AN: Okay, forget what I said about the second chapter. The last was really long… but forget about what I said about the last one too. You know why? Because the next chappie is here! Finally, after a long while… Heh, heh. Now, if you look at the first scene, and have read 'Matrix Evolution' by outlaw torn, you will notice that it is quite opposite to what happened there. Why? Because when I read it, I felt the great, unyielding, unwavering urge to write an IceDevimon-bashing scene… literally 'bashing'. After what he did to Rika (if you know what I mean), it serves him just right. Burn in hell, you sick, perverted Popsicle! laughs ala Doctor Evil

ProcrastinatorMan: Well, I don't know if you'll be able to kick my ass, judging from the fact that I'm a quite a few thousand miles away from your location… speaking of which, I don't even know where you live. Heh, heh… mind telling me where?

Skittles the Sugar Fairy: Well, if you gotta get on with your behind-the-schedule fic, you gotta! Takato's Adventures in a Lost World, right? I think I'll check it out sometime… and uh… about my being 'evil'? Why don't you check my bio next time before you drop by my fics. They don't call me 'The Master of Disaster' for nothing… well, at least that's what I call myself, anyway…

Newbi: I won't tell you whether you hit the bull's eye concerning the S/R situation or not, although I will tell you that you've hit the target board. As for too many deaths, why don't we check that with a body count? Let's see… there's those two guards Jeri killed, Jeri herself, that renegade algorithm (if computer programs count), Skull Mammothmon, those two guards at the basement level hallway, Tyranomon, just about every Knight with the exemption of their leader, and Shinji Kaira. Hmm… that is a lot. And there's gonna be more… I think. So, I'll take your advice and heighten the rating. As for the Ryo and Kazu thing, you just gave me an idea… sniggers, thinking about more deaths Nah… that would be too bad. Just keep on reading, and see what comes out of it all.

ShinigamiBlade: You sound just like me a couple of years back when I read Blackheart's 'Storm of War' (for references, check out the Vandread section). Trust me… I'm no good at writing… even after double checking, I've made so many mistakes I even considered redoing the whole damned chapter again. Now that would take months…

Disclaimer: Okay, let me put it straight to you this time… my name is Fizzy 13, but that does not mean that I'm 13 years old. Hell no! I'm 16. I write fanfiction in different categories depending on which I feel like writing about. My current category is Digimon, more specifically, season 03, which is my favorite, because it's the best damned season I've seen yet. Frontier I don't give a damn about, and neither do I concern myself with 01 and 02, because I don't think they give a damn about me either. That, most of you probably think, is a bad thing, because I am limiting myself to one damned season. Well, I don't have any complaints whatsoever about that anyway, so what the hell? Just one other thing to tell you: I am so damned infatuated with Rika Nonaka/Ruki Makino for I don't know the hell reason why. Not that I think I should get laid with her or anything perverted like that… infatuated more in the sense an author has with a character… basically because I think she's very interesting for a character (actually, I ALWAYS think that Ice Queens are interesting. Don't know why… maybe because they're so cool? Get it? Cool? Heh, heh). One more thing (damn, I'm starting to sound like Jackie Chan's uncle): for those of you who actually have sick crossbreeding fantasies about her, I recommend that you check out 'Matrix Evolution' by outlaw torn, which I think is based on a doujinshi (did I just spell that right?) of the same title. Not that I actually like crossbreeding or anything like that… I just mentioned it for the sake of taking up space. One more thing (now I'm really starting to sound like Jackie Chan's uncle): I don't own Digimon Tamers or anything affiliated with it. The HONOR and GLORY all goes to Toei and Bandai for doing such a damned great job with it. The only things I own here are: first and foremost, my damned sub-zero megahertz computer, the concept of Network Security, the concept of the Agency, and thus, the characters affiliated with mentioned organizations. One more thing (Now you know how Jackie Chan feels when his uncle bugs him): I also own Hypnos… just kidding.

MONTH TWO: PROGENY

Moscow, Beijing, and Tokyo International

Volkov Monument, Volkov Park, Moscow

Sunday, 2147 hours, Local Time, One Month After Invasion of NS-8…

          Icy winds disturbed the usual silence of the white darkness that covered the scene. Naked trees swayed, dropping heaps of frozen crystals onto the colder ground snow as the gales went by. NS-4 Tamer Yuri Komanov clutched his trench coat tighter to himself in order to fight the biting chill that threatened to turn him into a Popsicle as he walked forth. It wasn't like he wasn't used to these kinds of temperatures, though. He'd spent over a year roaming the streets of Moscow, shunned by people by day, enduring the frozen temperatures by night. He had been an orphan for more than half his life, the situation leading to his current state being somewhat comical.

He and his parents were out on a trip to Moscow one afternoon, when a warp field containing two battling Digimon appeared - one of which killed his parents. Funny enough, the other, which he assumed to be the underdog of the fight, beseeched him for help. What could he do? He went with his heart as opposed to what his head was telling him: to get out of there as soon as possible and call the Militia. In the end, the two of them emerged victorious, and soon enough, a light appeared in midair like a beacon and descended into his palm, materializing into a Red Power D-Arc. He had no use for it at the time, of course, because the president had banned the importation of Digi-Battle Cards, hence, no cards to use.

          The two of them spent the next 16 months wandering without house, their home being wherever they went. Sleeping in alleys with the few homeless people out there, eating from scraps found in the dumpster, the usual things that homeless people did. All that changed however, when he first met Aleksander Tezansky, Director of NS-4. The man had raised him and Agumon as the children he never had… Indeed, Yuri never really could remember his parents that well; not at all, in fact. The past, he had left behind in order to embrace the present. Tezansky was now his real father, the only remembrance that he was of different blood being his retained surname. Now, though, even that no longer seemed to matter.

          He neared his destination, a cloud of digital origin, which Virgin had detected some 30 minutes earlier, engulfing the entirety of Volkov's Memento, meaning that it could now be possibly nothing more than a piece of scrap if that Digimon had been screwing around with it. That idea brought a thoughtful frown to his face as he ran his gloved hand through his spiky scarlet mane. His emerald eyes darted into the mist of the warp field… nothing.

          There's only one thing left to do then, he thought as he brought out his Arc along with the deck of cards that NS-4 had given him, taking out one of his most commonly used. The Siberian winds howled in anticipation of another soul to carry as the Russian Tamer prepared to utilize the device that had been given of him by fate. "Digimodify!" he ran the chosen card through the reader, "Digivolution! Activate!"

          EVOLUTION…

          "Agumon Digivolve to…" as with most versions of the class one digivolution process, several bands of digital origin seemingly devoured Agumon, their color matching his power classification: red. His yellow skin peeled off to reveal his raw form, nothing but a wire frame of his original self. This basic figure was coated with a new surface, a new skin; one that was rougher, one that looked more powerful… Agumon had ascended to a higher level of existence, the name of which he announced proudly, "Greymon!"

          Yuri took another peek into the shrouds of the warp field… finally he could see something. It was nothing more than a silhouette, but he had enough experience with Digi-Battle cards and the real thing to be able to determine that its chassis was of the Devimon classification. What its power type was, however, he had derived from the fact that the temperature in the area was several degrees colder than usual. A peek at his D-Arc had confirmed his suspicions, "IceDevimon, Virus Type Ice Devil Digimon at Champion Level…" he considered this for a moment, "Its signature attack is Frost Claw," and chuckled, apparently disappointed at, so to speak, what the cat had dragged in.

          He'd heard of a similar incident that had occurred in Japan in, more or less, a little over five years ago, although the situation itself was completely absurd. Virgin had detected several D-Signals within the Shinjuku sector, although she dismissed them as glitches in her tracking system because of their continued phasing-in and phasing-out. It was practically too late to send a containment unit when she had finally realized her error and confirmed that there really was a Digimon running around in Tokyo. Apparently, the three Tamers involved had terminated it out of their own initiative. News reached him concerning one of those Tamers' recruitment into NS-8 several months later, almost immediately after the downfall of the D-Reaper. Why the United Nations had ordered all NS Cells to stand down during that entire half-year incident was still a complete mystery, even to the Executive Twelve.

          "You," Yuri called out at the figure within the mist, "Should know that by entering our realm without authorization, you have violated several laws that have been in function for the last 22 years!"

          "Human Laws, no doubt…" boomed a deep bass voice in response, "Laws which do not apply to one such as myself. Do you have any idea who I am?"

          It sounded more of a challenge than a question, and Yuri was beginning to lose his patience with this conceited program to the point that he was willing to delete him personally… even if those weren't his orders. Fortunately enough, they were his orders. "You," he replied, "Are a felon who will be deleted very soon if you don't comply with the laws of this realm."

          "Hah!" the voice seemed to be provoked at what had been said of him, "I will make you eat those words of yours, human. You truly have no idea of who or what I am! And when you do, I will shove them down your throat and choke you with them!" The figure lunged forth, unimaginably swift, despite its enormous height of at least nine feet, and its practically non-aerodynamic-looking form, "Frost Claw!"

