CHAPTER 7

The story continues as Mark comes to realize that his actions may have cost him the respect of the one person he values the most in his life, Princess; and at a time when he needs her the most. Is what the Eagle experiencing truly withdrawal or something more sinister? Wanting to put the past behind them, can Princess cast her doubts about Mark aside, and provide him with the support he needs despite the anguish he's caused the G-Force team? Still haunted by memories of his father's demise, the need to prove himself to his team mates, and with Spectran agents in pursuit, will the stress be too much for the Eagle to handle? Sorry for the delay, but I've been swamped with work and family obligations. Thanks to those who remain interested.

Jason Devereaux's reputation as one of the world's best racecar drivers preceded him. The young man had proven his worth as he jettisoned through the streets of Bay City in an attempt to protect Mark's identity from being further compromised. Evening was approaching and Spectran agents were in hot pursuit after Mark had been identified by one of their own agents, right after he had arrived at his place on his private airstrip. Both cars tore through the city, leaving unbelievably, only minor damages in their wake. The Condor had shown remarkable endurance, weaving between cars at a grueling pace, a trail of dust and gravel the only remnants that he'd been in the vicinity. In the end he came out victorious, having lost the Spectrans in traffic at the peak of rush hour. The Condor's passenger was nonetheless amazed, but grateful for his friend's exceptional talent behind the wheel. It seems as if though everyone is saving me at one point or another, Mark surmised in silence. He quickly cast a glance at his naked left wrist, missing his G-Force communicator. Suddenly he felt out of place, as if though he had lost his sense of belonging. He watched the city lights dim through the passenger's side door mirror, his reflection shadowed against the glass. It was becoming all too apparent that Zoltar and his Spectran hit men were gaining ground into discovering who Mark Beckham really is.

Jason glanced at Mark briefly out of the corner of his eye, while veering his sports car toward the exit heading for the coastal highway, shifting his car into fifth gear. He knew Mark was putting on a brave front; this afternoon's events had particularly shaken him. Add the violation of his home to the list of things that had gone wrong along with the discovery and loss of his father, and his suicide attempt; Jason questioned just how much more stress Mark's mental and emotional state could tolerate. He watched his friend sitting in the passenger seat, arms folded across his chest, as he appeared engrossed in thought. Mark's brow was furrowed into a serious line, the deep set of his eyes made it seem as if though he were trying to penetrate a hole into his passenger window; his jaw was stern. Despite Mark having been suspended from the team, Jason couldn't see him as anything other than commander of G-Force when he appeared this way. He shook his head slightly from side to side before returning his attention back toward the winding curves of the coastal highway.

Silence hovered between the two young men for several minutes and Mark couldn't take it anymore. He felt compelled to speak; believing at the very least he owed Jason was his gratitude for saving his hide once more. "Listen Jase…," he began, but as soon as the words left his mouth a gnawing ache gripped at him from within. Mark doubled over and clutched at his stomach. The hairs on his skin felt like needles pricking at his insides, and a sheen of perspiration had washed over him within moments.

"Mark you don't have to say anything…," Jason replied but immediately faltered upon seeing the change that had overtaken his best friend. "Mark! What's wrong? What's happening with you?" Jason demanded as his eyes darted back and forth from his suddenly ill passenger to the road. "What's going on?"

It took every effort for Mark to catch his breath before speaking. "Don't know." He licked his dry lips before continuing, "Get me…get me back…back to the beach house." Mark cupped his face in between his trembling hands. I thought I had this thing beat! I'm not supposed to want the drug; my implant's defense mode is supposed to help me through this!

"Mark, I think I should take you to Center Neptune; man you look like shit!" Jason answered in a blunt tone. "I don't like the looks of you right now at all!" Jason's foot eased down a little more on the accelerator and the car picked up speed in seconds.

"No!" Mark turned to the driver and shouted adamantly. "Don't even…don't even think about it!" His head was pounding with the force of a freight train and his vision was blurring. "Besides…the beach house is closer than C.N.'s pier entrance." Mark leaned back into his seat and swallowed at the bile threatening to rise at the back of his throat, shutting his eyes tightly he added breathlessly, "And at the rate you're driving now…I expect us to take flight at any moment." Mark grinned slightly but his attempt at humor was cut short by the gnarling pain felt once again in his stomach; he grasped at the thighs of his blue jeans.

