"Be Prepared." Boy Scout motto. (5)
Now, I was never a Boy Scout by any stretch of the imagination, but hey, that doesn't mean I can't pay attention when they give good advice.
Darien had been tranqu-darted enough in the past to know it was not a good thing in enemy territory. With a modicum of foresight spurred by experience, he persuaded his Keeper to make up a little instant insurance package to defend against such an attack. It was to protect the gland, of course. The argument worked! And, it sure came in handy in the present situation.
Before Darien had passed out, he reached into his pants' pocket and found the small nodule. He pushed it against his leg, jolting his system with a chemical shock that had him up and cloaked in an instant. As he bolted down the hall, Stark's group was dumbfounded.
"Let him go. He won't get far." Stark ordered. "Advise the front team." And he resumed issuing instructions.
Darien bolted back to the club, and began his search for Bobby. The sounds of the music and crowd bombarded him with more pain. The drugs coursing through his blood coupled with Quicksilver use made him feel dizzy, sick and disorientated.
He shed the Quicksilver and frantically searched for Hobbes.
"Side effects." he thought. "Ya just gotta love side effects."
What was it that Claire had said to him after his thieving impulses made him snag the first nodule from her work bench when she wasn't looking?
"It's just not ready yet, Darien. We'll need to do some serious testing before it goes into the field. There're several different tranquilizing agents. We don't know which one you are likely to get hit with and the drug interactions can be life threatening. Forget it, Darien. Not today."
Her words haunted him now along with the painful reminder that his sticky fingers always got him into big trouble.
"Note to self." he thought "No more stealing things. Anything. EVER!!!"
He struggled through the crowd, made it to door number two, and stumbled in. Madame Zaza's boys were right behind him, unhurried and dispassionate. He figured them for Terminator fans. His body was rebelling against the chemical cocktail in his system and he fell on his knees with a thud.
He looked up.
"Dahlink! You haf come to wisit me at last!" she said, looking up from her Tarot layout on the white coffee table before her.
"Albin! Renato! Help our young friend. I'm sure he'll love to reunite vith his Monsieur Hobbes!"
The thugs lifted Darien by the arms and planted him in a big fluffy chair. Now the room was spinning around him, and Madame Zaza seemed to melt and flow like the contents of a lava lamp.
"I haf a little surprise for you, my deahr." She swept a bracelet adorned arm over the table.
Darien saw his partner in miniature form on the table, trying to stay out of the way. He was no taller than a Tarot card.
"Fawkes!" he shouted. "I'm down here, buddy! It's me! Fawkes! They shrunk me! FAWKES!!!"
Fawkes slid off the chair and down on his knees again looking at his diminished partner.
"Oh, there you are! I'ffe bin lookin' fur you!" Darien slurred.
"Fawkes! Fawkesy! It's me! LOOK! Le Phone SHRUNK me, dammit! Fawkes!"
"Bobby! What did you do? Take the lifts outta your shoes?"
"Argh! Fawkes! What's wrong with you?"
"They didn't shrink you. They just put me way up here...in the rafters." He twirled his finger around, pointing to the ceiling. "Now, lisshion! Shark.Stark is here, and heeeth's theen me! We gotta get outta here."
"Fawkes! Dammit! Snap outta it! And, just stay the hell away from the Spider Woman,(6) would ya? She in on this!"
Darien's back went straight at the very mention of "spider" anything and he looked furtively around the room.
"Hi there, SIR!" he said pointing at a very bemused Madame Zaza. "Yeah, I KNOW what you are! It's OK. I'm very liberal! I say, what ever makes you happy, ya know?"
"Sank you, Dahrien." She chuckled.
Darien broke into a ripple of giggles. "Hoo hoo! Where DID you get that hokey, accent?!" he gushed. "He he! I haven't heard anything that fake since Kevin Costner did Robin Hood!"
Zaza's eyes narrowed. She'd had enough of playing with her prey. Time to strike.
Arnaud de Ferhn had entered the room, enjoying the show.
"Arnaud! Wow!" spouted Darien. "We'd heard you hung out with a Banana Hammock! Oh, and me without my camera."
