Chapter Thirty-Four: Investigations

            Megacity 5 was in a lot of trouble that night, but two men who were blissfully oblivious to it all were Gate and Isoc. Gate's local base was far from Hunter HQ or the Megacity Army base, and no one bothered to send distress signals to him, since he was not a legitimate military force.

            Tonight, though, the lack of interruptions was a godsend for the scientists, at least for now. They had two operations going at the same time, and they needed all their concentration focused on the action. Both were fairly haggard already at this time of night, but both knew that rest was a luxury that was well beyond their grasp.

            At the moment things were looking good. The UNDINE team had last reported that everything was fine and good, and down in Brazil Yammark was getting in position with his units. The Brazilian air force was also getting things going, and the three jet fighters that had been tasked to the mission were just about ready to begin their night's work.

***

            Most pilots still dreaded night flying, even with the mainly computerized aircrafts they flew. Computers didn't need light to see, but the pilots much preferred to be able to see everything they were flying into.

            But dawn was breaking, and that was reassuring for Alejandro Cortez, the leader of the strike force that would bomb Split Mushroom into oblivion…or so they hoped.

            Cortez was a career pilot who had flown in many an airplane, but this one here was his favorite. Its technical name was the RA-90, a craft that Brazil had recently purchased in bulk from the European Commonwealth. It was the current rage as far as stealth and aerodynamics, capable of pulling off the most nimble maneuvers for a full-sized fighter jet. This was no puny Raven, Cortez liked to say, referring to the mini-jets they used up north in the System. The RA-90 specialized in dropping out of the sky, showering its targets with flaming death, and escaping back into the shadows. This had made way for its affectionate nickname: the Raider.

            Cortez sat in his Raider's cockpit now, rolling onto the base runway. As far as he knew this would be a cut and dry mission. He and his two wingmen would approach the target and then the Raiders would…well, raid. The only tricky detail was that there was a ground force moving in nearby, for some reason. Therefore Cortez and his comrades couldn't use any really destructive elements, and so were limited to the effective yet less satisfying Sidewinders that they carried under their Raiders' wings. In the Megacity System, full sized Sidewinders would be called overkill. Down here, Cortez thought, Sidewinders were merely secondary weapons. It was amazing how their northern neighbor had survived this long with such a wimpy military, Cortez reflected as he fired up his engines.

            Well, it didn't concern him. What did concern him was a Maverick base many miles ahead in the jungle. Cortez, like most humans, didn't much care for Mavericks, and wanted nothing more than to bring the assholes to the gates of Hell for daring to nest in his country. And that he would do, the pilot thought with a smile. It had been years since their army had actually had to do anything, and it was gratifying to be leading the assault that would change things.

            The Raider screamed as it lifted off, but shortly after the noise died down considerably as its stealth engine programs kicked in, and it joined the diminishing blackness of the skies. Cortez had to smile at the rising sun. It would be a wake up call that the Mavericks would never forget.

            Julio Gomez swatted a mosquito as robotically as a mechaniloid. He'd put up with the things all his life, and his brain only comprehended that one action when a mosquito was detected on his person.

            Even more automatic were his responses to the noises coming from the forest around him. His eyes snapped sharply towards wherever the sound was coming from and his fingers tightened around his assault rifle. He knew it was just wildlife…probably. But he was far too uptight at the moment to be anything but paranoid. He was a fighter, sure, but he was also a human, and he was invading the lair of Mavericks. Sure, most of him burned with the desire to really hurt these enemies of his race, but another part of him was quite nervous about what would happen if they failed. Falling into Maverick hands was not Gomez's idea of fun. He planned to be extra careful on this mission, which, he thought, wasn't a bad idea anyway.

            Manny Rodriguez was surer of himself. The leader of Yammark's second platoon had no doubts about what was going to happen: the planes would come, the planes would leave, and he would go in to clean up the mess. Yammark was coordinating things from above, in a hovercraft, and if things got rough he'd move in and join the party himself. Rodriguez was privately worried about someone shooting down the hovercraft, but he figured Commander Yammark had plenty of backup plans in order. Everything would work fine. With Yammark, it always did.

            Commander Yammark himself was both anxious and confident. He was confident that his troops would do the job right, and he knew that the air force would come through, but his anxiety came from the constant fear that what if, in the middle of all the chaos that was about to ensue, something went wrong? To this point, his field agents hadn't had a problem with things going wrong, except for the last incident in this place, when the Breaker had spotted Yammark's spy drone. How would they handle themselves if something went very awry? Would they have the sense to sort things out and right themselves?

            Of course they would, Yammark told himself, staring down from the hovercraft he'd chosen to coordinate the mission from. And if they had trouble, Yammark would fly down to help. He was only using the hovercraft because its onboard computers made communication with the units easier. If worse came to worse, he had a swarm of fighter drones ready for his use. For now, though, all his units reported that they were in place, and so he had another call to make.

            "Commander Yammark to Control, over."

            "Control reads you, over."

            "All units in place. Awaiting jet fighters, over."

            "Roger," Isoc replied calmly. "We will contact you again, over."

            "Well?" Gate asked from the other side of the room.

            "All's well," Isoc reported, crossing over to another monitor. "The UNDINE crew reports nothing out of the ordinary."

            "Well then let's get them going," Gate decided. "If the Mavericks see the Hunters massing in front of their base, security will tighten. I see no reason to give them more time to prepare for our arrival."

            "Agreed." Isoc turned to send the order, but stopped cold. "Well now, what's this?"

            "What's what?" Gate asked, standing straight.

            "Control, this is Wolfang! Anyone there?"

            "We're here," Isoc responded on the communicator. "What's your status?"

            "You won't believe this, Isoc." Wolfang sounded out of breath. "The frickin' ground split open, and a frickin' airship just flew out of it."

            "What's that?" Isoc frowned, and Gate stepped up and took the communicator from him.

            "Wolfang, you said an airship?"

            "Yeah, boss," Wolfang responded. "A big one, too. Almost spotted us. We just heard some sounds we think are combat related."

            "You're saying the airship fired on the Hunters?"

            "Something like that, I'd wager."

            "I see…" Gate's gut feeling suddenly became very unpleasant. "Well what are you three up to?"

            "Blaze checked out the crack. It turns out it's really the door to a hidden underground garage…we think this'll take us right to our destination."

            "You're serious?" Gate blinked. "It's right there?"

            "I think this is what UNDINE really is, boss," Wolfang responded gravely. "Maybe before it was a code lab, but now the Mavericks have converted it into something else entirely."

            Gate pondered that one for at least thirty seconds. "The door…is it still open?"

            "The chasm in the earth, you mean? Yeah, it's still there, though I imagine they'll be trying to close it soon."

            "Get in there," Gate said sharply, somewhat to Isoc's surprise. "Get in there, all three of you, before it's too late. Execute the mission now, hear me? Right the hell now!"

            "Roger that," said a somewhat satisfied Blizzard Wolfang.

            "Are you sure about this?" Isoc asked once the link was broken. "This is an unknown variable."

            "I know that," Gate responded tiredly. "But what else can we do? They left the door open for us, so let's march on in. I'm getting the feeling, Isoc, that the sooner our boys get out of that place, the better off they'll be. Now, in the meantime, I'm gonna try to raise Hunter Headquarters. If it's an airship on the loose, that's something they need to know about."

            "You're probably right," Isoc acknowledged, and Gate headed off for yet another communications uplink. Isoc rested his head in his hands and let out a long breath. Things had been going so well up to now. Too well, he realized. He was a man who liked things to work like they were supposed to. If they didn't, then he became nervous. Now all of a sudden the UNDINE mission was something else entirely…and if there were no codes to recover or destroy, what were the Investigators doing there, anyway? Spying? That was a job for the Hunters, not the true believers Gate had managed to put together after years of searching.

            He was brought out of his thought process by a sudden curse from his boss. Isoc turned to see Gate sitting at the console with his face blank.

            "What is it?" Isoc asked at last.

            "They're not answering," Gate responded quietly.

            "What do you mean?" Isoc asked incredulously. "They have several backup generators for power. They should at least have something that can receive your signal!"

            "They're not answering," Gate repeated, and Isoc realized the gravity of the scenario. "Jesus…do you think?"

            "The nukes?" Isoc knew about these. "No, sir, we'd have heard or felt that, even far as we are from the center of town. It can't be that."

            "Then what is it?" Gate wondered aloud.

            "That's anyone's guess," Isoc replied, turning slowly and heading for the door. "But I'll be damned if I can't find out."

***

            Blizzard Wolfang turned to Ground Scarabich and gave him a curt nod. "It's time."

            Scarabich nodded back and they both looked to the itchy Blaze Heatnix. The phoenix Reploid grinned a big beaky grin and threw them a thumbs-up. The mission was on, at last!