"But Mark," Jason tried to reason with him, his grey eyes expressing his depth of concern. "I don't think Princess can handle this sort of thing…"

"Princess…took care of me before," Mark responded brusquely glancing at Jason out of the corner of his eyes. "I…I trust her." Closing his eyes once more, Mark realized that he meant those words. Princess had never left his side. She was the first person he saw when he came out of unconsciousness while in the hospital. She was there for him when he experienced the throes of withdrawal the first time. Only this time Mark didn't expect the symptoms to continue; he believed his cerebonic implant's defense mechanism should've already eliminated the drug's toxic effects. But something wasn't right; Mark hadn't been given an ordinary drug. It was an experimental derivative, its purpose still relatively unknown. And it was given to him by a Spectran operative, formerly an ISO chemist. Ethically, the right thing to do would be to return to Center Neptune but Mark couldn't bring himself to do so. I believe Prin to be right about one thing; those researchers would have a field day with me! Talk about being a lab rat! Mark thought to himself between bouts of stabbing pain. Prin has gone to such lengths to protect me; there has to be a reason behind that! Her intuitiveness is something I can rely on. Mark grimaced as another bout of discomfort attacked his body and immediately his mind recalled the things he'd done and said to the Swan, wishing he could take back the hurt he caused her. Who the hell am I kidding? I've been a real dick! I wouldn't blame Prin if she shut the door in my face once we got to the house! But he needed help and he needed it now. Deciding to swallow his pride and take a chance on blind faith, Mark ordered, "Take me to Princess," speaking with as much force as he could muster. "She'll know…what to do." Mark leaned his head slightly, giving in to the fatigue that was now conquering his body. Silently he prayed that Princess hadn't given up on him yet.

Jason glanced warily at Mark once more and nodded his head reluctantly. Eagle, I sure hope you know what in the hell you're doing! he thought to himself. Jason shifted the car into overdrive and roared toward the beach house.

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Meanwhile, Princess was reviewing the information Keye had given to her before leaving the IFPP earlier that afternoon; her back against the plush pillows of the couch with her longs legs extended and crossed at the ankles. The Swallow had managed to hack into ISO's database and retrieved restricted information about Valeria Odomodu, the research facility's former chemist turned Spectran operative. It was Valeria who introduced the derivative to the ISO's leading researchers, though no word or explanation had been given on how she obtained it or how she produced the drug. Its base was to act on the body's chemical makeup during anxiety or abnormal apprehension. A normal human subject couldn't withstand the level of receptors introduced into the body. But Valeria wanted to test it on subjects who were scientifically enhanced, namely G-Force. Princess' perceptive green eyes scanned the notes she held in her hands, her nails almost slicing into the pages. That bitch! Princess thought scathingly and shook the file slightly that was in her grasp; she knew that she was being biased against Valeria. Particularly after finding her on top of a half-naked Mark while he was lying virtually unconscious on the prostitute's bed.

Princess placed the file on the small living room table, stood up and walked toward the kitchen's patio doors, her eyes taking in the view of the ocean's vast shoreline. Dusk had cast a shadow over the beach, pretty much like her mood at the moment. No matter how hard she tried to push the image of Valeria and Mark lying in bed out of her mind, that image always returned to taunt her…

Mark had been missing for several days and Princess, tired of the Federation red tape she had to cut through in order to send out a search team to locate a G-Force officer, decided to find Mark on her own. She'd been following him around at one point, worried about his state of mind, and much to her disappointment, noticed that Mark would migrate towards Sector 9. The area was known for its high level of criminal activity, mostly Spectran. Unfortunately many of the inhabitants of Sector 9 were people who were poor and underprivileged; a large number of them virtually homeless as a result of the Spectran mech attacks on Bay City in recent months. The Federation had been at a loss, wanting to evacuate the areas inhabitants and destroy that section of the city, but was overwhelmed with compassion for sparing the lives of those who lost so much or had so little to begin with. Numerous metropolitan cities had been devastated from Spectran attacks. Relocation efforts were useless; there was no safe haven.

