Hi! Sorry, but my internet was down for a long time, but your wish is my command. Okay, so read on, and enjoy!
The Case Files of Agent Pleakley"Hurry, you stumbling buffoons! You move like mongoloids, you retarded bumblebees! SPREAD OUT!"
Lilo froze as the voices grew closer. The French- accented nasty voice of what seemed to be the leader commanded and insulted the grunting of the dissatisfied underlings who seemed to draw nearer and nearer every second. She glanced around in fear. What was she going to do? Looking down, she stared hard at the mysterious boy's unconscious face. Where those men looking for him? Where they the ones who hurt him? Why were these people trying to kill this boy? He really did look cute, so peaceful, kind of like he was dead (God she hoped not). His skin, though crusted with blood, looked like the spread over skin of a smooth, fresh peach. His hair was so dark that in the moonlight it kind of shone with an electric blue-
Enough! Lilo stopped herself. Out of all the times to be obsessing over a guy, this really wasn't it!
"Ow!" she heard a branch snap followed by a thump, and then the French accented voice scream out "DAMN THIS TROPCIAL FOLIAGE!!!"
Lilo snapped into action. Gathering her wits about her, she wrapped her hands around the boy's chest and dragged him further up the trail.
Only one thought ran through Lilo's mind:
Damn, this boy sure smells fine!
Okay, two thoughts:
How in the world are we going to get out of here?
She surely couldn't outrun the group of men hunting the boy, when she had to drag his unconscious body. Maybe if she could wake him up, they could run away to somewhere where she could care to his wounds, and he could tell her his story, maybe take her to a movie...
"Hey," she whispered to his face. "Could you get up now? Hey, there are people here who I think would really want to hurt you. So if you could get up now..."
The blue- haired cherub remained motionless. Lilo checked his pulse quickly to make sure he really wasn't dead, and sure enough he had a slow and faint pulse.
"BRANCHES!!! BRANCHES!!!"
Lilo spotted a large tree trunk to her side with the inside hollowed out by rot. She quickly shuffled the boy and herself into the cavity, then threw some bushes and twigs over the entrance to hide themselves.
Just in the nick of time, two flashlight beams lanced the air in front of her, and the group of men arrived at the spot where they were just at.
"Where is that little brat hiding?!" The leader, non other than Jacques von Hamsterviel himself, demanded. "Or did he drown at sea and get washed away?"
"He's here, but he couldn't have gone far, sir," a henchman informed, "There are traces of blood all over this area."
"That annoying boy, with his oh so arrogant teenage ways, when we find him I'm going to flay him alive myself!"
At hearing this Lilo unconsciously hugged the boy tighter to herself protectively.
As soon as she did though, he shifted about and groaned.
Hamsterviel outside stopped to listen.
"Did you hear that?" he asked.
Silence.
"...what?" a henchman whispered.
"A low grumbling sound, like that made by a wounded man," Hamsterviel walked around, feeling the area with his cane.
He moved closer and closer to the hollow tree trunk, the brass tip of the cane coming closer, closer and closer. Lilo shut her eyes tightly as the brass tip inched closer to her face...
"Actually, sir," a henchman offered, rubbing his stomach, "I think it was me. I am a little hungry,"
Hamsterviel stopped prodding with he cane. He looked down, and sighed.
"Imbeciles," is all he said.
Then, he got up and backed away from Lilo and the boy's position.
"Fine. Head back to the ship, dock it and find me a place to stay. Wherever that boy is, there's no way he's getting off this island. We'll find him,"
The group of men headed back down the path and to the beach. Lilo waited for what seemed like and eternity with this strange boy to her chest, waiting until all she could hear was the slow rhythm of the waves and her heartbeat. Slowly, she peaked her head outside and checked both directions of the trail to find nothing but the darkness of the new night. She cautiously dragged the boy back out to the trail, and waited. When no one jumped out to attack her, she looked at the boy, then at the trail, and sighed.
God, she thought, this is going to take a long time.
