Gary was still floating on sunshine following his date with Kim. He was up early. The sun had barely cracked the horizon as he put in a long run. He felt full of energy. On the back side of the compound, while skirting the woods near the fence he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He immediately doved for cover, then survailled the area. Something large and green was disappearing into the deeper woods. Triana's walking head of Broccoli? he wondered, jumped up and chased after it but after a couple minutes he had to admit that he had lost the trail. He made a mental note to mention this to the doctor - again. Was this one of the Doctor's experiments escaped from where ever he was keeping it. Or was it something else.

The rest of his run was uneventful. He was dismayed to see the extent of damage from yesterday's attack by the shooter with the railgun. There was going to be a lot of repair work done there and he knew who was going to be doing all that work. A henchmen's life was full of woe - even an ex-henchman's!

After a shower Gary wandered over to the Ventures residence for breakfast. Naturally no one else was up. He fiddled with the coffee maker but couldn't get the sine waves to synch. There was a ten second strobe that he didn't like. The coffee, though, seemed brisk, caffeinated, and not too harsh on the stomach.

Rummaging through the refrigerator he found some seemingly wholesome bacon in the freezer, eggs in the refrigerator and processed cheese-like product in one of the cupboards. OK - omelets. He put the bacon to thaw in a shallow pan filled with warm water while he scoured the skillet that had been left in the sink since the day before. It struck him that what the Ventures needed wasn't so much a bodyguard as a nanny or housekeeper. Maybe one of those cute Swedish au pairs with a Bohemian sense to nudity...

He was just beginning to lay the fried bacon out on some paper towels to drain when Hank wandered into the kitchen. He was blinking sleepy eyes as he grabbed one of the strips without asking.

Gary was tempted to swat his hand with the hot spatula but the day was too grand for pettiness.

"Hi, Gary," Hank yawned. "Whatcha cooking?"

"Omelets. What one?"

"Would I!"

"Then set the table. What's the ETA on your brother?"

"Dean! He kept me up half the night working on his book. tap-tap-tap-tap. I'd rather have a dentist fill a cavity than listen to that racket."

"I know the feeling. Of course the Guild dentist wasn't licensed and had a novel approach to pain management."

Hank paused, his hands full of plates. "Gary. Why do I know what it feels like to have a cavity filled when I don't have any fillings in my mouth." He opened his mouth and pulled back his lips to show what he meant.

Gary blanched and thought swiftly. Oh how he wished Dr. Venture was stuck answering these questions. "Vivid imagination I guess. You probably watched the movie, Marathon Man, on TV at some point. That kind of puts people off dentists."

"Anyway, I'm going to have my revenge," Hank gloated as he spread the plates around the table. "I'm writing my own tell-all book. It's going to be called 'My Brother - The Wuss'. Clever title, huh?"

"It could use some work." Gary had a sinking feeling that he would never be able to nip this book writing business.

"Mommy?"

"No, Dean, it's just me," Gary said as the other Venture boy came into the kitchen. He was wearing over-sized boxers and a T-shirt from the Rusty Venture Summer Camp project. Lime green with "Have a Scientastic Day!" written on it in purple. Dr. V's color sense clearly was in need of help.

"I dreamed about my mother last night."

"When was that, nerd? You keep me up all night!" Hank said. "Forks or spoons" he asked Gary, holding both in his hand.

"Forks. What was your dream about?" Gary worried that Dean might be remembering more of his time inside the clone chamber.

"She was short, and soft, sweet smelling with long blonde hair that hung over one eye. And she wore a trench coat." Dean sounded confused as he recalled his dream.

"That sounds more like Lauren Bacall mixed in with Humphrey Bogart. You sure you weren't watching "The Big Sleep" last night?"

"No."

"What did she do?"

"She just held me and told me that everything was all right."

"I like you mom better then mine. Mine took fifty bucks not to press charges after the Monarch kidnaped me. She should have held out for at least five grand." Gary carried the skillet over to the table and cut his first omelet in two and slide halves onto Hank and Dean's plates. He started making another omelet for himself.

"Gary, could you take me into town today," Dean asked.

"What's up?"