Princess had been frantically seeking Mark's whereabouts for hours after she arrived in Sector 9. Displaying a picture of Mark and saying he was her missing brother wasn't getting her anywhere. The only thing that talked was money, and after handing out tens and twenties to people claiming to have seen Mark "just recently," Princess decided she had enough. The final straw came when she had been accosted by a pimp in a local dive; demanding to know who she was and why was she searching for one of his "best customers." Princess' control snapped and she grabbed the foul-mouthed thug by his testicles. "I'll see to it that you pee sitting down from now on if you don't tell me where he is!" A small crowd of onlookers began to gather and gleefully monitored the situation as Princess continued to put the squeeze on. "Tell me!" Princess' voice rose urgently. The thug provided her with an address before he passed out at her feet.

Princess opened the door of the prostitute's apartment with the tenacity of a bulldozer. She almost took the door's hinges off, having kicked it in with her booted foot. There she found him, lying flat on his back, spread eagled with a partially clothed Valeria straddling his hips. The prostitute looked over her shoulder at Princess standing in the beaded doorway of her bedroom; surprised at the intrusion but was rewarded by the look of shocked disbelief on the young woman's face that had just broken into her apartment. From all appearances it appeared as if though the couple were enjoying themselves, and Princess biting her bottom lip in consternation, her eyes watering at what she'd just witnessed, had begun to walk away. She had begun to believe her hunch was wrong until she heard Mark's breathing. Better yet, his labored breathing. The sound was like a distress call; a gurgly noise akin to that of a drowning man. Princess stepped toward the bed and stared in repugnance as she saw that Mark was barely conscious, his blue eyes opened but opaque, his skin was damp with a ghostly pale pallor, his lips and fingertips exhibited a dusky blue hue. Mark was dying right in front of her!

Princess shoved Valeria off of Mark, the prostitute landing on her behind with a thud on the floor. "Hey what the…?" Valeria remarked.

"Jesus, Mark what have you done to yourself?" Princess cried loudly, checking the side of his neck for a carotid pulse. It was faint, but beating with the capacity of racehorse. His skin was cold and clammy. Princess turned to Valeria, who was trying to make a quick exit out of the front door of her apartment. Princess caught up with her, grabbing her by the lapels of her short silk gown and shoved her up against the nearest wall. "What have you given him?" Princess demanded angrily.

The prostitute sneered defiantly, "I didn't do anything to him that he didn't want me to do. I showed him a good time right up until the end. But I've got to tell you girlfriend; his endurance was remarkable. You don't know what you've been missing." Valeria's eyes were the color onyx, dark and devious. She enjoyed goading the intruder almost as much as she enjoyed sex.

"There's something you fail to understand," Princess began, her green eyes darkening to a dangerous black, "You're the only one in this room who likes being screwed." Feeling she had no other choice, nor the time, Princess pulled out the small 'hand cannon' she had hidden at the base of her back, tucked into the waist of her jeans. Jason had long ago suggested should any of them pursue a lead on their own and choosing to remain out of BirdStyle, a gun might prove useful even if it were just for show. She had worn a denim jacket to conceal the weapon for just such an emergency. "I'm not here to play twenty questions! Now what did you give him? What did you mean by right up until the end?" Princess pushed the revolver against Valeria's throat, inwardly seething at the use of her choice of words regarding Mark in the past tense.

Apparently this did the trick. "It…it's a special derivative; a concoction made in a laboratory. Look he said he was tired of being lied to, that his feelings didn't seem to matter to anyone. He asked me to help him get over his pain…," the prostitute answered hurriedly, she actually had the grace to tremble.

Princess wanted more information, but the sound of Mark's breathing caught her attention, becoming shallower, sounding as if though he were air hungry. Thinking she could now make a break for it, Valeria shoved Princess away, pushing at her face as she tried to escape, knocking the gun out of her hand. Princess was too quick for her, however, and after balling her right hand into a fist, struck Valeria on the jaw, knocking her unconscious to the floor.