            Heatnix had already explored the chasm that led down into the UNDINE site, and they'd determined that the jump down would not kill any of them. A proper military force would have executed a proper and thorough and above all cautious assault…but the Investigators were not a proper military force. They were a cadre of true believers in world peace, and sometimes for peace you had to make fire. Blaze Heatnix knew all about making fire, and in he went, diving down like a twisting, flaming tornado into the depths of whatever awaited them below, throwing caution to the wind. Wolfang followed suit, grinning toothily and springing nimbly into the hole, claws extended and ready to rip through anything that might by waiting for him. Scarabich produced a laser machine pistol from an armor slot and hopped into the chasm. On his way down he gathered local particles and smashed them together beneath him, forming a ball for him to land on.

            When Dr. Doppler had managed UNDINE, it had been a secret lab used for decoding and encoding. Doppler had been a master with coding, and try as they might no Reploid designer could create a machine with a CPU as advanced as Doppler's. Doppler had been one of those "accidental" geniuses, someone who got his brains from a glitch, or something equally unlikely and unplanned. As a result people couldn't just mass-produce Dr. Dopplers to solve all the worlds' problems; they didn't know what made Doppler Doppler.

            When he died, Doppler's labs for the most part remained alive without him. The technicians manning UNDINE fled the site soon after word of their mentor's demise reached them, and the Hunters moved in shortly after. What they found was startling evidence that suggested that Doppler may have cracked their entire coding structure, and as a result decided to destroy all of Doppler's notes as well as the UNDINE lab itself. Unfortunately the Hunter demolition crew was not sufficiently skilled, and the underground cavern that housed UNDINE did not collapse as planned, though the Hunters hadn't figured that out until it was too late. Even worse, their plans to recode all their major systems didn't take place as quickly as they should have, and were delayed further with the dawn of the Repliforce uprising. The problem was forgotten, buried under the other issues of the times, and no one ever thought to bring it up again. Then, Sigma came to the Catskills, and everything changed.

            The decision to build Seraph Castle close to Hunter Headquarters came from the big man himself, and it only made sense. For Sigma's Gallagher plan to work, their base had to be reasonably close to the Hunter HQ. The decision to place the base in the Catskills was subject to heavier debate, but it won out due to its defensive capabilities. It was Cyber Peacock, however, who all but forced Sigma to build the castle at this particular spot, even when there were other defensibly superior locations available. No one knew at first why Kujacker had wanted to come here so badly, but his reasoning soon became clear when the bird presented Sigma and The Team with Doppler's old coding lab, which the Hunters had code-named UNDINE. The lab, while not destroyed, was very well buried, and so it was anyone's guess how Peacock had known about the place. The bird's closer friends, such as Storm Eagle, could comment about how Peacock seemed different since his defeat in the fourth uprising…almost like he was sharing his secrets with someone else, who was returning the favor with juicy tidbits like UNDINE's location. Also, Peacock had entered the lab first and it was a while before he let anyone inside after him. Sigma was slightly suspicious, but Peacock had always been an odd one, and more often than not Sigma had found that it was more productive for his cause to just let the avian do his own thing.

            While Kujacker was wallowing in whatever dark secrets were still inside UNDINE, the Maverick engineer named Revolver was scrutinizing the cavern made by the Hunter demolition crew and deciding that it'd be a prime spot for a secret garage. He and his crew began converting the place into Gallagher's womb, and installed the gateway above. By this time Cyber Peacock had absorbed most of UNDINE's knowledge and left the small lab section to rot while he began using his newfound knowledge to hack into Hunter networks. Thus, the lab itself was a small extension of Revolver's garage, which was now vacant except for a few technicians who were closing up shop and monitoring their baby's progress on viewscreens.

            This was the situation when Blaze Heatnix came screaming down from above, bearing with him the Onslaught From Hell.

            Chief among the remaining technicians was a Maverick named Billo. He was the first one to look up and spot the flaming devil, and it was the last thing he ever saw. Blaze Heatnix halted his ferocious dive bomb and slashed his arms out in front of him. With a cry of "Magma Blade!" arcs of fire flew from the avian towards Billo, carving him to ribbons. Heatnix didn't stop there. He dove down upon two technicians on the ground, who were by now shouting in alarm and reaching for their weapons. The phoenix grinned and sent another Magma Blade attack flying at them, while at the same time he sped towards the nearest one in a flaming bodily crash attack. The Mavericks managed to dodge the first attack, but the second one caught its target off guard and damaged the unarmored Reploid beyond repair. Heatnix made sure of this by stamping his clawed, flaming feet in the enemy's chest and pulling him up into the air. The phoenix's wings beat hard with a fiery red aura, and the Investigator grinned at the second Maverick, who was trying to line up a shot with his laser pistol. Heatnix charged the body below him with fire and flung his legs outward, throwing the first Maverick into the other. Another cry of "Magma Blade!" ended the fight, and with a content grin Heatnix turned to find his comrades.

            Blizzard Wolfang was more reserved. He landed on his feet and spotted no targets close enough for a melee attack. However he did see one Maverick rushing towards Blaze Heatnix, and Wolfang took immediate action. The wolf got down on all four legs and rushed towards his prey, growling menacingly enough to get the Maverick to turn and look and finally raise his gun to fire. Wolfang leapt clear to the right, dodging the blast latching onto the wall with his clawed hands and feet. Growling at the enemy he exhaled extremely cold breath mixed with short bursts of hydrogen, producing a large energized ice crystal. After the second of generation he shot the projectile straight at his opponent's chest. It struck true, exploding on contact and throwing the Maverick to the floor. Wolfang darted over and made sure his enemy was dead before moving to join Heatnix.

            Ground Scarabich found that most of the fighting was over when he rolled into the room, but he did encounter two enemies trying to escape. The first one went too far before realizing what Scarabich was doing and was crushed underneath the moving ball of stuff that Scarabich had generated earlier. The second one the beetle gunned down with his machine pistol, firing wildly from atop the ball like a madman; Scarabich never worried about ammo. Then, in hindsight, he began to shoot out the various cameras that were positioned around the room. Damn, he thought. Now the people monitoring security would know about them. Oh well.

            Wolfang, Scarabich, and Heatnix traded looks when the sounds of carnage stopped. Satisfied with their quick and painless takedown, they spread out to search for any hidden Mavericks. A minute later three shouts of "Clear!" echoed throughout the UNDINE cavern, and Wolfang looked to Scarabich, signaling the scarab to do his thing. The gold plated Investigator got right to work, exploring the garage in its entirety and looking for the target laboratory.

            He found it in the midst of rubble probably left from the initial Hunter bombing. The lab room was now quite small, consisting of just a bunch of deactivated computer consoles and some rusty swivel chairs. Scarabich grunted at the sore sight and began to unpack the demolition kit he'd brought with him to destroy the lab. The theory was to destroy the code mainframes before anyone had the chance to use them, but Scarabich and anyone else with half a brain knew that the Mavericks had already taken the bounty. This seemed redundant, the beetle thought as he planted explosive charges on each of the computers. Still, a job was a job, and so far things were going smoothly.

            That stopped when he got to the largest computer. He raised his arm to plant the final charge, but upon touching the mainframe Ground Scarabich stopped cold. His hand began to shake, and a cold feeling swept down through his entire body. His legs began to quake, and he wondered at himself. What was this, all of a sudden? Why was his body betraying him? His mind was all right, but the rest of him—

            The incident caused him to drop the still inactive charge to the floor and clutch at his head while grunting in something that wasn't quite pain but was alarming nonetheless. Scarabich spent half a minute in a strange Hell where bright flashes were his only reality. As time went on and the flashes repeated themselves, something began to change. Scarabich didn't know if it was just the repeated exposure or if the flashes were slowing down, but he could now clearly make out images…and they were nothing he would ever have expected.

            Scarabich saw Cyber Peacock standing there before him, the colorful bird's head thrown back and engaged in maniacal laughter. The normally frail Maverick seemed to radiate power, and for the first time in his life Scarabich was afraid of a peacock. Then Cyber's tail feathers snapped into position, and from the gemmed tips there flew the strangest lasers Scarabich had ever seen. He had studied each Maverick Boss in Gate's computer network, and he knew full well that Peacock's lasers were fairly weak and unconcentrated, meant more as a spread attack than anything else. His real skill was his specialized Aiming Laser, after all. But the rays of light that sprang from the Maverick's tail now were huge, thick masses of pulsating energy that weren't quite lasers at all in the usual sense. They were rather like short bursts of power, but incredible power, power that writhed through the air like an advancing cluster of wraiths, twisting and turning and homing in on Scarabich's position…

            …But when the impact came, there wasn't any feeling, though the image showed Scarabich that he was being pushed into some other realm, where all he could see was…red, he realized. It was all red, a dark, bloody red color that made his blood run cold.

            Then there came a voice, the strangest voice Scarabich had ever heard. But then, he wasn't really hearing, was he? No, he thought, this was something beyond his senses. The Sigma Virus? Could it be? That was the worst-case scenario, Scarabich thought. But the voice was not Sigma's, and it had no defining qualities to it. It wasn't a whisper, but neither was it a shout. It did not imply a very specific gender, though Scarabich found himself picturing a male behind the words. The voice was not bass or baritone, nor was it harsh or cold or warm or friendly. It was just a voice, and it seemed to be speaking to Scarabich…though the Investigator couldn't even be sure of that. Throughout the swirl of words the Investigator managed to pick out individual words, which confused him further. The voice was speaking constantly, but only the words that it seemed to want Scarabich to hear were the ones that came through audibly.