"Hot date with Gloria?" Hank leered. Gloria was the Giant Boy Detective fan Dean had meet recently.

"No. I want to go to the library." He took a bite of omelet. "I want to use their computers to research some stuff. Pop's blocked all sites on the Internet that contains information about the Ventures on our computers at home. I need to use the library's computer to research our family tree."

"I'm sure your father had good reason for doing that," Gary replied, hoping to discourage Dean .

"He says its all about security and not giving our enemies information that could let them attack us, but that's bogus. I'm not giving out family secrets, I'm just trying to read the same information all our enemies already can read. I don't know why he's so upset about my writing a book. I'd think he's be happy I was making something of myself."

"You know, I wrote a tell-all book," Gary began. "about the Monarch. That didn't go as well as I expected. If I hadn't published it under a pseudonym I wouldn't be here now to tell you about it. And if the Monarch ever finds out who wrote that book... Well, I guess that would be two reasons why he'd want me dead."

"Is the other because you kissed Dr. Mrs. The Monarch?" Hank asked, his mouth full of egg.

"Three. That would be three reasons he would want me dead. The other reason was for quitting his organization. The Monarch apparently considers resignation on par with treason." he finished up. "Hank, did you want to go to the library in town today?"

"Nah. It's just full of books."

"There might be some cute girls there."

"You mean old librarians!"

Gary didn't like letting the boys separate. It made it hard to protect both of them but he figured there wasn't much that could get at Hank on the compound.

"Triana was telling me about something called Google Docs," Dean said, a fork poised before his mouth, "which would let me write stuff and store it on a cloud or something. And that I'd have to have my book in electronic format, anyway, to sell it. Do you know anything about it?"

"No. I pretty much limit my Internet browsing to porn."

"Aren't you ashamed of yourself," Triana drifted into the kitchen. She was wearing sweat pants and a T under her father's old robe.

"Every day," Gary answered, turning back to the eggs to hide his blushing. "I suppose you want something as well? Why is it that my cooking can raising everyone but Dr. Venture? I'm taking Dean into town to use the library, want to come along?"

"Yeah, their old man has been hogging the computer so Dean has to work on his manuscript using that old typewriter. And then pages keep turning up missing. I think Dr. Venture is trying to sabotage Dean's biography." Triana got out a plate and silverware and set herself a place at the table. She finished off the bacon. "I told him he could use Goggle Docs and then his father couldn't read what he's written until its published."

Gary told the boys to meet him at the Hanger at 10 AM and he'd take them to the library. When the time came he was surprised to see Hank along with Dean and Triana. Hank had decided to come so he could visit a hobby shop near by and look at some of their plastic dinosaur models. Triana was going to show Dean how to use Google Docs and help with his on-line searches. Gary hoped the library subscribed to Villainous Times, a celebrity magazine for super-villains and super-scientists. It would give him something to read while the others were doing their thing.

Triana hopped into the back seat with Hank and Dean, much to Gary's surprise, especially after he had warned her about possible radiation leaking from the nuclear pile powering the X-13. She and Dean were pouring over the pages he had written the night before. And talking in quiet but excited tones about them. Triana was so absorbed in Dean's manuscript that she didn't even notice when he lifted his arm and laid on across the back of the seat. She just scooted in closer so they could share the pages easier. Gary just raised his eyebrows and concentrated on driving.

Still, when they got to the library and Gary had found a place to park the behemoth of a car, he called her back as the boys entered the building.

"I've been thinking," he began."

"Always a dangerous precedent," she quipped.

"I've been thinking," he began again, "that there may be something to what your friend, the Mast - your father's friend, The Master, had said."

"That I should learn to be a magic-user?"

"No, that if you stay around here you will marry Dean."

"Don't be ridiculous. I already told you, there is no way I would ever marry Dean." She told him angrily.

"He had his arm around you on the way to town."

"No he didn't."

"I saw it in the rear view mirror. He first put it along the back of the seat, then later let it slip down and touch your arm."

"Why does that thing even have a rear view mirror. It's not like you can see anything though that nuclear pile in the trunk." She said, crossing her arms defensively. "Besides, what's it to you?"