"Was it good for you?" Princess asked the injured party, kneeling as she replaced the gun back in its original position. "Because it sure as hell was for me!" She then stood up and turned on her heel to reassess Mark before dressing him as quickly as she could. The most she could do was put on his jeans and to throw his shirt over his head. She checked his left wrist before remembering Mark's communicator had been revoked right before his disappearance. He had been suspended.

Princess knew she couldn't leave out front so the fire escape was the best alternate route. Placing Mark's arm around her shoulder and clutching the waistband of his jeans, she hoisted him up against her side and eased him out of the window…

The rest of that evening had been a blur, a rolodex of images passing before Princess' eyes. Rushing towards the checkpoint at the Pacific Coast's pier after contacting Chief Anderson to tell him that she found Mark; her eyes veering from right to left in a panic as she supported Mark's slumped shoulders with her right hand begging him to hold on. Seeing the team's look of disbelief as their team mate and friend was being loaded onto a stretcher and into a mini-submarine to get him to Center Neptune without a moment to spare. At one point Mark had stopped breathing right before the sub's hatch had begun to close, the team watched with painful dismay as the medical team placed the pads of a defibrillator on Mark's chest. Princess had begun to race toward the vessel but was stopped abruptly by Jason. He had reached out for her arm and literally snatched her to him as the vessel began to submerge underneath the ocean's murky depths. Jason had placed Princess' head to his shoulder in an attempt to calm and comfort her, while Keye and Tiny stood nearby ready to console her. She almost succumbed to the feel of Jason's hands smoothing her hair and rubbing her back as he held her tightly. But she remembered her numerous attempts at trying to convince the team that Mark needed help, only to be ignored because 'as a woman, you just wouldn't understand.' Her nerves tightly wound, Princess shoved away from Jason and stared angrily at the remaining three male members. Her green eyes sparkling with tears and defiance as she yelled accusingly at them, "I told you there was something wrong! I was worried Mark might try something like this and none of you believed me!" Princess, with the tears now streaming from her eyes, clutched a fistful of hair into her hands at the top of her head and turned to stare back at the pier where the vessel carrying their commander and friend had just submerged.

Tiny and Keye lowered their heads, too ashamed to admit their role in denying that Mark needed any kind of help. As comrades, they felt as if though they had dishonored their G-Force commander. Jason walked achingly to Princess; feeling he of all people should've sensed Mark's suffering. He reached for her, touching her shoulders as he turned her slowly to face him. "Prin…," Jason began, his voice full of agonizing emotion, his grey eyes cloudy with the threat of his own tears about to fall, "I'm…we're all sorry." Princess looked up at Jason's pained expression and watched his bottom lip quiver, "God Prin…," his resolve had broken and the damn had finally burst as the Condor, in a rare show of emotion, began to cry, "I'm so sorry." Princess wrapped her arms around his neck, as she too, gave into her own anguish and allowed herself to cry openly for the young man who meant so much to all of them…

An urgent pounding at the front door disrupted Princess' thoughts, though silently she was grateful to be rid of reminders of the recent past. Jason must've found Mark, she concluded and rushed hurriedly to the front door. Princess' mouth was agape at what she was witnessing before her. "What in the world…," she whispered in astonishment.

With one arm thrown around Jason's shoulder for support and the other hand splayed against the open door, a very ill Mark appeared before her once more. He appeared to display the same symptoms he had when he had seemingly gone through withdrawal only a few days ago. Mark's skin was dripping with perspiration; his face was bleak and pale, his russet colored hair fell like strings onto his shoulders. It didn't appear as if though he could go any further on his own , let alone stand, but fortunately Jason was there with one arm clutching his torso while the other gripped Mark's arm thrown over his shoulder.

Princess had stepped aside to let Jason assist Mark into the house but Jason raised his hand. "Prin he won't let me." This caused Princess to raise a questioning brow in Mark's direction. Jason sighed before he continued, "He won't let me help him inside until he says what he feels he has to." Jason's grey eyes pleaded with Princess for understanding.