          In the heat of their verbal battle, both forgot about the third personality in the immediate area, who once again made himself known as he stepped in between them, catching the frozen claw between his own two, a highly successful interception if Yuri ever saw one. Greymon's inertia fought against the white demon's own, his body's full weight being pushed back by several inches, ever so slowly, for the next few seconds, until finally, his opponent's feet made contact with the snow once more. "If you wanna get to Yuri, you're gonna have to get through me first!"

          "That will be my pleasure!" IceDevimon eagerly roared as he renewed his effort to break through the reptilian barrier standing between him and his human prey. He'd heard of a similar occurrence with one of his own kind. Well, not exactly familiar, but only a little. The other one wanted a little girl to become his partner; he wanted this boy dead. Unfortunately for the other guy, he was deleted. He was going to make sure that he wouldn't follow suit.

          "I really could use some help here, Yuri!" Greymon beseeched his partner once again.

          The Tamer reacted by drawing out one of his favorite cards from the deck and used it, "Digimodify! Activate Beast Energy!" A moment later, he heard the cracking of something similar to bone… perhaps what was truly bone, but more probably just data that mimicked the said body part. That specific 'bone' data belonged to IceDevimon's offending hand. The snow-colored devil howled in pain as he was sent flying back several feet and into the warp field by Greymon's follow-up punch, landing in a pile of snow that went up in the explosion of his impact. That last blow had broken at least two ribs, which he clutched in frustration. It looked like it was going to be harder than that other situation.

          The Blue Element Digimon snarled as he rose to his feet, with the intention of retaliating with another Frost Claw attack. Intending to do so was as far as Greymon would let him go, though, because at precisely the next moment, he unleashed his signature finishing attack, "Nova Blast!" The giant fireball sailed into the warp field, clearing its mists as it zeroed in for the kill. IceDevimon could not react; he was paralyzed at the sight of the thing, which upon making contact with his form obliterated him into countless bits of data that Greymon had loaded into himself with what could not be described with words except for some non-existing vocabulary entry that meant 'several magnitudes greater than eager'. At that absorption, the warp field subsided, and radio traffic within the vicinity returned to normal.

          Yuri's comlink chirped, "Da?"

          It was NS-4's comm. officer, Mikhail Naridekno, "Agent Komanov, the Militia is headed in your way and will arrive at your location in ten minutes." NS-4, not to mention any NS Cell for the matter, had the authority to operate within the given jurisdiction, but never with any direct contact with operatives from other agencies present. They would not even risk posing as members of some stupid group for possibility of being checked with said agency and be found out as lying. The only solution was to move in, fix the problem, and move out before the locals get there. "Director Tezansky has something to tell you, so hurry up. Your escape route has already been downloaded into your palm pilot via satellite connection. Good luck."

          The Tamer checked his palmtop computer, and, sure enough, a map of Volkov Park had appeared in his inbox, the escape route marked in red. "Copy that, Headquarters. We'll be there in half an hour. Komanov out." By this time, Agumon had reverted to rookie level and was doing some kind of cross between the Siberian Steppes and jumping jacks, "Hey, let's go. You can do that at home."

          The dinosaur Digimon looked at his partner with watery eyes, "But Yuri, this is so much fun!"

          "Do you want to be caught by the Militia and interrogated?" Agumon remained silent, realizing the graveness of the situation, "Of course not. Now let's go." Yuri began to stroll in the direction of the said escape route, followed shortly by his yellow partner, apparently disappointed that he had to cut his jig for a while. The two vanished into the cold winter night, their tracks covered up soon enough by the descending flakes of cold crystals.

Director's Office, 14th Floor of NS-8 Headquarters, Shinjuku, Tokyo

Tuesday, 0214 hours, Local Time…

          NS-8 Director Akira Sakamori eyed the sign on his personal terminal, which read, "Two Messages Received." It had been a long time since anybody had e-mailed him… ever. Well, nobody e-mailed him just to say hello… most came because of business matters mostly sent by fellow members of the Executive Twelve. Well, there was that one occasion around three weeks ago wherein Jeri's parents sent him a most interesting message. They thanked him for giving Jeri at least some experience with the real world. This was in reply to the message he sent them with the topic: 'Condolences', wherein he apologized for not being able to look after her properly. To think he was just starting to get close to that family, that was when tragedy struck. Of course, Jeri knew the risks she was taking when she entered the building alone. She had died while performing her duty, at least shedding some light on how important Project: Toto-Con was to the Agency, perhaps even to the world.

          He silently prayed to the gods that at least one of them wouldn't be of NS origin as he moved his mouse cursor over the link and clicked. "You know," a digitized female voice broke the silence, "One of them even has a video clip attached to it! Now wouldn't that be interesting to watch?" Alas, Sakamori's prayer had not been heard, for both senders were members of the Executive Twelve: Aleksander Tezansky of NS-4, the Eastern European NS Cell, and Felipe Santiago of NS-5, the upper South American NS Cell. Both messages were marked with the topic: Business as Usual, which the E-12 had agreed upon to be Network Security's cover topics for Operational Messages of great urgency.

          "Pick Tezansky's message first," Virgin chimed, apparently trying to help him out with his dilemma of not being able to decide which to choose, "It's the one with a video clip attached." For as long as he could remember, although Virgin's voice was that of a woman, she had the attitude of a child, which was probably a very strange thing given the fact that she was the most intelligent program in existence up to date. Not that Network Security had plans of having her replaced or anything. They had designed her with self-awareness, and thus, she was sentient… she learned… she had a sense of thought… she had a mind of her own. How could one tell? The criterion for differentiating thought from programming was given away by British mathematician Alan Turing around the late 40's. If one could carry out a prolonged conversation with a computer without being able to distinguish between its replies and those that a man might give, then the computer was thinking, by any sensible definition of the word. Virgin had obviously passed the Turing test with frighteningly flying colors.

          "If you say so…" Sakamori clicked on the first link. The message was simple, "Whole message is in attachment." He scrolled down, locating the link to the video message, which he clicked immediately.

          At once, the screen was filled with the scenery of the NS-4 Director's office, Tezansky's face itself in the middle, "Comrade Sakamori, it is good that you take this message into consideration, for I am in most dire need of assistance from your NS Cell. NS-4 Intelligence Section has determined that Agency's Directors are having meeting somewhere in Moscow sometime within week. That is to say, before weekend here in Russia." The Russian's face became grave. Apparently, the situation his NS Cell was in now definitely needed intervention. "However, due to Comrade President's Decree to super-upsize Mother Russia's involvement with Global Internet Community, NS-4's resources are focused there to (the) point that we were unable to locate time and place of Agency Directors' meeting, although, we did manage to get an operative to try to determine them. Unfortunately, his search is without success. Listen, Comrade Sakamori… I need you to send help for Yuri. Help him find time and place of Agency Directors' meeting. I don't have to tell you how critical situation that befell us is, not only to Network Security, but to security of entire world itself. Hopefully, at last, we will be able to determine identity of Agency's Directors, and from there, slowly destroy them. May spirit of Mother Russia guide your decision, Comrade. That is all…" The message ended as abruptly as it began.

          "Well, that was an SOS if I ever saw one," Sakamori's invisible companion commented. Virgin didn't exactly have a physical 'center' of consciousness; although if Sakamori would mention its location in that sense, he would say that it lay within the infinite bounds of the network. Network Security R&D teams were ambitious enough to try to solidify that hypothetical 'center' of consciousness. For the past decade or so, they have been developing, under the Executive Twelve's supervision, a digital body for Virgin. Its structure was similar to that of your average Guardian Algorithm, although its capacity was more than enough to hold her entire consciousness within. The only setbacks included the fact that she would no longer be capable of multitasking, i.e. managing all NS Cells' technical detail simultaneously.

          "Definitely…" Sakamori himself was very excited about this. His mind and heart were unanimous in their decision to go with Tezansky's request, "This is the big break we've been waiting for ever since we discovered the Agency… a chance to behead the beast…"

          "Of course, the Agency would look much funnier if it were a chicken," Virgin piped a joke, "I'd be able to see it running around without a head for quite a long time…" She probed the trivia she had managed to gather from the Internet thus far, "Did you know, that the record for the longest surviving headless chicken was four years?"

          "What?" Sakamori wasn't really paying that much attention, since he was reading the message sent by Santiago.

          "It was in Charles County, Virginia, I recall," the greatest sentience in the network rambled on, "Its name was Mike, and around 1987, he was scheduled to be beheaded for butchering. His owner chopped off his head, but his brain, and pretty much most of his spine had survived and somehow managed to get down into his neck. Farmer John – let's just call him Farmer John – was amazed at that, and so continued to take care of Mike instead, by injecting nutrients and water into his system via hypodermic needle. That had to hurt. The same thing went about every day, until some time in 1991, Mike's headless predicament killed him. Do you know how?"

          "How?" the NS-8 Director instinctively answered, not listening at all, because of the piece of information he'd just arrived at concerning a Pan-Digital Converter. This device, according to what Santiago wrote, was capable of transmogrifying matter's composition into data and back again. The bad news? If it fell into the wrong hands, whomever those hands belonged to could easily smuggle whatever dirty shit he or she had into any national border simply by using the Internet as a medium. The worse news? Santiago mentioned that the Agency had successfully developed such a device within his jurisdiction. The good news? He'd had a High-Risk Retrieval – HRR – Team sneak into the Agency's Brazilian branch and steal it. The point of the message? Because NS-5's labs were incapable of examining such a complicated device (NS-5 and NS-6 were relatively small and underdeveloped compared to the other NS Cells), Santiago was compelled to send it over to NS-8 for a far more precise dissection. It was a rendezvous.

