Species: Angel of Vermin

by WeAreHarbinger

(THIS STORY TIES IN TO SPECIES: THE SURVIVOR) Sil regenerated herself from a Rat in Los Angeles, and has remained in the shadows ever since. Over the years, an urban legend has emerged in her wake, the urban myth of the Angel of Vermin. Now she dwells in the alleys and abandoned places of a dystopian New York, an alpha predator in the shadows, but her true test lies ahead of her.

4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Night the Angel found her Hooded Crow

SIX AND A HALF YEARS EARLIER - UNITED NATIONS PLAZA - MANHATTAN

It was a cold November night in New York, and it was quiet. It was a time of hope, patriotism and celebration throughout the city as thousands gathered in Times Square, and in bars to watch the historic launch of the Excursion Voyage. The first manned mission to Mars was scheduled to lift off at 10pm.

Press Lennox popped another gum and began to chew, feeling the cool sensation as it permeated his mouth, it was this or another cigarette, and he was trying to quit, but kept having the occasional backward step. It was 7pm and Press knew he had just enough time to deliver this package to his Jet, after which he could join Laura in midtown for their long overdue date, and they could watch the launch in a bar together.

She was in New York for the weekend, they had tried, but grew apart over the past couple of years. When she took a job in Washington. She found herself under NDA and unable to discuss it, something about it troubled her although she hid it well. In any case, it meant them seeing less and less of each other. Deep down, Press knew that this weekend was their last chance to rekindle their relationship.

He had worked for years as a contractor specialising in search and destroy, tracking down eliminating problem individuals before they impacted the government's narrative, or their bottom line, he had grown disaffected with that kind of work after L.A. and meeting Laura.

Moreover, the mission to eliminate Sil had left him feeling dirty, although she had killed a number of people, including members of the search team, he understood, fundamentally, that she was just trying to survive in a world that she knew didn't want her hell of a thing to live with he thought. During the mission, he had come to respect her tenacity. As a result, he'd wound down his contracting work and eventually made the switch to diplomatic protection. He was feeling it out, and had plans in motion to start his own firm.

Tonight he was part of the team protecting a "Package" by the name of Joaquim Dalton, a high level business financier and international conciliator. He was the owner of a number of businesses including a prominent international consultancy firm "Apex Stratagem" which provided a wide range of services from legal, operational, shipping and security. Press had met a few such individuals in his time, however, Dalton did stand out, for one, he was considerably wealthier than most others, and rubbed shoulders with a more influential crowd, he had risen to prominence fast, through family connections, but from what Press had seen, he was naturally goal oriented, driven and a natural negotiator and facilitator.

There was, however, something slightly off, Dalton did attend a lot of closed door meetings and some of the people at those meetings were no state representatives or known business moguls, some were the heads of PMC groups, members of the military industrial complex, weapons manufacturers and some others that just didn't sit well with him. That was the world Press had come from, he knew the types, he knew dealing under the table when he saw it. It was probably why Dalton had a larger than normal protection detail.

Tonight was his last night in New York before flying to Berlin, and Press was in charge of his protection detail. "Primary is travelling" Press said into his Wrist Mic as Dalton emerged from his meeting. Press opened the door and fell into step at his side.

Dalton walked fast and Press found himself increasing his pace to stay in step "I'm going to miss New York, Press, Dalton said, as he reached the security checkpoint, "Yeah? Well, hurry back, don't forget to ask for me" Press chuckled. Dalton was a people person and was very approachable, Press had, of course, heard horror stories about other clients from his friends and contacts who had also made this transition, but he had lucked out with Dalton, he was a people person. "I certainly won't" Dalton smiled, "What's next for you?" he asked. "A long overdue date" Press chuckled.

"Well, she's a lucky lady" Dalton said.

Press walked Dalton out to his motorcade of three cars, he was "primary" in the armoured limousine, which was escorted front and rear by two Rezvani Vengeance armoured escalades. Press opened the door for Dalton who took one last look up at the UN plaza before promptly climbing in, followed by Press and another protection officer named Benjamin Grissom, a former Army Ranger. In the Limousine's front passenger seat was a an Englishman, Robert Tyler wasn't much for personality, but a solid protection officer, a former London Metropolitan police officer with 10 years on the Parliamentary and Diplomatic Protection Command.

(WRITER'S NOTE: To add an extra layer of fun to this action scene. Recommended soundtrack: Cyberpriest - Breach Protocol Remix)

As the motorcade pulled away, Press couldn't explain it, but as soon as they exited the UN Plaza, he had that feeling, the hairs raised on the back of his neck. They were almost immediately confirmed when a high explosive drone swooped out of nowhere and detonated on the side of the lead truck, it wasn't enough to put it out of action, but it was enough to rock the truck to the one side and severely damage the armour plating.

