Disclaimer: I do not own Totally Spies.

And I'm back, it's been a long time. Long story short, I hit a bit of a mental snag when I started hanging out with people again, my brain was trying to concentrate on too much at once, so I just decided to stop the writing for a little until I could handle both. More looks into his twisted past for all you who enjoy that sort of thing too.

The Assassin: WOOHP Files

Chapter 12

Nate Sindel

It didn't take Nate long to reach the warehouse where his plane was still hidden, and, upon opening the door, he noticed that the vehicle he wanted had already been unloaded. He smiled, glad that the message was received. His hand reached out and traced along the curves of the Corvette Stingray; it was going to feel good to hop back in.

And it did.

He peeled out of the warehouse and into the city, traversing the familiar route to Devin's bar. It didn't take long, the radio only had time to play one song in the time it took him...traffic was low. The wind whipped at his hair as he drifted around a corner, the car remaining sideways as he slid in front of the back entrance of the bar. He stopped there briefly before driving in.

"Hm, wonder if they've gone to bed yet?" he looked up at the back wall, at the lit and unlit windows, finding that theirs was still lit. "Nope."

His boots made slightly ominous sounds as he approached the door, which opened before he could get to the handle. Devin stood there, with a shotgun in his hands...that was lowered as soon as he saw who it was. He moved aside and let Nate in.

"Where have you been?" Devin asked, hanging the shotgun back up on the wall.

"Reminiscing with some old acquaintances," he replied, sitting at the bar.

"I see, Felicia's family?"

"No, actually, Dean and Brittany, they had this strange idea of trying to capture me," he chuckled.

"Ah, so you killed them?"

"Just Dean, I never really had anything against Brittany," he cast an eye over onto Devin. "You didn't tell them where I was, did you?"

"What, of course not," Devin said immediately. "I would never do something like that. They must be keeping closer tabs on you than you thought they might."

"Hmhm, Jerry is the type to be that much of an idiot," Nate chuckled a little. "I'm going to kill him, Devin, I'm going to make him wish he had never sent me on that mission, I'm going to dismantle WOOHP piece by piece, bit by bit, agent by agent...until everything is gone."

"Woah, woah, no need to go that far," Devin grabbed his old friend by his shoulders, attempting to shake him. "Seriously, we've all lost people we care about, most of them to WOOHP, but that's no reason to kill everyone there. Most of them don't even know what the hell happens underground."

Nate turned his red eyes upon the former tech, he fully understood what this man was telling him, and he didn't care. They took the only thing in this world he had desired, the only thing he wanted. All of them at WOOHP were allowed the right to leave, allowed the right to have relationships, allowed to love, but not him. There was going to be no forgiveness...even if it meant having to take down Clover, Sam, and Alex.

"They are all going to pay, the ones who took it upon themselves to try and control me. And whoever gets in my way is going to die."

His voice was grave, emotionless, almost demonic; Devin had never seen him like this.

"What about that nice little spy-girl?"

"I don't foresee myself having to harm them, but I will if necessary."

"Listen to me Sindel, I may have no more ties to WOOHP, and could honestly care less what you do to them, but to actually say you would kill her, then that's as good as saying you pulled the trigger to kill Feli-HURK!"

Nate's hand was around his neck now.

"Devin, don't ever say her name," he released the older man.

"Like it or not she cares about you, a great deal, I might add, and if you're going to throw away a second chance at happiness, then so be it," Devin turned and started to walk away. "You're not the only one who's lost the one you loved."

"I'm sorry, Devin, I forgot about Summer," Nate said, calming down considerably. "If it's any consolation, she felt no pain."

"I know, you did everything you could for her, the EVAC squad was too slow," Devin turned, his eyes downcast.

The mission had been a flop, one agent was dead, and the other two barely alive as it was. Nate stood, leaning against a tree, looking into the fire that they had built. There, laying on the ground, was a young woman, she was bleeding considerably. While he could feel his wounds healing themselves, slowly but surely, he knew that she would not recover from the multiple gunshot wounds to her midsection and chest.

It was a wonder she was alive at all.

The morphine seemed to help as she was sleeping soundly now, the ground littered with bandages and other medical supplies. He had done what he could for her wounds, but it had been too late, and he had taken too long getting her out of the building that now lay behind them, demolished.

"Nate?" he glanced from the fire to her. "Are you there?"

"Yes," he knelt beside her, reaching out to grasp her hand, "I'm here."

"I want you to tell Devin...tell him I'm sorry," tears were beginning to streak her face.