          "Being headless means being eyeless, right?"

          "Right…" he deleted both messages and considered who he could possibly send to do such jobs.

          Virgin continued her trivia talk, "And being eyeless means being blind, right?"

          "Right…" Sakamori had figured who to pick (at least he thought so. He'd have to consult with Pan about this), and was about to reach his phone in order to contact Aya Sazaki – NS-8's resident super genius and Optec Supervisor – that he might be able to commission her to start working on the technical quota of the following two operations.

          "Well, being blind, Mike wasn't exactly able to see the oncoming 18-wheeler truck that sped down the highway he was running around on, and… got run over."

          "Too bad for him…" he brought the receiver to his ear and dialed the number of NS-8's operator. He was greeted with a cheery, "Good evening sir, how may I help you?" Evening? It was 2 AM in the morning… somebody had to get that operator's shift changed, "Get me Aya Sazaki's quarters. I need to have a little chat with her."

          "Copy that, sir." The operator chirped, "Please wait for a few minutes." Piano music that was common to 'waiting' line status began to play, allowing the NS-8 Director to focus more on his immaterial girl.

          "Well, Mike's memory is still celebrated to date with the annual Charles County Mike the Chicken Beheading Day, with games, games, more games, and of course, fried chicken." Virgin cracked at that last fragment, letting out a semi-hysterical laugh similar to that of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. The gifted composer, besides being a genius, had a very strange laugh similar to a witch's cackle.

          Sakamori sighed as he eyed the surveillance camera in the top corner of the room left to the sliding door, supposing that as how she was 'looking' at him at the time, "Listen, Virgin. I have no time for your jokes right now. I have to arrange for the next operations. Please understand that these are matters of Network Security."

          The Virtual Digital Nexus seemingly retreated from Sakamori, apparently throwing a silent temper tantrum within the confines of her realm. He breathed a sigh of relief as the music stopped and the sound of a receiver being picked up was heard, "Aya Sazaki speaking, what's up?"

          "It's Sakamori, Aya. How're you doing today?"

          "Oh, hi, chief!" the voice on the other line was young, no older than pubescent at the most. True, Aya was only 14, but she was a genius. She belonged to the rare breed you could only find on television such as Dexter, or Jimmy Neutron. They had recruited her eight years earlier, when the results of her Grade 1 IQ test spiked above most others in Tokyo with a whopping 198. Now, most people would look at somebody with an intelligence quotient of above 160 and regard him or her as a real nutcase, but upon meeting her in person, Sakamori knew that she was capable of being of great use to NS-8's Optec Division. A few years of training, some familiarization with NS-8's equipment, and a whole lot of lectures later, she was locking herself up in the Optec Center, making all sorts of 'Plain Sight' gadgets. "What's up?"

          "I need you to work on some equipment for a High Risk Courier Operation, and a Maximum Risk Eavesdropping Operation. Think you can do that in less than twelve hours?"

          Aya was the kind of person who spent most of her days locked up in the Optec Center, sleeping only when absolutely necessary. Most of the time, sleep lasted for only two to four hours, five if she was lucky. Yet even so, she gained as much energy as though she had slept the full eight that growing teenagers needed. Why? It had been proven in the late 90's that the energy taken from level one sleep – that is to say, dreamless sleep – was equivalent to the energy taken if you just lied down on the couch, watching some TV.

What was the reason? Most energy from sleep was replenished during the REM – the dreaming – phase of one's rest. It was the dreams that replenished one person. How did Aya dream that much in two hours? Simple. She took hallucinogens before hitting the sack. Medically speaking, that was bad for her health, but it was much better than taking coffee, which stunted her growth.

          Aya didn't go to school. She had all she needed to know in NS-8's vast library, which contained all the ABCs one needed to finish preschool all the way to any course in college. She read at her own pace, and was currently into Quantum Physics, which was, so to speak, very advanced for a 14-year-old girl. "Just gimme a couple of hours for shuteye, and I'll be making the perfect toys for those classes of jobs, sir."

          "Alright," the NS-8 Director answered, "Virgin will wake you up at the appointed time. How are your parents doing?"

          "Oh, you know mom and dad, always sticking to their jobs. What can I say? They keep on e-mailing me to sleep early, take my vitamins, stay healthy, the usual parental stuff that they tell you when you go to a week's worth of summer camp." Aya's parents worked within Hypnos' Programming Division, and pretty much knew what she was doing, spending most of her days locked up inside a 'bank'. They visited her regularly, at least once a week… daily at most, being what parents were supposed to be: annoying.

          "Right…" Sakamori paused, thinking of what to say, "Well, be a good girl now, you hear? I have to go home and get some sleep myself."

          "Okey-dokey. Night, chief."

          "Goodnight, Aya." At that, both put their receivers down. He definitely needed some sleep. "Goodnight, Virgin," he said almost absentmindedly to the still active video camera as he placed his Personal Terminal on standby, not knowing that she was already sobbing at what he'd told her earlier as she tried to solve a recently discovered anomaly she dared not mention to the Director for fear of being reprimanded any further. Indeed, Virgin was, so to speak still a virgin (no pun intended) when it came to serious matters such as Network Security situations.

Sakamori, however, did not consider this at the moment. He was too tired to think of anything of that magnitude or higher. He left his office, passing the few night shift operatives, who greeted him cheerfully as he went for the elevator hall on the south side of the building. The glass windows that broke from Delta Force's dramatic entry had been replaced a few weeks earlier, the excuse being… well, Sakamori didn't give any excuse to the repairmen. He just told them to get their jobs done.

          Upon reaching the basement parking, he boarded his dark blue Nissan Exalta, bade the guard farewell, and drove off into the night, his destination being composed of one single syllable word: Home.

School Grounds, Iyamoto High School, Shinjuku, Tokyo

Tuesday, 1249 hours, Local Time…

          "You can't be serious!" Takato Matsuki practically shouted at the vest-clad boy sitting opposite of him, "Your family's being recalled by the Chinese government!? That's just crap! They're the ones who deported you in the first place, right!?"

          Henry Wong brought his fingers together, elbows resting on the table as he thought of something to say to his best friend. The cream and green rabbit on his shoulder shrugged as he smiled the kind that would just get a girl to hug him to death, saying his favorite catchphrase, "Momentai, Takato! He'll be alright as long as he's got me!"

          "Uh huh…" Takato had almost forgotten that Terriermon was back from the Digital World. Up to date, Henry still hadn't told him how the little rabbit had gotten back, and he didn't think that the guy was ever going to tell him. "So what's going to become of me, then? Practically everybody I could relate to is either dead, or out of my life! You're the last!" Goggle boy (who hadn't worn his goggles since the D-Reaper's defeat) was, of course, lying, in the sense that Henry wasn't the last person he could relate to. Well, he was the last until Takato had rediscovered Rika at NS-8. Both boys had attended Jeri's funeral and wept. Most of the people from NS-8 who knew her had attended too, namely Sakamori, Yamamoto, and… he thought he'd caught a glimpse of Rika somewhere in the back of the crowd, apparently trying to stick to her official status of being deceased. Hopefully, Henry hadn't noticed him looking in her direction.

          "Well, look at it this way, Takato," the Chinese Tamer finally spoke, "Even if you are, physically speaking, alone, I'll still be with you… in phone calls."

          "You're gonna spend money on international calls just to keep me company? Thanks, man. You don't know how much this means to me." He was going to need a lot of those calls to keep him sane because of the peer pressure of being alone in school. Everybody would estrange him, because they weren't at his level. Not to mention the fact that he was going to be pretty busy with his job at NS-8.

For the past month, they'd logged him into Virgin twice, locked him in the training facility where they used some kind of 'downloader' to cram complicated martial arts moves into his head, and taught him how to assemble and use a gun. Why the use of a downloading device on him? The instructor believed that once a person's mind was set on something, like say, Kung Fu, his body would follow. Takato had been practicing at home with an old punching bag he'd found in the closet. Unfortunately, on one occasion, he was so into developing his spin kicks that he broke it open, the stuffing spilling out and dirtying his room's floor. His father had him clean the whole mess up. "From now on," he could remember his old man saying, "Practice your fancy-pansy moves at the gym!"

          "Hey, no problem." Henry took a bite out of his sandwich. Apparently, he didn't like the idea either, since, so to speak, those damned Chinese politicians were the ones who kicked them out in the first place. If that was the situation, then why were they being called back? Besides that was the strange fact that it wasn't an employee of the Chinese Embassy who approached his father, but some mysterious guy in a black suit who worked for some unknown party. "There's one thing that bothers me though…"

          "What?"

          Wong shook that disturbing thought away, "Never mind. It's nothing…" He thought for a moment, "Have you ever experienced suddenly being talked to by some man in a black suit?"