"Jesus Fucking Christ" Dalton shouted as Grissom grabbed him and pushed his head down. "Exit Right, East 43rd" Press barked into his microphone and the lead truck peeled right followed by the rest of the motorcade onto East 43rd. "Heads on a swivel, did anyone see where that came from?" Press asked over the radio channel, the reply was all negative.

"Exit left on 2nd Avenue" Press ordered. Then watched in horror as the lead truck began to turn, only to be hit by three more high-explosive drones which came directly up 2nd Avenue South. These drones did the job and put the truck out of action, the armour plating over the engine block was shredded and the truck was dead.

All but the driver survived and immediately jumped out and set security around the stricken vehicle. "Everybody get into a vehicle, NOW!" Press ordered and immediately cursed himself for raising his voice, he was the lead officer on this detail, it was his job to remain calm and keep everything running smoothly, he'd trained for this, hell, he'd been on the other side of this, taking out a target.

The Limousine and the rear-guard vehicle slowed just enough to allow the seven operators to jump inside or hold on to the sides respectively "Hang Right, uptown, then exit left on East 54th towards, we'll double back along 7th avenue!" Press barked into the radio.

Just at that moment, he spotted another drone hovering on station above on 45th street, then another as they passed by 47th, 48th and 49th. As they passed, each one fell into pursuit as they passed by, soon there were six drones on their tail "Speed up" Press said across the channel "Don't stop for anything!".

As he passed by two more streets approaching the turning point, Press came to a horrible realisation "Shit!" he said "We're being herded". Tyler leaned forward in the front seat and twisted to look back "If these are the hounds?" he asked

As Press looked past him through the front windshield, he realised he'd made the connection too late. A dark figure stood in the middle of the intersection they were approaching on 2nd Avenue and East 54th street.

The next few moments happened in slow motion. Press spotted the man in the intersection, wearing what looked like a black leather, armoured motorcycle jacket with a hood, as they drew closer, he saw it was some kind of advanced tactical jacket with honeycomb pattern segmented pads and built-in shoulder armour on the left side. He wore black or dark grey, tactical trousers with more armour pads.

Most notably, the full face helmet that peered out from beneath that hood was like nothing Press had ever seen, an advanced design. It was mostly smooth, apart from the eight small red ocular sensors arrayed around the centre of the helmet, behind a type of mesh, very smooth, sleek and conservative in design.

The eye sensors looked almost almost like the configuration of the eyes of a spider. Press also spotted, that slung across his back was what appeared to be a black tactical, leaf bladed sword in a Kevlar sheath.

Press was only partially aware of the almost reverent tone in which Dalton uttered "Jesus Christ….A Whisper…"

The man casually stepped to one side as the limousine passed and didn't raise the KRISS Vector SMG in his hands. Instead, he raised his left arm, which Press then noticed had an advanced looking gauntlet, and closed his fist.

Several small rocket propelled projectiles emerged from the two barrels on the top of the gauntlet and struck the lower portion of the limousine on the nearside front. The high explosive rounds rocked the limousine, sending Press, Dalton, Grissom and the four operators that had joined them tumbling as the driver lost control and was subsequently T-Boned by a truck at the intersection.

Press was dazed, and fought to shake himself out of it, as he did, he heard more gunfire and explosions and knew the pursuing drones had likely struck home on the limousine and the rear-guard vehicle during the crash. When he regained his senses, he realised he was laying on the nearside rear window, staring at the asphalt. The Limousine was on its side. "Everyone out" Press ordered.

The front windshield was bulletproof, but the explosive rounds and the crash had destroyed it. Press was able to kick a big enough hole to get them out and immediately became aware of the gunfire. Grissom and Tyler both set themselves at opposite angles, covering one another as Press brought Tyler out and got him into cover.

Press handed Dalton off to Grissom and rounded the front of the limousine to see his remaining men in the rear-guard vehicle heavily engaged with what he assumed at first were multiple hostiles.

As his senses fully returned, he now saw it was only one, the man from the intersection had closed the distance and engaged his rear-guard in Close Quarters as they drew up to set security.

Press shook off the last of the daze and looked up just in time to see one of his fellow protection operators, John Omire was a former police officer from Mississippi. He approached the hostile, the man in black who was moving from cover to cover, taking shots at the rear-guard. Omire had moved around in a flanking manoeuvre.

