A/N- Thanks to everyone who replied to my sudden bout of insecurity and let me know that they still enjoyed this series. You are the best. Things start to escalate from this point so heads up!
Cookie to those who pointed out the Gates-Murdoch conspiracy.
BTW- for all those who pointed to Fayth's Coming to Terms as one to read, I feel thatI should hang my head in shame. I will update that!!!!... eventually.
To GivenAlias- darker for ya?
Chapter 5- Falling into Kansas.
The leather restraints were strong and tight against his fragile wrists, biting down into the already raw skin. The amount of struggling that he had already done rubbed his hands until they were red and starting to drip red blood drops onto his tight fists.
"Okay," a sharp voice echoed in his delicate ears. "Punishment is due for weakness."
He tried to answer but the gag as well as the jaw harness held his mouth open stopping him from uttering a sound. Not that he would have had anything intelligent to say anyway, at this point his thought processes were centred on the pain in his eyes from the red laser blasting red hot images onto the back of his retinas.
The pictures were the normal ones used in this form of torture. Pictures of strength; military, physical, emotional—a soldier standing strong in an army, a wrestler with muscles bulging as he pummelled another man, a stiff face at a funeral pyre, a man walking on hot coals—and mixed into the images were words, words that damned him.
A soldier with a gun. Strength. A hand in the flame. Duty. Bulging biceps. No weakness. An atomic explosion. Force. An army marching through a village. Emotionless. A girl standing in carnage and sneer on her face. Power.
He twitched as the images came faster and the words span out. The voice came from one side.
"Sentimentality is a weakness that our enemies can exploit. It's a hallmark of a weak mind. Strength is your tool."
A loud bang came near his ear causing him to wince.
"LISTEN TO ME!" screamed the voice, louder now. "This is a lesson that you have to learn. Stability and discipline are the only things that will protect you. You are not meant to be without them.You are a soldier, you must have discipline!"
He could hear a button pressed near his shoulder and a slight tingle in his fingertips was all the warning he had before a jolt of pure pain shot through his nerve endings, causing his breath to catch.
"A soldier must hone his self-control, you must not be weak!"
It was all he could not to scream as the pressure behind his eyes built, the pictures coming faster and faster. The electric pulse swept his body again, leaving him shaking as he tried not to cry.
Suddenly both the pain and the images stopped. One lone picture shone in his eyes; a small girl, clutching something that resembled a grizzly bear but softer, more vulnerable looking. She was crying, her face red and wet with tears, and her large eyes beseeching the camera. She reminded him of one of his Unit.
"Does this make you cry?" hissed the voice."Female wiles are a soldier's enemy. Don't get led around by your hormones; that is weak. Are you weak soldier?"
He tried to shake his head, more to rid himself of the image than to deny the accusation.
The voice grabbed his hair and tugged so that his gaze met deep brown eyes filed with nothing. Blank eyes that didn't care what was happening.
"When in enemy territory any sign of sympathy is weakness. Compassion is a tool they use against you. Sensitivity is NOT permitted. You have no emotions. Strength is your tool. Cultivate that."
The one image stayed as the voltage was turned higher and higher. His hands flailed trying to catch at something, his nails dug into his own palms, blood drawing down his fists in string rivulets until it pooled beneath his tiny palms, his breathing harsh as his nerve endings screamed. Through it all the girl stared at him, unblinkingly as tears raced down her cheeks in tandem with his.
"Strength, soldier. Strength is your tool."
The volts slipped higher as his whole body shook.
"Are you weak?"
He was wracked with pain.
"Are you WEAK?"
"NO SIR!"
B.J. bolted up in bed, his sweat dampened hair sticking to his forehead as his breaths came in ragged sobs.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god."
B.J. brought shaking hands up to his face to push his soaked hair out of his face. He could feel the dampness seep to every spot of his body and didn't need to look down to know that his bare chest was also drenched in little drops.
