"You're saying it was your friend who did this?" asked the prisoner.
"It wasn't him. I mean it was but he wasn't his normal self." answered Natalya as they walked through the carnage that Jekyll's alter-ego had created, neither Jekyll nor his alter ego were to be seen anywhere.
"If you don't work for the League, then who do you work for?"
"Against it."
"Why?"
"It's complicated."
"I'm sure it is, how else would you end up in an underground Demon Research Facility talking with a Vampire?"
"You're a Vampire?"
"Of course I am, what did you think when you saw my pearly whites?"
They kept walking on silently, attempting not to step on anything. Then suddenly, a demon's carcass came back to life. It hissed like a snake and made Natalya flinch. The prisoner aimed his sword at the Demon's neck.
"Where did the big bad go?" asked the prisoner.
The Demon answered in some obscure language. The prisoner severed his head, putting him out of his misery.
"What did he say?" asked Natalya.
"I'm not entirely sure, but I think he said he changed back and escaped through the watermelon."
"He escaped through a watermelon!"
"I said I wasn't sure."
The two walked on through the doors that hid the way out. They saw a few guards brutally killed as they walked through the dark corridor. Eventually they climbed a staircase that lead to the outside where the sun was just sinking beyond the horizon. In grass clearing, Jekyll lay on the ground, his clothes in shreds and obviously in pain.
"There he is." said the Prisoner, "Well, Minsk. It's been a pleasure, goodbye."
"You can't leave us like this!"
"Oh, but I can. And I am."
"You have to help us get a car or something." said Natalya.
"Look, Minsk. The deal was you spring me out and I'd lead you out. Nobody said I'd have to carry your boyfriend or -"
"He is NOT my boyfriend!"
With a cry, Jekyll suddenly sat up.
"Fucking Hell!" cursed the Prisoner.
"Oh my Friggin' Head!" Jekyll grunted as he rubbed his temple.
"Jekyll. Are you alright?"
"I'll survive." said Jekyll as he stood up with difficulty, "Who are you?" he asked.
"I used to be locked up in there, since 1998." said the Prisoner.
"What's your name?"
"Judas." said the Prisoner with some hesitation.
"THE Judas?"
"No, silly! Some other Judas. Judas Kemp to be precise. Also known as Judas Baboon and more commonly as Jude Kemp."
"I'm sorry, it's just meeting Judas Iscariot isn't unlikely to happen for me, I'm that kind og guy, really."
"I bet you are. Jekyll, was it?"
"Yes, this is Natalya."
"Alright, I don't think any of us will be able to make it back to the city on our own. So, for the time being, why don't we stick together?"
They started walking to a nearby highway.
"You said you were locked up for Eight years?" asked Jekyll.
"Yes. And let me tell you something, Jekyll. I certainly want, nay, I need a warm shower, a decent meal, some fresh clothes and a one night stand." said Judas then turned to look at Natalya and continued with a suggestive grin, "Care to supply any of the above?"
Natalya slapped him across the face.
"I guess not."
---------------------------
Skinner watched from a distance, still inside his car while a black car pulled up by the gate.
Intrigued, Skinner raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes and looked at the man walking out of the car. It was Miguel Bain, the Spanish Assassin.
"Fuck." cursed Skinner, he was informed that all Operatives would remain abroad for a while, but it seems the Hit man had finished his assignment rather abruptly. Skinner started the car and drove off.
---------------------------
Judas stepped out of the shower, his hair cut to neck-length and his beard shaved off, leaving only a somewhat ugly moustache. Jekyll was sitting at the bed in a room that he had got for Judas back at the hotel.
"I brought you some clothes." said Jekyll as he tossed the vampire a plastic bag filled with some clothes.
"Thanks, Squire."
To Jekyll's resentment, Judas preceded to get dressed in front of him without an ounce of shame.
"Say, Jekyll. Where do you go from here?" asked Judas.
"London, my work here is done. You?"
"I haven't figured it out yet. Wherever my Vendetta takes me."
Room service arrived with an Order of spiced ribs which Judas started to eat in a rapid speed.
"Out of curiosity," started Jekyll, "But aren't vampires supposed to be unable to eat food?"
"Different strokes, Governor. Other vampires can fly, survive in sunlight and turn into bats but are harmed by holy water and religious paraphanilia and can only taste blood. My kind on the other hand can taste spices and meat. Our strengths are different as well."
"How so?"
"We're strong but only in comparison with humans, we're generally faster than other vampires. We can cling to walls."
"And by "We" you mean who?"
"My tribe," said Judas, "The not-so-proud Kemerpies hailing from god-knows-where but we had lived in the Australian outback for years. There are about one hundred and twelve vampiric clans and tribes, you know."
"And how did you end up in prison?"
"There used to a civil way during the nineties between Vampire Clans. Believe it or not, our side nearly won, through cheating and treachery of course but we nearly won nonetheless. Then along comes these two Vampires, Kakistos and Mr. Trick; they called themselves. The first was the oldest living vampire and the second was his right hand man, who in reality had all the brains."
"Trick; you said?"
"Yeah. Anyway, they had the League on their side at the time and the two of them managed to exterminate my entire clan, they left me alive to grant to the League to keep in their zoo."