"Nothing. You seem to make Dean happy. And when Dean's happy, then I'm happy. But does Dean make you happy, that's the question? As a former henchman I know something of the feeling of doing something you don't enjoy. And, maybe, it's because I've been thinking about relationships a lot lately. My girlfriend..."

"Gary, you go to that strip club every night in Brock's car. I don't know who you see in there but it can't be the foundation of a relationship." She turned to walked away.

"Milady and I are very serious about each other, and she's not a stripper. Look, I'm just saying - this Master of yours said that if you continued to hang around the Ventures you'd end up married to Dean. When you came back last week you were all "keep away from me, Dean" and today you let him place his arm around you. I think ol' Scratch, or whatever he is, is on to something. The Ventures are like a vacuum leak in the universe. The closer you get to them the more you'll be sucked into their - universe."

"Won't. Happen!" Triana declared, speaking the two words like individual sentences.

"Fine." Gary considered for a moment what else he might say but concluded that Triana had stopped listening to him. And besides why was he trying to manage her life. She was an adult and he had warned her. Anything else was up to her.

She had walked away maybe ten feet when he asked, "anything I can get for you while we're in town? Cigarettes..."

Triana stopped, and walked back to the beefy henchman. In a resigned voice she said, "nicoderm patches. I realized last night that I was down to one packet of cigs. I'd gone through the whole carton you got for me in a week. I'm not going to be a slave to tobacco. There, does that make you happy?"

"You had started smelling like an ash tray but I wasn't going to mention it." Gary had been leaning against the X-13. Now he pushed himself off and said. "I got a couple small errands. Tell the boys I should be back in an hour."

Nothing beats one's first paycheck, especially for someone living on pocket lint for a week. Gary had found an envelope in the day's mail addressed to him from OSI. Inside was his first paycheck. How he happily stood in the slow moving line at the bank, knowing that he'd soon be rolling in some dough.

"Gary, we have to talk," a deep, manly voice spoke from behind him.

He swirled around. "You!" He sneered at the woman standing in line behind him. She was of average height, slender, dressed in a pink Chanal dress with a tiny pillbox hat stuck on her head. Over-sized sunglasses obscured her face. "What are you doing here? Are you following me?"

"Gary, Gary. I'm here for the same reason you are - cashing a check. It's payday at the Cocoon and I'm picking up money for the henchmen." She waved a check in front of him. It was a large, business class check, over-printed with hundreds of monarch butterflies. Monarch Enterprises was embossed in the corner along with a Cayman Islands post office box number. He even caught the size of the check and dividing by the number of henchmen the Monarch normally kept around realized that his old employer was shorting his men - again.

"You're dead to me," he said, turning to face forward.

"The corpse looks pretty lively if you ask me," Dr. Girlfriend persisted.

"That can be arranged."

"Come on, Gary, it was just a joke. And I had to go along to keep the Monarch from killing you."

"I'd like to see him try." Gary pouted. "If you'll excuse me, I have to open a bank account." The cashier gave him some forms to fill out.

Meanwhile Dr. Mrs. The Monarch went to another window and collect her payroll. This involved counting out a lot of bills and a couple rolls of coins. She tucked the money inside a purse. The purse was slung from a long strap which she hung from her shoulder. It was as if she had never heard MacGruff, the Crime dog lecture about purse-snatchers.

She found herself once again behind the beefy ex-henchman as they were leaving the building.

"Gary, things are not what they seem. If you would just give me a minute I'll explain everything."

She lead the way to a small café a block from the bank. There were tables outside in the morning sun., They took one and when a waitress came around Gary ordered a sticky bun and hot cocoa while Dr. Mrs. The Monarch ordered a cup of coffee, black. When Gary got his order he tore the bun into small pieces and dipped them in the cocoa. He slurped in the soaking bread noisily.

"Gary I've been thinking about what you said that other night..."

"When we kissed."

"When you kissed me," she corrected. "It takes a lot of nerve to open your heart like that..."

"While sitting on top The Monarch," you mean.

"That was awkward, but, no, I mean opening up your heart to me at all." She took off her sunglasses and looked Gary directly in the eyes. Liars aren't supposed to be able to look at other people right in the eyes but Gary had noticed that the best liars, in fact, were very good about looking at people straight in the eyes, without flinching, while telling the biggest lies. So he hardened his heart from her look of sincerity.