As the sheet slid onto the floor he tilted his head back and allowed the draughts in the place to blow softly across his fevered forehead.
He hauled in another shuddery sob and cursed himself as a tear slid down his cheek.
He drew his knees up to his chest and slid backwards in the bed until his back rested against the headboard. His shoulders shook with suppressed sobs as he cradled himself tightly. His head on his knees, he began to rock backwards and forwards.
-----
Sunny sat back in her chair, a smirk on her face as she slung an arm over the back of the plush seat.
"And I guess you would be the new bad guy in my life?"
Nicholas Dresden brushed imaginary dust off his suit sleeve and smiled at her.
"You are more beautiful in person than on camera."
"Already missing the old bad guy," she sighed as Biggs hid a grin. He loved this part of her. Sometimes she was so sweet she could send him into a diabetic coma, but sometimes, just sometimes, she could rival Max and Drew in the bitch stakes. It was certainly fun to watch and he had every understanding why Alec and Dek were so smitten when the girls turned on that honeyed poison.
Mr. Dresden was less than amused as he folded his arms over his chest. He had summoned them to the security room intent on letting them know what they had done. To his cynical mind it gave them a chance to sweat over all of the things that he didn't yet know and made them more susceptible to dropping hints of said misdemeanours.
It was a large room with a deep red carpet. The dark wood walls made the room seem all that much more foreboding and secretive. The console behind him was made up of twelve computers each showing a different location in the hotel with adjustable cameras so he could follow anything that took his eye. He could, literally, see every square inch of the casino from this room.
"I am chief of security, my name is Nicholas Dresden. Perhaps I can request your names?"
"Sunny Metson," she held out her delicate hand and Mr. Dresden was enough of a gentleman to kiss her knuckles.
The rakish dark-haired man mischievously held out his hand too and then dropped it with a smirk as Nicholas raised an eyebrow.
"Biggsworth Alexander, call me Biggs."
Sunny leaned sideways and crossed her legs over each other, almost laughing as every eye in the room was directed to her long legs.
Men!
"So Mr. Dresden, besides the terrible décor of this room what is the problem?"
Nicholas forced himself not to stare around the room and answered, "That would be you, my dear."
"How so?"
He liked this young lady. She was direct and seemed to have as cynical a nature as he himself did.
"It has come to my attention that you have been extraordinarily… lucky at the tables."
"Is that a crime?" Biggs asked innocently.
"It is for someone as lucky as you," Nicholas' tone lost some of its joviality. "You seem to have amassed almost half a million."
"Seven hundred thousand ,six hundred and fifty seven dollars twenty two." Sunny raised an eyebrow. "Last count."
"Although I did buy a burger for lunch so take a dollar fifty from that," Biggs added stretching his arm over her chair and smiling benignly up at Nicholas.
"Seven…" Nicholas began faintly and then his face flushed in anger. "You may find, Ms. Metson, that that kind of luck is dangerous indeed."
"Now, now, Mr. Dresden," Sunny offered. "We have a room here in the hotel, we spend money on drinks and we eat here everyday, we buy our clothes in your pre-pulse stores and we play all day on the machines. You are getting your money back, after a fashion, so what is the harm?"
"The harm," Nicholas hissed, "is that I am chief of security and I can't tell exactly how you are cheating—which you must be to win that much."
"No offence," Biggs nodded, "But your observation isn't as precise as you want it."
Nicholas stiffened, "I beg your pardon?"
Biggs gestured to the large screens over on one side which showed the entire casino.
"Top monitor, the guy in blue's left sleeve dips too low indicating something heavy concealed. My guess? He's got hardware. The concierge on the far right with the bangs--"
"Ew," shuddered Sunny.
"—he keeps ducking his head and is speaking into a receiver placing bets."
"Third monitor lady in orange by black jack with, oh so, bad hair has a mirror in it showing the cards of the player behind her to the man opposite him—her partner," Sunny added. "And the guy on the left screen is tapping his foot in rhythm to the roulette wheel's movements; he has a receiver in his shoe."