The front door of the Pelekai household opened silently with nothing but a soft creak. Lilo, panting hard and sweaty, stuck her head in and checked for any signs of her sister. She cautiously tiptoed in and looked for Nani. Walking into the living room, Lilo spotted a sleeping Nani in a sitting position on the couch. At the sight of this, Lilo felt a little guilty, since her sister had apparently been up waiting hours for her to come home. Then she remembered something, and went back outside. As quietly as she could, she dragged in the mysterious boy, who much to her surprise was much heavier than he looked. She reached the door to the basement and threw it open. Then she attempted to drag him downstairs, but when she pulled him along his head kept on hitting each step. Still, the boy seemed determined not to wake up. After finally getting him downstairs, hiding him behind some boxes and covering him with an old blanket Lilo slipped back upstairs and quickly checked on Nani. She was still sleeping.
Exhausted, Lilo went upstairs to get the First Aid kit. Maybe there was something she could do about his wounds, she told herself. Just as she walked up the stairs and was walking down the second floor hall to the bathroom, she accidently hit the tacky old vase of flowers on the table and knocked it over. It fell over with a clatter onto the table, spilling the flowers and water everywhere as Lilo froze, listening for Nani. When there was only silence, she breathed a sigh of relief, which gently nudged the vase over the edge to go crashing to the floor. Lilo froze again.
"Lilo?" a tired voice called out from below.
Crap, Lilo thought.
"Yeah?" Lilo answered meekly.
"Honey, are you home?" Nani inquired sleepily. "Come down here."
Lilo gulped and reluctantly tromped back downstairs into the living room, then stood in front of her sister as if she was innocent of any wrongdoing.
"Sit down, honey," Nani motioned.
Lilo joined her on the couch, and Nani held her hands.
"Lilo baby, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to say those things; it was just a bad day at the hotel. You know?" Nani explained.
Lilo nodded, and Nani went on.
"There is nothing I love about you more than your uniqueness. I don't want you to be like other girls, with their fakey highlights and quarterback boyfriends, Lilo. I love you for who you are. I just get so stressed out around here, but you remember what dad said; ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind-"
"-Or forgotten," Lilo finished, then looked down.
Nani stroked her sister's silky black hair. "Baby, I know you miss mom and dad, and so do I. I pray to God every single day for the strength to go on without them, even if I know I can't be as good parents. But never, never, never for one second think I would trade anyone in for you. Not even them,"
Lilo looked at her with a sheepish grin. "Not even for a rabbit?"
Nani smiled and tickled her stomach. "No, not even the prize-winning ones."
They fussed around and laughed for a minute.
"You know, you are," Lilo said after they calmed down a bit.
Nani looked at her quizzingly. "Are what?"
"A good parent, even if you don't really want to be," Lilo thought about all the things her sister had sacrificed over the years just for the sake of putting food on the table, "Though I wish you were only my sister again."
"Well Lilo, you can't always choose what you'll be," Nani rubbed her hair, "but you'll always be able to choose who you are."
They hugged for a long time, with a tenderness that had been missing over the hectic scatter of their busy lives before Nani separated, said goodnight and walked upstairs too her room.
Lilo sat there, thinking about what Nani said. Who she was? Who did she want to be really? After a while, she got up, went upstairs and found the First Aid Kit. Then she went down to the basement and looked in on the mysterious stranger from the beach, who was still in a deep sleep. Taking out a bottle of alcohol and a cloth, she started to gently wipe the boy's soft cheek clean of blood.
"Who am I?" she asked him softly. "Who do I want to be?"
With no reply, Lilo just gazed at him and smiled.
Click.
The little wheelie thing, it doesn't quite hit the flint.
Click. Click.
Trying to push it down doesn't help, and only leaves welts.Click, click, click,...
Getting nervous now...
CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK-
FLAILINGWILDLYNERVOUSLYABOUTTODIEFROM-
Foom!
The lighter finally came to life and the cigarette darted straight into the flame, the cherry bursting into a volatile mass. After a few puffs the cigarette was half gone and the rhythmic inhaling slowed down.