Omire waited until he heard the Vector click. The man in black flicked away a spent magazine and Omire made his move, breaking cover to fire. It was almost as if the man in black had been expecting it, for he jumped up at the precise moment Omire did, meeting him mid stride.

The man in black took hold of Omire's MP5 and twisted it up and outwards, breaking the line of fire and trapping Omire's arm at an awkward angle.

The man then "Punched" him with the flat barrel of the Vector, stunning and knocking Omire back two paces. Omire went for his sidearm, but the man swiped his arm, taking the barrel offline and went for his own sidearm, an XR920P came out faster than Omire could reach out to push it off his line of fire, the man put two rounds into Omire's chest at point blank range, then up to his head and ended him.

The man then quickly spun around, ducked, rolled and tripped another one of Press's men Oliver Bains, who had flanked from the opposite side, grappling, pinning him to the ground and dispatching him in the same manner. All of this happened before Omire had dropped to his knees and slumped to the floor.

The man then dove and rolled into cover behind a bright red SUV which had also been impacted during the collision. Press didn't see him reload his Vector, but he heard the weapon cycling.

From there, the man in black broke cover and resumed his relentless advance. Benjamin North, like Omire, a former police officer from Chicago jumped up and unloaded an entire clip of his MP5 Short into the man, but it had no effect.

Press had never seen a suit like that before but guessed it was some form of advanced Nano-Fibre, he had read about advancements in the technology, but had no idea it was on the streets.

The man backhanded the MP5 off his line of fire, then kicked Benjamin North in the side of his knee. There was a horrible crack and North screamed as his leg bent at an angle it was never meant to bend. The man then grabbed his arm, and threw him bodily over his shoulder to the floor, where he pinned him and dispatched him with a headshot.

As if nothing happened, he stood up and continued advancing. Press had seen assassins before, he'd fought them, he'd even worked with them, but he had never seen anyone this vicious and relentless, especially when completely outgunned.

"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Press flung open the back of the, now totalled, Rezvani Vengeance, the drones had struck the engine block from top and bottom, piercing the armour and shredding the engine using some kind of shaped thermite charge.

Press pulled out the Atchisson AA-12 assault shotgun and ordered his men to fall back "Fall back, fall back down East 54th". Press took a deep breath and swung the barrel of the AA12 around the side of the truck. Press couldn't see his actual eyes behind that mask, but there was definitely eye contact, then Press clamped his finger down on the trigger and let loose with the AA12, sending 12 gauge steel slugs downrange at the man.

To Press's horror, the steel slugs didn't penetrate the man's suit, but they did knock him off balance and sent his shot wide.

The man ducked and rolled behind a white Volkswagen Golf which had been in the middle of pulling out when the shooting started, the driver had made the smart decision to get out and duck back into one of the shops.

As luck would have it, a bright yellow Chevrolet Silverado came down the street, the driver listening to heavy metal and rubbernecking at what he must've initially thought was a car accident Thank God for idiots Press thought as he stepped into the street.

The driver of the Chevrolet slammed on the brakes when he saw Press aiming an automatic shotgun at his face "OUT OF THE TRUCK, NOW!" The man hesitated a few seconds too long, by that time, Press had thrown open the driver side door, grabbed a handful of the front of his jacket and yanked him out. Grissom approached with Dalton under his arm, about to bundle him into the back "NO!" Press shouted "Not yet". Grissom looked back up the street and then back at Press, he was on the same page "Run that fucker down!" he growled.

"Pin him down" Press ordered over the comm, as he threw the truck into reverse and put his foot down, the rest of the protection detail opened fire at the man's position, forcing him to stay down. The Chevrolet's engine roared as it hurtled backwards, Press leaned around to see out the rear window and braced himself for the inevitable impact.

The Chevrolet Silverado smashed into the small Volkswagen Golf. The impact of the much larger, heavier vehicle sent the smaller vehicle spinning. The masked man was hit with the full force of the impact and was flung out of his cover and sent several feet through the air like a ragdoll.

Press saw him hit a concrete jersey barrier being used for some light road maintenance on the corner and flip over, landing hard, face down behind it.

"Fuck you!" Press shouted as he threw the truck into gear and gunned it forward back to his men "Everyone in". Grissom bundled Dalton into the back seat with his remaining men, four more jumped into the back.

The last man on the protection detail to reach the back of the truck was the Englishman, Tyler, who looked back one last time, then suddenly stopped and started back up the street.