"So, when you say Vendetta you mean against... ?"
"Kakistos and Mr. Trick. I would go after the as well League if I could or if I was off the rocker."
Jekyll chuckled.
"What's so funny?" asked Judas.
"What would say if I offered you a chance for revenge against all your enemies, and six people with equally determined minds to help you?"
"What would I have to do?"
"Join us in London."
-------------------------
McGregor had finally collected all he had came for, and it was time to make a hasty escape.
He walked down the stairs, finally reaching the ground level, he headed to a back area where Employees were known to step out for cigarettes. From there he could escape once he got there, if no one was looking, which wasn't the case.
Two techniciens were sitting, they offered him a slight smile as he took out a cigarette and lit it with his lighter-camera. He stood smoking and waiting for the
They were having a conversation, and he was naturally eavesdropping He heard mention of 'the Eye' and how it had needed manitenance. Their cigarettes were soon done and they headed back in.
It was too tempting, to get some intelligence on the All-Seeing-Eye supercomputer was too much to resist.
He silently followed them, but soon found Sofie Fatale blocking his way.
"Miss Fatale," he said, playing coy.
"Who do you work for?"
Somehow, his cover was blown, and he had no idea how.
"Mr. Wheeler had an aversion to smoking, that's something you should have known."
McGregor suddenly realized that four guards were surrounding him, each armed with a submachine gun.
"Who do you fork for?"
"I'm a Shadow, you Evil Wench."
McGregor shoved Fatale into on of the guards, the punched another in the jaw and tore his gun away, shooting the third then the fourth before anyone had the chance to react. He slammed the gun into the second guard's face then retreated back to the exit as Fatale took hold of a guard's gun and fired at him to no avail.
--------------------------
Skinner got out of the car to scold the man who had collided with his car.
"Who the guck taught you to drive, Ray Charles?" said the man.
"What are you talking about you little wanker, you were on the wrong lane!" retorted Skinner.
The argument went on for a minute before Skinner heard gunfire in the distance. So he got back into his car and yelled at the man,
"Move your car, I won't press charges."
"Of course you're not, because it's your fault!"
The man was clearly not going to let go, so Skinner put the car on reverse and hit the gas, after retreating for about twenty meters, he shifted back into drive and floored the gas, and rammed the other man's car to make way for himself.
--------------------------
McGregor struggled to keep from passing out as several years of over eating had, drinking, smoking and stressful living had taken their tole, his arteries were sounding their objections at the worst time possible. He knew right there that he couldn't escape.
A piercing pain ripped his arm, he knew that he was hit by a bullet, But he kept moving till he reached a guarded chained gate, he shot the guard and padlock and kicjed the gate open, he was now inches away from his escape.
Skinner's car came screeching to a halt by the gate, McGregor opened the door and was about to get in, when multiple gunshots were heard in the distance, and dozens of bullets plunged into McGregor's back, he collapsed into the seat and closed the door behind him.
Skinner kicked the gas pedal down and the wrecked car bolted forward, but caught a glimpse of Bain holding a machine gun and dropping it for some reason in the distance. He didn't know what had become of McGregor until he saw the pool of blood in the bottom of the passenger's side of the car.
"Bloody Hell!" Skinner mumbled as he realized how terrible the situation was.
McGregor coughed up a mouthful of blood as he searched for something.
"Oh no," said McGregor with a gurgled voice, "I... I lost the lighter."
"Fuck the lighter!" cursed the Skinner as he hit the brakes due to heavy traffic, he honked his horn aggressively and yelled obscenities out the window, "Hang on. Michael, I'll get you to a hospital."
"I don't think I'll make it." said McGregor weakly.
"Hang in there for a little while, there's a hospital two minutes away from here. Stay alive."
McGregor removed the prosthetics revealing his real face.
"It's my fault really, I should have fixed my body up after that doctor botched my surgery, Or at least shot the doctor. Hheh heh heheh. Shite. I used to be a real piece of work, I could've shot them all and been back at the house before you could say: Haggis."
Skinner hit the horn continuously till everyone else honked back.
"McGregor, you fat Bastard! Don't you dare die on me!
"Sorry about all this, Sonny Jim. But I think I will."
"Fuck you, you Scottish…!" yelled Skinner as tears started to stream down his cheeks, "Hang on!"
"Goodbye, Mate." said the Fat Bastard as raised his thick open hand, Skinner reluctantly clutched it as McGregor's head fell to the side.
Skinner's sobbed for seconds as he watched his Friend fall, he had an overwhelming desire to go home, pick up all the guns he could carry and return to the League's headquarter to raise some hell. It was happening all over again, all his friends were going to die.
Knowing it was all futile, Skinner decided to abandon the car and McGregor inside it. So he managed to get into a dark ally and hide the car, and just as he was opening the door to leave, he heard the voice,
"Sonny..."
Slowly, he turned to see McGregor. A chill went through his spine as he saw the spy looking straight at him with all the pride in the world, his mouth dripping with blood.
"You can't let them win!" he said through gritted teeth,
"You just can't, do you understand me, you little bastard? You... CAN'T!"