            "I…am…"

            "What?" Scarabich thought, hoping his thoughts translated into words in whatever realm his mind had been sucked into. "What are you?"

            "I am…war!"

            The effects of those words somehow slammed into Scarabich with physical force. It jarred the beetle, and he felt it even through his mental prison. "You are war?" the Investigator managed to wonder. "What does…that mean?"

            There was silence, and it seemed to Scarabich that he was being searched somehow from the inside out. He felt a presence probing at his mind, but it did not seem like the Sigma Virus. It wasn't like Scarabich had any experience with that plague, but he somehow just knew that this wasn't the program that used Sigma as its host. Then, finally, the invader had made his decision and it didn't seem very interested in Scarabich anymore.

            "You…infidel."

            "Excuse me?" the beetle thought back, retaining enough presence of mind to become annoyed.

            "Don't try to stop me," the invader said simply after a few more seconds of silence. "It will be a waste of effort."

            And then Scarabich was thrown back into reality with a speed that left all his systems disoriented. When the beetle finally came back to his senses he found himself staring at the large computer that had started this whole mess. His body was back under his own command, and all sensations from the experience failed. Then, acting quite suddenly, Scarabich drew his machine pistol and riddled the computer with shots until it was nothing more than a useless stack of shredded steel.

            "Infidel," Scarbich scoffed. "Whatever you say, pal." But he was more apprehensive than he let on. Whatever had just happened, Scarabich couldn't explain it, and that unnerved him because he was one who could find an explanation for just about anything.

            Scarabich hurried out of the haunting enclosure and rejoined Blizzard Wolfang in the garage, where it was both less dark and less claustrophobic. The wolf turned to ask his comrade how things had gone, but his voice failed him when he saw Scarabich's face. Scarabich just stared right back for a few seconds before sighing.

            "I'm all right, and the job is done." He shivered, perhaps because of the cold, perhaps because of something else. "Are we ready to blow this joint yet?"

            "No," Wolfang replied, much to his friend's discomfort. Blizzard motioned towards a long hallway at the other end of the garage.

            "Where's it lead?" Scarabich asked after seeing it.

            "No idea, Ground. But Blaze is gonna let us know," Wolfang finished, looking at the fireball that was screaming back towards them.

            Heatnix slowed to a screeching halt and touched down whilst fixing his comrades with a huge grin. "We gotta drop by the Hunter camp on the way out, pals! This is something they gotta see for themselves."

            "Does it lead inside?" Wolfang queried immediately.

            Heatnix nodded and chuckled darkly. "It leads right inside the eastern part of Seraph Castle. Whuddya know? The sunzabitches really DID leave the door open for us, or rather, the Maverick Hunters who choose to invade via good old UNDINE."

            Ten minutes later the trio of Investigators were trudging back through the snow after Heatnix lifted his two comrades back up to the surface. They'd jammed the gate computer to prevent the Mavericks from locking them out, and shortly afterwards Scarabich had detonated his charges, reducing all of the UNDINE lab to scrap. Their mission was officially complete, but all agreed that it would be right and neighborly of them to drop by and let the Hunters know about this convenient entryway into the heart of their enemy's defenses. Through it all Ground Scarabich said nothing of the images he'd seen, wondering if his friends would think him insane. He would definitely say something to Gate, however. This was not something he could just blow off.

            They had walked for five whole minutes before the shooting started.

            Heatnix was, of course, the instigator. The unruly phoenix spotted figures moving in on the ground. From the harried and somewhat fearful way they moved, he'd immediately taken them for Mavericks and moved in to attack. Still, he wanted to make sure before he went and cooked the wrong people, so he hesitated in an overtly vulnerable position while looking down on the seven or so targets. The enemy, equally unsure what to make of this big blazing bird that was suddenly now hovering over their heads like looming death, raised their weapons, and for Heatnix that was enough. The phoenix screeched a battle cry and sped out of the line of fire in his streak-of-fire fashion, leaving the forces below him startled and trying to regroup. Heatnix sent a Magma Blade down towards the enemies, which they dodged with little difficulty. They responded by unloading their weapons in the direction of up, knowing they'd be able to hit the nimble phoenix eventually.

            Blizzard Wolfang missed the initial encounter, but he didn't miss Heatnix's battle cry or the sight of lasers trying to transfix his friend. The speedy Reploid began a four-footed charge in the direction of the attackers. As he closed in he could hear voices above the din of weapons chatter and Heatnix's attacks. Just as he was about to leap over a snow bank and rip apart a surprised target behind it, a certain voice stopped him cold.

            "Christ, reload! I'll keep the son of a bitch busy! Stromm, get on that radio now and see if it works yet! By god, if there's any more interruptions we'll never find a spot to transmit this alert!" That was all that was said, but it was enough for Wolfang to recognize the voice of a Reploid he'd worked with in the past on a few secret missions during the Repliforce uprising…even Gate was known to help out the top secret Aegis Hunting Unit.

            Wolfang, playing a huge gamble, leapt backwards a distance and crouched in the snow. His head tilted upwards and he howled long and hard at the descending moon. The powerful cry stopped all other actions. The sounds of firing weapons died down. The frantic shouting vanished. Even Heatnix stopped darting about in the sky. Ground Scarabich rolled into position on another snowball, his weapon drawn, ready for action, but action would not be needed. After the howl ended there was a few seconds of dead silence. Then, finally, the leader of the other party spoke up via a great shout.

            "WOLFANG?"

            "CASTLE?" Blizzard shouted back in turn.

            Silence.

            "WOLFANG, YOU ASSHOLE!" Castle of Unit 8 appeared at the top of the snow bank that Wolfang had been about to jump. The cranky acting commander fixed his old acquaintance with a poisonous glare, and thinking quickly Wolfang motioned to the still tense Heatnix to settle down and join them on the ground. Scarabich put away his weapon and disembarked his snowball as Peter Stromm, Henry Wallace, Dantz, Acrystos, Brant Everett, and Deluge crawled after their leader.

            "Sorry about that," Heatnix said when he landed, feeling like a first class idiot.

            "Oh, you're sorry!" Castle grumped. "Almost roasted our communications uplink, which is for shit anyway but is currently our only link to Hunter Headquarters, but damn it, he's sorry!"

            "I said I'm sorry, pal!" Heatnix repeated, getting angry. "What the hell more do you want?" It was then that all three Investigators noticed the condition of their guests. In addition to seeming rather beat up, the looks on their faces were ghastly. Something terrible had just happened.

            "The airship?" Ground Scarabich asked, quickly hitting the nail on the head.

            "Ah, so you've already met the Ambassador from Satan," Castle affirmed.

            "It came right out of the site we were supposed to investigate," Wolfang explained. "Turns out they had a hidden garage down there where they were building that thing."

            "That must be what Delgado saw," Acrystos mused aloud.

            "Wuzzat?" Wolfang couldn't make that connection.

            "A Hunter pilot flying a spy run over Seraph Castle spotted something strange in the direction we're heading, which I'm guessing is the direction you came from. The Mavericks shot him down for his vigilance."

            "Ouch," Heatnix observed, pissing Castle off further with his simplistic reply.

            "The airship you saw showed up at the Hunter camp about fifteen minutes ago," Acrystos explained. "It attacked our massed forces and kinda devastated us."

            "And that ain't the icing on the cake," Castle inserted. "That flying boat is headed right into Megacity 5 with goddamned nuclear weapons and the goddamned city is goddamned undefended and we can't get a goddamned connection to the goddamned Headquarters!"

            "EMG field," Acrystos had to explain, again covering for her commander's temper. "It's jamming everything up there."

            "Try the radio now?" Scarabich offered, his first words thus far.

            Peter Stromm was already doing that. The whine of the portable radio device was louder than the wind, and the human raised his head to frown at his comrades. "The signal's going through."

            "Then what's the frowny face for?" Castle asked, concern seeping into his voice.

            "I'm not getting a response on the other end." At Stromm's words, even the howl of the blizzard wind shrank to nothingness.

            "Impossible," Castle breathed, even as dread paralyzed him on his feet. Unit 8's other members felt similarly, and even the Investigators displayed overt discomfort at the news. Fittingly enough it was Heatnix who took control of the situation, frowning and shaking his head firmly.

            "I don't buy it. That was not a fast moving ship, amigos. It ran into us, what, twenty minutes ago?" Heatnix motioned to Unit 8. "That means it took that thing five minutes to get to the Hunters, and for an aircraft five minutes is a very long time. Hunter Headquarters is in truth a good few miles away from this clump of rocks. I'd bet we've got at least another half hour or even forty five minutes before that thing gets into a firing position."

