Will and Fate
By Jeremy

Chapter 16

September 23, 1997

Through his VR helmet, Mark Culhen was glaring at a three-dimensional map of northwestern Africa. Somewhere over there, Shadowlaw had a base inside of which his fellow agent and comrade, Cammy White, was being detained, and probably going through all flavors of Hell. He had waited for a signal he was certain would come about the base's location had come through, but Bison's guys had worked well in jamming it. Not that they's discover the signal - Mark had designed the transmitter and its coded signal himself, and would have been be ashamed to find that his coding could be broken in two days - but their electronic devices were interfering with the job Mark had doggedly set himself to.

And it was starting to get damn annoying.

"Must be some way to get through this roadblock." he muttered "Computer, triangulate using Program Samson through satellites B-3, B-4 and F-8."

"UNABLE TO COMPLY. INTERFERENCE PREVENTING FURTHER TRIANGULATION." said the SCD's computer's neutral voice.

Mark hit the arms of his chair in frustration, and let out a string of good Scottish oaths that nearly teared the paint from the walls of the hightech VR Recon Room. As he growled, however, he was already thinking on how to circumvent this problem. He soon found a possible path.

"Computer. Utilise sattelite B-3 to feedback the Falkirk virus and have B-4 and F-8 reactivate Program Samson. Start triangulation zero point three seconds following Falkirk.

"ACKNOWLEDGING PARAMETERS. FALKIRK VIRUS UPLOAD IN PROGRESS."

Mark cackled in triumph. Take that, you assholes. The Falkirk Virus was his work alone, and had so far never failed in bringing down unexpecting firewalls and jamming without the people being attacked knowing about it.

"So, Mark, got anything new?"

The voice was male, tinged with suppressed emotions and overflowed with fatigue and guilt. The Scot knew who it was in a second. He took his helmet off and faced the newcomer.

"Not much yet, Jer." he said carefully, picking his words with the nervousness of someone who knew the subject was inflammatory. "Their jamming's been troublesome, even for our Veronica System. However, I've sent the Falkirk Virus, whcih should give me results soon." he paused "Ye look like Hell, my friend."

It was only too true. For two days since Cammy had been taken back by Bison, the grey-eyed man had worked nonstop, at a frenzied pace, geting in touch with all of the contacts he had in northwest Africa, barely taking a rest. It was a lot to take, and it was clear that even Storm's rather beyond-athletic stamina was taking a strain. His eyes were shadowed and bloodshot, his bearing showing a slight stoop that clearly stated that a body couldn't live on adrenaline all the time. His tired, unkempt appearance worried many, including Mark.

The weary young men nodded. "Feels like it, too. I managed to get five hours of sleep, though. I'll be okay."

Mark frowned. Five hours? That hardly could have repaired enough of the strain that the guy had put his body throught in the last fourty hours. "Still, you should get some more sleep."

At that, the younger man let out a macabre laugh that made the great hacker tense. There was hysteria in that laugh, and an undefeeling of pain. This wasn't good. Mark had been at this business long enough to know the signs of emotional breakdown. But how to help the guy now, when he was obssessed by something so important?

Before he could say anything, Jeremy stopped laughing. "Sleeping is far, far too painful."

"Why?"

"Because I can see it as well as feel it." was the empty reply. Mark cocked an eyebrow in confusion, and after a moment, his friend saw it and expanded on his remarks. "The beatings, I mean."

Okay, this was getting stranger by the moment. "Beatings? What beating?" he asked, even though his brain gave him pretty nasty clues.

"The beatings they do to Cammy." it was said with what should probably be taken as a 'but of course' voice, except for the catch that kept the voice from being neutral.

"That's not possible!"

"Oh, Mark," said the grey-eyed man with a new laugh, bleak this time. "Its definitely happening. I can feel it at the back of my mind when I'm awake. When I sleep, its almost like I was there!"

The Scot didn't know how to answer to that. Psychology and philosophy and parapsychology were all elements of the world he had never devoted much time to; there were people like Joan who knew so much more in those fields. Oh, how he wished SHE was there. Joan would have known how to carry on in this conversation. But Jeremy Storm was here now, and he was holding something that was destroying him, and he was close to breakdown. Mark would have to go about it with his guts.

First, rationalize. "Hrm...perhaps that...well link between the two of ye."

Jeremy nodded. "Yes. I think so too. I think it may have been awakened by the intensity of her ordeal. That's the only thing that might explain it." his fists clenched.

Mark was about to add something about it, but he was cut off quite efficiently by two bloodshot eyes that looked at him with the air of someone who felt lost and powerless. And angry. Terribly, horribly angry.

