Before this next chapter, I'd like to explain something about the character of Leet. Some people have expressed concern that he may be a Marty Sue. I can assure you this is not true. The character was thought out specifically for the purposes of the story. I made him a teenager, because that's generally when most people are supposed to wake up. I made him intelligent, and a bit of a geek, to reflect how is mind is like a computer (which, therefore, makes him similar to the agents). I gave him a sense of humor, because that seems like the only way somebody in his position would be able to stay sane. And, while some have expressed concern involving the chapter in which he loads a ridiculous amount of information into his head, it seemed like the logical thing for the character to do, as it would reflect his constant thirst for knowledge. Well, I hope that's been cleared up, and on with the show.

Chapter Eleven Nice Timing

Behind Leet, the prostitute and her customer became agents. He could hear the synthetic hum as the transformation began, and he started to run. Henderson and Johnson climbed out of bed, and ran after him. Leet hazarded a quick glanced over his shoulder, and leapt down the stairs, running past the clerk. Agent Daniels replaced the clerk, and hurried after Leet.

As he ran out into the street, Leet heard a ringing sound, and jumped. It was coming from his pants pocket, and he pulled out a cell phone as he ran, fumbling to open it.

"Leet, I've got good news, and I've got bad news," Link muttered over the phone.

"Tell me the bad news first!" Link shouted, jumping over the hood of a car.

"The only exit I've got available is . . . you're not going to believe this . . . in a museum. The Jefferson Arts and History Museum."

"What floor?"

He heard Link type something in on the other line, and sigh. "Top floor."

"Crap."

"Yeah. Want that good news now?"

"Please." Link saw traffic approaching, and had to jump over the hood of a car, landing on the sidewalk and ignoring the shouts of the driver behind him.

"I've got another rebel coming your way, this one heavily armed. I'm with her operator on the other line right now."

"Do I know this person?" "Maybe. Some orphan named Arwen. She's about . . . one block away from you, headed in your direction."

"Wonderful," Leet grumbled. "How far is the museum?"

"Just a couple blocks. Keep heading in that direction."

"How much is admission?"

"Not funny."

Leet stuffed the phone back in his pocket, and paused. He could hear the hum of another agent loading up, the roar of an engine. He jumped into the air, and saw an SUV pass underneath him, driven by an agent.

"Why are all the maniacs driving the SUVs these days?" he grumbled, hitting the ground again. The car crashed into a wall, and Agent Johnson rolled out, firing his gun. Leet continued running.

A man standing next to his hot dog stand was replaced by Agent Daniels, who stepped directly in Leet's path, drawing his gun. Leet froze, and put his hands up, as the barrel of the gun brushed against his abdomen. With his free hand, Daniels reached into his pocket, and took out the syringe, smiling.

"Please, stand perfectly still," Daniels suggested. "That will make this easier on all of us."

"Leet, DUCK!"

Leet ducked at the sound of Arwen's voice, and a volley of bullets shot through the space Daniels had previously occupied. The agent dodged all the bullets, but gave Arwen enough time to toss another gun in Leet's direction. When Agent Daniels stopped dodging, it was Leet who was pointing the gun at his enemy's abdomen.

"Tell me," Leet gasped, "what's the minimum distance from a gun at which an agent can dodge bullets from that gun?"

"Depends on the gun," Daniels replied. Leet glanced down at the gun he was holding.

"How 'bout a standard Desert Eagle?"

Daniels named a figure in inches, then immediately converted it to the metric system.

"Hm. Oh dear," Leet muttered. "The current range is considerably smaller than that."

He fired the gun. Daniels was replaced by a surprised hot dog vendor, who slumped to the ground, unconscious. Leet stuffed the gun in his pocket, and glanced at Arwen, who was running towards him. Much to his surprise, she quickly embraced him. Leet, unsure of how to respond, went completely rigid.

"Thank god," she muttered, letting go of him. "That was a close one." She brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, and Leet cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Uh, where'd you get all the hardware?" he asked.

"Oh, Lieutenant Ghost gave it to me on my way out of the Oracle's. He could tell I was in a hurry, so . . ."

"You ran straight here from the Oracle's?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Did she say something about me?"

"She said you were in danger, and that . . . you needed me."

Leet nodded, surprised. "Oh." He paused. "Uh, come on, I know where the exit is."

He started walking briskly, and Arwen caught up alongside him. "It's in that museum, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, it is." A banner attached to a streetlight caught his attention, and he glanced up.

JAHM EXHIBIT: NINJAS AND SAMURAI; THE WARRIORS OF FEUDAL JAPAN

Leet stared up at the banner, and grinned. "Arwen," he muttered. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"If the other agents follow us there," Arwen began.

"Time to put that kendo to good use."