          "Seriously?" Takato asked of the kind of response, "Actually, yeah. Last month. Thought the guy worked with Hypnos or something… turns out he works at the bank."

          "The fat guy who recruited you into Nikamura Crediting?" Henry inquired doubtfully, "I just don't get why you took the job, anyway. I mean… all they pay you are the extra simoleons that just don't fit into their vaults!"

          If only I could tell you what I really did at that 'bank', Takato thought. It was sad that the Chinese government was recalling Henry's family. He was even planning to convince Sakamori to recruit him into NS-8. Sadly, that petition was hardly feasible, since, as much as Takato thought about it, the only reason he'd been recruited into NS-8 was to replace Jeri. That was, more or less, all that he was to NS-8… a replacement. "Let's just say that banking is a lot more interesting than what I first thought."

          Henry suddenly felt that he'd seen this scene somewhere before. He just couldn't remember where. Was it a case of déjà vu, or did he really see it sometime ago? He thought of the last statement. The word that stood out the most? 'Banking'. That was when it hit him. He had seen this scene before, only it wasn't between the both of them. It was on the TV screen. It was part of one of the early 21st century's most popular spy shows: ALIAS. Henry suddenly laughed, his best friend being taken aback for a second. I must be watching too much TV… I mean, for a second there, I even suspected Takato of being a spy!

          "You okay, Henry?"

          "Yeah… I'm fine. Just thinking about some stuff."

          "If you say so…" Takato gulped down what remained of his lunch, mainly, another very ordinary sandwich that his mother had made. Perhaps he should ask her to start making him those Guilmon rolls again. He couldn't help but close his eyes and savor the memory of how those things tasted, not to mention the memory of the person – digimon rather – whose image they were created in. That was when his Nokia 3315 rang in signal of text. To be more specific? Special Tone, Ring Volume Level 5. He quickly reacted, ramming his hand into his khaki's pocket and fishing it out. "One Message Received. Excuse me for a sec…"

          "Let me guess… Joey's Pizza?" That line was another one fished out from the ALIAS series. Whenever the CIA, via phone call, contacted the lead character, they always posed as Joey's Pizza; and she would always respond by telling them it was a wrong number. Henry was of course, joking. He had, however, absolutely no idea of how close that joke was to the truth.

          "No… it's just my boss. I gotta get into my shift by 4 PM. Accounting sector."

          "Sure," the Chinese tamer continued his joke, "Then he's gonna send you to Taiwan or something in order to steal the plans for some top secret weapon they've been cooking up."

          "Hah, hah. Where'd you pick that up? James Bond or something?" The bell rang at that instant, signaling that there were only five minutes left in the lunch break. Five minutes to pack up and get back to the classrooms. "What's our next period again?"

          Henry crumpled his sandwich bag and threw it into the nearby garbage bin, "World History… Da Vinci's inventions, I think. You finished with your assignment?"

          Takato slapped his forehead as he stood up from the table, "Damn, I knew there was something I forgot at home!"

          Wong could only suppress his chuckle as Terriermon jumped onto Takato's shoulder and patted him on the head like a boy does his dog, saying, "Momentai, Takato! Look at the bright side. At least Mister Toroyama's on leave and his substitute is on campus."

          "And who might that be?" Hopefully, it wasn't the teacher he'd always feared. The one teacher who struck fear into the hearts of all the students at Iyamoto…

          "Mister Kuruma!"

          "Damn…" He was the one. If he was going to have to spend the next three hours with him, then he should be prepared for a long sermon on how to be more efficient in their classes. That's life… he thought as he picked up his bag and headed for the classroom with Terriermon at his side, Henry not far behind.

Briefing Room, 14th Floor of NS-8 Headquarters, Shinjuku, Tokyo

Tuesday, 1556 hours, Local Time…

          Akira Sakamori sat at the head of the rectangular briefing table, eyeing the stocky, bearded man sitting opposite of him, "So tell me, Pan. What have you been doing these days?"

          "Not much," NS-8's Deputy Director replied, "I don't have too many affairs to go around with, what with you and Virgin taking on practically all of the situations that need to be handled." He tapped on the touch screen terminal in front of him, initiating a game of pinball at music and SFX level zero. The briefing room's table was long enough to accommodate up to ten people, heads included. Each seat had a corresponding touch screen terminal, for easy display of information, although, for the sake of attention to the head, where Sakamori usually sat during briefings, there was a big screen terminal for better view. The two ends of the table also had scanners for miscellaneous scanning purposes.

          "I see…" The NS-8 Director brought up a topic that had been disturbing his mind for some time now, "I only gave you two days of leave last month: Wednesday and Thursday. You didn't come at all that Friday when the Agency's forces attacked. It was as if you knew—"

          "Now don't jump to conclusions just like that, Akira!" The bearded man cut him off, "You of all people should know that I'm one of your most loyal men. I tell you, I was sick! I even gave a medical certificate from Tokyo City General!"

          "The certificate said that you were infected by a slight case of influenza; a slight case," Sakamori stressed, "You could still come to work even with such a problem. Is there any other excuse you want to give me before I send you to Isuzu for Polygraph testing?"

          Taberuni Pan reached into his suit and took out a sheet of paper, upon closer inspection of which, was a prescription dated Thursday about a month earlier. "I was on the way to the hospital when I passed by Matsuda's school. The doctor gave me this," he placed it on the scanner, the automatic distribution system sending the image to every terminal on the table, including the large screen terminal at the front of the room.

          "It's a prescription…" It was signed by one of TCGH's top MDs. Apparently, Pan was infected that time with some kind of new strain of influenza that resulted in what appeared to be a cross between rheumatic fever and your common cold. Rheumatic fever was an ailment that if not treated immediately, which the doctor did, would kill its host by destroying either the kidneys or the liver, both vital organs to any human body. A respective drug was prescribed, as well as a week's worth of rest. "I'll let you go for now, Pan, but remember: I do not want this kind of shit to happen ever again. I've had the thought of your being an Agency mole playing across my mind for weeks!"

          "Sorry to have worried you like that. I guess I should be more responsible."

          "Definitely." That was when the doors slid open, several people stepping inside and taking their seats. Sakamori turned his attention to the redhead who sat next to Pan, giving her a nod as he addressed everybody else in general, "Good afternoon, everyone. I expect you all understand why I called this meeting today. This is probably one of the biggest Network Security situations since our foundation over half a century ago."

          Agent Hiroshi Yamamoto spoke up, "So what's this about, sir?"

          The NS-8 Director cleared his throat as he began the briefing, "First of all, I would like to introduce you to our new transfer from our post at Osaka, Agent Yusuke Shinigami." The respective operative stood up, bowed, and gave the usual word of flattery of what an honor it was to serve at NS-8's Headquarters itself. "Speaking of which, I would like to tell you, Nonaka, that he will be your partner for this operation." Rika stood up to object, but an intervening hand ordered her back into her seat, "I understand that you prefer to work alone, but I cannot think of anybody else who can show Agent Shinigami the ropes. You see, he's just graduated from the academy and was transferred here due to his unusually high performance."

          Rika Nonaka crossed her arms; apparently back into Ice Queen mode as she shut her eyes, mumbling something about why Sakamori had to pick her. When she opened them again, she took one look at everybody in the room, an especially long one at her boss, and sighed, saying, "Alright, I'll do it. What's my mission about anyway?"

          "Don't worry," Sakamori assured, "This one's going to be a real pushover. How does an HRC operation sound?"

          "Depends on the specifics of the operation itself: the five W's, get it?" What, When Where, Who, and Why. These were the five W's or specifics of most operations. They were as general as they could get. Details were deeper than that.

          "Pickup of a Pan-Digital Converter, tonight at 9 PM, at the Tokyo International Airport. The operatives are from NS-5, sent to deliver the device, which was stolen from the Agency's Brazilian branch by an NS-5 HRR Team. They're delivering it to us in order that our labs might be able to analyze the Pan-Digital Converter more accurately, since the South American NS Cells are, more or less, underdeveloped in terms of laboratory technology compared to ours."

          "And I have to take him with me!?" the former Tamer retorted, "I can do that by myself!"

          "You need someone to cover your back." The NS-8 Director stated matter-of-factly, "You would be doing all of us a favor if you just obeyed. Besides, I am now giving you a direct order: Take Agent Shinigami with you on this operation." He could see how peeved Rika was at this order, but she already had agreed, right? Indeed, she had. "That's it for your operation, Nonaka. Stand by for your Optec briefing. In the meantime, I have another mission in mind for Yamamoto and Matsuki…" he scanned the room but found no trace of the aforementioned Tamer. "Speaking of which, where is the boy, anyway?"

          Yamamoto racked his brains for the correct answer, which came to him about an hour ago, "Called me a while ago saying he'd be late. Sounded like he was in a fix with his teacher or something…"

          That was when a certain dirt-haired teenager in a blue shirt and slacks came in, backpack slung over his shoulder, "Sorry I'm late, guys. Had a little trouble with my teacher… Did I miss anything?"