"She can't move you know. They striped her, chained her hands to the ceiling, so that they can beat as much as they want, where they want, when they want - which is damned often." the bloodshot eyes were suddenly alight with hysteria, with something that bordered dangerously close to madness. "I see it all! I SEE IT ALL! AND I CAN'T HELP HER! I know a person I care about is being abused, see it. And I can do NOTHING! NOTHING! AND ITS DRIVING ME CRAZY! CRAZY!!!!!"

Mark had listened to it all in rising fear, fear that was mixed with sympathy and horror. No wonder the man was ready to collapse, he was supporting both ordeals and working at the same time. It was just a matter of time before he was torn apart, litterally. Mark decided he had to act.

"Jer." he said quietly "We'll find her and bring her back. Soon lad, very soon."

Jeremy put his hands over his eyes, and he seemed really not to hear. Mark plunged on.

"Its the worst thing that can happen, losing someone ye love, heh lad? We both know how that feels, both went through it. And I don't want ye to feel it again, just because of that. We WILL find her, we WILL bring her back, I can promise ye that. And as for ye, Storm, hang on! Try to use that link of yers to give her something to hold on to. Love, compassion, understanding, anything! Maybe you can't help her physically yet, but you can help her mentally!"

Jeremy had come to look at him, and there was something in there now. Oh, there was hysteria and oain still, but something was now there that had been absent before: determination. He sighed inwardly in pure relief: his little speech had worked. The man would hold for now.

A loud beeping attracted the attention of both men. Knowing the meanning of it, Mark promptly forgot about Jer and punched in a sequence to view the results of his foray. He put the helmet on.

"Computer, update." he said breathlessly.

"TRIANGULATION COMPLETED. COMPOUND DETECTED BY BEACON AT FIVE POINT THREE MILES SOUTH OF ABU HAMAD, SOUDAN!"

Mark tore of his helmet and shouted. "YESSS! Good work Ibuki, lass!!"

Jeremy was looking at him with mingled confusion and hope. Mark hopped off his chair and rushed out of the room, pulling the younger - but more powerfully built - man along.

"Come on lad! We got to get our asses to Soudan and save a cute braided ass!" he hollered happily.

"You...you FOUND HER?!?" the tone was so happy it seemed to be someone else than the broken man he had just talked to a minute ago. Mark grinned.

"Yep. Shadowlaw defeated by the master of electronics and a young mistress of the shadows! Let's get going!

* * * * * * * * * *
At the same time...

The 'young mistress of the shadows' did not feel so masterful right at this moment. Sure, she had managed to escape detection in this base for nearly two days, but that was something that she EXPECTED of herself - to do any less would be shameful. And this base was more scientific than military, even though it seemed to possess impressive devices intent on hiding its sheer presence from the world. But the defense to detect someone already inside was practically inexistent, and avoidable by any who had speed, dexterity and wits. And she had quite a fair reserve of all three.

Still, she hadn't managed to enter a certain section of the base - security there had been tightened so that it was extremely risky to make an infiltration attempt. So there she was, winding her way throught airducts she had memorised after twenty minutes of carefully looking at plans of the base she had swiped, and thinking on how she had come all the way here.

It had started by Mark's message, which had frighteningly blown through all the codes and the electronic shields she had put on the Net to hide her home and had delivered a message that was nothing short of a polite request to help them resolve a crisis. She was to follow Cammy around a little while, and report back to the rest of the people who wanted the mess between Cammy and Jeremy resolved. An odd request, but an appealing one, for three reasons. First, because she had grown to at least respect the two persons involved, and wanted to help if she could. Second, Cammy was a trained agent with keen observation skills, and passing unnoticed to such a person was always a challenge. And third, well, she's always wanted to see what European cities like London looked like!

She'd managed to go - obtaining Geki's by-your-leave - by explaining the first two reasons, omitting the third (although he surely guessed it) - and had followed the woman around for two days - sometimes allowing herself to look at an English monument for a few moments - before Shadowlaw had come in the play. When she'd arrived, Cammy had already been defeated and Bison was present. There was nothing she could do. All she could reasonably do was follow and hide in the plane that brought them to this facility. She'd never seen Cammy since the plane, but knew where she was. And she was intent on checking out the situation right now, althought she knew that as long as Bison was present, there was little she could do.

She was in the restricted area, now, she could tell from the memorised layout of the place. Now, she should take the left airduct, then right, then right again...