Agent Pleakley didn't get it. He didn't like the taste of cigarettes. He even coughed uncontrollably every time he inhaled the smoke. It was the job. It must've been the job. Working for the CIA doesn't exactly leave you with a calm state of mind, they say. He wasn't a very old man, in his early thirties with short brown hair on his head that he didn't know what to do with, scrawny arms and legs and the build of a coat rack. He was also wearing his usual government-issued blue suit and pathetic yellow tie, which while he thought was stylish only made his co-workers ridicule him more. Another puff, and he coughed raptly. Either these things or his job would kill him, he figured. Why did he even take this job? Oh yeah, his mother. She said it was good pay and good retirement, and that he would like it. Sigh. He had to remember to call her later time today.
"Agent Pleakley," the secretary called him.
"I swear I already filed it-"Pleakley coughed. "Yes?"
"The Assistant Director is ready to see you."
"Uh, okay..." Pleakley got up from his seat and walked towards the Assistant Director's door, when the secretary stopped him.
"Agent Pleakley," she called.
"Yes?"
"There's no smoking in a government building."
"Ah," Pleakley looked around, spotted a plant and instinctively snubbed his cigarette into it. Realizing what he did, he grinned sheepishly to the frowning secretary and stuffed the butt into his pocket.
"Sorry."
Pleakley shut the heavy oak doors behind him as silently as he could in hopes the Assistant Director of the CIA wouldn't see him. She was an elderly woman with peppered grey hair in a high bun, distinguished cheekbones and piercing steel blue eyes. She sat behind a big desk and though she was very thin, radiated a presence that made Pleakley wished he had a tail to put between his legs. Sitting in a chair in front of the desk was a big black man dressed in a sharp black suit with dark sunglasses and an earring. Pleakley took one look at him and gulped.
"You wanted to see me, Mr...Mrs..." he looked around the room for a name plaque of some kind. "Assistant Director?"
"Agent Pleakley," she gave him a powerful look, "I would like you to meet Agent Bubbles, one of our top intelligence operatives."
Pleakley looked strangely at the man. "Agent Bubbles?"
"Cobra Bubbles." The man pulled his shades down and glared. "Anything wrong?"
"No, no, no. I had a cousin named Cobra Bubbles. Yeah," Pleakley laughed nervously.
"Agent Pleakley, sit down." The Assistant Director commanded. "I have assurance from the DST that you are one of the best biological technology analysts available, and that you specialize in...unusual new advancements,"
"Ah yes," Pleakley stuck his chest out. "In fact, I have been studying these specially- bred mosquitoes in Sudan that are able to cause total colonic-"
"Agent Pleakley," the Assistant Director interrupted, "I am well aware of your current work, but I have called you here for reassignment to more pressing duties,"
Agent Pleakley shut up. "Okay," he said a little sadly. He had liked the mosquitoes.
"Now, Agent Pleakley, how well are you familiar with illegal genetic experimentation?" the Assistant director inquired.
"You mean like the manipulation of viruses to create stronger strains?"
"No, Agent Pleakley. I'm talking about something far more advanced and dangerous: artificial human construction."
"What?" Pleakley asked. "That's not possible. Human cloning is hard enough, but creating one from scratch..."
"Believe me, Mr. Pleakley, it is a reality." The Assistant Director assured.
"No, no, no, the human genome structure is too advanced, and as a trained expert in biological technology I think I would know if-"
Pleakley gasped as Agent Bubbles slammed a large manila folder with bold red letters reading 'classified" into his lap. He opened it up to find photos of a fat, balding Russian scientist in a lab coat and goggles, holding up a test tube to his eye.
"That is Doctor Jumba Jookiba, ex-head scientist of the Soviet Developmental Defense Program initiated during the last days of the Cold War." Agent Bubbles explained. "Its objective was to study the new field of biological weaponry for practical purposes, and Dr. Jookiba was the most intelligent biologist in all of the Soviet Union. It is reported that he had last been experimenting with ways of manipulating and even controlling the human gene sequence to the extent of being able to construct human beings to very exacting specifications. When the Soviet Union fell, however, the program was disbanded and Dr. Jookiba vanished. Over the years, though, there had been strange reports of erratic military action all over the world. In areas of intense civil conflict, key military leaders who have been endlessly tracked by the CIA for...liquidation to no avail have mysteriously been assassinated, sometimes with the whole regiments of soldiers protecting them totally wiped out."