            "I agree," Ground Scarabich put in. "I got a good look at those big launchers. They can send the missiles far, sure, but not all that far, not without losing accuracy, which I imagine the Mavericks would like to maintain."

            "Well, all I'm getting is static," Stromm insisted after trying the linkup again.

            "Try the back channel," medic Brant Everett suggested. "Maybe they had a power outage, or some shit like that."

            "Fine time for one of them, eh?" Dantz grunted.

            Everett's plan called for connecting with radios inside Hunter HQ that were not a part of the base computer network. The uplinks that Signas was using to communicate with his field units ran directly off base computers and a base power supply. If that power were cut, then communications wouldn't be able to get through. Such a scenario had always been terribly unlikely due to the complexity of the Hunter security codes. No one assumed that anything would be able to throw the base power offline, but unless Hunter HQ was already a steaming pile of radioactive waste, which logic vied against, the scenario was that somehow the impossible had occurred and power was out. Portable radios, walkie-talkies, and other communicators, however, should still be fair game. Using these "back channels" was rather like calling someone on the telephone, a novel idea that Stromm had somehow failed to consider, else he'd have packed his cell phone.

            "I'm getting something," Stromm announced a minute later, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. Stromm was communicating with something inside the HQ, meaning that the place had rather probably not been nuked. Still, as with placing a phone call, they had to wait for someone to pick up at the other end. Wolfang used the down time to speak to Castle about the discovery inside UNDINE.

            "We found something cool inside that old garage."

            "That so?" Castle asked, mildly interested.

            "You might want to give X a hint when you return," Wolfang went on, "that he can find the unguarded back door of Seraph Castle all gift wrapped and waiting with an innocent little grin at the base of the place he calls UNDINE." And that got his attention, Wolfang saw.

            "An entrance? You kidding me?"

            "Not at all," Heatnix interjected. "Checked it out myself. It leads right into the castle's eastern sector. I don't think they'll be expecting an infiltration party there!"

            Castle's eyes lit up and he seriously pondered the scenario, even as Stromm continued to wait for acknowledgement from HQ. "Look," he finally said to Heatnix. "Bird brain. You wanna redeem yourself?" Heatnix's feathers ruffled at the comment, but he did no more than glare. "Fly over to X and give him that bit of info right this instant."

            "I'm no errand boy," Heatnix all but seethed. "It's your mess, Hunter! You handle it! We've done our part."

            "Look, asshole!" Castle glowered. "I don't know if you maybe missed this, but there's a ship with nukes headed towards the center of a city with the probable goal of inciting a new rebellion. X and Zion are good leaders, but two minds think in two different ways, and last I saw them they were bickering like children. Those two are pissed at each other, and it ain't all their fault. It's a stressful scenario. But Zion wants to turn tail and head home right away to stop that airship, and X can't stand the thought of passing up such an utterly undefended Maverick base. The open back door thing might really sell his position. We don't have time to wait for us to trudge back up there through the snow. If there's a war, everyone loses, got it? Your boss is an enemy of the Mavericks, and they'll take you Investigators down too!"

            "He's right, Blaze," Wolfang urged gently. "Just fly to the Hunter camp, tell X, and meet Ground and I back at the spot we used coming into these rocks."

            Heatnix glared indignantly for a few seconds before simmering down and conceding the point. He threw a sloppy salute at Castle and beat his flaming wings, taking him into the sky, where he shot off like the fireball he was towards the spot where Unit 8 had come from.

            "Someone's coming!" Stromm announced right then. "It looks I called through a portable radio on base. Someone's coming on the other end!"

            "Well thanks be to Allah," Castle said with a huge sigh of relief. Then he turned to Ground Scarabich and Blizzard Wolfang. "I appreciate your help. We'll take care of the rest."

            "We'll return to the city," Wolfang nodded. "And if anything's amiss, the Investigators will hold the fort until the Hunters get back."

            "I'll drink to that." Castle glanced up at the sky, shivering from the cold. "It's a strange feeling, ain't it? This is the coldest night we've had all year around these parts, but in an eye blink it could become the hottest one in recorded history."

            "The UNDINE team reports success," Isoc announced as his colleague reentered the room.

            Gate nodded. "That's one relief, then. I still can't get through to Hunter Headquarters. Also, something seems to be going on in the city."

            "Spy droids?" Isoc suggested.

            Gate nodded. "Already done. I'm getting a good grip on what's going on in this city, one way or another. How are things in Brazil?"

            "The mission actually began eight minutes ago," Isoc reported. "The ground forces are moving and the bombing is about to begin."

            "Good," Gate thought aloud. "Let's give these bastards something to remember us by."

***

            The Breaker leaned against the tall, winding stump of a great tree, a beer in one hand and his rifle at his side. Next to him lounging in a similar manner was the most experienced member of the guard team that the Breaker had recently put together. His name was Ephemeron, and like his employer he was a stocky Reploid with a powerful build and a great skill with firearms. Ephemeron and the Breaker had done business together in the past, and both had a mutual respect for the other. They were both professionals, they both knew it, and they both knew that the other one knew it. And now they were both thinking the same thing: that perhaps they were in over their heads this time.

            Ephemeron crushed his empty beer can in a gray armored fist and let the remnants litter the jungle floor. He glanced about the sleepy camp, watching the other members of his team patrolling the area with Split Mushroom's original recruits. The Breaker followed his gaze, sipping at his still half-full can.

            "So tell me," Ephemeron said finally. "How much longer are they keeping you in this dump?"

            "Coupla weeks," the Breaker responded distractedly. "Maybe not even that long. Once the boys from up north show, my contract is fulfilled. And frankly, I'm not sticking around any longer than I have to."

            "Understandable," Ephemeron nodded. The gray mercenary looked up towards the sky and the approaching dawn. "What exactly are you suspecting?"

            "Scientists are coming to throw test tubes at us," the Breaker said blandly. "They might have some Hunters with them. Either way, this place is known to Gate and his crew, and therefore the Hunters know about it as well, so no matter what happens during my stay this place won't last long."

            "Kind of a waste," Ephemeron observed, staring at the mostly finished compound. In addition to the two main buildings there was a central command tower that linked them together. The tower was shorter than the other structures, which made everyone question the use of the term "tower", but it was still rather unstable, as the number one priority had been to get the barracks up and running. "After all this work, too."

            "I can't help it if that puerile fungus is short sighted," the Breaker said scornfully of his Maverick employer. "It's really not my problem."

            Ephemeron couldn't quite argue with that, and so they were quiet once more, both of them half relaxed and waiting for something they couldn't anticipate, which might not even happen at all.

            It wasn't the Breaker's problem, but it was definitely Mushroom's. The base commander was quartered on the upper floor of the smallish control tower, despite the Breaker's warnings that it was too unstable. What did Mushroom care if the place came down? That was what he had a teleporter for.

            No, his immediate concern was not the structure of his base, but the condition of its defense. According to the Breaker, this secret location was no longer much of a secret. Some kind of strike would inevitably come his way, if not now then definitely after Sigma launched his attack up north. After the Buzzbombs flew, the Hunters would come down on any Maverick settlement with the Wrath of God, and Mushroom had to be ready for when that time came. Ephemeron and his security team were worthwhile additions to Mushroom's infantry, but they still were not enough. He needed bodies, not drone guns, and the only bodies he'd be getting wouldn't come until after Seraph Castle lost its usefulness as a base. It wouldn't be long, Mushroom knew, but would it still be too late?

            The diminutive Maverick paced back and forth throughout the main control room. He was a fountain of energy, and when frustrated it was only worse. He could never take anything sitting down, and this was no exception. He had to move. Moving was when he came up with his best ideas.

            But nothing came, Mushroom conceded regretfully. And that was not good. Sigma would be here in a matter of days, and if he came to a base that was in ruins—or worse, in Hunter control—there would be serious trouble not only for the Maverick forces but for Mushroom himself, who would have to suffer his leader's wrath. He didn't fear death—contrary to popular belief, Sigma was not one who killed his own men. He was still a military commander, and a commander was ultimately loyal to his unit. The so-called Sigma Virus didn't scare the Mavericks since they were, after all, already Mavericks. No, Mushroom would not be killed, but he might well be demoted and reduced to peon status as a mere foot soldier, something Sigma had already threatened to do after Mushroom's failure during the fourth uprising. He would not be in Brazil now, he knew, if Sigma hadn't been so understaffed. This was his last chance to prove himself. If he failed, Sigma wouldn't give him any other opportunities.

            And so, he would not fail. He would stop any intruder himself, if it came to that. And when it all came down to it, there were a lot of Split Mushrooms to go around. The Maverick chuckled at the thought, even as a rainbow light covered his hands.

            Yes, this Maverick still had a few tricks up his iron sleeve.

            Alejandro Cortez was finally in position. He checked with his two wingmen and got confirmative responses, and opened up a channel with the base to get his final clearance.

            "Raiders One, Two, and Three are in position. Requesting permission to execute, over."

            The response took a few endless seconds to arrive. "Raiders One, Two and Three, base confirms. You are authorized to execute, over."