A scream wafted through the ducts, making her freeze for a moment. The scream - an intense, pain-filled thing - had originated from somewhere close, she could feel it. It took her some orienting, but she finally managed to find a a grate that must overlooked the place where the painful lament had originated from. She looked downward, and then it was all she could do to prevent her reaction from revealing her position.

In a white-walled room that had perhaps fifty paces to each wall, there was Cammy. She wasn't in any position that one would consider comfortable. She was forcibly standing up, manacled, a chain going from her bound hands toward the ceiling. She was naked - Ibuki saw, with rising anger, the woman's ravaged clothes strung about the room. But the worst was the appearance of the body. Legs, arms, chest, all that she could see was covered by blue or red marks. A few cuts showed at some places - the right hip, the left hand - and of course her wrist were so raw they were bleeding. At first, the young ninja was amazed she was still alive. Then it dawned on her.

Her grandfather told her that there were ways to wound a person, to strike someone and leave a pâinful mark, without breaking an arm or a rib. Geki had told her it was possible, that way, to keep someone alive but in intense pain. Such practice would break the mind of a person over time. He had expressed disgust over the whole process, and, seeing this, she understood why. This was inhuman. They hadn't beaten her, they had savaged her. She would have called out to her, if not for the fact that there were others in the room.

Two of them were sentries, in unformed, standing by the door, alert and ready. She dismissed them. They were unimportant. More important were the two standing very near the battered body of the SCD agent. One was a tall man, black-haired, black garbed, with a neutral mien. He was looking at Cammy like one would a wall. The other man was even taller, more powerfully built, in full crimson uniform, a dark blue cape draped upon his shoulders and a military cap on his head. She gritted her teeth even further when she saw the gleeful cruelty stamped upon that face. She then had no doubt then that this was Bison. The Lord of Shadowlaw was putting an hand on the young woman's face. Immediately purple energy crackled, and lanced throught the captive's body.

The effect was immediate. Cammy's body both jerked and stiffened, while from her mouth issued an animalistic howl, one that disregarded dignity to leave the place to the more primal essences of pain and fear. The scream lasted many seconds, until Bison removed his hand, and Ibuki had to call upon all of her common sense and training not to charge down and try to take out this...this...BEAST! Even the guards seemed a little put off. The black-garbed man seemed unfazed. In fact, he resumed speaking when Bison stopped, like the man had just arranged a poster on the wall or something.

"My lord would want her as repayment for the loss she was essential in providing."

"My brother WOULD want that." stated Bison, amused. "I will have no problem providing him with what he wishes when she is mine again. Of course, AFTER she has done her first testing mission." he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her head upward to face him. Ibuki could see her face clearly. A large, purplish welt consumed the left side of her jaw, while her right eye was puffed shut and her lip was split. However, out of that good eye, beyond the pain, there still remained determination, defiance. Cammy White's spirit was still there, fighting. Bison smiled at the sight. "I will be going away for a day or two, long enough for the good doctor to prepare you. And then, " his smile widened, dark "I will command you to kill that SCD man - Storm, is it? - the man I feel you being so very fond of. That would be an excellent test, would you not agree?"

The reaction was immediate. Cammy's face seem to darken with rage and despair, and she tried to thrust forward, a futile move. Bison only tssk, letting more power flow from him through the captive. Again, that animal scream, and then silence. She had lost counciousness. Bison looked at her for a moment, then turned to the sentries, his demeanor cold and commanding.

"You, bring her to the medical chamber immediately, and have my private jet prepared at once." he said. The guards jumped to obey, untying Cammy and transporting her out of the room. At no time did she do more than twitch slightly. The two men watched coldly, then resumed their conversation. "Are your forces ready, now?"

"Yes." said the smaller man. "Our forces will strike SCD Headquarters as soon as your mole gives us the green light. Is she trustworthy."

"Very. She will not fail her work - she never has. It is pride to her." Bison shrugged as if pride was a flimsy concept. And, to him, it probably was.

They left a moment later, leaving behind an angry and guilty spy.

Ibuki felt very bad right at this moment. Here she had seen what was happening to a good person, a person she had grown to respect, and she'd just hidden there as they tortured her further. Of course, she knew there was little she could have done. No, in fact, nothing. She had sensed the power in the one called Bison. In no way could she have matched it. The black-garbed man too, had possessed great power. Not nearly as much, but enough to have her wish never to meet him in battle. The way that one had moved...the feline-like grace of his movements. Yes, there definitely was something there. All in all, she knew, hiding had been the best thing. But it didn't alleviate the shame she felt over her inability to act.