Nicholas managed to keep his countenance as he watched those they mentioned on the screen.
"Anything else?"
"Woman in low cut red dress has cards up her sleeves and the older man by the poker is a letch,"
"What?"
Sunny smiled sweetly, "Oh, he tried to feel me up earlier."
"Me too," Biggs shrugged.
Nicholas watched them as he sat behind his impressive desk. There was no way that they had taken their eyes away from him that long to spot those actions. He was sure of that much and yet they had seen cues and signs that he would have missed out on. He was silent for a long moment before speaking slowly, "You don't need or want the money. You like the thrill."
"The dresses are pretty too," Sunny offered, her usual smile lighting her face.
Nicholas took a deep breath and took the first spontaneous action he had taken in years. "Instead of dealing with you as potential cheats and tossing you over to Vegas security or even the police," he shuddered. "Perhaps you would consider working for me?"
"As…"
"As security staff," Nicholas nodded. "You have good eyes, a fresh outlook and can blend in enough to be my eyes on the ground."
He stood up and walked around the room, his hands behind his back as his suit jacket brushed Sunny's shoulder. "I am sure that you are aware of the decrease on loyal employees after the pulse, everyone and his brother, is after a piece of the pie. It's unusual to meet someone who cares about the cooking of said pie rather than its content, are you with me?"
"Lost you around pies, I'm hungry," Biggs quipped but Sunny shot him a disapproving look.
"We are with you, Mr. Dresden. Ignore my partner he thinks maturity is a type of cheese."
"Hey!"
Nicholas hid a grin, "The wages can be set and of course there are additional bonuses. You would have to maintain a lower profile, of course."
"Naturally. Standard under any operation."
Something flickered in Nicholas' eyes, "Ah, you are ex-military?"
"Decidedly," Sunny said softly, with a hint of danger in her tone.
Nicholas nodded his acquiescence to her hidden remark to butt out.
"It seems that you will be able to take care of yourself then? Perhaps we should continue this in my office. It is far more comfortable."
"Good idea," Sunny nodded and uncrossed her long legs walking to the door with Biggs behind her. "While we are at that, you can put a call through to our hotel room and tell your security men to stop searching it for hidden devices."
Nicholas let the corner of his mouth smirk, "Something tells me that it is a mistake to underestimate you, Ms. Metson. I must apologise."
"Oh don't worry," Sunny grinned handing him back the wallet he didn't realise she had stolen, "Everyone underestimates blondes."
----
Jace watched as Billy… no, B.J., shuffled papers on his desk and it was only her transgenic sight that allowed her to see the fine tremors in his hands. He had been working for her for two weeks now and she was becoming— accustomed— to the strange man, he exasperated her as much as Ash or riled her as much as Krit did. He usually walked in with a smile and cup of coffee for them both. Then he'd sit at his desk and start the work that she assigned for him, normally whistling some obscenely cheerful tune.
Today there was a distinct absence of cheery tune and smart ass remarks and it was unsettling.
"B.J?" she asked in her usual authoritarian manner.
"Uh huh," he grunted, not even bothering to look up.
"Could you please print out the raw recruits file for the 23rd platoon?"
"Mmm."
She took that to be affirmative, "And then I'd like you to set out the monthly rota for the base staff."
"Hmm."
Jace frowned, "Then I need you to type up the rhinoceros and fax it to your cat."
"Sure."
Jace folded her arms, "Hello? B.J.?"
B.J. blinked and looked up at her, "Ma'am?"
"Please repeat what I just said."
B.J. stared up at his irate boss, her dark eyes flashing and thanked heaven for his transgenic memory which categorised things that he wasn't even aware of. "I'm to print out raw recruit list for the 23rds, set the rota for the base staff and," wait… what???
He paused, his mind whirling with what his brain said he had heard, "Uh… something about… I guess you… uh… I don't have a cat."
