Operation Code 8-800

Dragon wondered for the thousandth time why he was the one who always got stuck knocking out all the thugs in the backroom. As he picked the lock on the door, he grumbled. He knew why. It was because there was no way that he could pass for anyone over 13. He cursed both his genetics and his lock pick when the stupid door would not unlock. None of the thugs were carrying keys so he had to pick the door. So far he had wasted five minutes with no success. In frustration, he kicked the door. It swung open.

"You're kidding me," Dragon muttered as he walked through the door. It had never been locked! That would explain why the thugs didn't have keys and why they had been standing outside the door talking and smoking.

Behind the door were three guards who were dealt with quickly. Dragon knocked them out, stole their cell phones, and thrown the thugs outside the now locked door.

Inside a single flame-like lamp lit the area. From the light, Dragon could spot four crates against the far wall. He didn't need a stupid watch to tell him what was inside. The cases were glowing a haunting blue and he could feel the radiation surrounding them. He quickly found a crowbar and opened one of the crates. Inside were small stones. Although they were glowing blue, the stones were actually red.

Reaching into his black coat, he pulled out a small box. 45 had made it with the casing of bullets that he had deemed useless. Made completely out of lead, the box was the only thing the boys were trusted with to handle dangerously radioactive chemicals with. (They had destroyed the first box they had been given.) He grabbed a small sample and turned to leave. Now he had to find the rest of the gang. Outside the goons were attacking the door. Obviously they didn't think about going through the front door. Dragon rolled his eyes. They never did.

The other boys still hadn't appeared in the back yet but Dragon didn't feel like waiting. From one of the many pockets in his coat, he pulled out a box of matches. He would have preferred a lighter and made it look like a careless smoker had caused the burning demise he was about to unleash but his still hadn't been replaced.

45 had borrowed it and was leaning against a guard rail lining the street when he fell over and into the street. A car was coming but 45 dodged. Unfortunately he left the lighter. Dragon decided never to lead 45 anything again.

While he was grumbling about his lack of lighter, Dragon noticed a pile of papers dipping into an ashtray. He smirked and lit the match. The flames bit into the papers and devoured them as Dragon added some 'kindling.' While the fire grew, Dragon turned his attention to the front. As tempting as letting the others burn was, he could never abandon his team. (Not that he'd ever call them that.)

He quickly slipped through the door to the front only to crash into two familiar idiots. Apparently the other three had finally gotten their rears in gear. With barely a glance in Spirit's direction, Dragon tossed the box to 45.

"There's no point going back there," Dragon said. "I already took care of everything."

45 groaned. "I thought we agreed I'd get to blow the place up this time."

"You were slow."

Before 45 could reply, Spirit pointed into the crowd behind them. "Speaking of slow, it looks like the bouncer finally found us."

Dragon turned to look but saw nothing. He stood on his tiptoes but still couldn't see over the swarm of bodies. 45 must have spotted the bouncer because he muttered, "Dragon, how long until this place goes up in flames?"

Dragon shrugged. "Three minutes?"

Spirit glared down at him. "Why didn't you tell us sooner!"

"You didn't ask."

45 groaned as he looked away from the approaching bouncer. "So much for a fun time," he said before he walked over to the nearby fire alarm. He pulled the cord and the music stopped as an alarm rang throughout the area. Dancers looked around in confusion before noticing the smoke leaking from the back. Dragon smirked as panic gripped the crowd. Idiots.

They merged into the crowd with ease and were quickly blocks away from the bar. Fox walked up to them as 45 was complaining about not being able to punch even one lousy BBC bodyguard. At first the other boys didn't notice Fox's forced grin but Dragon noticed and while the two idiots talked he turned to Fox.

"Problem?" he asked.

Fox held up a small piece of paper. "I've got a date."