"Vel, Arnaud, deahr, here you have your two super spies. Sanks to your latest toy, you haf your Monsieur Hobbes, e's cut down to size and sanks to alcohol, you haf your Monsieur Fawkes."
"He's not drunk, but close enough."
"Hepless as kittenz! You must be pleased wit your vork."
"I'll be happier when they're both neutralized.
"Gentlemen," he addressed the thugs, "if you'll be so good as to remove Mr. Fawkes to the laboratory, I would be most grateful."
Zaza's crystal ball hadn't revealed the mystic powers of Quicksilver madness. It had been triggered by the cocktail of drugs in Darien's system and the time he'd spent invisible.
He was in the full throws of QSM just as they advanced on him. He was powered by pure adrenaline power, as he easily overpowered both monsters at once, smashing their heads together. He turned his blazing eyes toward the cowering pair of Arnaud and Zaza. They beat a hasty retreat through a door. Darien futilely threw himself against it as the bolt clicked into place.
His murderous impulse not sated, he turned his rampage toward the coffee table that held his mini-partner and the crystal ball. Hobbes was in a panic, hiding behind the ball, which gave his image a fun house mirror quality. He watched as Darien's hand, enlarged by the ball, reached for his diminutive form.
"Hey, 'boyfriend'!" Darien croaked. "We need to talk! I think I wanna break up."
He grabbed for the crystal ball and smashed it down with drug enhanced force onto the table barely missing his fleeing partner. The shower of razor sharp splinters managed to bypass Hobbes as he leapt off the table and aimed for the couch. As he did so, he became full size. The force pushed him over the back of the couch and up-ended it, making it a temporary shield against his rampaging friend.
Darien's lust for blood was still not satisfied. He popped his head behind the couch, startling Hobbes for all he was worth.
The tall man grabbed at Hobbes' neck, but Darien was not the only one who followed Boy Scout mottoes. He broke Darien's death grip and slapped another nodule against Darien's neck in one swift move. This one contained an emergency supply of Counteragent; enough to quell Darien's madness and put him under until he could get the full dose that Hobbes had stashed in Golda.
Now, I was never a Boy Scout by any stretch of the imagination, but hey, that doesn't mean I can't pay attention when they give good advice.
Darien had been tranqu-darted enough in the past to know it was not a good thing in enemy territory. With a modicum of foresight spurred by experience, he persuaded his Keeper to make up a little instant insurance package to defend against such an attack. It was to protect the gland, of course. The argument worked! And, it sure came in handy in the present situation.
Before Darien had passed out, he reached into his pants' pocket and found the small nodule. He pushed it against his leg, jolting his system with a chemical shock that had him up and cloaked in an instant. As he bolted down the hall, Stark's group was dumbfounded.
"Let him go. He won't get far." Stark ordered. "Advise the front team." And he resumed issuing instructions.
Darien bolted back to the club, and began his search for Bobby. The sounds of the music and crowd bombarded him with more pain. The drugs coursing through his blood coupled with Quicksilver use made him feel dizzy, sick and disorientated.
He shed the Quicksilver and frantically searched for Hobbes.
"Side effects." he thought. "Ya just gotta love side effects."
What was it that Claire had said to him after his thieving impulses made him snag the first nodule from her work bench when she wasn't looking?
"It's just not ready yet, Darien. We'll need to do some serious testing before it goes into the field. There're several different tranquilizing agents. We don't know which one you are likely to get hit with and the drug interactions can be life threatening. Forget it, Darien. Not today."
Her words haunted him now along with the painful reminder that his sticky fingers always got him into big trouble.
"Note to self." he thought "No more stealing things. Anything. EVER!!!"
He struggled through the crowd, made it to door number two, and stumbled in. Madame Zaza's boys were right behind him, unhurried and dispassionate. He figured them for Terminator fans. His body was rebelling against the chemical cocktail in his system and he fell on his knees with a thud.
He looked up.
"Dahlink! You haf come to wisit me at last!" she said, looking up from her Tarot layout on the white coffee table before her.
"Albin! Renato! Help our young friend. I'm sure he'll love to reunite vith his Monsieur Hobbes!"