"We can smoke out here, can't we?" she asked.

"The ash trays would say yes," Gary told her. "Doesn't the Monarch let you smoke in the Cocoon anymore."

"Sadly, no. He gets a better rate on the Guild's medical plan if he makes the Cocoon a smoke-free environment. As if any of us are going to live long enough to die of lung cancer." She reached inside her purse to bring out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Gary noticed a small, fat snake coiled up around the wad of bills in her purse.

"Is that a Viet Namese two-step viper?"

She paused to light up and nearly inhaled the cigarette with a single drag. "Thran is a dear pet. And does a much better job of protecting the Monarch's money than a phalanx of henchmen. No one has ever lived to steal the Monarch's money."

"How do you keep him quiet?"

"Professional secret."

"Spit tobacco juice up his nose? 'Cause I've heard that hypnotizes them until a shock wakes them up."

"We can't keep anything from you, Gary. That's why I want you to come back to the Cocoon."

"I thought the Monarch was trying to kill me."

"No, that was just a misunderstanding." Dr. Girlfriend fished out another cigarette from her packet and lit it off the end of the first. "The truth is, the Cocoon hasn't been the same without you. We promoted Number 7 to take your place but he hasn't been working out. He's good with the paperwork and stuff but discipline..." She took another puff. "He's too soft hearted. Already I can see the henchmen are getting fat and lazy. We need you, Gary, You had the drive to make the Cocoon great. With you back at the Cocoon we could do great things, things beyond just Arching Dr. Venture, maybe even - world conquest!

"Besides," she paused. "I can control the Monarch. He's a regular pussycat in my hands. He'll never ever bother you."

"That didn't work out so well for number 130."

"That? That happened before I even knew what he was planning. Believe me if I had known he intended to kill 130 I would have stopped him." Dr. Mrs. The Monarch was looking at him directly in the eyes again. She looked so sincere and honest. She looked incredibly kissable.

"Why the old Dr. Girlfriend costume? Afraid to show your boobies to the world?" Gary asked, trying to be as hateful as he could. He could feel himself being lured into her offer.

"There's a time and place for everything. This wasn't the time for being Dr. Mrs. The Monarch."

"And you've talked this over with The Monarch. He's on board with my coming back."

"I'll smooth everything out before you get there. I don't want to see you get hurt," she said.

"You mean by anyone other than The Monarch."

"No, not even by him. Especially not by him." She toyed with her cigarette for a moment, stubbed it out and light up another one. "Gary," she finally began, "I think about what you said back there all the time. You touched me in ways I never thought I'd be touched..."

"On the lips?" Gary smirked.

"Please, I'm trying to be serious here. This isn't easy for me. - No one has ever just said they loved me before. Usually they want something else as well.

"And you're good with that-"

"Yes, because usually what they want is what I want as well - power, respect, the ability to reshape the world.

"We both know you're not leaving The Monarch so why are you telling me this?"

"No one has ever loved me for just myself. Gary, I feel conflicted about this. I - Look, The Monarch is going to have some henchmen outside the "Nightin ales" tonight, waiting for you. Don't go there tonight. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Maybe I want to."

"Gary, you can't beat them all."

"Sure I can. I trained them. I know all their weaknesses."

She sighed, issuing a long stream of smoke from her nose. "Gary, please. You can't beat The Monarch at this. There's a little piece of my heart that loves you back. It'll break if you got killed pointlessly like this."

"As opposed to the large piece of my heart that you broke when you laughed in my face." he got up to storm off, but she laid a hand on his and held him back. She looked at him pleadingly, then sighed again and snubbed out her cigarette. She put on her sunglasses and stood up. "I had hoped we could stay as friends. Well... She stretched up and kissed him on the lips. "That was for the friends we were. The next time we meet it will be as enemies." She turned as rapidly walked away.

