I do have a disclaimer in the beginning of the first chapter, but now I
also have to say that I do not own the product Diet Coke, although I have
several cans in my fridge. They make me happy. I am an insomniac, and am
writing this at 3:38 in the morning, so I hope it isn't too bad. Thank God
for spell check. And thanks again to my reviewers; it brings me such great
joy to get mail. Heehee. Ok, on with the next chapter.
Chapter 6
"Hurry up and get it over with, you idiots," Psycho growled as three of Dread's agents worked to extract Max Steel's unconscious form from the car. Although not having as strong effect on him as they did on Max, EMP pulses still made the cyborg cranky. Adding to his bad mood was the fact that Dread's beloved grandchild was going to be staying at the base for the next week. Psycho hated the girl. Dread had given her a job in his organization, which seemed to be "irritate the cyborg". Dread's underling could already hear Abigail's voice in his head. "Come here. Go away. Get me a drink. Get away from my car you can opener." Psycho jumped. That last one had been too real...
Looking up, he saw Abigail with her arms folded, leaning against her Mercedes, which Psycho had almost walked into, lost in his thoughts. She cast a quick glance at Max, and then strode off towards the building from which Psycho had come. "I'll be in my office," she called over her shoulder, "bring me a Diet Coke...Smiley." With that, she flicked her long hair and disappeared through the huge steel doors guarding the compound.
Psycho stood staring at the doors for a few seconds, too enraged to do anything. When he finally came to his senses, he turned around and yelled at Max, still lying on the ground where he had been left. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Psycho screamed, kicking the agent in the side.
Rachel and Kat raced towards N'Tek in Rachel's convertible. The older agent concentrated on navigating the streets at 75 MPH while Kat tried frantically to reach Berto on her cell phone. When he didn't pick up on the third try, she tried for Jefferson Smith instead.
"Hello?" Smith picked up on the second ring. Kat breathed a sigh of relief.
"Smith, it's Kat, something's wrong, and Berto's not answering at the lab. We can't contact Max either."
Not one to ask questions in time of crisis, Smith put Kat on hold while he sent Jake Nez and Chuck Marshack down to see why Berto couldn't be contacted. When he got back, he informed Kat that when this was all over, she was expected in his office. Kat groaned as she hung up the phone. "Guess I should've called in, huh?"
"It would certainly have made things easier, but it's likely that your phone probably wouldn't have worked. I'm surprised your cell phone hasn't been disabled."
"Huh?"
"Well, they wouldn't have wanted you to contact us to say you weren't coming in today, because then you would've blown their whole plan."
"Oh."
"Anyway, are you feeling any better?"
"Mostly, but that Abigail bitch better hope that I never see her again."
Max woke to find himself in a cell with concrete walls on three sides and floor bars of steel of steel on the fourth side which Max knew from experience were probably electrically charged.
"Why does my side hurt so much?" he groaned to himself.
"That was a little gift," came a voice from outside of the cell.
Max turned and saw Psycho standing at the bars staring at him with a murderous look. "But I didn't get you anything," Max said.
"That was for introducing the nickname "Smiley" to Dread's granddaughter," growled Psycho.
"What are you talking about; I don't know Dread's granddaughter!"
"No?" a woman's voice came from the back corner of the room, where she had been standing, arms folded. Max gasped as the woman stepped out of the shadows.
"Abby?!" She looked so different from the N'Tek intern he had worked with.
"That's right, Steel. Well, thought I'd put in an appearance before retiring to my office. Have fun with Smiley."
Psycho's claw opened and closed at his side. "I'll cut your hair off in your sleep, you miserable little brat," he muttered.
Abigail whirled around. "What was that?" She had a deadly look on her face that shocked Max. There was no way this woman was Abby.
Psycho, seeing the look, stared down at the floor, and said "I'll go get you your soda."
"Good lawn mower."
This time he waited until the woman had left the room to explode. He stomped across the room and out the opposite door, and Max heard the sounds of a soda machine being thrown against the wall.
When finally, Rachel slowed to park her car in front of the N'Tek building, Kat jumped over the side, not waiting for the car to stop. Rachel understood her hurry. Both agents were worried about Berto, not always the most capable of defending himself physically. Once inside, Rachel had opted for the elevator, while Kat had taken the emergency stairs. Both reached Team Steel's floor at the same time, and ran down the hall together. When they got to the room Berto usually occupied, there was no one there. The big screen in front of the console was black. Rachel swore. Both Berto and Max were missing. Just then, Jake Nez came rushing through the door.