She was pondering at this when she felt a buzzing at her hip. Something in her sash was ringing silently. She put her hand there, drew out a small, cylindrcal object upon which a green light was flashing. In the middle of it, on a smile screen, a message was showned.

-Good work, lass! We know where you are. Hang on tight, we're underway!-

-Mark-

She couldn't help but grin wickedly as she read this good. So, the odds would soon improve, heh? Fine by her! She was sick of this inactivity. In fact, she remembered a good way to increase the odds in her coming allies' favour.

She started to move again, determined. She had a new mission now. Now, where was the control room that oversaw the defense of this place? It should be right, then at the next...left...then...

She would make sure that, when the fireworks started, Shadowlaw got the worst of it!

* * * * * * * * * *
Three hours later...

Five crafts soared through the azur skies at great speeds, over the seacoast of Lybia, towards Soudan. Despite their great speed, the small fleet of aircrafts made little noise, and were undetectable by scanner or radar. This was the desired effect, for these were on a potentially dangerous mission and wished for as few obstacles as possible.

They were SCD crafts. And they were far from standard. The largest, the ShadeArrow, was a transport craft, equiped with refracting armour and jammers, near-silent motors and excellent aerodynamics, it seemed a huge cross between a standard transport and the American B-2 Spirit. Flanking the behemoth, like some sort of honor guard, were four GR-08 Panthers, high-tech plane based on the old 1973 GR-01 Jaguar, souped up with devices derive from the B-2 and the still-being-develloped EuroFighter Tycoon. Powerful fighters, able to reach Mach Four with ease, armed with two 30mm cannons and 12 internal hardpoints that weere loaded with concussion missiles. It was a rescue force: orderly, determined and deadly.

The interior of the ShadeArrow was just as calm and stubborn. There were eighteen men inside. All were arrayed in special kevlar suits, with microwave coms, powerful type 2 Berretas, Ak-47 Rifles, and, for four of them, FH-01 Laser cannons, which was the best of the best the SCD had in the form of handheld technology. These devices needed skill, care and were bulky. But watch out to anything or anyone getting in the beam's way.

As commander of the rescue team, Giorgio Castillo was busy giving out last-minute details.

"Remember that its Shadowlaw soldiers we'll be facing. That means they're not ordinary mercenaries or terrorists. They're well-trained, and they have good weaponry. The only true advantage we may have is that, since Mark uncovered that this was probably a scientific center, they don't have the best equipment. Still, remember, Laser Squad comes in, takes out enough defense armaments, and the rests follow. Can your squad do this, Steve?"

The Canadian nodded. "Just leave it to us. When were done, there won't be anything blocking the way in." his statement was followed by the short but enthusiastic response from the rest of Laser Squad. Giorgio nodded.

"Then the plan is simple: we go in, find our missing agent, and get the hell out with her as fast as we can make it! Understood." general assent...except from one man. The one who had never seemed to even listen to what was being said. Giorgio sighed and raised his voice to get his attention.

"Agent Storm," he said severely "do you understand the attack plan?"

No answer at first. Giorgio was about to repeat his question when Jeremy fixed him with his grey eyes. His face was still showing singns of strain, but there also was a new vitality present, relieving the pain that had been present. However, Giorgio did not like the vitality much more than the despair: it was driven hope, but also by, he felt, the knowledge that they were about to meet some of those who had made Cammy White suffer. Not that it was a mad look, but it was an extremely driven one.

For the present, Jeremy spoke. "Of course I understand it." he said as pleasantly as he could, although anyone could detect the wild edge to his voice. "Standard rescue: lasers first, entry, strike, departure. I'm in the first group in." He then resumed looking at nothing.

Steve shot him a meaningful look. The leader of the operation understood. Jeremy wasn't one to go to battle in such a state of mind. They had come to rely on him, not only because of his skills, but because of the man's ability to think under fire, to look at a battle logically, whether a street fight or an ops. In this instance, however, the steady undertone that Storm usually wore had gone down the drain, and it made him unreliable. However, they couldn't NOT have taken him along. Had they gone without him, he probably would've started demolishing the London Headquarters.

He had no qualms about the men that would be going in. Although they weren't Jeremys, Michaels or Julias, they were SCD soldiers that had undergone severe MI6 training and had quite a few ops under their belt. He was very certain that they were more than able to take on such a base.

Conversation started up again. After all, there were a few hours until they arrived. Steve motioned for him to hike to the other side of the small hangar, and he assented. He knew what the topic would be, but also knew Hemmerson had to talk it over. He wasn't disappointed.

"Are you certain about this?" Steve asked.