            And that was that. Cortez steered his fearsome Raider lower to the treetops, and his wingmen mimicked the action. They began to reduce speed, coming in slow enough that they'd have time to get their shots in but still fast enough that no one on the ground would be able to take them down.

            The Raiders were nearly silent, but only nearly. The air rumbled as they approached their target, and the treetops shook with a violent wind. Cortez eyed his targeting computer and soon came up with a positive targeting light. He thumbed the selector switch for his Sidewinders and let them fly, seconds before his wingmen did the exact same thing.

            The missiles took off and the Raiders pulled up, just as soon as the Maverick camp became visible to their eyes. Cortez found himself compelled to look. People on the ground were scrambling around like ants at a disturbed anthill, and the three target buildings were plain as sunrise. Cortez had to whistle at the way the Mavericks had designed the place to blend in with the surroundings. There had been serious thought put into this one. Too bad it would all go to shit in the next few seconds.

            The last thing Cortez saw before he passed the place up entirely was the approach of several black hovercrafts. He remembered now that there was a ground team moving in to clean up the mess Cortez and his crew would make. Cortez vaguely wondered if they would know to plug their ears to escape the shockwave and sound wave. Perhaps he should have told them that earlier, he thought.

            Not long after he returned to the air, Cortez saw the flashes illuminate the still dark jungle, followed by a rumble that was audible even inside his cockpit. He proceeded for a few more miles while checking his monitors to make sure that the enemy didn't send any presents his way, more specifically heat seekers. There were no warning, though, and Cortez slowly began to turn his jet around, increasing speed as he did so. A minute later the three Raiders were speeding back the way they'd come, though they were at a higher altitude and as such did not have to worry about hitting the hovercrafts. Cortez looked down again and saw a large, burning area below him. It looked like a success. He just hoped that the ground troops would be kind enough to douse the fire, or at least call for help if they couldn't. Maybe he should take care of that, he decided.

            "Raider One to base, mission accomplished. Advise you send a fire containment crew this way, over."

            "Copy that, Raider One," the chipper commander replied. "Raiders return to base. Your mission is complete, over."

            Cortez didn't waste any time speeding back towards the Brazilian air base, wingmen in tow. It was up to the folks on the ground now, he thought, though he doubted they would have much trouble, not after he'd done all the work for them.

            Everyone was tense. It had been a long night, and that meant that they had been out here too long. The enemy would see them eventually, they were sure. Good luck couldn't possibly hold out forever. They'd see a troop member who got careless, or maybe they'd lock onto Commander Yammark inside the hovercrafts. Whatever the situation, they'd be found out eventually. There was no way around it.

            Julio Gomez forced himself to stop thinking these thoughts of doom and concentrate on the task at hand. This was not easy, because for the moment the task at hand was to wait, while somehow at the same time managing not to be eaten alive by mosquitoes. Gomez felt like he was gradually turning into a single huge itchy lump. He'd demand hazard pay for this, he decided. Who knew what diseases those sunzabitches carried nowadays? Especially so near to a Maverick base, where the commander was known for biotoxins!

            The waiting continued for a few more minutes until finally Gomez heard Commander Yammark's voice in his ear communicator. "All right boys, we're on. The planes are in position. Plug your ears but be ready to move. There's gonna be a lot of shooting going on pretty soon, I'd wager. Stick to the plan and things'll be fine. Over."

            And that was that, Gomez realized with a long breath, clutching his assault rifle tight to his chest. It fired adaman bullets, which would work wonders on any Reploid target. Gomez had put in a special order for these bullets when he'd learned he'd be tackling Mavericks. No Reploid Nazi was taking HIM hostage.

            Despite Yammark's words, it seemed like years before the Raider jets actually made an appearance. Actually, they didn't quite appear, at least not at first. Rather, they were heard…

            …And DAMN were they FELT! Gomez hadn't ever witnessed destruction in any great form, but this more than satisfied a lifelong appetite. The six Sidewinder missiles came down in three pairs of two, shortly after the Raiders screamed past their heads, pulling up as they approached the target, their projectiles in their wake. Gomez watched in fascination, forgetting to plug his ears, as the missiles descended towards a spot very, very close to Gomez and his compadres. Shouts and cries of alarm reached him before the explosions began. There were six of them, meaning all six Sidewinders went off. The thundering booms all seemed to blend together after a while, and the shockwaves floored Gomez and several members of his unit. So began the worst few moments of Gomez's life, because when a man to his right fell down he accidentally fired his weapon, and the bark of the automatic weapon came during a lull in the explosions.

            Surviving Mavericks heard the shots, and some even saw the muzzle flashes. They responded with shots of their own in that general direction, and Gomez got to his feet in horror, brandishing his weapon and shouting orders.

            "Everybody MOVE! Follow the mission plan and we'll be fine! Now let's kick some Maverick ass!" He sounded much more confident than he was as he led the charge towards the startled, devastated, but still enraged Maverick base camp.

            Due to some strange premonition, the Breaker was not surprised by the attack.

            He and Ephemeron had just adjourned their sojourn when the scream of incoming jets first reached the mercenaries' ears. The two had sprinted for cover immediately, expertly veering away from any building and screaming for patrolling Mavericks to do the same. Plenty of folks heeded their warnings, which turned out to be in their favor when the Sidewinders came crashing down like the fist of Satan.

            The first two came down together and headed straight for the control tower. However at the last minute the other two, larger buildings seemed to demand their attention, and they tried to redirect themselves. There was not enough time, though, and they exploded near the control tower, heavily damaging it and everything in the vicinity.

            The second two Sidewinders headed straight for the first large building, the barracks, the one that would house Sigma and the others when they arrived from Seraph Castle. These two missiles didn't waver, and the barracks vanished in a hellish fire that blinded the Breaker and his allies.

            The third pair of missiles hit the second building, the development laboratory, and blew it apart like some kid kicking down a sandcastle. This went unseen by the Mavericks who were still alive, because their optics were still adjusting to the flare that the second missile strike had caused. But the effects were certainly felt, and after the third impact every Maverick in the area was sitting on their butts, stunned.

            The effect didn't last long for the more experienced units, mainly, the Breaker and Ephemeron. They sprang to their feet and began coordinating the surviving units. The Breaker spotted Tekki, a Maverick he'd hated earlier but now had come to respect, and sent him off with a small squad to fortify what of the buildings was still intact. Tekki was reluctant, as were most of the Mavericks, but once they were reassured that the air raids were over they did as they were told.

            For his part, the Breaker was enraged. There were a million actions for him to take, the most dominant one being to get the hell out of here, but his rage would not allow that, not yet. He'd seen this place built from the ground up, and to have it reduced to ashes in a matter of seconds was too insulting. He had to do something to make the enterprise worth it, he decided. He hoisted his huge rifle in his hands and snarled at the rising fire. Not yet, he thought. He wasn't done yet.

            Manny Rodriguez led the party that hit the Brazilian Maverick Headquarters first. The plucky human charged down the forest trail with his assault rifle at the ready. His gun fired high-powered lasers, which he thought were as good or better than the adaman bullets his friend Julio had suggested. Plus, lasers looked cooler.

            Yammark's field officer encountered his first resistance in the form of a confused looking Maverick who seemed to be running away from the fire behind him. He saw the massed invasion party and panicked, raising his gun to fire. One of Rodriguez's troops took him down with a well placed three round burst, and a Reploid on the team followed this up with a charged plasma blast.

            After smoking this poor bastard, the team approached the edge of the tree line. Past this was the Maverick base perimeter, and Rodriguez crossed it boldly. His group encountered next a ragtag Maverick team, and without wasting a single breath they opened fire.

            The Mavericks were slow in firing back. They had lost the initiative before the battle even began, because they were too disorganized to know if this group of people was their ally or their enemy. Clearly, though, these people were less than friendly, and Tekki started the party by firing his arm cannon repeatedly into the mass, even as several of his comrades fell around him.

            A human female soldier next to Rodriguez took one of Tekki's plasma shots. It burned a hole in her chest and she slumped to the ground, not quite dead yet but close enough for Rodriguez. With a low growl the human surged forth, leading his troops closer to the scene of carnage before them. Thankfully, Yammark's troops were angered and not terrified by the deaths of their comrades, and they meted out quick justice to the Maverick enemy.

            Tekki and Rodriguez selected each other as targets, neither knowing that their enemy was in command of the opposing party. Tekki fired the first shot, sending a ball of plasma screaming towards his human adversary. Rodriguez jumped to the side, but the sizzling heat of the projectile burned the flesh of his right calf. Pissed, he raised his rifle and sent a stream of glowing red laser bursts flying towards his Maverick foe, who used his superhuman speed to dodge most of them. Still, most was not all, and several shots burned holes in Tekki's armor, and one shot caught him in his right flank. Coughing up a bit of coolant, Tekki glowered and fired off several more buster shots. Rodriguez responded by sprinting like a madman, shooting and running for his life while hoping to the merciful saints that he would score more hits than his opponent…for indeed, just one of Tekki's plasma bullets would be enough to kill Rodriguez, a mere flesh-and-blood human who hadn't thought to procure suitable armor before the mission began. In the end, Rodriguez simply had the advantage of a faster gun. The assault rifle spat out rounds much faster than Tekki's buster could, and the Maverick had to dodge, too. Just as Rodriguez's clip ran out with a horrifying clang when he pulled the trigger, a four round burst stitched a line up Tekki's chest and burst his generator, dropping the Maverick to the ground like a used Kleenex.