          "Nothing of importance to you Agent Matsuki," Sakamori noticed Rika's eye twitch, "Take a seat." When he was sure that Takato had indeed, taken a seat (next to Rika, to be exact), he started with another introduction, "Before I forget, Agent Matsuki, this is our new transfer from the Osaka branch, Agent Yusuke Shinigami."

          "Pleased to meet you." was the statement that came from Shinigami's mouth.

          "Same here," Takato replied.

          "You wouldn't happen to be that kid who helped save—"

          "Why is it that everybody knows that I helped save the world!?" the former Tamer complained sarcastically.

          Rika, apparently, played along with the joke, "Well at least you're a celebrity."

          Sakamori cleared his throat again, trying to get their attention as he held out his hand to place that attention on a young blonde girl sitting next to him, her long hair reaching the back of her waist, "I would also like you to meet the head of our Optec Division, Miss Aya Sazaki. Aya, this is Takato Matsuki from downtown Shinjuku. I'm sure you've heard of him."

          "You're telling me that the person in charge of our gadgetry is a little girl?" the former Tamer asked in disbelief.

          "Well then you're telling me that the guy who once saved the world looks just like an Average Joe?" she snapped back.

          "Stop it, both of you." Yamamoto butt in, "We're not here to start a fight, you know. We've got serious business to attend to."

          "Agent Yamamoto is right, Goggle-head," the redhead sided with the older operative, "Carry on, sir."

          "Thank you, Nonaka. Now, where was I?" Pan whispered something into his superior's ear, "Ah, yes. As of 0215 hours this morning, I received a video message from Aleksander Tezansky, Director of NS-4, and a very good friend of mine."

          "For those of you who aren't familiar with NS-4," the stocky Deputy Director intervened, "It's jurisdiction includes the entirety of what used to be the Soviet Union, along with Eastern Europe."

          "Tezansky's Intelligence Section has stumbled upon what is perhaps the biggest find concerning the Agency ever since our first encounter with it. Apparently, its directors are having a meeting somewhere in Moscow sometime within the week. Unfortunately, because President Vezhirov, is, as you know, doing a mass upsizing of Russia's involvement with the Global Internet Community, NS-4's resources are currently concentrated on monitoring that growth spurt to the point that they can't even do so much as determine the exact time and place of that meeting. Hence, the reason why he called me up last night. Tezansky wants me to send in a team to help his 'lone wolf' search unit to locate and monitor the meeting before it's too late. We only have until Friday to do this. A discovery like this comes only once in a long while."

          "So who exactly are you sending for this operation, Akira?" Pan inquired.

          "Yamamoto, I trust that you will take good care of Agent Matsuki on this trip." The NS-8 Director answered his assistant's question indirectly, expecting the direct object of his statement to give out some kind of violent reaction. He did.

          "Wait a minute… you're sending us to Russia?" Takato quipped, his face twisted into a nervous wreck, "For how long?"

          "For the rest of the week. Don't worry, your schoolwork has been taken care of. As of 1200 hours today, I contacted you principal, notifying him to have you excused the rest of the week due to your participation in an upcoming international history competition being held in Leningrad."

          "You 'notified' my principal? What's that supposed to mean!?"

          Akira Sakamori smiled shrewdly at the boy as though he'd beaten him at chess in less than five moves, "NS-8 has officers planted in schools where Tamers and former Tamers study, moreover every agency in the Pacific, including the Department of Education. Your principal just happened to be a good friend of mine. He's already made it official. But just because you've been excused doesn't mean that you can neglect your studies wantonly. Both Shiro and I have agreed on this." Shiro, Shiro Kanzaki to be exact, was the name of Takato's principal. He was, more or less, an average-looking person; with nothing whatsoever that could possibly give away his position at NS-8. "So, to make up for your duties at NS-8, each excused school day spent for NS-8 operations will be deducted from your summer vacation."

          "You've gotta be kidding me!" the teenager retorted, "That's insane!"

          "Education plays a great role in every major society today, Agent Matsuki." Pan commented nonchalantly, "If you don't pass so much of your education as High School, you won't make it at all in real life."

          "Your plane departs at 2030 hours tonight, you two. Business Class plane tickets have already been reserved for the two of you on flight number D69BJ, departing for Beijing," Sakamori smiled again at the surprised reaction that hearing the flight number elicited, "Which, as you probably know, will be the plane that Mister Wong's family will be taking on their migration to China. Consider it a friendly offering. I know how close you two are."

          "So where do we go from there?" Yamamoto asked, clearly wanting to get the point.

          "After you get off at Beijing International, and say your goodbyes to the Wongs, proceed to the ticket booth. You will receive tickets booked for flight number H13MC, heading for Moscow in two hours. At which point, you will rendezvous with your NS-4 contact, Yuri Komanov, 17 years old, born in Leningrad, 1990. First encounter with the digital would be in October, 1996, when his parents were killed by a wild Gizamon. Met and became Tamer for a Class Red Agumon around the same time. Was recruited and adopted by Aleksander Tezansky about a year and a half later, and trained to specialize in various operations such as HRR, MRE, FFA, and RDC." Takato didn't understand what most of those acronyms meant, but whatever they were, they must be extremely risky. "I'm sure you people would get along very well, seeing as you are, more or less, in the same age group. Miss Sazaki will be briefing you on Optec. That is all."

Business Class Compartment, Flight D69BJ, Tokyo International Airport

Tuesday, 2015 hours, Local Time…

          Now, see this watch? It's not really a watch, Aya Sazaki's voice rang in the young boy's mind as he looked at his new Swatch, checking the time. It is actually a micro cam launcher and control device. Each mainframe control cylinder can turn the selected micro cam up to 90 degrees in the respective cylinder's area of effect, i.e. the direction where it's facing. Takato Matsuki looked over to the opposite side of the cabin, where Henry and his family sat, having what he assumed was some family talk. He glanced at his watch again, recalling more about that long Optec briefing. Where are the micro cams, you ask? Look inside the battery compartment. It might look like your average quartz battery, but push this little trinket here and… viola, a compartment containing not one, not two, but four state-of-the-art hyper-sensitive micro cams capable of X-ray vision, wall penetrating audio perception, and a zoom capacity of up to 500 times normal!

And all you have to do to launch them, is set the timekeeper to 0000 hours military time. A gas operated – I know, it doesn't look like it contains that much gas – propulsion system will jet those cams up to fifty feet in any direction regardless of wind speed. Don't worry, their adhesive bases will stick them onto any surface at all, porous, non-porous, dry, wet, etc. Now if you turn this other switch here… you can now switch to cam mode, where you can monitor the selected camera – number of turns equals consecutiveness of cam launch i.e. three turns switches to third camera launched – through your timekeeper. To zoom in? Push down on the same cylinder. The longer you push, the closer the zoom. Now all you have to do to zoom out is do… the… opposite… Newton's first law of motion, baby! Every action admits an equal opposite reaction. That's about all you gotta know about this little gizmo here. Any questions?

          "Something bothering you?" Hiroshi Yamamoto questioned his partner. The boy looked preoccupied with his watch. Or rather, what appeared to be a watch and was actually a micro cam launcher and controller. Besides that was the fact that he looked like he wanted to move over to the vacant seat by the Wongs and have a little chat with his old friend.

          "Nothing…" Takato continued to stare aimlessly at his little device, apparently bored with what he was doing.

          Yamamoto put a reassuring had over his shoulder, a kind look beaming from behind his dark sunglasses, "Go on. He's probably waiting for you."

          "Thanks." The boy stood up and moved over to the vacant seat next to Henry, despite the fact that his seat was already reserved for him. Sitting down, he spoke what he considered the best opening line possible at this solemn time. "You never told me you were leaving tonight. I was planning on calling you to say goodbye after I came home from the bank, you know."

          "Takato?" The Chinese Tamer turned to see his best friend smiling wryly at him, as if to say, 'Surprise!' "What are you doing here?"

          "Heading the same way you are, man." He considered telling Henry the truth, although he already had been given a different excuse by NS-8. Then again, judging from what happened to most uninvolved people who learned the truth in some movies, he reconsidered his options. Nobody would ever know that, though, yet it was safer, and probably best, for the both of them if he just used that other reason, "I found out only a few hours ago that I was selected for some kind of international quiz tournament…"

          "You? Chosen to compete in an international quiz bee? Get real!" Henry quipped, his friend chuckling at that remark.

          "Hey, don't ask me, ask the principal!" Takato replied in a clueless fashion.

          "So where's it being held?" The rabbit on Henry's shoulder asked.

          "In Leningrad, Russia. Isn't that great!" the NS-8 recruit barked out somewhat enthusiastically, "I get to see all the cool stuff there!"

          "They don't have any cool stuff in Russia, Takato," Terriermon answered. This punch line is definitely going to get everybody to laugh, alright. "Do you know why?"

          "Why?"

          "Because everything in Russia is ice cold! It's way passed freezing up there, so don't expect any cool stuff since 'cool' can still pretty much be withstood by human standards!" the cream and green digimon did his punch line, which, unfortunately, instead of bringing laughter into the cabin, procured sweat drops from the heads of all who heard that remark.

          "Very funny, Terriermon," Henry remarked, a large hint of sarcasm in his voice as he turned his attention back to the usually be-goggled boy. "The question is: If you're supposed to be going on a trip to Russia, why are you on a plane that's headed to Beijing anyway?"