"Do we have a choice?" was the ironic retort.

"We shouldn't have brought him over with us. Any mission that goes after Shadowlaw is delicate, and in the state he's in..."

Giorgio cut him off impatiently. "I know, amigo, I know. But I was his senior and partner for a year, and I can tell you that I also KNOW there was no way we COULDN'T have brought him. He NEVER would have forgiven us." a slight smile "You may have brough him in, but you don't understand him very well."

The Canadian blew air through his nose. "Why is it so important to him, anyway?"

Giorgio almost laughed, but he was so incredulous he only stared, mouth agape. "Amigo," he breathed "Ye really have been out of the loop, have ye? Everyone else amongst the Elite SCD know these two fell in love hard without even realizing it. To Jeremy, its a matter of sanity, and a way to show her he cares. THAT'S how important this is for him!"

Steve frowned. "Love. It shouldn't exist in the military forces."

"Maybe, but it does, amigo. It does."

They may have continued on this talk for a while longer, but they both heard something uttered by a soldier that chilled their blood. It was an offhand comment, more like a joke or an encouragement, but the phrasing was fatal.

"Don't worry, Storm. We'll get your little whore back."

Both men turned, appalled, torn between the desire to throttle the fool who said the atrocious sentence, and charging forward to restrain a murdering fellow Elite. As they controlled themselves, the former did not happen. As for the latter, the element of violence came into play, only not the way they had though.

Storm simply turned his gaze toward the impolite soldier, his face immobile and serene. All was concentrated into his eyes. The bloodshot, blazing silver points gave off such wrath, such danger, that the fool blanched and lay back while the other who sat next to him squirmed.

"Do not. Ever. Call her that again. Ever." The voice was so void of emotion, it made it even scarier, for it lacked both the warmth and the mercy which was usual for this man. His statement done, he turned away from all of them, cutting off the attention he had for them. There was palpable relief for all involved. Steve grasped Giorgio by the shoulder. He looked alarmed.

"Don't tell me this was normal."

"It wasn't, no." he gave the recovering soldier a look of contempt. "What's the name of that idioto?"

"Greevers, I think."

"Make a note never to have this guy in a mission Jeremy also participates in."

Steve nodded in complete understanding. "What about Jeremy himself?"

Giorgio grinned wickedly. "He'll be alright in two hours. And I'll tell you plainly, I wouldn't want to be the Shadowlaw guys who'll have to meet him in the following battle. In fact, I rather pity them."

Only two hours to go, he thought at Jeremy encouragingly, and this nightmare ends, amigo.

* * * * * * * * * *
Thirty minutes later...

It hurts.

That was all the rationality that Cammy could come up with yet, and she could do that only because it was the truth. Every bit of her body throbbed, screamed, flamed or otherwise gave her waves upon waves of very real pain. At first she had tried not to scream when the soldiers - and, worst, sometimes Bison himself - hurt her, whether it was with fists, riffle butts, sticks or iron bars. She had held off for nearly a day, giving off no more than faint, involuntary groans. It had angered the Lord of Shadowlaw, and he had decided to use his Psycho Power at the end of that day. And that had been too much - a fiery, inescapable pain that jolted every part of your being, setting your mind afire with twisted thoughts of death and torture.

She had screamed then. And it had been a downward spiral from there on in, from pain to pain, beating to beating, until she seized to resist, utterly. Her hazy memories, that told her that Shadowlaw people were darn good torturers, proved accurate.

She'd tried to resist only once more when Bison, laughing, had given her a terribly memorable impression of being a punching bag, and had raped her. She had cursed him, spat at him, but in the end she couldn't do a thing as he penetrated her repeatedly, while taunting her in her mind. She had wished to die at that moment. The hopelessness was overpowering. Bison had been victorious from that moment on, althought she doggedly clung to what remained of her defiance and dignity.

Where was she now? She felt different. She wasn't upright, her wrists no longer felt like hot coals. Not standing upright. She tried to budge a little, and found that she couldn't. She then knew where she was. On an examination table, strap holding her at the wrists, ankles, arms, legs and neck. Not something that would have held her, had her body been at its peak.

But, as she was now, her battered body was unable to do any violent or sudden actions. Her chi was sluggish, and what she could take went to maintaining her. There was no escape. Not from here. None at all.

But this wasn't what despaired her the most, wasn't what made her grit her teeth, so much did she want to sob.