            His personal battle over, the pumped Rodriguez turned to see what else was going on. His soldiers hadn't suffered any more casualties, thank God, and the Mavericks seemed to be retreating. Manny rushed to the largest group of his soldiers and learned where most of the Mavericks had fled.

            "Let's go!" he shouted, pointing in that direction. "Don't let the bastards get away!" He started off, followed by his equally pumped friends. "Stop running!" Rodriguez shouted. "Grow some balls! Where's your great power now, you genocidal assholes?"

            And then something bad happened: namely, the Mavericks grew some balls.

            This happened because another figure had rallied them around him. Rodriguez had to blink to allow his eyes to adjust to the shadowy figure, but when he got closer he stopped in his tracks. The Mavericks had a new confidence, because the man in the middle was a mushroom.

            But not just any mushroom, of course. For the first time that night, Rodriguez was worried.

            "I'm sure it's been fun," Split Mushroom hissed. "But playtime's over." Then he pointed his finger at Rodriguez and the Mavericks attacked.

            Julio Gomez was to attack the camp from the side, rather than the front like Rodriguez, in the attempt to catch the Mavericks even further off their guard. He led his troops with less bravado, but with equal confidence, for which he was very thankful.

            Gomez himself shot the first Maverick that came their way, and he wasn't all that proud about it, as the Maverick was mainly a terrified bloke running away without even a gun at his side. The shooting had been instinctive, and Gomez knew he hadn't exactly done the wrong thing. Still, it didn't seem to him like the right thing. But there would be time for this debate later, he decided. Right now he had to approach the camp and rendezvous with Manny, who would more than likely need their help.

            The final approach ended prematurely when pretty much everyone rocked forward in a violent coughing fit. Human and Reploid alike found themselves susceptible to a strange purple cloud that had suddenly inserted itself in the air, and Gomez barely had time to wonder at it before a Reploid member of his team recovered and charged forward, immediately followed by a headstrong human. Gomez heard guns firing and someone shouting, and then he pulled himself together and stood up.

            The first thing he saw was the muzzle flash of a gun firing his way. Fine, he thought, at least he had a target. He shook his head to clear it and fired a short burst at the target as he approached, just to startle the bastard. Amazingly the shooting from that end stopped. No way, he thought, could he have been that lucky?

            Well, whatever the case he didn't have a target anymore, and so he pressed forward with the remainder of his unit coming forward behind him. What he found a little further ahead was quite disturbing indeed. The headstrong human was now doubled over like a sick dog, vomiting something fierce, and even the Reploid was fighting to keep his head on straight. That purple cloud was back, Gomez realized, and it was making them all sick.

            But that wasn't the only problem. Mavericks were shooting from the bushes, and Gomez immediately sent some adaman bullets their way, followed by the members of his team. It only took a few seconds before all shooting stopped, and then Gomez saw the strangest thing happen.

            The Reploid who'd charged ahead jumped back in alarm, suddenly besieged by two tumbling, cart wheeling forms made out of rainbow energies. Eventually he tripped and fell, and one of the forms charged right at him, exploding violently on impact like a plasma shot would. The Reploid shuddered and slumped to the earth, and the second form charged right at Gomez.

            But Julio had seen enough. He raised his gun and fired a burst of bullets at the form, but it just fizzled as the bullets passed through. Nothing! This wasn't going to be easy. Gomez prepared to dodge, but just before he made his move someone proved the gesture worthless by unloading on the rainbow form with a spray of laser fire. The two bodies of energy conflicted and the form flickered and died.

            Stunned, Gomez looked around for the source of the strange attack, along with the rest of his confused unit. It dawned on Gomez just seconds before it would have been too late that the bodies of energy seemed to closely resemble a Maverick he'd seen in pictures before the mission began…

            "Mushroom!" Gomez bellowed, snapping the ammo cartridge out of his weapon and replacing it with a fresh magazine in one fluid motion. "Show yourself!"

            "Took you long enough," Split Mushroom's childish voice said. The diminutive Maverick bounced out of the shadows and didn't bother with much more small talk other than "You want a fight? You got it!"

            Despite his devotion to the Maverick's elimination, Gomez did feel discouraged. The Hunters had been forced to send X himself after this freak. How in the world was his bunch of part time soldiers and inexperienced Hunters going to do the job?

            It wasn't like he had a lot of time to think, though, and Gomez wasted no more time before raising his gun and opening fire on the Maverick, who nimbly dodged while generating more and more clones. It promised to be a maddening fight for all involved.

            Cortez's Sidewinders had divided at the end of their flight, and so they had missed the chance to remove the control tower from the face of the planet. Still, the destructive force had shredded most of the place, and while the rickety tower still stood, everything inside was a mess.

            This did not exclude the upper control room, which was now mostly in flames and falling apart more with every passing minute. Still, even all this did not greatly disturb the one active figure inside the structure. The battered, diminutive Maverick rested against what had once been a computer, breathing heavily with his arms clasped over his chest. His hands were balled into fists, and orbs of rainbow energies surrounded them and glowed strong. For him, that indication was all he needed, as it meant that he was still in the game.

            "Go," Split Mushroom whispered, seeing the battles unfold before his eyes. "Kill them…kill every last one of them! The bastards…how dare they do this to me?! I'll get them! We'll get them," he corrected himself with a raspy cough. "All of us will get them…!"

            Manny Rodriguez pressed himself behind a tree trunk, breathing heavily and wincing from pain caused by several close call shots like the one from Tekki. He'd been burned more than once by passing plasma, and the battle wasn't getting any easier. The Mavericks were closing in more and more, their morale restored by the presence of their leader, and Yammark's fighters were not prepared for such a determined enemy. If things didn't change soon, Rodriguez thought…well, it was best not to think about that.

            "What the hell is going on?" Commander Yammark snapped. "How in the hell did all of those Mavericks survive?"

            "Hell if I know," the hovercraft pilot retorted. "You saw that fire burn just as brightly as I did. Those jets didn't miss, so I dunno what the problem is!"

            "Take us in closer," Yammark ordered, and the hovercraft descended somewhat. The dragonfly Reploid knew he'd have to get in there eventually. His units were pinned down, and they needed a real soldier like Yammark to take on Split Mushroom, who was unfortunately still alive. If they could get closer, Yammark might be able to spot the group that needed the most help, and then he could fly down and…

            "Well," the pilot mused. "Speak of the devils."

            Before Yammark could ask him what he meant, he heard the answer for himself in the form of Raiders screaming overhead. Cortez and his crew were doubling back and heading for their base. Well, Yammark thought, it only made sense. Their mission was over, after all. Now it was up to his troops, and they weren't doing so well.

            Rodriguez had just about given up hope when the Good Lord granted him a new lease on life. Mushroom's maniacal laughter was suddenly drowned out by the roar of the returning Raiders, which whooshed overhead like they'd done earlier in the night. Rodriguez took advantage of the distraction to peek out from behind his tree and see what was going on.

            What he saw lifted his spirits immensely. Split Mushroom was stomping and shouting in annoyance at the interruption, but the regular Maverick guards were less active. They stared up at the sky, paralyzed with sheer horror at the thought of those messengers of death returning to their camp. The image of what the Raiders had done not five minutes ago was still fresh in their minds, and the thought of it happening again shook them to their very core.

            It had the reverse effect on Commander Yammark's soldiers. With a collective cry they rushed forward, all firing their weapons at once. One by one the Mavericks began to fall, completely unable to defend themselves. The ones that did react ran away screaming, unwilling to face the terror of either the invaders or their Raider cohorts.

            "No!" Split Mushroom raged. "No no no NO!" He leapt into the air, getting surprising height for someone with such short legs, and prepared to let loose another spray of his toxic gas.

            Manny Rodriguez spun out from behind his cover and riddled the Maverick with lasers, keeping the spray up and juggling the Maverick in the air. When he finally stopped the stunned Mushroom came crashing to the ground in shock, but his torment was not over. The other soldiers opened fire on his stunned form, and slowly began taking him apart. Rodriguez approached the scene just as Split Mushroom's body began to flare violently, and then it inexplicably burst into sparks, vanishing from existence without even a generator blast or spare parts lying around.

            Rodriguez and his men stared back at each other with mutual confusion for almost a full minute before they got over the moment and started charging towards the rendezvous point. Gomez would be waiting for them, Rodriguez figured, and if he wasn't then he had to be in trouble.

            "Tekki!" the Breaker shouted into his communicator. "Tekki, come in, goddamn you!"

            "He's dead," Ephemeron announced blandly. "They're all dead."