"Don't say that, the CUE will be here any second, then you'll be fine," he squeezed her hand, hearing her moan as she tried to move even the slightest bit. "Don't move, you'll reopen the wounds."

She wasn't listening, she had begun to babble. "He and I, we were supposed to be married in two months, did you know that? We had the whole thing planned out, it was going to be perfect, but that's not going to happen. Even if I do recover from these wounds, I'll never be able to bear children, Nate, I'll never be able to have a family."

"A family," he looked down, hearing her whimper again.

"I want you to do something for me," she reached up, placing her hand on his cheek. "I want you to kill me."

"WHAT!? NO, I WON'T DO IT!" he pulled away from her, seeing the desperate, faraway look in her eyes.

"Please..." she reached for him, rolling herself onto her side, mewling in pain as the bandages on her stomach and chest shifted, reopening the wounds.

Nate stood and stepped back, his hand began moving as if of it's own accord, reaching down and unholstering the desert eagle at his hip. He tried to stop it, concentrating all his mind on not doing what his arm was doing. Slowly it moved, taking careful aim at her, and then slowly squeezing the trigger. She smiled as the shot went off, and then her head was gone.

He dropped the gun to ground, soon followed by him falling to his knees, hugging his arms across his chest and red tears streaming down his face. Alone he stood, stooping to lift up the dead body before him, and depositing it in the large fire nearby. Before lapsing into unconsciousness he let one final howl into the night sky.

It was the last time he worked on a team.

"She asked me to tell you she was sorry," Nate said, looking down. "That was before she asked me to kill her. The CUE didn't show up for another four hours, in that time, no matter what I had done, she would have died."

"Yes, I know," Devin turned away, remembering all too well that night, he had been assigned to the CUE, seeing as how his fiancé was on the team sent out. "I had pleaded with Jerry to let us go when the signal was received. But he just told me to wait, perhaps someone had set it off prematurely. I know that was a load of shit, considering you're team was the best at what you did."

"Hmhm, Jerry is full of shit," Nate continued to look down. "She was right though, with her wounds she wouldn't have been able to have children. She had chosen death over seeing you disappointed in her. That was the only time I had ever seen Summer be stupid."

"She was always going on about how when we were married we would leave WOOHP behind, have a nice little family out in the country," Devin slammed his fist into the bar. "She was so stupid."

Nate looked at Devin, knowing full well that he didn't mean what he had just said. The incident happened almost four years ago, and was the main reason for Devin's leaving of WOOHP, not the LEVIATHAN being over-budget, that was just his excuse. He had long ago forgiven Nate for taking her life, albeit a little begrudgingly. He had descended into the depths of such depression that he had almost taken his own life.

"You know, I wouldn't mind a crack at Jerry myself now that I think about it," he said with a maniacal grin on his face.

"That's the spirit," Nate perked up, seeing just how serious Devin was, and how serious that memory had unbalanced him. "All I need is your help, there's some people I need kept safe."

"Of course, I already had the saferoom all set up."

"Hmhm, good," he turned to look out the front window. "I'll have them here tomorrow. Where is Mandy?"

"Upstairs with Monica, they're more than likely asleep."

"Doubtful, Monica is not the kind to sleep while things are on her mind," he sighed, pulling from his pocket a length of hair, Felicia's. "I know you worked on her, Devin, making her into the pilot for Daedalus, but you just couldn't understand why we were made, hm?"

"Honestly, no, I don't think anyone understood why Jerry would use his own children in the way he did. Most of us just assumed that it was his means of 'being fair' to everyone else who had children," Devin smirked at that though, Jerry being "fair". "Heh, that may have been it, but in his twisted mind, he probably just saw you two as superior."

"Specimens, meant for experimentation, that's all we were to him, all of us, even Mom," Nate was continuing his stare out the front window. "Hm, funny how the things you never really pay any mind to now seem completely foreign."

"Yeah, that camera continues to irk me too."

Nate sighed again as he hid the hair back within him, the last momento of a time when he was happy. He got up and started for the stairs leading up, looking to get back to his charge...though she was technically Monica's charge. As he ascended, he couldn't help but let his thoughts turn back to Alex, how she was doing, how the other two were doing.

Jerry sat behind his desk, overlooking the report filed by the rescued Brittany, who was currently standing in front of him. She was rigid, her arms behind her, ankles together (the broken one set and currently being healed by nanites), but her face was downcast...she had failed after all.