I will command you to kill that SCD man - Storm, is it? Bison had said. It had hit her to her core. No! she'd wanted to say, I'll never hurt him! She she had wanted to tell that bastard that, and much, much more. She didn't, she'd been through it. She remembered enough of the truth. Once brainwashed, she WOULD go to kill him, and Jeremy...he'd be too reluctant to fight, and would probably get killed. And THAT was killing her.

Death was far better than this...

"Hang on, Cammy! I'll get you out of there, I promise!"

She started as she heard those words. No one was in the medical room yet, but still, she had HEARD something. HIS voice! She remembered him talking about the time he had heard her, long before he even knew her. Could it be that these were his thoughts, carried over by a strong emotion? Perhaps. Perhaps not. It might be one of Bison's tricks

Yes, that was it. Bison. Giving her false hope. Just the kind of cruelty that was to be expected from that bastard. No, Jer couldn't have done that, couldn't have said that. It was impossible.

Was it?
* * * * * * * * * *

Twenty minutes later...

"My Lord Kale."

"We have received the message from the mole. Their defenses are weakened, some of their best soldiers are gone."

Kale was smiling as always, although his eyes were of ice. "Did the mole tell you about the defenses?"

The acolyte took his time answering. Damn the fool! Why the delay? How he missed Everick and his neutral straightforwardness. When his friend gave a report, nothing was ever wasted, no time was lost. He was thinking about giving some 'encouragement to the acolyte, but the young man seemed to regain his common sense just in time.

"It told that the outer perimeter would be cut off. Nothing could be done about the inner perimeter."

The Lord of the Limerick Lair thought fast. "How many do we have to go after that base?"

"Six hundred Circle soldiers, three thousand mercenaries. They would have no more, right now - with so many teams gone on missions and some of their best on the rescue operation, then eight hundred all in all, milord."

Kale walked back and forth for a moment, gauging the risks. He knew that attacking the SCD Headquarters went against the Elders' wishes, and that it migh bring the secretive Circle into an even bigger conflict. The smiling man cared not - he'd never held any fondness for his organization. All he wanted was to damage the SCD. Badly. A hit upon the SCD Headquarters would be a perfect show. Besides, he needed have to worry. This was all part of the plan.

Bison's plan.

He turned to the acolyte, his smile wide and confident. "Go and tell this to the ones commanding the army: I want nothing less than the utter annihilation of the SCD Headquarters. Kill all SCD officers in the compound! No mercy! Understood."

"Yes, milord."

"Then go now." The acolyte bowed and departed. Kale then walked out of the room he was in, and came face to face with a man. He was a surprising sight. All arrayed in white, with white hair, eyes as old as a mountain and yet a face and stature so young. A strange feel emanated from the man that would have made many quail.

Kale did not quail. Kale got angry.

"Who the bloody hell are you?!?" he asked, rageful and yet curious."

The man seemed to ignore his comment. "The child you name Dessara must not remain here. Send her elsewhere."

Kale was pissed now. This man DARED to come here, DARED to gave him orders. The Circle Lord growled, summoning his power, his eyes turning purple, crackles of energy emerging from his clenched fists. The strange man seemed utterly unimpress.

"You must follow what I say. The Fates demand it." was the ageless continuation.

The other man laughed. "And here is my answer!" he shouted, and launched his power.

The backlash was enormous. Kale was thrown against the wall, dazed by the force of the counter attack. Still unfazed, the white-garbed man - or was that GREY? - stood as if nothing had happened. He started to fade.

"You have been warned. Send the child elsewhere." he stated, rather imperiously. And with that, the man faded into thin air. Kale got back to his feet, pondering the incident.

What was the connection between Dessara and that man? What was he, anyway? Extremely powerful, to be sure, but beyond that? He couldn't seem to find the right answers, if there were answers to be found. Maybe it was just a lunatic, which seemed likely. Still, he'd never seen a man so strange...so aloof. He was impressive. And he could come back.

Kale decided at that moment to follow the weirdo's advice. He would send the baby to Everick, who'd give her to Bison. His brother might balk, buty might be intrigued enough by the encounter to keep the babe. Besides, Dessara his great powers. It would certainly appeal to the Master of Shadowlaw.

His decision made, Kale switched his thoughts to more a more pleasurable venture - the destruction of the SCD Headquarters. The attack would begin soon.

He hoped many of these fools would die.

* * * * * * * * * *

Two hours later...

The major Charles Brisby, fourty-eight year old MI6 veteran, Commander of the entire SCD and loyal servant of her Majesty, was being nagged by a feeling of foreboding, something that he couldn't explain, for it came from deep in his guts. However, he had learned, after over thirty years of military service, that trusting these 'gut' feelings could be - and had been - the difference between victory and defeat, between life and death. Consequently, he was feeling worried for no obvious reason. He hated that.

