuver."

"Fine," Roger admitted slowly as suddenly the door they'd just left through exploded into the garage and left debris laying over the concrete floor.

Shortly after that, Marilyn strode into view again, but this time holding out two particle beam blasters as well. The woman was again confidently smiling.

"You didn't think you were only one with blasters, did you?" Marilyn asked with a teasing voice as she walked forward.

"Go, get out of here," Roger urged to Wayne and fired on Marilyn.

Marilyn dove and managed to doge the shot, which only put the door frame on fire and brought more parts of Wayne's house coming down as a result of the shots fired. Wayne only looked at Roger with a somewhat nervous look.

"Go!" Roger urged and waved Wayne away, "She's after you. Go! I'll hold her off."

"Okay," Wayne said slowly as he climbed into his car and started the engine.

Roger heard the engine start and glanced back to see Wayne slowly backing up. Roger nodded back to his friend and then turned back to face Marilyn, who was returning to her feet after narrowly avoiding the last shots that Roger had fired on her.

"You were only half right," Marilyn commented, "I'm after BOTH of you!"

"Killing me is stupid," Roger answered and fired on her, forcing her to duck behind a couple of Wayne's other cars, "my job has always been protection… not much more than that. And I'll gladly give my life to save my friend and potentially stop a monster like you."

"Monster," Marilyn laughed as she crouched low and moved slowly so that Roger wouldn't be able see her, "Ha! I am your superior! Your own bosses created me to their ultimate weapon."

Roger listened and believed nothing that this woman said. She was skilled with magic and equipped with more mundane weapons and seemingly was good enough to avoid the worst that he could do to protect Wayne. He couldn't see her for the moment, but he knew that Wayne had nearly fully backed out of the garage, and thus he began to back away on foot. A part of him hoped he might be able to Marilyn pinned down to dive into the car and ride away, but he kept that on the back burner for the moment.

"Sounds like the definition of monstrous to me," Roger commented and fired at a few of the random cars that he thought Marilyn might be behind.

The cars had the explosion that Roger wanted, but Marilyn had lucked out that the ones he hit were not the ones she had hidden behind. That saved her from direct danger and staying low had helped her avoid serious injury, but it stalled her attempt to advance and changed the line of sight so that Roger could now potentially see her, though he also looked to be squinting through the smoke and haze. With that she acted and moved in rapid rush to move around the car she had been behind, move in front of the one that Roger had blasted, and then dove across the aisle-way that existed between the various other cars that were parked in the garage.

Roger heard Marilyn's footsteps and turned to it. He fired again, this time at the car that Marilyn had been behind in the hopes of injuring her in the explosion. The car erupted in flames and throwing shrapnel around the garage just as Marilyn appeared before him and dove across an aisle-way and fired at him. Roger's eyes only widened as the particle beam came straight at him.

0-0-0

Wayne had managed to back out of the garage and made a turn as he backed up to pull forward again. He could hear the sound of explosions and metal bouncing off of concrete as his cars exploded. It struck him as though a war zone had somehow ambushed his own home. A part of him hoped to see Roger running toward him as he pulled forward, but as he looked into the garage of his mansion, all he saw was Roger standing alone and suddenly a fist sized hole being blown through his chest by a particle beam.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Wayne screamed in shock and horror, but hit the gas, fearful that his attacker would only finish him off.

Dingo's Campsite

Dingo's evening had been fairly quiet as he settled into a small folding chair he'd set up by a campfire. He had his tent set up and would have some time to relax and hopefully come up with a way to get Matrix to agree that relaxing was a good thing. He felt the artificial intelligence was catching on to the concepts right and wrong and the legal concepts of law and order, which would prevent it from deciding to try and remake the world in an 'orderly' manner, but he still had room to try and help Matrix better understand humanity.

"You're free to sit down if you wish," Dingo offered to Matrix and gestured to the other chair he had set out for Matrix to sit in.

"Your offer is appreciated, but I have no need to," Matrix answered, "I will stand guard to let you relax."

"You could relax too," Dingo commented, "This is a recreational campsite, mate. There isn't anyone or anything around that do any of us any harm."

"There are crocodiles in the river, are there not?" Matrix questioned.

"Salties?" Dingo retorted, "But we're not camped close enough to the bank to be in real danger and the rangers do patrol the area to see where they seem to be the most active."

"Statistical data has shown that in dealing with such predators that no precaution will leave one hundred percent safe and that should you be attacked by such an animal the odds of survival are low," Matrix answered, "Since I do not tire… I will make sure that you do not number among those statistics."

"Ah, mate, every once in a while you gotta play the odds," Dingo answered, "Statistically speaking, I could die in a car wreck or be struck by lightning. There is always something that may turn the odds against someone. Part of what we humans do is to carry on and not worry that something might get us."

"I have noted that humans could not calculate the odds of all probabilities to insure the best and most orderly outcome to any given problem," Matrix answered, "and have thus concluded that is the cause for your description of playing the odds."

Dingo playfully waved him off, "I'd think we'd probably do that even if we could. Some people like the thrill of those sorts of things. Gets their adrenaline pumping and so on."

"A perplexing habit," Matrix answered and then suddenly turned to the northwest.

