Chapter 1: Welcome Home
In the months following the destruction of Black Ghost the cyborgs went their separate ways, each to the lives that had been stolen from them. While most went off in groups or pairs, Jet chose to return to America alone. 009 and 003 had offered him a room at their place in Japan, but he felt like that would be intruding. While the rest of the team was like family to him, Jet could see how 002 looked and 009, and he looked at her in the same way. Best leave the oblivious couple alone.
Back in New York, Jet was contacted by the CIA almost immediately. Two agents in clean suites met him at the airport baggage claim and introduced themselves blatantly. With no secrets kept they explained their desire to hire Jet as a free agent. He would be paid to live on American soil, on standby for any mission the government may feel he was suited for.
"So you want me to be your hired gun?" Jet asked darkly. The taller agent stiffened across the table and the smaller one gripped their coffee cup.
"That's a crude description of the situation, but yes." the smaller one said after a pause.
"We have been assured," their partner chimed in.
"You will not be requested for many missions, and they will all be on American territory. Mostly counter terrorism."
Jet swirled his half drunk mug, contemplating the validity of this claim, and whether or not the American government would keep its promise. Especially after next year's election. For years he had been the tool of others, a weapon in the hands of a higher power. After 70 years Jet was tired and wanted nothing more than to spend a day on the sofa watching TV. Such a mundane life seemed almost dream-like to him now, and with its realization so close the agent's offer felt like cheating.
"Can you give me time to consider it?" His request was polite, but the tone was impatient. Sensing that they had upset him the agents nodded and said their goodbyes, leaving him with a business card and burner phone. After they had left Jet finished his coffee, pocketed the items, collected his bags and was gone.
Jet's home city had not changed. Seventy years may have altered the skyline and traded old faces for new, but the city itself remained untouched by time. Sauntering down the sidewalk, dodging his fellow pedestrians, Jet soaked in the smells, sounds, and soul of New York. A mischievous smile crept across his face as the feeling of home sunk in. Double checking his map and the buildings around him, Jet turned into a tall brick building. The stairs were dirtier than he remembered and the elevator still made his gut lurch when it stopped, but this building also had not changed. Two years was not as long a time as 70, but a long time for some things. As he opened the door to his old temporary apartment Jet reflected on whether Cathy and Jimmy still lived across the hall. They had parted on good terms, but Jet knew all too well the truffles of a single parent.
Tossing his single bag on the bed Jet immediately flopped on the dusty loveseat couch, still sat before the small tellavision. The batteries in the remote were dead, but that meant nothing to Jet who clicked the TV on without getting up. Flipping through the channels Jet marveled at how many there were now, two years later, and all the programs he could watch. There might even be too many choices. After settling on some ball game, Jet tucked his arms under his head and let the noise wash over him. 003 would have hated New York, with her acute senses. Even Jet felt a bit overwhelmed by how much noise there was, and his hearing had not been altered. The ambient sound soon melted into a puddle of static as Jet dozed off on the couch, simply resting, finally. The world drifted away from him in a way that felt like floating on a lake, lulling Jet into the most fitful rest he'd had in 70 years. Just as he was preparing to shut down for the evening and night, he then heard it.