"Good, you guys are finally here. Berto's in the med bay, come on."
"You go, Kat. I'll stay here and try to contact Max."
Kat hesitated, and then nodded, following Nez out the door, both of them running. Rachel sat down at the console. She knew how to work it reasonably well, but she knew no one was better at it than Berto. She realized that he had been teaching Abigail to use it as well, and had commented at how easily she had taken to it. Rachel wanted to slam her head against the wall. How had they all missed it? How could no one notice that there was something wrong with the new girl? How?! Not the time, Leeds, she told herself. Right now you have to concentrate on finding Max. The first thing Rachel noticed was that the monitor was not actually on. Switching it on, no sound came through, and the only things on the screen were static with the words "signal failure" in red letters. Rachel swore again.
Abigail sat in her comfy leather chair with her feet propped up on the mahogany desk in front of her. She laughed as she read emails from her laptop, on the desk next to her feet. Her acting courses had only been enhancements of her natural skills. Whenever she traveled with her grandfather, she would always scope out the nice-looking guys, and mess with their minds a bit. She had a nice collection of jewelry from them, and they always sent her long, sappy emails confessing their love for her. These were a never-ending source of entertainment for her. She loved exploiting the stupidity of the male race. At that moment, there came a knock on the door. Speaking of exploiting stupidity, she thought to herself with a smirk. "Come in, Toaster." The door opened, and Psycho came in and slammed the can of coke onto the desk. "What's this?" Abigail asked quizzically as she studied the can."
"It's can of Diet Coke, exactly what you asked for."
"Why would I for Diet Coke? Do I look like I need to go on a diet to you?" her eyes flashed dangerously. She was in perfect shape, and she knew it.
"N-no of course not, but I thought you said..."
"GET OUT OF MY OFFICE, YOU MORONIC TOASTER OVEN!!!" Abigail stood up and screamed at him. The cyborg cowered in fear and ran from the office. As soon as she knew he was out of hearing range, the woman exploded into fits of hysterical laughter. She picked up the can and popped the lid. How she loved tormenting her grandfather's henchmen. Psycho was her favorite object of torment because of his frightening appearance. She loved seeing him shrink away from her in fear. He should be afraid of her. She recalled the one time Psycho had dared question her authority. When she had first started out "working" for her grandfather, Psycho had actually been a normal man, going by the name Fred Erickson. Refusing her orders again and again, he had gotten on her nerves, and their verbal conflicts would shake the building. At the end of one of these arguments, taking place in the weaponry room, he had finally blown his fuse, throwing a punch at her. She had easily ducked it and thrown one of her own. Soon they were both going full out at each other.
When word of the battle reached John Dread, he had wandered down to the room in which the fight was taking place. He pulled up a chair to watch the action. He did not fear for his granddaughter's well-being. He had trained her himself. Seeing Dread sit down to watch, Abigail waved at him, blew him a kiss while ducking to avoid one of Psycho's high kicks. He nodded his head towards a large sword in a display case on Abigail's right side. She had raised her eyebrows at him, and he had smiled and nodded his approval. Flipping across the floor, she had smashed the glass display case with her foot mid-flip, and had the sword in her hand by the end of the movement. She saw a flicker of fear in her opponent's eyes, but then Fred ran towards a rack on the wall, taking off a hunting rifle. He stood confidently and aimed it at her. She smiled and ran towards him, the sword held over her shoulder.
When the fight was over, she had stood over Fred's dying body, wiping the bloody sword off with a cloth. "We don't just leave loaded guns lying around on display, you psycho." Placing the sword back in the display case, she went over to her grandfather.
"You do beautiful work, my dear."
"I could've beaten him without the sword," she had said, pouting.
"I know that, but I needed him to end up in the state he is now," he gestured towards the man's mangled body.
"You wanted me to kill him?" she asked doubtfully.
"No, no, of course not. I just wanted you to make it so that he could not survive without...extensive work done."
After weeks of surgery, John Dread had finally been able to put his latest research into use. Fred Erickson was patched up as best as doctors could do, and body parts that could not be saved were replaced with machinery. Technically, Erickson had died four times during the transformation, but at the end he emerged, stronger than he had ever been, because he was now no longer human. Abigail and John Dread had watched most of the process through large glass windows looking into the operation room. On the last day of surgery Dread had turned to his granddaughter and asked what Erickson's new name should be.
Remembering her words to the man after their battle, she smiled evilly and suggested the two-syllable name that she though most fitting. "Psycho."