Jace's lips twitched lightly, "Right. Cancel that one then."
B.J. let out a small self-deprecating laugh, "Right."
Jace straightened her shoulders, "What is it?"
B.J. eyed her, "I thought you didn't do the touchy-feely thing?"
She sighed. Well, she deserved that, she supposed, after all she presented a cool austere façade to the world and refused to deign to laugh at any of his jokes or comments. She did not engage in small talk or inconsequentialities and found his ramblings to be… an amusing diversion. She'd even remembered some of them to recount to Zack the next time that she saw him. B.J was a funny guy; she thought he'd get along with Ben maybe.
"I have my moments. What is the problem?"
"Can't sleep," he muttered and pushed his hair away from his eyes, not looking at her.
"My brother once said that if you lay on the edge of the bed you'll soon drop off," she said uncomfortably.
B.J. stared at her incredulously for a wild moment and then threw back his head and laughed. His shoulders shook as he howled in laughter.
Jace stiffened, "It wasn't that amusing."
"Darlin'," he said wiping tears from his eyes, "That was one of the worst jokes I have ever heard in my life. But you telling it makes it better. Thank you."
Jace shrugged one shoulder as he giggled again, "You are a sad, strange little man and you have my pity."
She got up to answer the telephone, leaving the man to chuckling to himself.
"Thank you for calling the USMA, military recruitment section, this is Jacenette Knightsbridge speaking."
"I'll never get over how stuck up you sound saying that, baby sister."
"Zack," she was able to keep all delight out of her tone only due to years of practise at trying to make him see her. To appreciate the soldier she was and the model follower she had turned out to be.
"Yeah, it's me, Jacey- girl."
She rolled her eyes and perched on the edge of the table, "You know I despise that ridiculous nickname."
"Yeah, listen, are you still up to speed on all the recent army recruits?"
"Uh huh," she hedged aware that B.J. was still in the room although it was doubtful that he would be able to hear from where he was sitting.
"Anything that I should be aware of?"
Jace sat down at her desk, and flipped open a small clipboard that she kept strictly for Zack's calls. She knew that he liked the information that she was able to pass on.
"Twenty recruits headed to Fort Ashworth. Six platoons are on manoeuvres in the South Pacific and there is an uprising in Africa that has taken more than two sections by surprise."
"Hmm," Zack's voice was distant. "Any more of those barcoded murders?"
Jace bit her lip and thought back to last year when she had uncovered a sudden rash of killings where the murderer had tattooed a barcode on the neck of the victim. She had never been able to find what the designation of those codes was and the murders had petered out after a while.
"Nothing recently, although I was told that a "severe military man" was interested in the killings."
"Lydecker," Zack breathed. "Do we think that it was one of us?"
"Or it could have nothing to do with trans—" she glanced over at a very still B.J. "transcendental meditation and have been coincidence."
"Say what?" Zack's tone was bemused and then sharpened. "Is there someone there with you?"
"Of course," she nodded even though he couldn't see her. "I have the file still."
"I'm coming over to collect it," Zack said decisively. "It'll take a week for me to get to the west coast."
"You so far away?" she asked, slightly hurt.
"I needed to check on Ben… He's gone off again."
"Where?"
"If I knew he wouldn't be gone."
Jace bristled at his tone, "Gee Zack, Prozac is everyone's friend."
"I'll take that under advisement, Zack out."
Before she could say goodbye he had put the phone down.
She glared at the plastic and fought the juvenile urge to poke her tongue out at the instrument. Why was it that a five minute conversation with Zack was enough to make her forget why she held him in such high esteem? And why was she the only one that he treated like that?
She stood up, intent on rechecking her information for when her big brother came to pick up the information.
She wasn't aware of B.J.'s eyes watching her intently as she left the room.
----
Carrot dropped his head at the sound of the voice calling him back.
"Oh Carrot?"
He sagged and peeked over his shoulder at Logan Cale who wheeled himself to the door.