          "Well…" Takato thought of the best answer, and found it coming forth from the lips of his principal, "Well, mister Kanzaki said to take my time since the competition isn't until Thursday, so I guess that would be the reason… well, besides that is the fact that the company that owns this plane is being funded by Nikamura Crediting…" Oops… that's not right! "Uh… what I mean to say is…"

          "So who's sponsoring your trip to Leningrad?" a fourth persona cut him off. Upon closer inspection, this fourth person turned out to be Janyu Wong, Henry's father, and a programmer at Hypnos. "From what Henry tells me about the facility's condition, I don't think your school has enough funds to spare to send someone abroad, moreover get itself fixed."

          "Um… Nikamura Crediting is shouldering the expenses for this trip including plane tickets, lodging, meals, and other miscellaneous expenditures…" the former Tamer laughed somewhat nervously at his response, hoping that it was satisfactory to quench Mister Wong's seemingly boundless curiosity.

          "Is that why you've got your Bank Manager with you?" Henry noted having seen Yamamoto at Jeri's funeral, assuming that he was Takato's co-worker since the only families that didn't have members working at that bank who came there besides the Matsukis, Wongs, and Katous (Takato and Jeri excluded), were a few distant relatives who the boy was already familiar with… Not to mention that mysterious hooded person hiding behind the crowd that Takato had seemingly kept his eye on for some time.

          "Oh, no, him? He's my supervisor. See, the bank President believes that time shouldn't be wasted simply because I was going abroad, so he decided to send my supervisor along in order to continue helping me with my training…"

          "That makes sense…" Janyu said, the last of his suspicions washed away. The conversation went on smoothly from that point on, until finally an announcement was made to buckle up because the plane was about to taxi.

Waiting Area, Tokyo International Airport

Tuesday, 2030 hours, Local Time…

          "Flight D69BJ, now departing for Beijing," the female voice of announcement sounded through the loudspeaker. Rika Nonaka sighed as she laid her lavender eyes on the wall-mounted clock, and tensed. Thirty minutes… Dammit! The breaking point was close… so close she could feel herself beginning to lose her sanity. One of the things that she hated the most was waiting, waiting, and more waiting… She gritted her teeth as her eyes twitched, Must… be… patient… must… stay… calm… must… wait… some… more…

          "You okay?" Yusuke Shinigami disturbed her somewhat odd-looking 'meditation'. He was recruited by NS-8 right out of University, and spent several months at their academy in Osaka, where they taught him all he needed to know about… network monitoring and maintenance of the systems that Virgin didn't need, or rather, thought she was to good, to handle. That was, pretty much, all he did around the clock for the past two years: sitting at a console and keeping tabs on the constant data flow that ran through the internet. He had no field experience whatsoever. However, all that changed when Sakamori saw his records concerning his performance on the field simulation. He was immediately transferred to NS-8's primary.

          "Huh?" the Queen of Digi-Battle cards looked over to her current partner for this mission. Why had Sakamori sent him along anyway? It just wasn't sensible. Perhaps he was persuaded by some 'paternal instinct' to do so? Maybe. "Oh. What is it, Shinigami?"

          "Well, judging from the way you look, I'd say you're having a case of TAS." This term raised an eyebrow. Obviously, it was the first time the redhead had ever heard of it.

          "What's that?"

          "TAS – Time Awareness Syndrome – is a kind of disorder in some impatient people wherein the victim is exposed to awareness of how slow time went by whenever you kept tabs on it. It usually occurs to people who're stuck facing a clock while waiting for an appointment. The usual result is that a person loses his or her sanity in trying to keep himself or herself from just getting away from that clock and forfeiting that appointment. It's completely theoretical, though."

          "Well I think you should tell those theorists that the damned thing is real," she replied. She checked the clock again: Twenty-nine minutes and fifteen seconds! GAH! "Did you ever get the feeling that time was picking on me?"

          "Heh," the NS-8 technician scoffed that idea, "Miss Nonaka, it picks on all of us." Shinigami thought for a moment. "Why don't you go get a coke or something at the softdrink dispenser while I keep you covered? You know, just to get rid of that tension…"

          "Hmm…" Rika considered the suggestion with a thoughtful pout as her partner sat in one of the plastic chairs beside her. "I think I just might do that. Thanks for the idea, Shinigami." She stood up to leave her post momentarily, "You know what? You're not half bad." With that, the NS-8 operative turned and walked over to the softdrink vending machine, fishing out a few 100 yen coins from her business suit's pocket and dumped them into the slot, pushing on the selection of her choice. She quickly snatched into her hand the red can of cherry flavored Coca-Cola that rolled down towards the pickup bin.

          The basic color scheme for the can was the same as those of the original flavor save for the swirl near the sign, which, to put it simply, had a lot more red than white. The picture of a cherry was suspended just above the 'C' of an elegantly written 'Cherry' just above the Coke sign. Rika popped the lid open and took a sip. The taste was odd. It was hard to believe that people actually enjoyed drinking this stuff. Why'd I even pick this one in the first place? It was like drinking the standard cola with a hint of cherry. She shivered slightly upon thoroughly sampling the strange liquid that slid down her throat and decided to take a trip to the powder room to dump the rest of that crap down the sink. She could still come back later to get a can of root beer… that crap she could still hope manage with. But this? She would make sure to add it to her big NO-NO's list. Blech…twenty-eight minutes and ten seconds… The NS-8 operative sighed inwardly. This operation was going to be the longest one in her entire life if she ever got to finish it.

          In the meantime, Agent Yusuke Shinigami was busy fiddling with his palm pilot, figuring out how exactly he was going to start a new game of 'Invader Zim: The Armada Arrives'. Using nothing but a stylus on a holographic projection screen, it was, pretty much, very hard to work with indeed. It was funny, really. Even computer screens became 3D. He missed those in the old days when all he had to do was stare into a 2D monitor and type whatever corrections he deemed fit to the program complex. Of course, majority of those corrections were seen as errata by Virgin and were immediately converted into something else, which her 10000 Terahertz Calculative Complex accurately determined to be correct. Indeed, she – everybody saw her as a female… perhaps it was some sick joke done by lonely programmers who were included in her original programming period – was the greatest intellect on the planet.

          Shinigami cursed silently as he lost another life point to those stupid dogs. This game was starting to get really annoying really fast. Besides its difficulty to manipulate due to Three Dimensional Gameplay, another problem with a holographic projection screen was that everybody else could see what you were doing. Imagine if there were something else on that screen instead of just some dumb game… something worse, like say, pornography. Wouldn't that be a major problem? The hologram projector screen for the palm pilot was probably an innovation bent for the worse, as it was a definite privacy killer. Besides that was the fact that lab tests proved monkeys to hallucinate after prolonged exposure to the aforementioned display system. Although that didn't mean that humans would suffer from the same complication, the possibility was still there…

He turned to see Rika come back and offer him a can of root beer, sipping on her own. The NS-8 technician gratefully accepted the tin container as she sat down with that tense look returning to her face, and popped the lid off. The redhead continued to sip from her own can as she once again eyed the wall clock, Twenty-five minutes!? She thought in disbelief. Is that thing broken or something!? She had even taken her time to wash – wash, mind you, not rinse, with soap, of course – her hands in the ladies' room, dry them with the automatic blow-dryer, and thoroughly wipe the excess water off with tissue before grabbing those cans of root beer and coming back to her post, and all she got was another three minutes!? There had to be something wrong with that clock. There just had to be.

          "Still suffering from TAS?" Shinigami inquired.

          "Does it look that obvious?" she answered in remorse. Rika couldn't help but glance at the clock for the nth time that night. "Twenty-four minutes and thirty seconds…" she sighed, "It's not gonna get any better than this, is it?"

          "Actually, it can," her partner momentarily set his can of root beer on the other seat next to him and handed her his palm pilot (which he'd considered cashing-in in exchange for any amount of yen at all). "Do you know how to handle holographic displays?"

          Nonaka emptied her own can and tossed it into a nearby garbage bin as she took the palmtop computer into her hand, picked the stylus out of its sheath, and began playing some other game the way it was supposed to be played. "Let's just say that I've been around the block more than once…" Finally, something to kill that damned time with! She glanced at the clock yet again, this time, a twinkle of confidence in her eyes, Twenty-four minutes and counting!

Director's Office, 14th Floor of NS-8 Headquarters, Shinjuku, Tokyo

Tuesday, 2056 hours, Local Time…

"I'm telling you, Senyor Sakamori," NS-5 Director Felipe Santiago insisted, "I've never even thought that such a device as a Pan-Digital Converter could exist until you called me up a few minutes ago!" Santiago was in his early forties, the youngest member of the Executive Twelve to be exact, and looked like your average Hispanic Caucasian with his dark brown hair and matching baby blue eyes. How exactly did a South American Director understand what was being said by a Japanese one and vice versa? Simple. A universal translator was taking in every word from either party, analyzing them, and converting them into the corresponding vocabulary entry for the receiving persona. Simple linguistics, right?