Well, it is now 4:43, yes; this took a long time to write because on top of being an insomniac, I am also a master of procrastination. Sigh, anyway, my internet isn't working right, so I apologize if this takes a day or so to put up.
Chapter 6
"Hurry up and get it over with, you idiots," Psycho growled as three of Dread's agents worked to extract Max Steel's unconscious form from the car. Although not having as strong effect on him as they did on Max, EMP pulses still made the cyborg cranky. Adding to his bad mood was the fact that Dread's beloved grandchild was going to be staying at the base for the next week. Psycho hated the girl. Dread had given her a job in his organization, which seemed to be "irritate the cyborg". Dread's underling could already hear Abigail's voice in his head. "Come here. Go away. Get me a drink. Get away from my car you can opener." Psycho jumped. That last one had been too real...
Looking up, he saw Abigail with her arms folded, leaning against her Mercedes, which Psycho had almost walked into, lost in his thoughts. She cast a quick glance at Max, and then strode off towards the building from which Psycho had come. "I'll be in my office," she called over her shoulder, "bring me a Diet Coke...Smiley." With that, she flicked her long hair and disappeared through the huge steel doors guarding the compound.
Psycho stood staring at the doors for a few seconds, too enraged to do anything. When he finally came to his senses, he turned around and yelled at Max, still lying on the ground where he had been left. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Psycho screamed, kicking the agent in the side.
Rachel and Kat raced towards N'Tek in Rachel's convertible. The older agent concentrated on navigating the streets at 75 MPH while Kat tried frantically to reach Berto on her cell phone. When he didn't pick up on the third try, she tried for Jefferson Smith instead.
"Hello?" Smith picked up on the second ring. Kat breathed a sigh of relief.
"Smith, it's Kat, something's wrong, and Berto's not answering at the lab. We can't contact Max either."
Not one to ask questions in time of crisis, Smith put Kat on hold while he sent Jake Nez and Chuck Marshack down to see why Berto couldn't be contacted. When he got back, he informed Kat that when this was all over, she was expected in his office. Kat groaned as she hung up the phone. "Guess I should've called in, huh?"
"It would certainly have made things easier, but it's likely that your phone probably wouldn't have worked. I'm surprised your cell phone hasn't been disabled."
"Huh?"
"Well, they wouldn't have wanted you to contact us to say you weren't coming in today, because then you would've blown their whole plan."
"Oh."
"Anyway, are you feeling any better?"
"Mostly, but that Abigail bitch better hope that I never see her again."
Max woke to find himself in a cell with concrete walls on three sides and floor bars of steel of steel on the fourth side which Max knew from experience were probably electrically charged.
"Why does my side hurt so much?" he groaned to himself.
"That was a little gift," came a voice from outside of the cell.
Max turned and saw Psycho standing at the bars staring at him with a murderous look. "But I didn't get you anything," Max said.
"That was for introducing the nickname "Smiley" to Dread's granddaughter," growled Psycho.
"What are you talking about; I don't know Dread's granddaughter!"
"No?" a woman's voice came from the back corner of the room, where she had been standing, arms folded. Max gasped as the woman stepped out of the shadows.
"Abby?!" She looked so different from the N'Tek intern he had worked with.
"That's right, Steel. Well, thought I'd put in an appearance before retiring to my office. Have fun with Smiley."
Psycho's claw opened and closed at his side. "I'll cut your hair off in your sleep, you miserable little brat," he muttered.
Abigail whirled around. "What was that?" She had a deadly look on her face that shocked Max. There was no way this woman was Abby.
Psycho, seeing the look, stared down at the floor, and said "I'll go get you your soda."
"Good lawn mower."
This time he waited until the woman had left the room to explode. He stomped across the room and out the opposite door, and Max heard the sounds of a soda machine being thrown against the wall.
When finally, Rachel slowed to park her car in front of the N'Tek building, Kat jumped over the side, not waiting for the car to stop. Rachel understood her hurry. Both agents were worried about Berto, not always the most capable of defending himself physically. Once inside, Rachel had opted for the elevator, while Kat had taken the emergency stairs. Both reached Team Steel's floor at the same time, and ran down the hall together. When they got to the room Berto usually occupied, there was no one there. The big screen in front of the console was black. Rachel swore. Both Berto and Max were missing. Just then, Jake Nez came rushing through the door.
"Good, you guys are finally here. Berto's in the med bay, come on."
"You go, Kat. I'll stay here and try to contact Max."