"Now this wouldn't worry us too much, except that there have also been reports of likewise eliminations on the sides that the US government had been openly or not so supported." The Assistant Director continued. "That isn't even the most intriguing part, Agent Pleakley. The strangest thing is that in each assassination no large- scale troop movements capable of such destruction have been detected in the area. No signs of drawn out battles, no signs of collateral damage. In fact, according to analyses of each assassination scene, it's almost as if a lone figure had somehow infiltrated the premises and by himself destroyed everyone in sight."
Pleakley shuddered at the thought. "But...what does this have to do with biological technology?"
"Four years ago a satellite feed from a Ukranian nuclear weapons depot that came under attack happened to come across that grisly image."
Pleakley found a photo in the folder of a grim scene, a warehouse full of dead soldiers strewn all about. In the center of all the carnage stood quite out of place a dark young boy, about twelve, fully dressed in white military gear, holding a machine gun in one hand and a pair of goggles in the other, unaware of the camera.
"That's not all." The Assistant Director continued. "About a few months ago Agent Bubbles and our other intelligence operatives retrieved some flight information pertaining to Dr, Jookiba's movements. We actually tracked his position to a hotel in California under a false identity. And he wasn't alone,"
Pleakley shuffled the papers until he found a surveillance camera photo of Dr. Jookiba at a hotel desk accompanied by the same dark and mysterious- looking young boy, now sixteen years old. Even in the grainy photo Pleakley caught his stony stare.
"Who is...?"
"One of Dr. Jookiba's genetic experiments." Replied Agent Bubbles. "It was never known if he actually succeeded in creating an actual human prototype, but now we are certain. His movements among the years have matched the pattern of destruction around the world. It seems he has used his knowledge of genetics to build an advanced soldier so powerful he is able to defeat whole armies in his adolescent stage."
Pleakley was shocked. "D-do you have any other information on this...experiment?"
"Unfortunately, no." Agent Bubbles answered again. "We have only been able to track Jookiba and the experiments last whereabouts, and retrieve those lucky surveillance photos. But as a biologist you know the danger of the power to create advanced genetic mutants. Anyone who possesses such technology would be unstoppable in their agendas. Think about it ...the ultimate super weapon."
"Why...why are you telling me this?" Pleakley asked in a small voice.
"Because Agent Pleakley, the CIA, your country and maybe even the entire world needs your help. You are one of our top biological experts, and only you are able to assess and analyze this thing's strengths, capabilities and maybe even its weaknesses." The Assistant Director explained.
"Wait, if Dr. Jookiba possesses such a capability for world domination and the like, why hasn't he used his weapon in greater force?" Pleakley asked.
The Assistant Director thought about this. "We haven't quite figured that out yet, and that is where you come in. Intel has last tracked Dr. Jookiba on a cargo ship headed for Russia from California, but the ship was reported by GPS to have stopped in Hawaii. We were unable to determine who really owns the ship, and a sting operation could blow our cover. It seems as though Dr, Jookiba has disappeared again, and we're afraid there are other powers at work, powers who would stop at nothing to gain his genetic technology."
"What do you want me to do?" Pleakley regretted asking.
"You are to accompany Agent Bubbles to Hawaii in search of Jookiba and the experiment. Analyze the experiment's patterns, and if we are able to capture or destroy it, I want you to be the first to study the mutation."
"Is that all?" Pleakley asked again.
"Pretty much. Oh, you are to cooperate with military intelligence in tracking the dangerous experiment. You will be greeted by one of their representatives when you reach the islands. You leave tomorrow. Good luck, Agent Bubbles and Agent Pleakley. Don't let us down, for God's sake."
"Yes m'am...I mean sir...no, m'am," Pleakley almost saluted.
The Assistant Director shook both agents' hands and they left. As they got into the elevator, Pleakley plucked a fresh cigarette from a pack and put it to his lips. He had just lit it up when a large fist with gold rings and
C-O-B-R-A written on the knuckles squished the little cigarette to death, the cherry extinguishing with a hiss in Agent Bubble's flesh.
"No smoking in a government building," he reminded Pleakley.
Pleakley groaned. This was going to be a long trip.
And that was a very long chapter! Phew! Hope that explains a lot, I hope. Reminder: please R&R, if 'ya know what's good for you! ARGH!!!