Gary considered for a moment whether she had been wearing poisoned lipstick. He left money enough for their meal and walked off in the other direction. His thoughts were confused. Had Dr. Girlfriend been hitting on him? Had her talk about loving him meant he had a chance of getting her in the sack? Or did it just mean she'd warn him of plots by the Monarch to kill him? Was there a chance for him and Dr. Girlfriend? Did he really want girlfriend who had tried to kill him?

He was just leaving with his purchases when his OSI cellphone vibrated. It was a message from 57. He had snuck Gary's possessions out of the Cocoon, he said, and wondered where to meet to hand them over. What a stroke of luck, Gary thought, since he was already in town. He texted a convenient location. 57 said he needed some place more private and they agreed on the alley behind the library. If no one ever came to a library, even fewer people hung around the back of one.

Gary walked a few blocks to the hard ware store and bought some rope and bungee cords and a couple of plastic tarps. When you build a nuclear reactor into the back of a car it just doesn't leave a lot of room for luggage. True, there was storage in the front, like in the old VW Beetles, but like the old Beetles, space was small and poorly designed. He'd have to strap most of his gear on the roof or to the fins.

He took a quick peak inside the library, since 57 said he wouldn't be there for an hour. Dean and Triana were at computers. Triana seemed to be transcribing Deans typewritten pages from the day before while Dean was doing Internet searches and making notes. Hank was back from the hobby shop with a large bag of goodies at his feet. He was reading a gaming magazine, or at least looking at the pictures. There were only a few other people in the library, all of them busy at other stuff. None of them watching the Ventures. Gary felt good about this. He went back outside and sat on the steps. He didn't want to intrude on their quiet time. It was good for the boys to be on their own and not have someone to always fall back on when things got tough or confusing.

After a while sitting virtuously outside got boring and he went inside and looked for a copy of Villainous Times. They were kept behind the Librarian's counter since they were regarded as an immoral influence on children. Lady Pain was on the cover, looking pale in her black corset, stockings and garter belt. She was holding a croup in her hand and looked like she knew which end was which. According to the article she was a rising star in the villainy firmament. Gary decided that her star wasn't the only thing rising.

Inside was an article on the struggle with the Monstroso organization since the disappearance and presumed death of the man mountain. Brock Samson had reported that he and Molotov Cocktease had fallen to their deaths in one of the canyons near the Venture Compound. Gary remembered something Ghengis Khan was supposed to have said. Something about seeing their bodies, or was it the lamentations of 'der wivven'? No, that was Conan the Barbarian. Whatever. According to the article the company's Chief Financial Officer had declared control of the criminal operation, renaming himself The Bankster. Only to have the Chief Operations Office mount a counterclaim under his new name of The Shyster. Law suites were flying regarding the legitimate portion of Monstroso's operation but the real battle was over his covert Guild operations. That depended on the hearts and souls of the henchmen running those operations. Both the Bankster and the Shyster were vying for the minion's loyalty. Judging from the lameness of the two men's names Gary suspected that when the dust cleared some little guy from the mail-room will be discovered to have stuck shivs in the backs of everyone else and become the new Monstroso.

Gary had something of a personal interest in Monstroso since he had been instrumental in helping Bock Samson to foil a plot to take over both Venture Industries and the Monarch's own financial holdings. It was the first time Brock had treated him as an equal, or at least someone close enough to being an equal. It was a good feeling.

He looked at his watch and saw that number 57 should be along anytime now. Gary returned the magazine to the desk and went outside to wait. It wasn't long before 57 came around the corner and waved at him.

"Did you get everything?" Gary asked

"Oh, yeah. It was a piece of cake. Nobody had been in your room since you left. I've got it all bundled up in a van back in the alley." He lead the way around the side of the library to the alley running behind it. A row of stores were on the other side of the alley, mostly two stories high, old rowfronts with apartments over the stories. Dumpsters were strung out along the block. But Gary didn't see those. All he saw was the absence of a van and the presence of four armed henchmen with dart guns pointed at him.

"You bastard." he said evenly. There wasn't any point to recriminations, complaints about how long they'd known each other and pleas for mercy. This was the Guild of Calamitous Intent after all. Betrayal wasn't merely accepted it was almost expected. Gary had looked into 57's eyes and thought he had seen an honest man and a friend. So he had taken a gamble. He'd lost. The question before him wasn't the unfairness of it all but - what would Brock do?