Princess, ready for some idle tale, particularly now upon smelling beer on the breaths of both men, folded her arms across her chest. Skepticism was visible on her lovely features but upon seeing the determined look generating from Mark's eyes, Princess decided to at least give him a chance. She focused on Mark's wary face as he began to speak; his breath hot against her cheeks.

"I…I won't…I can't come inside until…I apologize for everything." Mark was breathless as he spoke but he pressed on, shutting his eyes tightly. "I've been nothing more than a major pain in the ass…to you particularly…" It was then that he opened his eyes once more, this time capturing Princess' as he continued, his manner was beseeching. "I never meant to…it wasn't my intention to hurt you…but I did. Part of me…felt that I needed to know if you…were on my side," Mark said through gritted teeth as he fought off the discomfort that was consuming him from within. "No one…no one seems to think that…I should feel…feel the way that I do about…my father." Mark grimaced, his face contorted with a mixture of anguish and pain, both physical and emotional. "All they…all they see is a hero," he choked. "They don't know anything about him as a father, or a husband…Matt told me…"

The mention of his brother's name raised the brows of both Jason and Princess. Before Mark could say anymore his knees began to buckle underneath him. For some reason the weight of the sensor on his left ankle seemed heavier than before. Instantly Princess reached out for him and Jason tightened his grip on his friend. "Mark, it's alright man. Look let's just go in the house…"

"No…no, please…just let me finish," Mark interrupted shaking his shaggy head, his hand still surprisingly holding onto the door, barring his own entrance across the door's threshold. "Princess…I realize I have no right to ask this of you…," his voice humbled with all of the sincerity he could muster, "I'm asking you…I'm begging you to help…help me please…I don't understand what's happening to me." Princess covered her hands to her mouth, her green eyes misting as Mark looked directly at her. He refused to look away, wanting her to see him as he was, to let her know he was being completely honest with her. "I don't know what …I don't know what I've been given…but I swear to you I'm not…using anything nor do I want to…but something inside of me…something is telling me that I need it. I'm not…an addict!" Mark's voice began to crack under the strain and he lowered his face to the floor.

Princess stepped towards Mark's exhausted figure. She placed her cool hands to his burning face, urging him to look at her again. Mark swore silently to himself, not wanting her to get too close to him. Yet he had no choice as Princess smoothed his damp hair away from his forehead; surprising him when she kissed him softly on that very spot.

She combed the length of Mark's hair with her fingers. "I'm here…we're all here for you." Princess nodded in Jason's direction, including him in the conversation, as his grey eyes silently thanked her for saying that. Mark needed to know he could trust all of them.

Princess removed one hand from Mark's face to cup the side of Jason's neck. An air of genuine affection radiated between the Swan and the Condor causing a stab of jealousy to spear at the Eagle's gut…literally. Mark groaned loudly as the spasm pierced his stomach.

"Let's get you inside pal." Jason led Mark into the house as Princess stepped back to let them gain access inside the living room. She closed the door behind them.

"Now tell me what happened," Princess stated as she stepped around the young men looking over her shoulder, "Starting with that beer I smell coming from the both of you." She was leading them into the bedroom Mark had been using.

"Now Prin it's not what you think," Jason started as he eased Mark onto the edge of the bed. "I found Mark at his place. His house had been broken into and torn apart. Mark was in the middle of it." He helped ease Mark out of his blazer.

Princess gasped as she urged Mark to face her, "Were you hurt?" She touched his forehead, grabbed his shoulders, and rubbed his upper arms.

Mark couldn't believe how concerned she appeared to be. He felt awful for causing worry to reflect from those magnificent rainforest green eyes. What he wanted to do was to put her mind at ease. He said the first thing that came to his mind.

"God you look so beautiful," Mark sputtered not realizing the words had left his mouth until it was too late. Where the hell did that come from? I didn't mean to say that! Everything began to turn blue, then purple, then green before he fell back onto the mattress.

Princess was taken aback and in her surprise turned to Jason, who was kneeling on the floor removing Mark's shoes.