"So you say he killed everyone and knocked you unconscious with a message for me?" he didn't look up from the short report, which seemed so interesting.

"Yes," she said. "He said he knows what happened to Felicia, and that he's coming for you."

"Well, I was expecting this from him," Jerry turned to look at her. "I've never known him to show mercy except for a few occasions, he must have a soft spot for you."

A small blush crept across her face...she had idolized him for quite a time, and he was still considered a legend. She was completely unaware of the small transponder continuing to spread itself through her, preparing to release it's full influence, to show her the truth. At the moment it was converting small amounts of the inside of her skull into more nanomachines, extending itself through her.

"Sir, if I may ask, who was Felicia, what happened to her?" she asked, the shamed look on her face changing to one of urgent questioning, always the little detective. 'If I can find out why he's doing this, perhaps I can stop him.'

"That's classified information, Brittany," Jerry placed the report back on the desk, and turned himself to look straight at her. "Now I have to meet with some people, perhaps you should go home and get some sleep."

"Yes, Sir," she saluted and turned to leave.

As she left, the ceiling dropped down, and the three spies, still in their nightwear, fell from above. All three were extremely tired, rubbing their eyes and yawning. Sam was the first to realize what had happened, and quickly stood, the others soon following. He looked them over, not realizing what time it actually was.

"So sorry to bother you girls in the middle of your sleep," he said nonchalantly, his normal charm reasserting itself. "I do hope you weren't having dreams that were too good."

"What's the mission?" Clover asked, attempting to suppress a yawn.

"I have new information as to my son's whereabouts," he smiled a little, "and that he has your friend Mandy with him."

"Where?" The blonde was suddenly wide-awake.

"He's gone back to San Francisco."

"Are we going there now?"

"No, we have reason to believe that he'll be coming back, soon," he leaned further onto his desk. "I just figured that I would let you girls know of his whereabouts."

"Oh, so how'd you figure out where he was?" Sam asked.

"We sent Dean to...ahem...'retrieve' him. Dean didn't return, so we assumed the worst."

The three spies looked at each other, thinking of what must have actually happened. Why would Jerry go to such lengths to bring Nate back after letting him go? Did it have to do with the girl, or, more likely, Jerry was hiding something, he usually was. Alex was the first one to voice a question.

"Jerry, why would you want to bring him in?" she asked with more force than the other two ever remember her using. "I mean, you just let him go."

"He got in the way of a mission, and refused to cooperate with the agent we sent. So Dean's mission was changed to retrieving him, and, well you can figure out the rest."

"That doesn't sound like him, he wouldn't interfere unless you were trying to do something to him."

"Do not proceed to think I do not understand my own son, Alex."

"But you don't-"

"Alex...I'm relieving you from duty," Jerry said, realizing that his son's pull on this spy was greater than his own.

"Fine," she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

"We'll take her home Jer," Sam said before grabbing Clover and following the other spy out.

"Hmph," he shrugged and pushed a button, dropping them through a trapdoor door that, due to possibly-alien technology, brought them to the surface. "This does not bode well, it only takes one bit of dissension in the ranks to ruin an army."

Nate stood outside the room housing his sister and Mandy, he heard giggling, something he never liked without knowing the reason behind it. His hand was raised to knock on the door when he heard Mandy ask Monica about him, he figured that he should be making his entrance here and now. So he knocked.

"Mon, it's me."

"Oh, just a sec, gotta put my pants on," he heard from the other side of the door, accompanied with much giggling...he sighed.

The door opened a couple seconds later and he was greeted with the sight of his sister buckling her belt, which had appeared on her altered clothing. She now wore a loose black tank top, tight leather pants, three belts, two of which were devoted to the holster, a thigh length, blood red trench coat, and now sported black streaks in her hair.

He sighed again before turning his attention to Mandy, who had her hand on her chin while looking at him, still in his swim trunks and green tank.

"You're the substitute who yelled at me," she announced, pointing a long finger at him. "But you look different...are you a spy too?"

He stopped moving entirely, his hands halfway in his pocket, his legs slightly bent with the movement into the room. Eyes were now fully focused on her, pupils sharpening, iris pulsing, and brow slightly furrowing,

"Before I start asking questions, how much have you told her?" he didn't look at Monica, though the question was directed at her.

"Technically you just asked a question," Monica quipped.

"Don't have time for games," his head snapped to look at his sister, who took a step back, his body was fundamentally built to be more powerful than hers.

"I told her who we are, what we are, and what we're trying to do," she relented.