Brock would throw something, most likely his freaking huge knife. Gary didn't have a knife. What did he have? Well, he had 57. And with that Gary grabbed the henchman by the arm and seat of the pants hoisted him into the air and flung him at the other henchmen. At the same time Gary dropped to the pavement and rolled to the scant shelter of one of the dumpsters.

He could hear the puff-puff-puff of the dart guns firing but didn't feel any pricking so he assumed none of the anesthetic dart had hit him. But he couldn't stay here. And he didn't have any kind of weapon. He was going to have to reconsider that unarmed policy if he ever got out of this alive.

Weapon, weapon, he was thinking as he looked around. The four henchmen had been knocked down by 57's fall and were scrambling to their feet. A couple darts stood out of 57 so he wasn't going to be part of the action for a while. But hanging from his belt, not ten feet from Gary was 57's own dart gun. A weapon!

Gary felt around in the dirt where he lay looking for something to throw. He found a chunk of asphalt broke off from a pothole in the alley and washed up over time to the brick wall on the opposite the library. Just the thing.

Gary tossed it long, but not high down the alley. It's clatter as it rolled away from the henchmen pulled their attention off Gary long enough for him to leap from the ground to a groaning 57, rip the dart gun from its anchoring and pop it's load of darts into the confused henchmen.

He got up and threw the empty dart gun away and walked over to the snoring henchmen. He took one of their guns just in case but they all had been hit multiple times. They would be out for hours. He walked back to 57, rolled him over, and considered what to do with the traitor. There were several ways to use the supposedly non-lethal dart gun to kill. A dart in the eye would penetrate straight to the brain, for instance. Death seemed like the appropriate punishment for double-crossing him but Gary had never been big on killing people. He had, of course, but mostly he tried avoiding doing so.

He was still deciding what to do when a bullet sang past his head. He dropped to the ground and pulled 57's body partly over him. He'd barely moved him when 57 jerked a couple times and with a groan stopped breathing. Vaguely Gary heard the gunshots in the background.

Shit! A backup squad! he thought. Normally the Monarch wasn't this thorough in going after people.

Keeping 57's body sheltering him Gary started watching the roof-line of the building across the alley from the library. Soon a henchman stood up with a shiny, nickel-plated .45 automatic. He took his time aiming at Gary. Time enough to Gary to snap off a shot of his own. The hand cannon flew out of nerveless fingers as it exploded. The henchman dropping to the roof with a dart in his eye.

Gary rolled out from under 57 and scooted next to the brick wall. The shooter - if there were any more - would have a hard time getting a bead on Gary here.

He waited for any other members of the back-up team to make their move. A clatter of feet from the end of the alley catch his attention. He snuck a quick glance in that direction and spotted Hank, Dean and Triana standing out in the open at the foot of the alley.

"Gary are you all right?" Triana unwisely shouted.

A henchman popped up from the rooftop and shot at her. Gary nailed him in the cheek. Triana fainted.

"Get in the car!" Gary shouted. "Move! Move!"

"You've got the keys," Hank shouted back.

Shit! Gary dug in his pocket until he found them and tossed them down the alley. He turned back to the roofline just in time to see another shooter stand up. Gary's snapshot missed entirely but the man dropped out of sign without firing so that was a plus.

He looked to see Hank scoop up the keys and with Dean supporting Triana run off to the X-13. He gave them a minute to get to and into the car then, firing the last of the darts in the gun, took off down the alley after them. A couple shots splanged around his feet but the remaining shooter either wasn't very good with a gun or too distracted by the possibility that Gary had more darts left to fire.

Hank was still trying to figure out the controls of the X-13 when Gary doved into it. He pushed the younger man aside and shifted the car into drive. All three kids were in the front seat, which was kind of crowded.

"Back seat! Everybody!" he barked and half pushed Hank over the backrest into the back. Dean tried to push Triana after Hank but the girl was too woozy and shaking with shock to move. "Dean, Go!" Gary told him and he left the girl leaning against the side door post as he scrambled into the back seat.

"What's going on?" Hank asked as Gary drove the X-13 out of the parking lot into traffic. "Are we going to leave all my models in the library?"