"Yeah, what?"
Logan grinned, "Hello to you, I didn't hear you come in."
"Sorry, Mom."
Logan shuddered for a second. Carrot suddenly reminded him of Seth. Seth was the first transgenic that he had ever come across; a surly James Dean-esque young man who hated him at first… and second sight. It had been the same sort of arrangement that he shared with Carrot… and it had gotten the young transgenic killed. Something that he wasn't eager to share with Carrot.
"Logan?"
He was shaken out of his musings by the redhead and he smiled weakly, regaining some of his smugness.
"Yes, I wanted to speak to you about something that I pulled off the radio. The police radio," he clarified.
"Well I didn't think you wanted to discuss the difference between Britney and Christina's styles."
Logan frowned, "Who?"
Carrot waved, "Not important. So what did the good ol' police radio have to say?"
"Well it was about mass killings, so I went to my contact on the police force and according my source its some kind of mysterious pathogen. A toxin that killed 22 Chinese people."
"So?" Carrot shrugged, his leather clad shoulders hunching.
"Rumors are that a badly deformed transgenic is hiding out in China-Town bleeding through its skin."
"Sounds like an anomaly," Carrot said his tone growing cooler.
"If he is the killer—"
"Wait," Carrot gave a nasty glare. "So we've gone from mysterious toxin to transgenic killer? Who made that leap?"
Logan sighed, "Manticore wasn't exactly a peace keeping facility."
"Just because we are trained to kill doesn't mean that we do. This guy probably has a hard enough time blending than to be called a murderer."
Logan wheeled back slightly from the irate man.
"But this toxin—"
"Could be anywhere and you say it's only attacking Chinese? Manticore was pretty much an equal opportunity hellhole. All right, Logan?"
Logan held up his hands in an attempt to pacify the irate young man. "I'm stating it as possibility is all."
"I don't care." It took a lot to get mild-mannered Carrot angry but Logan had done it with his presumptuousness. "I will have no part in your investigation."
Logan glared as Carrot stood up and stalked over to the door. He wrenched it open so fast the painting on one side of the room shook in its frame.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. I'm going to go back to my apartment and spend some time with my mate."
"But I need you to go to China town—"
"Go yourself, I'm sure they have disabled access." The door slammed behind him and this time the painting hit the floor.
----
The main problem with their business was that it took them into the heart of the places where the lowest of low life forms existed.
Aiden shucked his coat higher on his shoulders and glared at the rain that had the temerity to drizzle down his nape.
Stupid bloody weather. Stupid bloody coats with their too large necks. Stupid bloody Chinese Ming crappy 18th whatever dynasty vase and stupid bloody Dek with his Pix-esque desire to bugger things up.
Why the stupid moron couldn't have found a better buyer to hand the vase over to, he had no bloody idea, or at least somewhere better to hand it over than this pseudo clandestine bridge that looked the epitome of every black and white detective drama or sappy romance setting he had ever seen on that broken down television set in his room.
Dek was at the other end of the stone bridge in a standard flanking procedure, making sure that they were foxed or boxed in. it was cold, it was dark and it was boring.
In short, Aiden was bored and would rather be anywhere else than here right now.
"Dek," he hissed into the short microphone hidden in his jacket lapel. "Where the hell is this guy?"
"Would you relax?" Dek sounded annoyingly like Alec when he said that. "He'll be here. The Vase is worth a few hundred grand easy. You can afford to wait for that much cash. Unless my sweetheart is too cold?"
The remark Aiden gave him was short and sweet. Dek laughed down the receiver.
"Love you too, sweets… wait up, movement. Third quadrant."
Aiden rolled his eyes, "This better be our guy or I'm going home."
"Wuss," Dek said before the crackle showed Aiden that he had gone.
"Pansy," he mocked as he stomped his feet.
A dark figure draped in an overcoat stumbled into the dark recesses of the bridge.
"Mr. Totty?"