"What? Don't look at me. He was speaking to you," Jason lifted his chin in her direction.

Princess turned to look at the limp figure lying on the bed. She leaned over, believing Mark had fainted from fever and fatigue. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched on either side. She leaned over and began to unbutton his shirt. Princess moved the material aside, brushing her hands against Mark's damp chest, when he enclosed his hands around her wrist surprising her once more. The movement caused Princess to look up quickly, her large eyes meeting Mark's partially veiled blue ones.

"The…the first time…I kissed you…I swear it was…like tasting warm honey and peaches," he murmured pulling her closer, a faint smile on his full lips.

Princess snatched her wrists out of Mark's grip only to look up and catch Jason watching their interaction with renewed interest. A cherry red tint had stained Princess' cheeks. Mark had again passed out.

"He's obviously delirious," she muttered and stood up from the bed to smooth her hair behind her ears.

"Obviously," Jason grinned and moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to Mark. He looked over his shoulder at his friend, deliberately changing the subject. "Prin we only had a beer to talk things through. Nothing else. Mark said he wants to get better and I believe him." Jason then returned his focus to Princess. "We were spotted by Spectran agents at his airstrip. Once we realized we were being watched, we hauled ass out of there. They tried to follow us but I lost them in the city." Jason returned another worrisome look over his shoulder at Mark. "On our way back here Mark became ill. I can't explain it. He seemed fine when we left. Is he gonna be alright?"

Princess folded her arms across her chest. "He should be though now I'm beginning to question the source. We went through this the other night," she answered quietly.

Jason turned to stare thoughtfully at her. "So Mark told me, though not in so many words. I offered to take him to Center Neptune but he refused. He said that he wanted to come here. He said that you would help him."

"Of course he wouldn't want to go to Center Neptune. He believes he has it easy here," Princess retorted, a small scowl etched across her brow, although silently she had hoped Mark was beginning to place his faith in her.

Jason shook his head. "No Prin. It's not just that. He trusts you. That's important considering all that he has to deal with right now. Maybe he'll confide in you what he won't to me or to anyone else at this time." Jason moved from the bed to stand next to Princess.

"So you think Mark's hiding something too?" Princess asked as she reluctantly shifted her glance from Mark to Jason. "I haven't heard him mention Matthew in years."

Jason brow furrowed. "Me either," he responded in a clipped voice. "Makes you wonder what's going on in that shaggy head of his."

Princess continued, "I've been reviewing the file Keye gave me. I'm beginning to question whether it's actually withdrawal Mark is experiencing. The symptoms are similar, but it doesn't add up that he can function one moment and become ill the next. It seems as if though something is triggering this response."

Jason then removed his jacket and began to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. He sighed heavily before saying, "Well I'm here for the night. I'm not letting you take care of Mark alone so where do I start?"

Princess pointed at Mark and instructed, "Take off the rest of his clothes. I'll go run a tepid bath for him. I'm certain he's burning up with fever. Once Mark is settled I'll put a pot of coffee on; this could be a long night."

Princess started to leave but Jason latched onto her upper arm. "Wait a second. Why don't I run the bath and you get him undressed? You've obviously done this for him before Honey Lips," he spoke in a sordid undertone.

"I thought taking off someone's clothes was your specialty?" Princess returned sweetly though her tone was filled with sarcasm.

"Yeah, women's clothes not some dude's. Look I love Mark like a brother but this is where even I draw the line and I'm almost certain Mark would agree with me. If he wakes up and finds me taking off his clothes, there's no telling what type of damage that could do to him not to mention my reputation. If you're kneeling at his feet when he wakes up he'll just curse himself for not remembering what could've been a pleasant experience if he were conscious." Jason scurried past Princess and threw back over his shoulder. "Tepid water right? Not cold!"