Dingo looked up when he didn't hear Matrix continue his comment. The AI was looking off away from the campsite and toward the horizon. He wasn't saying anything, but his optics seemed focused on something. Dingo had hoped to convince Matrix to try and relax, but he'd learned enough from Matrix to know that Matrix was detecting something and guessing his sensors was never a smart thing to do.

"Is something wrong, mate?" Dingo asked to Matrix, standing up as he did so.

"We have a growing fire about five miles to our northwest," Matrix answered, "would there be some scheduled bonfire that you wished to attend?"

"Not to my knowledge," Dingo answered, "According to maps, some rich bloke owns some land in that direction that borders the land the park is on…"

"Do these maps name the owner's name?" Matrix asked.

Dingo moved over and picked up a large five gallon bucket that he had set by the outside of the ten for any possible emergency with his campfire. It was presently full of water, and Dingo was quick to poor the water on the fire.

"They didn't list the owner by name," Dingo answered, "but that doesn't mean that what your sensors detect SHOULD be burning."

"So, we are to investigate?" Matrix asked.

"We are here," Dingo answered, "if it's nothing we can always come back… but if it is something, we might be the only ones who can do anything."

"And this would not interfere with your need to relax?" Matrix asked.

"It probably does interfere," Dingo shrugged, "but that doesn't mean our help may be needed. And if someone DOES need our help, we cannot just stand by and let something bad happen."

"You did not bring your armor, am I to assume you will need my help directly?" Matrix asked.

Dingo nodded slowly. Often times, on assignment to catch some criminal, usually a violent one that was feared to be either well-armed or fanatical in their dislike of the law, Dingo would use his power armor that Xanatos Enterprises had made for him when the Pack first got their upgrades. Matrix often linked himself to the armor's computer and communications systems, which had led to massive increases in the armor's ability. However, in smaller situations, there were times when Dingo would go without his main armor and if need be, would directly wear Matrix as the AI took on the form of a suit of mechanical armor. This particular instance was one of those times, and Matrix reached out to Dingo as the former Pack member approached him.

Putting on Matrix was a bit of an odd sensation as Dingo could feel the nanites that made up Matrix's body touch every exposed portion of his skin and could often feel Matrix compress itself down over clothing so that Dingo could actually feel Matrix's grip on him through his clothes. It often felt like bathing in water, though Dingo also knew that if Matrix wanted to, it could be far rougher, so he didn't say anything. Matrix gave Dingo a far more mobile suit than his normal power armor. Dingo actually felt more like he was in some sort of living metal superhero's costume when he wore Matrix and at times he did prefer it that way. Yet, Matrix could still generate rocket thrust to fly and could engineer any weapon needed, if only for a short time, and sometimes that was to Dingo's advantage as the present situation was.

Once Matrix was on him and altered himself so that the AI was essentially letting Dingo see through Matrix's own optics, the two took to the air and rapidly rose higher into the air. As they rose together into the air and got above the trees that surrounded the campsite, Dingo was able to see what Matrix had noticed, smoke rising the northwest, and it didn't look as though someone was barbecuing.

"This could be bad," was all Dingo could manage to say as he flew toward the smoke. The column grew bigger and blacker as he approached. As he got closer, Dingo was also able to see that what was burning was fairly expensive looking mansion. Seeing this, Dingo was quick to edit his comment. "This IS bad."

"Shall I report this in?" Matrix asked, "And notify all the proper authorities."

"Yeah," Dingo answered, "you may need to get onto the internet for the street address… but let them know we have some rich guy's mansion on fire and we could be looking casualties."

Dingo landed quietly and could easily see flames engulfing much of the building and thick black smoke coming out the thickest from an open garage door. Dingo surveyed things calmly until Matrix's sensors caught something and displayed it to him before his eyes. He could see the infrared image of a figure lying on the concrete floor in the garage.

"Did you report to them on any casualties?" Dingo asked.

"Only that they were possible but that we had yet to search the building," Matrix answered.

Dingo walked forward, trusting that Matrix would filter the air for him and focused on the figure that he saw. He came closer only to find that it was woman lying there in what looked commando gear with a pained grimace on her face.

"Are you hurt?" Dingo asked to the woman as he knelled down.

"My back," the woman said weakly and pointed with one hand.

Being closer now, Dingo was able to see that the woman was wounded with several small pieces of metal, likely the outer portions of various cars that looked like they'd been blasted by near constant laser fire. They didn't look like they were in deep enough to do long term harm to the woman, but definitely enough to mean that she would require medical attention.

"Can you walk?" Dingo asked, "Can you feel your legs."

"It hurts too much," the woman said weakly.

Dingo looked around him and sighed heavily as he could see the fire growing thicker. He had to get the woman out before she either burned to death or was asphyxiated by the smoke. He tried to stay as low as he could, but he had to raise her up slightly so he could cradle her his arms. She gave a pained hiss as he did so, which was a sign that her wounds hadn't paralyzed her, but that could also be bad as in theory you didn't move people with a potential spinal injury. This case was an exception as if Dingo didn't move her, she would die anyway.

"Sorry about that," Dingo spoke as he rushed to move her out of the burning garage and at least toward the relative safety of the outside air, "but it's either this or let you burn."

"Thank you," the woman said weakly.

"Don't worry," Dingo assured her, "everything will be okay."

Dingo did get her out, but as they emerged from the burning garage, neither Dingo nor Matrix the woman's confident smile.

To Be Continued…