Aiden bit his lip and rolled his eyes at Dek's appointed last name for him. Sometimes he wondered where that boy got his sense of humour from. He was far too twisted to be a transgenic.
"Yeah, Mr. Travers?"
"And friends."
Aiden spun around to see a fairly short dark-haired man walking up casually behind him with a long black trench coat.
"Can I help you?" he asked cautiously knowing that something had gone wrong.
"Yes," the man said tucking his hands deeply into his pockets. "I'm looking for a test subject and you'll do nicely."
"Sorry," Aiden said. "I don't test well."
The man smirked unbecomingly.
"Oh I'm sure you'll pass this one with flying colours."
Aiden wrapped his arms across his chest and took a fortifying breath. "I kinda don't wanna do business anymore. I'm sure ya'll understand."
"Oh, you're not going anywhere."
As Aiden took two steps, five men walked out of the shadows, effectively blocking him off.
"A ha," Aiden nodded sagely. "Right."
"I do hope that you'll come quietly," the man said snidely. "Not that it matters much. One way or another."
"Dek?" he hissed into his silent microphone. "Help here?"
"Do I get introductions before I kick your ass?" he quipped.
The man stood straighter. "My name is Ames White, remember it."
"Amy White—got it."
White glared at the deliberate mistake which cheered Aiden up.
"You transgenics all think you are so damn funny."
Oh. Dear. Hell. Aiden thought as he realised that this man knew who he was… what he was. That was new and it meant that it was definitely time to get out of there.
"In my defence, my roommate has a truly appalling sense of humour. Sometimes mine is lightly inappropriate to compensate."
"Enough!" White snapped. "Get him."
One of the men on his left with a scar-shaped tattoo on his beefy forearm headed straight for him. The one on his right with a freckled face edged closer as well.
Aiden quickly brought his arms up in a defensive posture. His fists clenched and he watched the two men – Freckles and Beefy—as they circled him, their hands moving in a way that made it clear that they knew martial arts, or had watched too many Jackie Chan movies.
As Freckles moved closer Aiden spun out his fist catching him a blow to the side of the face. Aiden's hand stung but his lips curved at that beauty punch. It should have been enough to knock him out or at least knock him over. It should have told them that Aiden was not some lame pushover. It should have made the others back off slightly and allowed him to leave. It should not have done nothing more than make Freckles head turn lightly. Freckles grinned sardonically and Aiden took a step back.
Aiden dodged the blow that Freckles sent his way and ducked, his fist coming up in a swift move designed to knock the air out of his lungs. Freckles staggered backwards but his breath was steady, much to Aiden's dismay and he recovered too fast, coming back at Aiden with fists flying. Beefy snuck up behind him and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back in a move that Dek would have called sissy. But with Beefy's knee in his back it was an effective way of holding the victim until Freckles was close enough to pull a syringe out of his pocket.
At the sight of the shiny needle Aiden stopped messing about. Whatever was in that syringe was intended to incapacitate a transgenic. Aiden sagged against Beefy and then, when his hold loosened, he jolted upright, knocking the hands away and levered sideways until he could snap his foot up into Freckles chest. The syringe dropped from his hand and smashed against the cobbled floor.
Aiden grinned, his breathing hardly laboured. White snapped at that moment.
"What are you waiting for?"
In his haste Aiden had forgotten the other three… four men that surrounded him.
"Uh, Dek?" he sang.
He stared at the five men surrounding him and then quickly at White who stood to one side smirking.
"Question? What the hell did I do to you?"
"You exist."
"Ah, the old existential argument," Aiden sighed. "Bring it on."
Before any of the men could make a move one staggered and slumped to his face, his neck bent at an odd angle. They all looked up to the man standing behind him.
"Uh… oops?" Dek offered.
White's eyes boggled, "Two scum."
Dek frowned, "Is that grammatical? Two scum? Two scums?"
Aiden stared incredulously, they were in the middle of a fight and he was debating grammar? "Hello?"