"Forget about the toys," Gary snapped. "Can you find any weapons in this thing? I can't imagine your grandfather building an atomic car without a few lethal weapons."

But there were none to be found.

The massive vehicle accelerated slowly but steadily as they went down the road. They were coming up to a stoplight when Gary saw the Monarchmobile in the rearview mirror. "Damn," he swore. "A third team! he must have really wanted me this time!"

Gary downshifted and stepped on the accelerator. The car leaped forward, right through the red light. Honking cars split left and right around the pink leviathan. The Monarchmobile was caught in the traffic jam. That would slow them down for a minute, but the X-13 drove like a truck,. It wouldn't take long for the henchmen to catch up with them.

"Triana! Triana!" Gary called loudly to the still dazed girl. "I need your help right now. You can be sick later. OK?"

"They shot at me!" she said, disregarding Gary's comments. "They shot at me!"

"Welcome to the world of Big Time Science. Now you know what Dean's life has been like," Gary told her, "but I need your help right now! There's a GPS unit in the glovebox. Get it out and try to find the fastest route to a freeway. I think US-757 runs along here somewhere. Can you do that?"

Gary took a corner on four of the car's eight wheels, then a turn in the opposite direction. Triana was first thrown against him and then the door. The boys tumbled in the back as well.

"Buckle up!" he told them. "This is going to be hairy."

Triana had fished the GPS out of the glovebox and was staring at it stupidly as she tried to figure out the controls. Gary had found the unit in the guard shack and had put it in the car on the off chance he'd need it. Pre-planning. It had paid off. Hank was leaning over the seat rest offering suggestions while Dean was huddled in the back seat apparently going catatonic.

"Why are we going on the freeway?" Hank wanted to know. "This thing drives like a barge. The other car will catch up with us in no time.

Gary braked hard as he took another corner. "This thing accelerates slow but the speedometer it mapped out to 180 miles per hour. I'm assuming that's because it can go that fast once it has a chance to accelerate. The Monarchmobile tops out at 120. Given a straight run we'll leave them in our dust."

"Monarchmobile?" Triana echoed. "What kind of dopey name is - oh, The Monarch? Why is he after us?"

"Me. Just me. He didn't like it when I quit. You're just collateral damage."

"Oh, great." Triana had kept working on the GPS while she talked. "Hey, I think I've got what you want." and stuck the device on the windshield. Gary touched the zoom out button and saw that she had, then went back to a normal view.

"Didn't you say the Monarchmobile can fly?" Hank asked in his ear.

"Sit down and buckle up," Gary warned him. "Yes it can but I'm guessing that the Monarch forgot to mention it to his minions. He's kind of sloppy that way. As long as they don't activate the jet engine we've got them beat."

"And if they do?" Triana asked.

Gary was silent for a moment as he dodged around a few slow moving cars. The on-ramp to the freeway was right in front of him now. "They've got maybe 30 minutes of jet fuel, we've got a nuclear reactor. We can outrun them."

"That's your best idea?" she asked. When Gary didn't answer she reached into her pants and pulled out her cellphone.

"What are you doing?" Gary asked.

"I'm calling my dad!"

"What can he do? We're miles away from where ever he is."

"He's a necromancer! I'm sure he can think of something. At least it's a better idea that hoping that those henchmen are poorly trained!"

Gary swerved onto the freeway, plowing between two semis with inches the spare. The trailing truck slammed on its brakes while blowing its horn. Gary continued into the left lane, forcing an RV that had been trying to pass to dodge onto the shoulder. Ahead of him was clear road. He pushed the pedal to the floor and the atomic behemoth slowly pulled ahead.

He had just cleared the lead semi when he heard Triana close her cellphone with a snap. "Of all the Effing times to be unavailable!" she cursed.

"Try calling the Outrider?" Hank suggested. He still hadn't buckled up.

"Over my dead body," Triana said, unaware of the irony. "Can't you call in the OSI?" she asked.

"They won't respond. This is a Guild sanctioned operation."

"But we're here! Aren't they supposed to keep Hank and Dean alive?"