          "Oh, come on now, Felipe," NS-8 Director Akira Sakamori quipped. What was the point of denying something that you just requested something to be done about? He didn't know much about Santiago except the facts that he was Hispanic, he lived in South America, and he had a problem with remembering things he'd done but a few hours ago. The third he concluded from Santiago's denial of everything concerning the Pan-Digital Converter – the very same Pan-Digital Converter that was supposed to be delivered into the hands of Rika Nonaka within the next three or so minutes. "You sent the e-mail to me yourself at 2:15 AM this morning!"

          "That would be around 3 PM here in Brasilia. I was at home that time of the day for my siesta. The Deputy was in charge. When I asked him later for any incoming or outgoing messages, he said there were none!" That was very strange. Nonetheless, the message had come from Felipe's personal e-mail address, specialized with a password encrypted to avoid hacking.

The thought hit the NS-8 Director. They also had those online code breaking programs. Yet, that was impossible. Network Security utilized state-of-the-art encryption methods to ensure that not even those could do so. The only possible way for somebody to access an E-12 member's e-mail address was to either take the Director for hostage, which was next to impossible (Sakamori learned that it was possible the hard way, from last month's Agency attack), or to have a decryption program whose capability either paralleled or surpassed that of Network Security's program. That meant that only the biggest and most powerful organizations could do so. And the NS-8 Director had just one in mind.

          "Virgin?" he had apologized to the digital sentience later that afternoon after the briefing, and a brief talk with Agent Takamiya concerning the recovery of Takato's partner due to the alarmingly increasing rate of Guilmon poaching by renegade Guardian Algorithms that escaped deletion. The boy had agreed to do so as soon as possible, and promised to have that red dinosaur back before its partner returned from overseas. Sakamori always seemed to find favor in that freelancer. Perhaps it was the innocence of a child that drove the boy to such heights that he did just about whatever was bidden to him. It was either that, or Kai was overly confident that his modify card deck would make him invincible. That was, more or less, true. He could turn a mega into mincemeat with a simple combination of two cards. But so what?

          "Yes, sir?" the digitized female voice boomed from its synthesizer, "If it's about the e-mail that Director Santiago supposedly sent you, I have determined that there was indeed an accessing of his e-mail address around that time… although there was this anomaly I detected—"

          "What kind of anomaly, Virgin?" Sakamori interrupted the cybernetic consciousness, somewhat irritated that he wasn't told about it earlier. The idea struck him that perhaps it was because he was very 'busy' that time and scolded her. He cursed himself for putting the suppression of her childish attitude as a priority over the use of her boundless (maybe) mental capacity for their proper purposes.

          "Well, I was able to confirm the accessing of his address, but I was unable to determine from where… I've been having one of my sub-consciousnesses work on solving that for the past nineteen hours, but it's still not that clear. The sending terminal was meant to become untraceable by bouncing the signal off several hundred satellite and modem relays simultaneously and continuously. At the rate which data travels these days, at this point the signal's been bounced off an approximate number of several quadrillion to the fifteenth power relays already, and is already impossible to zero in on an exact location of origin…" There was a slight pause in that explanation, and Sakamori was getting the unshakable feeling that Virgin had either broken down, or was being a kid again, smiling at him wryly. "By any other calculative intelligence other than yours truly." Apparently, the latter had occurred. "I've currently narrowed it down to the Shinjuku District…"

          "Wait a minute…" The NS-8 Director interrupted again, somewhat in disbelief, "You mean to tell me that Santiago's address was accessed from here? In Tokyo?"

          "You got that right, sugah!" Virgin did a terrible imitation of a hillbilly girl.

          "I told you I had nothing to do with it!" Santiago's accent rubbed itself into the older man's head. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I should be getting some breakfast now." The transmission ended. It was about 10 AM in Brasilia, which was an odd time to have some breakfast. Sakamori figured that what Santiago meant to say was that he was getting some brunch.

          A faint alarm sounded from the voice synthesis box, followed by Virgin's triumphant announcement, "I did it! I've zeroed in on the terminal's exact location!"

          "Alright, where in Shinjuku?"

          "Well, I never expected this to be so close to home, but… does the 4th floor of D-Tech Pacific ring a bell?"

          "You're right…" Sakamori thought of how gravely the consequence was of falling for such a ploy. But the question was why would the Agency fake a mission request in that manner? What a worse time to listen to Pan for selecting Nonaka to take care of that operation. The whole damned thing was a setup! "Virgin, get me Aya Sazaki."

          "You know, sir, I get the impression that you have a liking for Agent Sazaki… is that right?" the Virtual Digital Nexus complied with his request anyway, adding, "You're making me jealous, you know that?"

          "Just do it," came the impatient reply.

          "Been there, done that, sir."

          "You have reached the quarters of Aya Sazaki.," sounded a voice that was, more or less, coming from the recorder of an answering machine, "I'm not available right now, so please leave a message after the beep. I promise I'll get back to you as soon as possible." The only giveaway that it was the real thing speaking, were two things: One, Aya didn't have an answering machine. And two, the 'beep' sounded like it came from a living organism rather than an answering machine, "Just kidding! What's up?"

          "Aya, I need you to establish contact with Nonaka's team at Tokyo International now!" Sakamori was in a state near that of panic, and the young technician could tell that. He couldn't help but feel that way. The more he saw her, the more he felt like she was his Little Ruu. He'd had Intelligence Section get information on her family, but apparently, their searches were without merit.

          "Uh-uh… 'fraid that's a big no-no, chief… Some kind of jamming signal is scrambling all radio waves entering and exiting the perimeter of T.I.A. that aren't being used for aircraft communications… and NS-8 doesn't have any of those. Nonaka'll have to manage with what she's got."

          "I see… thanks anyway." Sakamori had more option in mind, and he wasn't hesitating to use it. He didn't wait for Aya to say her goodbye as he switched lines to the operator. Again he was greeted by that cheerful, "Good evening, sir. How may I help you?" that seemingly all operators said at any time of the day. "Contact Field Ops Section and have them organize a five-man strike unit ASAP. What this is about? It's a matter of life and death! That's what this is about!"

Waiting Area, Tokyo International Airport

Tuesday, 2059 hours, Local Time…

          Rika Nonaka glanced at the clock as she set the palm pilot down. Apparently, she had lost interest with the little trinket because the countdown was down to seconds… Five… four… three… two… one… "YES!" Yusuke Shinigami could've sworn that he saw her jump three feet into the air. Either she had finished her game, beating the top one score, or, the more obvious, that it was just a second, nearing two, past nine. The long wait was over.

          "Flight B57TY, now arriving at Gate 12," the announcement sounded off again. Now all they had to do was wait, which is exactly what they'd been doing for the past hour or so. The wait wasn't going to be that long anyway. In a few moments, the area was flooded with people coming from Gate 12, from a wide assortment of nations. Rika tapped on her comm. "The Eagle has landed… stand by for further notice." Strangely enough, all she heard in response to that 'coded message' was a burst of static, eerily quiet despite its somewhat impression that it was raining very hard on the other side. "That's odd…"

          "What?" Shinigami's partial distraction towards an attractive young Caucasian was erased.

          "Nobody's answering…" this was said in a somewhat worried tone. That was ridiculous. Rika Nonaka never worried by anything… "Ah, whatever." Her attention was snatched by a very attention-getting sight indeed. Two men in perfectly black (save their inner suits), one of which was carrying a briefcase, were slowly, purposely, striding in from Gate 12. "Well, well, well… look's like our people have arrived."

          "Huh?"

Rika guided the somewhat lost NS-8 technician by pointing over to what she saw. "There… your standard MIB impersonators, Mafia brokers, black suit guys, standard NS Cell attire for international transactions. These are the ones. Just remember, there are only three things you have to do. Look sharp and formal, stay quiet, and let me do all the talking. Got that?"

"Okay… that's all?" Shinigami was surprised at the simplicity of those instructions, and wondered whether he would actually gain any field experience at all from this operation. The two NS-8 employees (can't call them both operatives, can I?) stood up and walked over to the targeted men, confronting them directly.

"Rika Nonaka, NS-8," the redhead flashed her badge at the two figures, who remained silent. She motioned at the briefcase, "Is that the Pan-Digital Converter? We'll take it from here." Its caretaker, who immediately brought his arm back to where it was earlier, somewhat too robotically to even consider as a human movement, handed her the luggage. Rika hefted the black suitcase, checking its weight, "Pretty light for a gadget that does some heavy damage…" she quipped. The two men remained silent.

          Something's wrong with this scenario… Shinigami thought as he eyed the two who supposedly worked for the South American NS Cell. They didn't even look South American to him. In fact, they almost looked… Japanese, "Nonaka… can I have a word with you?"

          "What?" she had already shaken hands with the two, and thought that there was no problem with a last second consultation with mister technician here. "Excuse me for a while… I have to check with my associate here." The two nodded coldly, giving her the chilling impression that they indeed were robots.

          "You know that sinking feeling you get when you know that something's wrong, but don't know what or where that wrong can be?" were the first words whispered into the Digi-Battle Card Queen's ear. "Something's not right about this…"

          "You're not the only one… those NS-5 guys are like robots!" she stated what was obvious, but concealed the other thing that bothered her, testing whether or not this guy was good enough to have observed and determined what she'd seen as well.