He tried to go over the events that led to that feeling. First there had been the rash of terrorist-related reports in England, France abd Germany, which had necessitated he dispatched manyof his teams. Next was Cammy White's tragic abduction by that damn Shadowlaw organisation, and the dragooning of many of his best men here in London, which eventually led to the departure of twenty of his best to a Shadowlaw Base in order to retrieve the Agent White. The official reason had been to take her back before she divulged any Top Secret information, but Brisby had seen through it - the real reason was far more personal. However, Simmons was the one who gave mission orders in London, and he had seen no reason to veto her. After all, he, Wolfman and other old comrades had done much the same when much younger.

All of these events were little facts, not really worthy of attention. However, if one viewed them as a whole, it amounted to a strange amount of coincidences - coincidences that had led to the drastic weakening of this compound. One could wonder at the portents, which pointed to an attack. He found that hard to believe - the SCD Headquarters still had many men and a defense system that was nearly two decades more advanced than the public knew about. Still, the possibility existed and as long as it did, he would check on things.

It was an occasion to stretch his legs, and he seized it. He stood up from a desk that seemed to be ever-cluttered with important papers moved to the door and opened it. Which act almost caused him to into Julia Simmons. Both agents, the older and the younger one, backed up a step, surprised. Then Brisby smiled.

"I'll never get used to you and your ever-silent steps, Agent Simmons." he said "I have to go check some things. Join me?"

The small but deadly woman gave a nod. "Yes, I will, Commander. I was coming to see you about the rescue operation." That was Julia. Soft, but direct, hiding the steel beneath her words. She had been London's sub-commander for three years, and never once had Briby regretted promotting her, for she was highly competent and emphatic.

They started off the hallway, in the direction of the primary control room. "According to the ETA I was given, they should be upon the Shadowlaw Base by now."

"Yes, sir."

"What is the usual complement of such a base? Sixty?"

"Actually, eighty, sir. It IS usually sixty, but its clear Bison has tightened security there."

He nodded. It was to be expected, but he suddenly felt a bit guilty, sendinga team where they would be outnumbered four-to-one. He only hoped that he wasn't going to lose any. They were SCD, much better trained than Shadowlaw grunts, and Storm, Castillo and Hemmerson were something else altogether. Still, he probably should have sent more men.

"What are their chances?" he asked at last. She hesitated, but he stopped and fixed her with his inflexible gaze.

"Sixty percent, ninety if they manage to get inside the base unnoticed."

"Humph...and what are the odds of THAT happening?"

"Well, sir...."

What the odds were supposed to be, they were never to know, for right at that moment, a slight tremor shook the building, while they heard a slight booming sound from outside. They were both unsteadied for a second, but quickly recovered. Brisby and Simmons exchanged a shock look, and then the SCD Commander rushed to the nearest comlink, punching in to the computer room.

"Mark, what the bloody hell was that?" he asked.

The scottish response was grim and alert. "Small missile impacted on the structure. Minimal damage."

"I want a full status report. Control room, enact the outer defenses! All SCD personel are to arm themselves and man the inner defense structures. Mark, communicate to London, get MI6, the army, anyone, and advise of our situation."

"Commander!" came Nemmi's voice. "This is Control Room. No Joy. I repeat, No Joy. Outer defense systems will not activate!"

"Communications are down, they're jamming us!"

So, he thought sardonically, I should've followed my damn guts more quickly. He squashed that frame of mind. Outer defenses were inoperable, communication was impossible, at least for the present. However, there were inner defenses systems that could be manned, and the walls of the compound could withstand a lot of punishment. With the eight hundred men and women remaining, they could withstand an assault. He tapped another link.

"Radar, how many bogies?"

"At least three thousand, sir! Moving for a direct assault!"

"No flanks?"

"No sir."

He turned to Simmons, who was looking at him with unnerved but professional eyes. No flanking. Direct assault. That could only mean one thing.

"They KNEW the outer defenses wouldn't activate." she stated. He nodded, he was thinking the same thing.

That meant a mole. Not only in the organisation but in the compound itself. Amongst eight hundred of the most trustworthy people there was in England. Hard pill to swallow. Very hard pill. But he had to swallow it, endure it, at least for now. He had orders to give right now. Time enough to find the traitor when things had been taken care of here. Three thousand. Just outside the capital. Determined fools. The soldiers stationed in London would arrive soon,backed by MI6 soldiers no doubt. All they had to do was hold a while.