Kat hesitated, and then nodded, following Nez out the door, both of them running. Rachel sat down at the console. She knew how to work it reasonably well, but she knew no one was better at it than Berto. She realized that he had been teaching Abigail to use it as well, and had commented at how easily she had taken to it. Rachel wanted to slam her head against the wall. How had they all missed it? How could no one notice that there was something wrong with the new girl? How?! Not the time, Leeds, she told herself. Right now you have to concentrate on finding Max. The first thing Rachel noticed was that the monitor was not actually on. Switching it on, no sound came through, and the only things on the screen were static with the words "signal failure" in red letters. Rachel swore again.
Abigail sat in her comfy leather chair with her feet propped up on the mahogany desk in front of her. She laughed as she read emails from her laptop, on the desk next to her feet. Her acting courses had only been enhancements of her natural skills. Whenever she traveled with her grandfather, she would always scope out the nice-looking guys, and mess with their minds a bit. She had a nice collection of jewelry from them, and they always sent her long, sappy emails confessing their love for her. These were a never-ending source of entertainment for her. She loved exploiting the stupidity of the male race. At that moment, there came a knock on the door. Speaking of exploiting stupidity, she thought to herself with a smirk. "Come in, Toaster." The door opened, and Psycho came in and slammed the can of coke onto the desk. "What's this?" Abigail asked quizzically as she studied the can."
"It's can of Diet Coke, exactly what you asked for."
"Why would I for Diet Coke? Do I look like I need to go on a diet to you?" her eyes flashed dangerously. She was in perfect shape, and she knew it.
"N-no of course not, but I thought you said..."
"GET OUT OF MY OFFICE, YOU MORONIC TOASTER OVEN!!!" Abigail stood up and screamed at him. The cyborg cowered in fear and ran from the office. As soon as she knew he was out of hearing range, the woman exploded into fits of hysterical laughter. She picked up the can and popped the lid. How she loved tormenting her grandfather's henchmen. Psycho was her favorite object of torment because of his frightening appearance. She loved seeing him shrink away from her in fear. He should be afraid of her. She recalled the one time Psycho had dared question her authority. When she had first started out "working" for her grandfather, Psycho had actually been a normal man, going by the name Fred Erickson. Refusing her orders again and again, he had gotten on her nerves, and their verbal conflicts would shake the building. At the end of one of these arguments, taking place in the weaponry room, he had finally blown his fuse, throwing a punch at her. She had easily ducked it and thrown one of her own. Soon they were both going full out at each other.
When word of the battle reached John Dread, he had wandered down to the room in which the fight was taking place. He pulled up a chair to watch the action. He did not fear for his granddaughter's well-being. He had trained her himself. Seeing Dread sit down to watch, Abigail waved at him, blew him a kiss while ducking to avoid one of Psycho's high kicks. He nodded his head towards a large sword in a display case on Abigail's right side. She had raised her eyebrows at him, and he had smiled and nodded his approval. Flipping across the floor, she had smashed the glass display case with her foot mid-flip, and had the sword in her hand by the end of the movement. She saw a flicker of fear in her opponent's eyes, but then Fred ran towards a rack on the wall, taking off a hunting rifle. He stood confidently and aimed it at her. She smiled and ran towards him, the sword held over her shoulder.
When the fight was over, she had stood over Fred's dying body, wiping the bloody sword off with a cloth. "We don't just leave loaded guns lying around on display, you psycho." Placing the sword back in the display case, she went over to her grandfather.
"You do beautiful work, my dear."
"I could've beaten him without the sword," she had said, pouting.
"I know that, but I needed him to end up in the state he is now," he gestured towards the man's mangled body.
"You wanted me to kill him?" she asked doubtfully.
"No, no, of course not. I just wanted you to make it so that he could not survive without...extensive work done."
After weeks of surgery, John Dread had finally been able to put his latest research into use. Fred Erickson was patched up as best as doctors could do, and body parts that could not be saved were replaced with machinery. Technically, Erickson had died four times during the transformation, but at the end he emerged, stronger than he had ever been, because he was now no longer human. Abigail and John Dread had watched most of the process through large glass windows looking into the operation room. On the last day of surgery Dread had turned to his granddaughter and asked what Erickson's new name should be.
Remembering her words to the man after their battle, she smiled evilly and suggested the two-syllable name that she though most fitting. "Psycho."
Well, it is now 4:43, yes; this took a long time to write because on top of being an insomniac, I am also a master of procrastination. Sigh, anyway, my internet isn't working right, so I apologize if this takes a day or so to put up.