Chapter two, hooray! I won't post another until I get AT LEAST three reviews, and I'll just let you know that I will raise it two reviews every chapter so I can keep this up. If you want chapter four then you will have to give me five and it's seven for chapter five, and so on.

Anyway, I know the chapters are sort of short, it's just I've already written a good deal of the story and it progresses pretty quick. Baisically I'm trying to suck out a few more chapters than I really should. So, since we've gotten my exploitation plan out of the way, I suggest you read the story so I don't have time to rant about The Man or communists. Or marketing scandals. Or lemon intolerance. Or octopus abuse. Or lobster sweatshops, or my new online college, Pigeon Online. Yeah you better go read, if you know what's good for your mental health.

One Week Later

"It happened again!"

"We have to stop it!"

"What are we going to do?"

"What can we do?"

"Where the hell is my sandwich?"

The hurried and frantic agents paced about the room, growing ever more frustrated. This was the fifth virus report this month, and it was all the same virus. Of course they knew who was dong it. It was the location that got them. They couldn't find any fragment of evidence that this person even existed. But he did, and everyday he could make another move.

These agents, though, did not want to stop the hacker. They wanted to catch him and meld him into the agency. They had caught many other criminals and used them in their missions. Why? Because they were programmable, expendable, and they work. Often they were the ones who knew what really mattered, as opposed to law-abiding citizens. Trustworthy they were; all the murderers, car boosters, vandals and average crooks. All fighting against The Man. The Man is tearing down the Amazon. The Man is destroying the ozone layer. The Man kidnapped Shamoo and put her in a chlorine tank. There used to be a way to stick it to the man. It was called rock and roll. But The Man ruined that too with a little thing called MTV. So don't try to put anything good or pure or awesome in the world, cuz the man's just gonna call you a fat, washed up loser and crush your soul. (AN: in case you didn't notice, this is The Man speech from School of Rock. Needless to say it doesn't belong to me...)

Oh how many times agent Gibbons had heart hat speech, he didn't know. He was the leader of the agency, the one who presented the criminal idea in the first place. Most of the people he picked up gave him an attitude until they eventually learned their place. And that place was a heroic one. It was like a child growing up; all kinds of new responsibilities.

Gibbons was by no means a man to cross. He wasn't particularly big, but his face had the expression of a hardened war vet. He was indeed a war vet; bearing a burn scar on his left cheek. As one of his recruits said to him, he was reminded of how fucked up this country is every time he looked in the mirror, though not in those exact words. The fact that most of the criminals didn't really like America didn't deter him and often he ignored their comments. He had pride in his country, and all the recruits had pride in themselves. Maybe they really did know what mattered more; you know, credit given where credit is due, but Gibbons certainly wasn't going to change his opinions.

Anyway, this hacker could really be useful to the agency and Gibbons was willing to go to any lengths to find him. He didn't even know what they looked like or where they lived. All he had was a name. Nikolai. He vowed to find this Nikolai and use him for important purposes.

Was the agency The Man too? It was kind of hard to say. But what was for certain was that they had brought down hundreds of opposing organizations and they wre doing it their way. As the same recruit mentioned before said, "Don't act all patrol cop, think PlayStation, blow shit up!"

Whoever Nikolai was, he certainly couldn't act by conventional methods and that was just what Gibbons was looking for. A few agents rushed up to him suddenly, waking him from his strategizing reverie.

"Sir!" they said breathlessly, "We got it! We got the location!"

"Xander, you're going to need to be careful you know."

"What is this shit Gibbons? Careful? Since when have I ever been careful?"

"Well you're not dead yet, are you?" the black man responded, staring at the dark eyed agent. Xander didn't reply. His shaved head gleamed slightly in the glow of the futuristic lighting. The strong right blue light ran down his heavily muscled arms, which were just as large as the muscles bulging out of his white tank. He sighed in his deep, rumbling voice and looked the other way. It wasn't in self-defeat but in annoyance at Gibbons. It was hard to tell which overpowered the other.

"X, I know you never really listen to me but I'm going to tell you again. BE. FUCKIN. CAREFUL."

"Whatever you say." Xander replied, standing up. Gibbons stood too and together they headed for the door. Gibbons handed X the address and bid him a final farewell.

"Hey, X" he called after the built white man. X turned. "Give my regards to Yelena." X nodded shortly and entered his precious car. Yelena was his girlfriend who he'd acquired while working his first case. Yelena was tied up in a mess involving a mass bomb. She had been undercover when her agency reformed and forgot about her. So she stayed in the mix of things for two more years before X found her. She wanted out and X disobeyed orders to help her. After a brief vacation in the Caribbean, they both returned to America. Yelena became a scientist, unwilling to continue a career as an agent. Now Xander rarely saw her and they were starting to drift apart. He would do anything to keep her but her bond to him wasn't as strong. Sure she had depended on him back when she was in deep, but after awhile she became much more independent.

X despised that. He wanted her—plain and simple. Her Russian accent, her slim body, her roughly pretty face, her innocent eyes and her not-so-innocent attitude. She didn't like to see people die, no. but if she had to kill, she would. He liked that in a person; the ability to do what you have to do when it has to be done.

Yelena was currently living in New York City. Xander was by the NSA base on Mt. Weather Virginia. Usually he wasn't there long, but sent out on missions. But none of those missions could match what he had grown to call the "Silent Night" case.

Now as Xander drove he tried not to thing about anything else but his current mission. Operation: capture hacker. He looked over at the computer installed in his dashboard which was currently flashing random information on the hacker.

"Nikolai, eh? Sounds like a pansy." X grumbled as he read glanced of the overview. Apparently Nikolai had just become active half a year ago and had taken down a few companies, all of which had a record of scams. That's why Gibbons wanted him so badly. X was actually hoping Nikolai wasn't a pansy. Maybe the hacker would be a kick ass person to hand out with. Maybe he liked cars and stunts and video games. Or maybe Nikolai was a computer nerd who made himself out to be more than he was. Maybe he was older than X, which was most likely. Even young geniuses would have problems getting into the company mainframes.

The tattooed white man turned back to the road. "K," he muttered, "Gonna bring this bastard in then call Yelena. She damn well better be there if she knows what's good for her."