"Fortunes of war. We've got to take care of ourselves."

"You guys are nuts!" she said, crossing her arms and slumping into the corner of the front seat.

The X-13 was running well over a hundred and twenty miles an hour. Gary, tense behind the wheel, was weaving past cars in either lane as he blew past them at twice their own speed. The Monarchmobile has cleared the line of trucks now but were far in the distance. As the X-13's speed mounted their chances of catching up with him grow smaller. Unless they turned on the jet engine for a bit. But as it stood Gary estimated that in 15-20 minutes he'd have enough of a lead that he could pull off at one of the exits without them seeing him. Then they'd be safe to go home.

He must have been watching the Monarchmobile too intently in the rear view mirror because when he looked back ahead again there was no road!

A quick look around showed that they had been climbing a long, gentle slope which just ahead of them disappeared down a grade. A glance at the speedometer showed them going 160 mph. Gary pressed on the brakes, pumping them so that the tires would not lock up on the pavement and start burning. As it was he left eight dashed lines of skidmarks along the freeway.

He had the X-13 just under a hundred as they rounded the crest and started down hill. The car flew through the air for a few feet before landing with a crash on overloaded shocks and squeals of tires. There was a loud bang as one of them exploded. When the car didn't lurch to one side Gary guessed it was one of the back tires. Whatever. As long as he continued to have control of the car it didn't matter.

He pressed down on the accelerator again and was pulling ahead when he saw the Monarchmobile crest the ridge. They hadn't slowed down like he had. Perhaps they were hoping to gain some lost ground that way. Whatever.

In the rear view mirror Gary could see the purplish Monarchmobile sail high into the sky Almost like a ski jumper they soared up, up, up. Soon they would be going down, down, down. The ground would be unforgiving when they hit it.

"Pop the wings!" Gary breathed. "Pop the wings! - Shit!"

The car never transformed into aerial mode. No wings. No jet engine. It tipped on its side and fell. And landed with a loud crumpling of metal. Glass exploded from the windows. A tire broke free of its mounting and bounded across the road, rolling for a quarter-mile before falling on its side. As it was flopping over, leaking aviation fuel hit the muffler and the car exploded into a massive fireball.

"Wow!" Hank exclaimed. "They blowed up real..."

"Shut up!" Gary snapped. "There were people in that car. People who are dead. Show some respect."

"People who were trying to kill us," Hank retorted.

"People just doing their job. They had no personal interest in what they were doing."

"You were telling them to open their wings," Triana stirred herself. "Did you want them to catch up with us?"

"No." Gary paused to figure out just what he meant. He wasn't sure. "I - worked with those guys for years. They're kind of like friends. Yeah, they were trying to kill me but it was like - 'business'. You know, like in the Godfather. I wasn't, like, going to let them kill me, or us, but I didn't want to have to kill them either."

"What about all those bodies back in the alley?" Hank demanded.

"You do what you got to do, OK? I wasn't proud of having to kill them, and most of them aren't dead, only unconscious anyway. Now shut up. All of you - just shut up!"

Gary lets the X-13 coast until its speed was near the speed limit. The GPS unit showed that an exit was coming up and he took it. Wandering around on back roads he made his way back to the Venture Compound. He parked the X-13 in its shed, intending to inspect it in the morning for damage.

Triana took a few steps away from the car before becoming violently ill. Dean, sheafs of paper tucked under one arm held on to her has she bent over to vomit again. He looked pale and his shirt was soaked in sweat but he had avoided throwing up himself - or wetting his pants.

Hank had run off ahead of them, to be the first to tell Dr. Venture about their adventure.

Gary looked at gate to the X-13's garage and turned to follow Dean and Triana. He suddenly felt tired and spent. His hands trembled. His legs were weak. he had looked death in the eye and death had blinked.

This time.

He wanted to do nothing more than sleep but a look at his watch told him he had only two hours before he was to meet Kim for their date.

Kim and her stupid role-playing game.

Gary so wanted to call it off. Reschedule for another day. Anything. But the thought of having sex with her later...

Gary had yet to realize it but men do stupid stuff when they think they'll get sex in the end. A hot shower and a quick nap, he thought, everything will be better after that.