          "Besides that… didn't you notice that they don't look like South Americans?"

          "To tell you the truth? Yeah… They actually looked a lot more like…"

          "Japanese?" A third voice finished the statement, calling the two NS-8 workers' attention to the men in black, who, by this time, had drawn their pistols and had them trained at their targets… namely Rika and Shinigami.

          The former cursed herself for letting her guard down, and decided that it would be the best time for action than any other, "Shinigami, run!" A moment too late, for by the time the last syllable escaped her lips, a crimson flower had exploded into being on Shinigami's forehead, the NS-8 technician dropping to the ground. A moment later, she found herself sitting on the sides of her legs, most weight supported by her knees, clutching her left shoulder, which now had a bullet in it. "Dammit! What do you want from us, anyway!?"

          "Our orders weren't to take something from you," said the one who downed her partner.

          "Our orders are to take you," the briefcase holder, who shot her in the first place, finished the former's statement.

          "Really now…" she looked over to the left, at the space in front of the other man to be exact, and pushed down on the gemstone of a ring she was wearing on her right index finger, causing a slight gritting of teeth. In a moment's notice, there were now two of the NS-8 operative sitting in that fashion on the floor, mirror images of each other. That split-second's distraction was all she needed. A sweep kick from both of them sent the two mystery men down to the floor, giving way for the identical twins to get up and move.

          The original Rika – at least she thought she was the original – dashed into Gate 10, passing the guard who tried to stop her, whilst her copy, she saw dart into Gate 12, which was just across the waiting area. Seeing the unknown operatives recover from that drop, she quickly zipped into the ladies room, where she paused for a breather as well as thank the gods and the one responsible for that device that she now wore on her right index finger, for saving her life. A quick look at the ring brought her back into NS-8's briefing room, wherein her Optec briefing had just begun.

          Now I know it's still too early for your wedding, Aya Sazaki joked as she brought out a gold-plated ring with a finely cut sapphire gemstone on top, But consider this an early wedding gift. I know what you're probably thinking: that the gemstone here contains some kind of sedative agent that can knock out a guy with one touch for a whole five minutes… Well, that would be useful if you got caught or something, but, no, you're wrong. In this case, the gemstone contains a blood-sampling needle, and a 5 GHz microprocessor with wireless Internet access. I know, it doesn't look like it can contain all that stuff I just mentioned, but trust me. I'm a genius. Now, you're probably wondering what all that equipment is for, too. The body of the ring itself is actually a Digigraphic projector – not holographic, mind you – Digigraphic. Why? When you push down on the sapphire – if you're wondering why sapphire, well that's because it's my birth stone – you activate the blood-sampling needle, which will take a microscopic sample of your blood and—ouch! The wireless will auto boot, log into Network Security's Personnel Archives, and dig out a profile with matching DNA to the sample, at which point it will generate a digital copy of yourself, much like creating a Digimon, actually, and project that thing into the real world by force of micro realization engine that's built-in here.

Damn, do I look good or what? A perfect mirror image! So perfect, you can even touch it! It does just about everything you can do, only in mirror effect. For example, I'm facing her and I say, "Hi, Aya!" and wave my right hand. Being a mirror image, she will move the hand she has that will make it look like I'm staring in a mirror. Hence, she will move her left hand. Another thing: it also comes with a 0.0009 second delay from the time you start your thing to the time she starts doing it. If you try to run away from her, she will try to run away from you. That simple. The only problem is that the ring can only contain so much more, that I had to sacrifice the battery life to a couple of minutes – that's a bug I'll have to work out – so you can only have your twin sister for that long. After that, the battery shorts out, and…well, to put it simply, goodbye Aya number two. Oh, one more thing. The ring realizes your copy about one foot away from you in the direction in which your face is facing. Say, for example, my body is facing south, but my head is turned east and I switch this thing on. The copy will realize about a foot from where I'm facing, and so end up with her body facing the south, while her head is facing me, or westward, rather. So now that you know the basics on operating that thing – please bring it back in one piece since I still have a few bugs to work on there like the battery – I now hand it over to you and trust that you take good care of it.

          Rika had always considered Aya a chatterbox, saying a lot more than what was needed of her. Nobody seemed to mind, though, especially Yamamoto, who seemed to have an eye out for the 14-year-old. That was silly. They just didn't fit together. The man was over a decade older than her, for crying out loud! That was the last idea that ran through her head before she felt something similar to a mosquito bite on her neck. The only difference was that when she tried to swat it, nothing was there; that, and the fact that she was getting unusually drowsy, slumping to the floor in a heap.

To be Continued…

AN: Wow, this was even longer than the last… I'm starting to write such long things I'm beginning to scare myself! What if I never finish this? Nah… the thing's about halfway through. Now you're probably wondering where I got the idea for Aya Sazaki… If you watch ALIAS, you'll find that SD-6 has its own resident genius and motor mouth, Marshall Flinkman. I just thought that putting two and two together made… I dunno, four? Sorry I couldn't fit Ryo into this chapter. Heh, heh. Don't worry, though, you'll see him very soon. As for Henry's family being recalled to China, well, this little excerpt should give you more or less, a clue of what that has to do in the grand plan:

          "Good day, Mister Wong. My name is Jian-Lee Xing, and I work for the government."

          "Well, I half expected you guys to have a liaison waiting for us…" John Wong replied somewhat unsurprised, "What do you want?"

          "Tell me, Mister Wong. How long has your son been involved with digital phenomena such as Digimon?"

          "Why do you want to know?"

          "I see that you're the inquisitive type, aren't you? Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but that information is classified."

Okay, so that didn't reveal that much about the plot concerning Henry's emigration to China… what the hell? Well, maybe this upcoming one-shot I'm working on would interest you… It's just a peek, but what the hell? It's going to be a songfic too, with a pretty dark atmosphere. With Chapter 5 all done, maybe I can work on this and finish it in a month or so… but just because I'm working on something else doesn't mean I've stopped working on this little thing I call Guardian Algorithm. Besides, if you looked up my bio, you will notice that I have a sequel on the coming soon status: Pandora's Fox. Might as well give you a peek on that too, eh? Well then prepare for a double sneak peek special on my soon to come fics!

          "The Winner and National Champion: Arvin Sloane!" the referee announced, lifting the said person's right arm in a victory stance. Arvin looked, how should one say? Foreign. His dress code was your standard turn-of-the-20th-century American kid's clothing: a black beret that topped his messy dirt blonde mane, long-sleeved white button-top shirt, and suspenders, along with brown mountaineering boots. Arvin smirked wryly, his eyes boring holes into the greatest Adversary he'd ever had: the redhead sitting at the front row of the audience who wore a blue 'you-broke-my-heart' T-shirt, returning his stare with one that gave so cold an impression that you would freeze if you weren't careful.

          Rika Nonaka hated that man down to the core for beating her at the one thing she actually found interest in. It was really pointless to hate someone who was, to put it simply, better than you at what you did. However, she wasn't the kind of person to think about points. He was going to pay for this outrage, and one way or the other she was going to gain possession of the title, 'Queen of the Cards'… if it was the last thing she ever did.

That one was supposed to go with the lyrics for Linkin Park's 'In the End'. I know, it sounds pretty senseless at first, but I assure you, it will make sense later. Now this one's from my sequel-to-be for Guardian Algorithm.

          The Guardian Algorithm checked with Virgin, attempting to identify this strange Digimon that it was not familiar with. "No, I got nothing on this baby. Well, besides the standard Renamon chassis, she's completely alien. Oh, and one more thing. Her power output is unbelievable! At Rookie level, she can trash your average Mega like he was something that belonged to a garbage can! I'm granting you authorization for an emergency Strike Team transmogrification if you want, but whether you use it or not is entirely up to you."

          "Virgin has no information concerning this Digimon," the program in black announced to its companions.

          "Engaging a Digimon whose identity Virgin has no data on is risking a 50-50 chance of defeat, even if we are in numbers," the second pointed out, "Do we proceed?"

          "Yes," the third answered, "It's still…"

          "Just…" the first tailed.

          "A Digimon…" the second finished as the first launched its attack, sending a right fist towards its target: namely, the 'Black' Renamon, who intercepted it without so much as breaking a sweat. It gritted its virtual teeth as the mysterious Digimon tightened its three-fingered grasp on the 'Agent's' hand and crushed it, the aforementioned body part evaporating into countless crumbs of pure data.

Okay, now I know what you people are thinking, and yes, that scene was a rip-off from The Matrix: Reloaded. I just couldn't help it… I thought the idea was really cool. Anyway, this pretty much gives a peek on my future plans for writing… I think I'm going to take a break from writing Guardian Algorithm for a while, but once I'm done with that one-shot, I'm getting back to the action. Thanks for all of your support right now! My current goal is to try surpassing two of my favorite authors on FF.net: Ender1, and C. E. Fleming. You've gotta check out their fics some time! Especially Ender1's Marooned (check out the Vandread section), and C. E. Fleming's Insurrection (check out the Starcraft section). One last thing before this extra long note comes to an end: PLEASE REVIEW!