"Oh, right," Dek spun out and kicked the man closest to him in the head. His foot impacted with a crack and a spurt of blood spewed from the man's mouth.
Dek winced at the globule of spit that laded on his jacket and in that split second a second man with a bald head managed to kick his feet out from under him. With a yelp Dek hit the ground, his body jarring upon impact.
Dek rolled just as Baldy tried to stomp on his head. He jumped to his feet and swung out at the one with a split lip.
Aiden punched Freckles in the face and back-kicked Beefy as fast as he could. Both men stumbled back but were attacking again before he could regroup.
Aiden found himself with a face full of fist and a boot in his back.
"Dek, they're Xs!"
Split lip slammed his fist into Dek's face and gouged a chuck out of his arm before Dek was able to deflect the man away from him.
Dek swung his feet out and tripped Split lip, throwing him into Baldy. He leaned over and froze.
"No barcodes!"
"Then what the hell are you guys?"
"Better!" White said appearing just as Beefy got to his feet.
Aiden's fist was stopped as White expertly blocked the move.
"Sonofabitch!" Aiden spun at Dek's cry and he saw Dek leaning over with his hand on his side, blood spurting from his fingers.
"Dek?"
Dek waved him back as he circled Baldy, the latter grinning in triumph, silver gleaming in his hand.
"That's cheating."
"So?" it was the first word that any of the fighters had said and his low grunting tone matched his personality to a T.
He slashed at Dek, who darted back, hissing at the pain in his side before snapping his elbow back sharply to slam into Split lip's face.
Aiden circled White quickly looking for any hint of an opening even as the two men stood at his back.
Dek was having trouble with his two fighters. He had managed to knock Split lip away and Baldy was on his back in front of him but the knife wound in his side was stinging like crazy. He heard Aiden cry out and turned around.
Baldy reared back and slammed his legs into the back of Dek's head, knocking him on his ass. Baldy flipped himself up and towered over Dek, he aimed a foot at his mid-section and brought back his leg.
"Not joking now, are we, scum?" he gloated.
Dek caught the foot in mid air and twisted; he heard the quick snap of bone and gave an exquisite smile of satisfaction. As Baldy fell backwards, Dek stood.
"Always," he reached down and snapped his neck with an audible crack. He snatched the knife that had fallen on the ground and swung, bringing it quickly into Split lip. He brought it up, under his rib cage and twisted, thick heavy blood pouring over Dek's hand, making his grip on the knife slippery.
"Kill them!" screamed White as he saw Dek's two enemies at his feet.
"Gee, what were you trying to do before?" Dek gasped, his hand at his side.
Aiden flipped over White's head to land side by side with his best friend.
"Dek?" he said quietly.
"Shit," he summed up succinctly.
"Plan B?"
Dek nodded and before he could say another word Aiden grabbed him and threw him as high as his transgenic strength would allow. Dek grabbed onto the underside of the bridge and swung himself like a Gargoyle up and onto the stone construction.
He could hear Aiden's familiar steps behind him and the roar of that White guy as they tried to follow.
He leaned over the edge of the bridge and wrenched a heavy stone free from its masonry. Like a mountain man he hurled the boulder down onto the man who tried to reach up after Aiden.
The stone hit him and he fell on top of White.
Aiden landed by Dek's side and they raced to the opposite side of the bridge. Dek grabbed Aiden's arm, and jumped. They free fell for a second until they landed on top of a passing truck.
Aiden watched as White stared after them as they disappeared around the corner. He panted for his breath for a few loud minutes and then gently rolled off the top of the truck into the undergrowth at the side of the road. He rolled slightly, letting the over grown grass cushion his fall then fell to a stop.
It was several moments before he heard Dek by his side. He got to his feet and stared shakily back down the road making sure White and his two remaining goons weren't following them.
"What was that?" Aiden panted.
Dek clutched his aching chest. "Why the hell are you asking me?"