            The Breaker stared in shock at his wrist communicator for a few seconds before looking up at his fellow mercenary. "There's no victory here, is there?"

            "You were right to want to get out of here," Ephemeron confirmed. "Let's go."

            "Right," the Breaker conceded after a minute. He forced his mind to process the remaining exfiltration points he'd set up earlier. "There's a path we can use near the back of the barracks. Let's run!"           

Trouble was a fitting word for what Gomez was going through. The human had been doing his best to keep tabs on the real Split Mushroom, who was launching rainbow clones left and right and bouncing around the forest like a pinball. Adaman bullets were only useful against the real thing, while lasers were useful in scattering Mushroom's clones. Thankfully, Yammark's troops were smart enough to figure this out, and continued to pelt the clones with lasers while those with solid bullets continued to attack Mushroom himself.

            No matter how good a duelist Mushroom may have been, there were just too many soldiers around for him to function effectively. Since the battle started he'd only gotten off one good dust cloud attack, and the enemy had now figured out to shoot him down as soon as he got into the air to launch another cloud. Now that his Soul Bodies were ineffective, he was by rights a sitting duck. Still, he kept on fighting, which confused Gomez until the human finally managed to line up a headshot and put a string of adaman bullets through Mushroom's face. The Maverick shuddered, flashed, and burst into…sparks. Not flames, not bits and pieces, but…sparks. What in the world…?

            "Don't question it," Gomez ordered, motioning towards the path they had to take. "Let's go! This'll lead to the barracks, where we'll meet the second team! Let's MOVE!"

            The first light was extinguished too early for his liking. Split Mushroom stared at his right fist in shock, noting that the rainbow aura was now gone, signifying the death of one clone.

            "Impossible," the badly damaged Maverick sputtered. His disbelief turned to outrage when not thirty seconds later the light on his left fist sputtered and died.

            "No…" Mushroom shook his head slowly at first, and then started increasing the speed as his rage increased with it. "No," he repeated, pulling himself to his feet. "No, no, no, NOOO!" His arms shot out and rainbow energies poured out of each fist. Mushroom's generator screamed its protests, but the Maverick wasn't listening. The energies began to solidify into two more clones, and after another minute there were three of the same Maverick in the control room.

            Completely drained but with both fists glowing again, Mushroom slumped to the floor and remained there, not moving a muscle as his henchmen leapt out of the shattered window to go fulfill their murderous task. His generator was all but done for, having been nearly completely drained by the creation of four clones in so short a time.

            "I don't care," Mushroom told the floor. "I don't care. It's my last chance. I don't care anymore."

            By some twist of fate, Commander Yammark's plan went right to the point that Gomez and Rodriguez met each other at the exact same place at the exact same time. Unfortunately, there were others who were heading for the same spot, though they went unnoticed for a little while by the two field leaders.

            "Shit, Manny, it's loco!" Gomez said, out of breath. "It's all crazy!"

            "You're tellin' me," Rodriguez grinned. "But we made it, eh?"

            They almost didn't, because at that moment a grenade exploded nearby and sent shrapnel everywhere, including into Julio Gomez's right arm. The human cried out in pain, clutching the wound while his partner raised his laser rifle and unleashed a burst in the direction the grenade had come from, along with everyone else in the unit.

            However, the next attack was unpredicted. Someone raced from the bushes to the right of the troops, making a mad dash for the trail Gomez and company had just come from. Several people turned to fire, but a disturbance to the left drew their attention. Shots were flying everywhere now, and no one really knew who they were supposed to be shooting at.

            "Well lookie here," the pilot said, looking at his zoom cam. "Is that who I think it is?"

            "Affirmative," Commander Yammark replied, focusing his own optics on the path near the barracks, more specifically on the figure running away. "That would be our close and personal friend…Ix-88, the Breaker."

            "Imagine that," the pilot said, returning his attention to the flight controls. "You'd think the sonovabitch would have picked a better escape route, eh boss? …Boss?"

            But Commander Yammark wasn't in the hovercraft anymore.

            Manny Rodriguez had seen his fair share of tough enemies that night, but this guy looked like he took the cake. It was a big gray Reploid with an overlarge gun that doubled as a bazooka of sorts, and right now it was pointed at the clustered group of soldiers.

            "MOVE IT!" Rodriguez and Gomez roared in unison, and just like that the unit scrambled. They just made it, too. The shell erupted near the center of the pack, spilling some people onto the dirt floor of the rainforest. Then the group began to mass again, but this time there was no indecision. They moved towards the enemy, firing their weapons as one.

            For his part, Ephemeron hadn't noticed till now just how bad an idea this was. He'd frankly expected the Breaker's help, but in doing so he'd forgotten the major code of mercenaries: "Screw you, pal." It was all about self-preservation, and somehow Ephemeron had forgotten that.

            In the second it took him to arrive at a conclusion, drop his weapon, and raise his hands in surrender, four bullets tore into him, one in his leg, two in his right arm, and one in his lower gut. Ephemeron fell hard to the floor but kept his arms raised to the sky, hoping and praying.

            His prayers were answered in the form of Julio Gomez shouting "STOP! STOP, GODAMMIT! HE'S GIVING UP!" The next thing Ephemeron knew his hands were being bound behind his back, and a tranquilizer dart was jammed into his arm.

            "I'm just a mercenary," he repeated over and over as sleep took him, wanting them to know he wasn't one of the genocidal Reploids they'd come here to kill. "Just…a mercenary…"

            "Tell it to the jury, asshole," Rodriguez spat, and then looked up at the sky. "Hey, it's the bossman! He's flyin' after someone, looks like."

            "Well let's not just stand here, then!" Gomez decided, and then stopped. He frowned, watching his commander in action. "Hey Manny…the boss look all right to you? He's flying kinda weird."

            The Breaker had no immediate regrets about leaving Ephemeron behind. It was all about survival, and it had been from the beginning. Some people won, others lost. Ephemeron had lost. Now it was up to the Breaker to make sure that he didn't lose, too, and so far things were going well in that category.

            But then there came a sound behind him, a sort of buzzing. The Breaker turned his head as he ran, and beheld Commander Yammark, the goddamned dragonfly who'd started this nightmare for the Breaker all those weeks ago, coming after him with almost murderous intent. What, the Breaker wondered, couldn't anything go right tonight? Why were all his preparations coming to nothing? Why wasn't Manolin's virus doing something?

            Alas, when running at top speed through a rainforest, it does one well to look where one is going. The Breaker ran headfirst into the trunk of a very large tree and slumped to the ground, and for several critical seconds there he sat, stunned.

            Commander Yammark still had considerable altitude going for him, but now it was time for the descent, and the ultimate dive bomb attack, which involved zooming towards the ground at top speed and pulling up at the last minute to gore the Breaker from behind with the prongs that made up the dragonfly's hands, rather like a bull. He set up the angle, took a deep breath, and shot downward with all the force he could muster.

            But while the Investigators worldwide would get many lucky breaks that night, Commander Yammark would receive nothing of the kind. Deep within the circuitry surrounding the wings on his back, a hidden program woke from its hibernation, and slowly began to go to work. It first attacked the motor programs, and then worked to destroy the flight program all together. Manolin's Curse had come through, after all.

            Yammark first realized that he was in trouble when he could no longer control the direction of his descent. So, he tried to reduce his speed, finding that even this was impossible. This was quite bad, because he was heading at extreme speeds towards the ground below, and if he couldn't pull up…if he couldn't pull up, then…

            The air crashed around the Investigator, and he choked back a startled cry. Mechanical failure? Now? Sure, it could happen, but NOW? How could this be? How could he die like…like this?!

            The last thing Yammark heard before plowing into the ground was the alarmed shouting that came from his units as they rushed down the path the Breaker was using to escape. At least they were still alive, Yammark thought. Then he hit the jungle floor and the force of the impact literally snapped his body in half, shattering the upper portion and throwing the lower one somewhere in the trees. This was all accompanied by a burst of sparks and flames, though miraculously Yammark's chest hit the ground before his head, sparing his control chip serious damage, and equally miraculously his generator shattered but did not explode.

            Manny Rodriguez and Julio Gomez approached the remains of Commander Yammark, their employer and friend, and stared with shock, as did the rest of their team. Then their eyes slowly raised and fixed upon a figure near a tree, who was staggering to his feet and looking in disbelief at the scene before his eyes.

            "Kill him," Rodriguez said, loud enough to be heard by both his men and the Breaker, who was realizing now that his weapon had gone flying when he'd hit the tree. A Reploid stepped forward to carry out the order, but then something else went right for the Breaker that night: a spinning rainbow body exploded into the Reploid and seated him on the ground, twitching and trying to recover.

            "Impossible," Gomez and Rodriguez breathed at once. Then there came the sound of insane giggling….from TWO directions.

            The Investigators looked to the left and to the right, and beheld two clones of Split Mushroom…but the horror didn't stop there. The clones, acting in unison, held their arms in front of them and poured rainbow energies into an invisible mold. The Investigators were too stunned to do anything but watch, which turned out to be an amazing folly, since when the process was complete the "molds" took the form of…

            …More clones. There were four of them now. FOUR of the same Maverick Boss. And no Mega Man X in sight.