"Coward!" Princess shouted back before pivoting on her bare feet to stand at the edge of the bed. She smoothed her damp palms over her hips before lowering herself next to Mark's side. Princess touched Mark's exposed chest, feeling the heat rise from him underneath her hands. Hurriedly she removed Mark's shirt and blue jeans. I'm glad that you're beginning to feel that you can trust me. I just hope that I can live up to your expectations. Princess then fingered the waistband of Mark's boxers and smiled knowingly to herself. Warm honey and peaches huh? Princess sobered and shook her head slightly. "Come on Eagle. Let's get you into that bathtub." Gingerly, she placed Mark's arms over her shoulders and lifted him off of the bed...

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Meanwhile on the outskirts of Bay City…

A dark cruiser was parked beneath a lone street lamp in the vicinity of Sector 9. Another car pulled alongside the cruiser; its inhabitants were the Spectran agents that had made an attempt at following the car of, unbeknownst to them, G-2 aka the Condor of G-Force.

The agents exited the car and made their way to stand at attentionbefore the rear passenger door of the first vehicle. The other driver opened the door to allow Commander Garrett out of the cruiser. Garrett was the superior officer in the search for the son of Colonel Cronus, who sabotaged the efforts of the Spectran's Doomsday weapon by sacrificing his own life. Since that time Lord Zoltar had made it a priority to seek for Cronus' surviving family, believing that the young man who came to seek Cronus' whereabouts on Planet Riga before the launching of the Doomsday missile was not only Mark, but the commander of G-Force.

Garrett, standing well over six feet, possessed dark looks and exhibited a threatening presence that did not go unnoticed by his Spectran cohorts. He was known for his hatred of Earthlings and despised the way Zoltar had failed in his efforts to overtake the planet and its existing allies. He did not tolerate the deficiencies of his men when it came to completing a job. His handlings of failures reported to him were considered legendary, though many considered them rumors. Garrett had been instrumental in Valeria's demise, informing Lord Zoltar that she allowed Mark to escape with a then unidentified woman.

Garrett took a drag off of the cigarette he had in his mouth before asking in a cloud of smoke along with a deep gravelly voice, "Did you manage to find the target's location?" Garrett preferred to use the word 'target' as opposed to the name of the intended victim.

The two agents looked at each other before one of them decided to speak. "We lost them in the city sir. The driver seemed to have more skill behind the wheel than we could've given him credit for."

A deep scowl had been tunneled into Garrett's brow causing the agent who had previously spoken to step back. The other officer continued, "Sir, the driver of the car did seem familiar. I could've sworn it was Jason Devereaux; I've seen his face on television and in the papers. He races cars for a living."

Garrett contemplated before responding, tossing the remnants of his cigarette and crushing the butt with his foot on the pavement. "The target seems to run with a host of characters. The young woman who saved him has been identified as the Galaxy Security chief's daughter, Princess Anderson. She's been spotted in Bay City also. We'll bide our time for now. They can't hide forever."

The first officer asked, "But shouldn't we relay this information to Lord Zoltar? Shouldn't we tell him what we discovered?"

"No!" Garrett adamantly announced. "The time has come for Zoltar to step aside! Why should he bask in the glory that my hard work has provided? For too long, Spectra has suffered under the rule of that weak bastard! If I provide the Luminous One with the son of Cronus and quite possibly the commander of G-Force then I will reap the reward and suggest the execution of Zoltar! Then I will rule Spectra as it was meant to be!" Garrett's voice exuded an impenetrable force to be reckoned with.

He stepped closer to the officers standing in front of him and cast a look at both men. "Which one of you was the driver chasing the target?"

The first officer responded guardedly. "It was me sir."

In seconds a blade appeared in Garrett's hand and he sliced off the right hand of the driver with expert precision. Garrett produced a maniacal smile as the driver fell to his knees shouting in excruciating pain. The second officer was rooted to the pavement, his eyes fixated on the spew of blood erupting from the amputated limb. Garrett's driver never flinched; he had seen it coming.

Commander Garrett swiveled on his heels toward his cruiser's rear passenger side, his driver opening the door for him. "The rumors are true gentlemen. I never tolerate failure." He had spoken over his shoulder, his tone sinister and unyielding before entering his cruiser, leaving the two remaining officers to deal with the bloody consequences. Within moments the Spectran cruiser had disappeared into the dark of night.

Thanks for reading!