Two other tremors. Time was running out. He pressed the comlink again.

"Mark, order all hands to battlestations. Then...find whoever sabotaged our defense systems."

"Aye, aye! To all personel: Battlestations! I repeat, all hands to battlestations. Prepare to repel assault. Repeat, battlestations, prepare to repel assault!"

He would continue for at least two minutes, so that everyone heard, even those off-shift. Brisby walked away from the comlink, grim but determined. He looked at the London sub-commander, and found the same steel. Yes, he had chosen well with this one.

"Lets go. When I created the SCD, I made sure I did not form an organisation of fools and wusses. I don't know who's against us and I care little. But these headquarters will not fall. Not as long as I still live." He gestured for her to follow him. They started to run toward the nearest armory. "I will make sure the fools never forget how SCDs can fight."

That was a vow he intended to keep.

* * * * * * * * * *

At the same time...

Shadowlaw Controller Jien watched his screens with a certain amount of boredom. Nothing exciting had ever happened at this facility, not in the ten years that it had existed, and it looked like it wasn't about to change. Figures. Why should it, anyway? There were so many jamming devices here, so many proyections, no one who shouldn't probably even had a clue that this place existed. It made for a very comfortable living, but not one that befitted the adventuresome. Unfortunately this was exactly what Jien was.

And, sadly, it was this habit to seek out trouble when Shadowlaw had no need for it that had convinced some higher-up to put him somewhere where he'd neither find nor cause any. What a bummer. He was a soldier, no some paper-pusher!

A blip went of unexpectedly, making him jump. He looked around. No one else. Not unexpected. Nothing ever happpened, so control room staff was always minimal. He tried to find where the blip was from. He discovered it came from the radar system. One blip, two, five, ten! What was that? He switched to the outer surveillance, and was surprised to find people disembarking from a very advanced-looking craft. Unused to such a sight, he could only gape.

"What in hell are those guys?" he cried, not expecting a response. He nearly jumped right out of his skin when one actually answered. A cold, young female voice, just behind him.

"Shadowlaw's Bane." she said.

He never even had a chance to turn around, never had a chance to activate the defenses or the alarms. Slender hand took hold of the side of his face, and, with a frightening precision, twisted his neck, nearly breaking his head off. It was a bare second of pain. Then Jien felt nothing more in this world.

Trouble had come to him, as he wanted. And he had paid the price.

He thus never saw a slender but athletic girl garbed in black push his body away in disgust, before eying the camera views and smiling.

"Well, about time. Welcome all." she said softly. And then she went to work on the communication device, working on the frequençy settings.

* * * * * * * * * *
At the same time...

Steve Hemmerson had taken point, hefting his heavy but powerful laser riffle. He was joined by the other two of Laser Squad, and then by Giorgio and Jeremy. They both looked as puzzled as he felt.

"No welcoming party yet. Its odd." said Jeremy, voicing what everyone must have been thinking. Giorgio nodded.

"Could it be a trick to lure us in, catch us unaware?" ventured another from Laser Squad.

Giorgio gave an hesitant shrug. "I find it doubtful. We've got dangerous firepower. Luring us in would be pretty big risk, bogger than meeting us before we're fully prepared."

Hemmerson mused silently. What was happening out there? He couldn't know.

"Lets be careful then." he stated "However, there is no reason why we shouldn't proceed as planned."

"I agree!" said Jeremy readily. Too readily, lacking cold logic. But it was a taken of his current frame of mind. At length Giogio raised his hand.

"Very well. We will proceed with..." he was startled when a voice came out of his earset. All heard the voice in their own, and where momentarily stunned.

"Hello." said a pleasant female voice that spoke with a definite japanese accent. "Please come in. Feel free to blow this hellhole to crap."

For a moment they floundered at this, then they all heard Jeremy give out a short laugh. "Ibuki, is that you or am I really going crazy?"

"Oh, I'm me. And you better get your american ass down here, you and your friends. There's plenty of rotten apples here, all waitng to be picked off!" the link was cut off. Again a moment of silence. Then Giorgio's voice that came, strong and determined.

"Dios! What are you all waiting for? Christmas?!? Laser Squad, take point. The rest follow. Target: the nearest damn door that can get us into that place! Come on, we got Shadowlaw bastardos to fry!"

He pointed toward the compound, almost angrily.

"MOVE OUT!!!" he bellowed.

And as one, they did.
__________________________________________

The next chapter: Two great battles! Nuff said ^_^

Hope you like it! I sure did like writing it!

Hoping for feedback and ideas! See you guys soon!

Jeremy