            "Shit," Gomez observed.

            "Shit," Rodriguez agreed.

            The Mushrooms laughed with insane glee and then the night's real chaos began.

            The control tower had been lucky since its conception. Even in the early stages it had been rickety due to a faulty foundation, and the threat of collapse had always been present. However even though it had been spared the full brunt of the Sidewinder attack, the additional damage was the straw that broke the camel's back…and this camel was coming down with a vengeance.

            The lower levels of the tower caved in first, and it really did cave. It imploded, and pretty much the entire lower sector vanished in flames. The small tower's upper section didn't last much longer, and the walls came in to crush anything inside.

            Split Mushroom heard it, but hearing was all he could do. The battered Maverick still lay on the floor, helpless to do anything about his predicament. He was still powerless from his cloning process, and his generator was still recharging itself. He couldn't move. He could only wait.

            "Why?" he asked the floor. It didn't answer. It never did. "Why?" he asked again, anyway. "Why now? Why now when I was about to WIN?" He didn't know how many times Sigma had asked himself that same question, but no doubt he would have found the answer fitting.

            The main control room caved in on itself, and Mushroom was crushed under a particularly large bit of debris. Seconds later the entire structure was nothing more than a burning, smoking, shredded wreck, as was everything—and everyone—inside.

            For the second time that night Manny Rodriguez gave up hope. The Mushrooms were dancing about like the freaks they were, sending out more clones than the Investigators could handle. Even worse, they'd been able to get their gas into the air once or twice, and that was taking a heavy toll. It wouldn't be long, Rodriguez decided, before all of the Investigators joined Commander Yammark.

            But then, for the second time that night, Rodriguez was touched by an angel. One of the Mushrooms leapt to his side, surprising him. He was defenseless and he knew it. He waited for the Soul Body to fly into his flank and kill him, but the attack never came. Indeed, all the insane laughter suddenly stopped, and all four Split Mushrooms suddenly started screaming, and clasped their hands to their big floppy heads. The sound grated Rodriguez's ears, but he did not cover them. Instead he raised his rifle to apply the deathblows to these infernal creatures, but that proved to be a worthless gesture. One by one the clones burst into sparks, for some inexplicable reason, until all Maverick presence in Brazil had finally been wiped out.

            "Hot damn!" Rodriguez breathed. "Hot DAMN!"

            Julio Gomez cracked a grin, but only briefly. Too many things crashed down on him at once. The battle was won, because of some unexplainable reason, but Yammark was dead. He'd crashed, which meant a faulty flight program. How had that happened? But that was a question he could save for later. He might even ask Ephemeron and his comrade, the Breaker—

            …The Breaker! Where was he?

            Gomez and Rodriguez had the exact same thought at the exact same time. "FIND HIM!" they roared. "Find that son of a BITCH and bring him back here!"

            "He must have slipped off when we were fighting that damn fungus," Gomez opined.

            "Shit!" Rodriguez spat. "And we HAD his ass, too!"

            In the end they searched for a good ten minutes before concluding that wherever the Breaker was, it was probably beyond their reach. Anyway, they had wounded—and dead—to collect, and Rodriguez signaled the hovercrafts to land and make a pickup.

            "Where's the boss?" one pilot asked. Rodriguez and Gomez responded by placing the two halves of their commander inside the craft. "Holy Jesus," the pilot breathed. "How did that…?"

            "Later," Gomez insisted. "Let's go. Let's just go home."

            "Right," the pilot said, though he hesitated. "Look…Gate wants a briefing."

            "Gate wants a briefing?" Rodriguez asked, getting into the front seat and taking the headset. "All right. I'll give the man a briefing, then."

The Breaker ran like he'd never run before in his life. His weapon was somewhere behind him, but he knew it would just be a useless extra weight at this point. If someone found him, they would kill him. No weapon of his would stop that from happening. Also, it wasn't as though he'd had the time to go looking for his gun. He'd barely managed to slip away shortly after the Mushroom clones—what a MADDENING method of attack—began their evil dance. Now he was rushing clear away from any path without any real notion of where he was going, until history repeated itself and he tripped on a tree root and fell face first into the tree the root belonged to.

            Stunned once more, the Breaker sat up and rubbed his bruised head, clearing out the cobwebs and using the precious few seconds of rest to catch his breath. Where was he going, he asked himself. He wasn't safe in Brazil anymore—that was for sure. The Hunters would be looking for him with a vengeance. No, he'd have to flee this country immediately…and by immediately, he meant IMMEDIATELY, before the Hunters could page the military.

            That decided, he came to his senses and checked his teleportation system. Thankfully it hadn't malfunctioned or something, and even more thankfully he was currently in an area where teleportation was possible.

            But where should he GO? He wanted to be as far away from a major Hunter presence as possible…and that meant somewhere in the east, preferably the European Commonwealth, where Hunter presence was not as strong. There was always Russia, he reminded himself. That huge country housed plenty of woodlands in the frosty north. It would be a climate switch for sure, but at the moment that seemed as good a place as any…especially because, in Russia, there was plenty of open land to hide in if the authorities caught onto him.

            With that crude destination in mind, the Breaker held his breath and prepared for the most risky maneuver of his life—teleporting to the Brazilian Bureau of Transportation. Once at the BBT, he could quickly pay for teleportation to…hell, anywhere, be it Russia or a better option. Unwilling to wait even a second longer, the Breaker activated his teleporter and was off with a flash, leaving Brazil and all its bad memories behind him.

            It had been the hardest job of his life, and also the most dangerous, but he had prevailed. He was a survivor, after all, and he would continue to survive. He would make new contacts, and new allies. After all, no matter where he went there was always that one common medium: the fact that when one has money, one has power. And the Breaker had a LOT of money at his disposal, dirty money mostly, but money nonetheless. Therefore, it shouldn't be hard for him to regain what precious power he'd procured in this jungle. The future awaited him, and all his comrades here would have to do without his aid. Ephemeron was either dead or in Hunter hands, and he were it the latter he would not have much fun in the next few days.

            But that, as with most things, was not the Breaker's problem.

***

            "The mission is a success."

            "…But?" Gate probed, noting Isoc's emotionless, ghastly tone of voice.

            "The Maverick presence in Brazil has been wiped out."

            "…But?" Gate repeated, standing again and bracing for the other bit of bad news that the night wanted to throw at him.

            Isoc sighed and turned to face his colleague with a sorrowful expression. "Yammark died."

            Gate blinked. "Died? What…how did that happen?"

            Isoc's expression didn't change. "He went off in pursuit of the Breaker, Split Mushroom's security chief. Apparently his flight program malfunctioned, and he crashed."

            "Impossible!" Gate all but shouted. "I installed that flight program myself! It was supposed to be foolproof!"

            Isoc sighed again and shrugged weakly. "Whatever happened, it happened. Even worse, it seems that this Breaker fellow managed to get away."

            "Damn him," Gate seethed, though his true anger was not at Ix-88, but at the curse of fate that had brought his colleague and friend to his death. Commander Yammark was—had been—a true believer. Gate had recruited the Reploid himself, and this was the first instance where an Investigator under his control had died. With that thought, the anger died and Gate's mind settled into a more grievous mood.

            But the time for mourning would be short lived. The door to the control room opened and a messenger Reploid entered. "Dr. Gate, sir, the spy report is in."

            "What is it, Silas?" Gate asked with only half interest.

            "It's bad, sir," Silas said in a voice that almost quivered. He handed a file folder to Gate, who at first took it absent mindedly but then snapped to full attention after speed-reading the report. He ran some of the pictures through his optics before looking up at Silas with wide-eyed understanding. Silas was a young Reploid, after all, and had probably never come face to face with the menace of war.

            And war, in all its brutal harshness, was exactly what was taking place in the world outside Gate's laboratory. Unidentified battle machines, presumably occupied by Maverick elements, had more or less surrounded the Hunter Headquarters building in central Megacity 5, and even worse, the Megacity Army base was up in flames. Gate handed the file folder to the anxious Isoc, and turned back to Silas. "We still can't get through to the Hunters?"

            "No, sir," Silas responded, still nervous. "The Headquarters is still there, but we can't get through to anyone inside."

            "Jesus," Gate breathed, invoking a name that was more or less meaningless to him. "All right, Silas, you're sticking around. Isoc, wrap up these investigations and turn all of our resources to covering the city. In the meantime, keep trying to page the Hunters. If by some chance we do get through, we may be able to keep them in the know. Jesus," he said again. "Wolfang and the others are going to be coming home right through this mess."

            "They'll manage," Isoc offered, though it was a rather weak offer. What a night, Isoc thought as he turned to tie up the few loose ends that remained from the field operations. Both missions were successes, but the success was bittersweet in many ways, foremost being that there was now a war in their goddamned backyard.

            Isoc was enraged that he couldn't stop himself from wondering how many others would join Commander Yammark in the next few hours.