"Was that so hard?" he turned back to Mandy. "I'm sorry for back then, but to be honest you were grinding my nerves."

"S'okay," she grinned, "so long as I get my Clover, then we'll be even."

"Hmhm, I have no doubts of that," he turned to look at Monica again. "And you...what exactly are you wearing?"

"You don't like it?" she asked, doing a little pirouette. "When I told her about the shifter clothing she kinda went nuts with ideas."

"Yeah, I want some, to think I could be on the cutting edge of fashion and never have to buy clothing ever again," she began giggling again, a maniacal giggle that Nate believed fit her fairly well.

"Well, the look certainly fits," he smiled a little. 'Does she know about the whole merging part?'

'No, not yet, I've only just told her the truth about why we're part machine,' she sounded drained. 'It didn't take as much convincing as I thought...she was suspicious about the original story.'

"Um, are two, like, having a conversation or something?" Mandy piped up.

"Yes, sorry," he walked to the bed and sat down next to her, placing his hand on her head. "Don't worry, we'll be heading back in a couple of days. We'll finish what we started then."

"What are we doing with the Carters?"

"They'll be in the saferoom that Devin has in the basement, I'm not taking chances that WOOHP will try to abduct them again and use them as shields."

"Who're they?" Mandy asked.

"People that I owe quite a bit to," Nate pushed a lock of hair behind his ear.

Mandy was satisfied with that answer, learning from Monica not to press subjects like that...especially with him. She continued to sit on the bed, his hand on her head, looking thoughtfully out the window; Monica simply observed, knowing what he was thinking. Slowly he removed his hand and stood up, leaving Mandy feeling somewhat downcast, the action had reminded her of when her father would place his hand on her head.

"Don't worry Mandy, all will be right very soon," he said before he left the two of them again.

The roof access door opened and he stepped out, there she was.

Grace stood on the roof, looking up at the moon, still in her work clothes; she had been there a while. Upon hearing the footsteps behind her, she whirled around, loosing three throwing knives and two stilettos. Nate nimbly dodged them, rushing forward letting the cable release from his forearm, whipping it around to ensnare her.

"So, it was you," he disconnected the cable from his arm, allowing him movement. "You told him I was here, and about the Carters, why?"

"Because," she sniffed, "I couldn't stop myself."

"What do you mean?" he made a quick scan, finding what he missed last time. "A compliance chip?"

"Yeah-" sniffle "-I didn't want to, but I didn't have a choice."

He moved closer to her, noting the position of the ship, deep within her ribcage, connected to her brain from there. His finger shifted and changed into a needle, he had just the thing. The needle's end opened wide and out came a small robot, skittering on six legs. Not waiting for an order it burrowed it's way into her partially exposed sternum, cauterizing the wound as it did.

"This should only take a minute."

Back at WOOHP a tech throws off the sizzling helmet, "FUCK!"

"What is it?" Jerry asked, looking over from the console that displayed Grace's bio-signs, which now went blank. "I see."

"He sent a feedback surge, fried the helmet," the man wiped his brow, having almost had his brain cooked.

"Hm, well, then I guess your job here is done as well," the head of WOOHP said as he turned and pulled a gun, shooting the tech. He pressed a button on the console, "I'm going to need a clean up team in here."

"That should do it," he said as the robot made its way back out.

"Thanks," she said as she took a breath. "I never want to not be in control of my own body ever again."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd let Sam control you," he smirked, "let her do dirty things."

"Shut up!" she screamed and punched him the arm...that was what she was thinking. "What about that Alex chick, hm, would you let her do those things to you."

"Well, this body is fully functional, and anatomically correct," he hummed a little, "but no."

He released the cable and looked up at the moon, she followed his gaze, rubbing her arms where the cold metal had been. She looked back at him, wanting to apologize for what she had done, but it was pointless, he understood better than anyone the feeling of being powerless to stop his body.

"So...hot little bod on that Alex," she blurted, not knowing anything else to say. "Why haven't you done anything about that?"

"You know me, Gracie," he looked down. "I'm shy."

TBC

Yeah, yeah, long wait, I know...I've had the worst case of writer's block, mainly due to the fact that I have very little access to new music, but now I've got this little program called limewire, in which case I have almost limitless access to such things. Anyway, one or two more chapters left, depends on if I want to ramble or just get it over with...you choose. Oh, and special guest appearance by anyone who can tell me what "fully functional and anatomically correct" is from; there are two sources, so just give it a shot.