"Because you are Special Ops."
Dek looked at him incredulously, "So ARE YOU!"
Aiden blinked, "Oh shit!"
------------------------------------
Wow, talk about overwhelmed by the response to my little plea. Thank you so much all of you for cheering me up so much. You guys rock!
---
Geminangel- I'm glad that you are still liking this, More Dek and Aiden humor for you here to keep you cracking up.
Sigma1- Drew has her own story to come in, which is good because I've missed her. Glad I could spark your week back for you.
Stormvind- Sunny and Biggs kicking ass—oh yeah. Skye doesn't have Shark DNA—she's just a grouchy wench. Both Emma and Anna will be coming up shortly- watch for them.
Crazy-Vampire Slayer- Pix and Chance were mostly in MAL but they will have bigger parts in the future I promise. Thanks for the rec's- I'll try them.
Em- thank you angel, that was what I needed to hear at that point. Keep reading!
SGOU- As long as you keep on saying it then I have no problems with hearing it. Of course I plan to make you very happy soon. Plan A and B are ploys that I employ too! Everyone thinks BJ and Anna will end up together its interesting. (When have I ever given you what you expect?)
Ronda TIW- More Pix and Chance to come, I promise and more updates as well!
Lynn-50670- Cheers pet.
BlueJean452- I adore Hot sweet heat- its been a while since I read it though. Both very valid points. Enjoy!
Lozz422- The Greeks are fast becoming favourites- aren't they so damn cute!
GivenAlias- Cutting edge science with humor. I haven't been depressed in months so the story is lighter grin . Do you prefer the darker undertone? I have flashback's a plenty on hold if you do.
SnortableSniffy- I wouldn't keep you in suspense that long…would I?
Ganko- sorry angel, I wrote people who had reviewed sorry if I missed you. Hugs back. Yeah there has been a shortage but I must admit to not checking it out as often anymore. I really must do!
Nevanroy- I hoped that would be the case. To be honest I didn't expect them to be the focus of the story but they have suddenly appeared that way. I appreciate you reviewing and its courtesy to tell you so. Thank you so much.
Feenian- LOL- the show not that good but the fanfic is. You know that's a good point. Thank you! Keep reviewing and I won't get bored.
Natacup82- I'll have to check that one out- thanks for that. What story are you writing? I'll read that.
Greentrees- I love bavite so I'll look that up. Thank you.
Jade- Flex and Skye are doing better now. Thanks for the words of praise; they were really welcome at this point. When I feel down I'll reread this review- thank you.
Tiggi- LOL- thank you sweets, I'll have to read those grin . I overheard a conversation is next on my list- honest.
Elfie- I think I was going for an amalgamation of s1 and 2. I like the humor of s2 but the darkness of s1. There was more fear I think before the breakout. Maybe the whole ambience of Freak Nation without the crappy plot. Yeah there is always need for certain jobs and construction is always going to be one- so the money would be good. Josh is a sweetheart and he plays off Carrot well. Oh yeah Ana and Nyx- sisters in arms!! Scary thought. Yup I wondered who would pick up on the Gates- Murdoch thing. Cookie for you for getting that!
Moonlite Star- You read my mind. Watch the Greeks at school soon. Flatterer! Cheers pet, needed that.
Kim- she has her wake up call and is doing well on that.
Crimsonshadoe- I couldn't leave you waiting too long, my updates are getting further apart! Sorry. Its good that Flex can stand up and not always have to be the irresponsible one. don't ya love him! Oh Logan has NO chance with Max and I think Tara might gut him way way before then.
Badangel- Hi sweetheart, I will update faster promise!
Arwen-amy- There will be a lot about Flex/skye and the Greeks as they are so much fun to do.
Senorita-DLH- hi there again, glad that you are still enjoying when you get the chance.
ALSO BIG THANKS TO-
Care Bear
Elfie
Chaosti
Lotamoxie
Wendy
For their emails- love you.