The thugs lifted Darien by the arms and planted him in a big fluffy chair. Now the room was spinning around him, and Madame Zaza seemed to melt and flow like the contents of a lava lamp.
"I haf a little surprise for you, my deahr." She swept a bracelet adorned arm over the table.
Darien saw his partner in miniature form on the table, trying to stay out of the way. He was no taller than a Tarot card.
"Fawkes!" he shouted. "I'm down here, buddy! It's me! Fawkes! They shrunk me! FAWKES!!!"
Fawkes slid off the chair and down on his knees again looking at his diminished partner.
"Oh, there you are! I'ffe bin lookin' fur you!" Darien slurred.
"Fawkes! Fawkesy! It's me! LOOK! Le Phone SHRUNK me, dammit! Fawkes!"
"Bobby! What did you do? Take the lifts outta your shoes?"
"Argh! Fawkes! What's wrong with you?"
"They didn't shrink you. They just put me way up here...in the rafters." He twirled his finger around, pointing to the ceiling. "Now, lisshion! Shark.Stark is here, and heeeth's theen me! We gotta get outta here."
"Fawkes! Dammit! Snap outta it! And, just stay the hell away from the Spider Woman,(6) would ya? She in on this!"
Darien's back went straight at the very mention of "spider" anything and he looked furtively around the room.
"Hi there, SIR!" he said pointing at a very bemused Madame Zaza. "Yeah, I KNOW what you are! It's OK. I'm very liberal! I say, what ever makes you happy, ya know?"
"Sank you, Dahrien." She chuckled.
Darien broke into a ripple of giggles. "Hoo hoo! Where DID you get that hokey, accent?!" he gushed. "He he! I haven't heard anything that fake since Kevin Costner did Robin Hood!"
Zaza's eyes narrowed. She'd had enough of playing with her prey. Time to strike.
Arnaud de Ferhn had entered the room, enjoying the show.
"Arnaud! Wow!" spouted Darien. "We'd heard you hung out with a Banana Hammock! Oh, and me without my camera."
"Vel, Arnaud, deahr, here you have your two super spies. Sanks to your latest toy, you haf your Monsieur Hobbes, e's cut down to size and sanks to alcohol, you haf your Monsieur Fawkes."
"He's not drunk, but close enough."
"Hepless as kittenz! You must be pleased wit your vork."
"I'll be happier when they're both neutralized.
"Gentlemen," he addressed the thugs, "if you'll be so good as to remove Mr. Fawkes to the laboratory, I would be most grateful."
Zaza's crystal ball hadn't revealed the mystic powers of Quicksilver madness. It had been triggered by the cocktail of drugs in Darien's system and the time he'd spent invisible.
He was in the full throws of QSM just as they advanced on him. He was powered by pure adrenaline power, as he easily overpowered both monsters at once, smashing their heads together. He turned his blazing eyes toward the cowering pair of Arnaud and Zaza. They beat a hasty retreat through a door. Darien futilely threw himself against it as the bolt clicked into place.
His murderous impulse not sated, he turned his rampage toward the coffee table that held his mini-partner and the crystal ball. Hobbes was in a panic, hiding behind the ball, which gave his image a fun house mirror quality. He watched as Darien's hand, enlarged by the ball, reached for his diminutive form.
"Hey, 'boyfriend'!" Darien croaked. "We need to talk! I think I wanna break up."
He grabbed for the crystal ball and smashed it down with drug enhanced force onto the table barely missing his fleeing partner. The shower of razor sharp splinters managed to bypass Hobbes as he leapt off the table and aimed for the couch. As he did so, he became full size. The force pushed him over the back of the couch and up-ended it, making it a temporary shield against his rampaging friend.
Darien's lust for blood was still not satisfied. He popped his head behind the couch, startling Hobbes for all he was worth.
The tall man grabbed at Hobbes' neck, but Darien was not the only one who followed Boy Scout mottoes. He broke Darien's death grip and slapped another nodule against Darien's neck in one swift move. This one contained an emergency supply of Counteragent; enough to quell Darien's madness and put him under until he could get the full dose that Hobbes had stashed in Golda.