"Come on, Tyler, Get in!" Press shouted, but then he saw it, the man in black was getting back up. Bracing himself against the concrete barrier. Even with that helmet, it looked like he'd had his bell rung pretty good by the impact "Good, hope it hurts, you savage little fucker" Press seethed as he watched Tyler take aim in the rear-view.

Seeing his chance, Tyler raised his M4 and carefully aimed as the man stood up. Tyler took three shots, only to hear three disappointing metallic tinks as each shot ricocheted off of that impenetrable tactical helmet.

When it had no effect, Tyler did the worst thing he could've done, he got angry. Tyler let loose the remaining ten rounds in his magazine into the man, who staggered slightly from the impacts, but seemed otherwise un-phased.

The man in black, who initially looked dazed, seemed to snap out of it and whipped his head around to stare directly at Tyler with those eight red ocular sensors, like eight burning red eyes. What was probably only two seconds that seemed like an eternity.

Tyler seemed to realise what was about to happen and frantically dumped his magazine and tried to reload, it was too late. Unceremoniously, the masked man raised the Kriss Vector and took a single, precisely aimed headshot, spraying Tyler's blood and grey matter across the occupants in the back, and hitting the back window of the cab. The man then began marching towards them again.

"FUCK" Press shouted as he put his foot all the way down on the accelerator and sped down East 54th.

Press pulled out his phone and called in the Code Red "Request immediate extraction of priority package immediately, 42 Sutton Place South Rooftop, five minutes". The response came a few seconds later "Confirmed, rendezvous at 42 Sutton Place South five mikes".

Thirty seconds later, Press stood on the brakes and brought the Chevrolet to a halt outside the building at 42 Sutton Place South, a unit apartment building that overlooked the East River. The Sun was going down and he needed to extract Dalton and keep his remaining men alive.

They had no sooner entered the front lobby when a Blue Honda Civic screeched to a halt outside. Press found himself staring at those eight red eyes again as the man in black stepped out and went into a combat ready TAC-Stance, feet forward and began to march towards the building. Although Press couldn't see the man's face, he got the sense from his body language that he was now very angry!

"Rear-guard action!" Press shouted, and his remaining five men took cover in the lobby. Press and Grissom made for the elevator and the doors began to close. The last thing Press saw before the elevator doors closed completely, was the man in black punch the glass door at the entrance so hard that it shattered and then the firing began.

"Jesus Christ, who the fuck was that!" Grissom said "They call him the Hooded Crow" Dalton said, he sounded almost reverent. "You what? You fucking know this guy?" Press shouted. "I don't know his real name, he's a wh…an assassin for the highest bidder. Listen Press, you've got to get me out of here, he will not stop!" Dalton's voice was shaky, he clearly knew who this "Hooded Crow" was from whatever under-the-table shit he was involved with and was terrified.

Press had never encountered anyone this relentless since Sil, he clicked the radio "Report… report". The channel briefly crackled to life and all Press heard was a lot of gunfire and screams "Fuck, I think it's just us".

The elevator stopped at the top floor. Press raised the AA-12 and cleared the corridor while Grissom moved Dalton. At the far end of the corridor, Press spotted the exit up onto the roof and kicked it open. Just as he did, he rounded and aimed the Shotgun down the hallway. Three of his men emerged from the stairwell, looking bloodied.

All three were aiming their weapons down the stairs. Press felt an instant rush of relief that they weren't the last one's after all.

That relief was short lived, for just as Grissom passed Press and went up the stairs to the roof, a flashbang grenade rocked the entire hallway. The first of his men by the stairs, Terrence Edison was immediately knocked back against the wall as "Hooded Crow" emerged from the stairwell fighting, Press aimed, but couldn't get a clean shot. Leland and Daniels were between him and Edison.

The Crow delivered several body shots and an uppercut to the stricken Edison before rolling him to the ground in a grappling move and ending him with the KRISS Vector flush to his head. This time he wasn't fast enough, for Joshua Leland and Chris Daniels were up and aiming their weapons, they had this "Hooded Crow" dead to rights. Leland opened fire first, followed by Daniels.

Press watched, trying to find a shot, as "Hooded Crow" weathered the assault, his state of the art Nano-Fibre clothing and advanced helmet were clearly able to shrug off sustained, large calibre gunfire. Both men stopped to reload.

Crow raised the KRISS Vector again, but momentarily realised it was damaged by their gunfire, tossing it aside, he dove at Daniels first, going for a throat strike, knocking him back against one wall, and, in the same move, jumping up to double kick Leland aside with both legs.

The momentum dropped all three men to the floor, Press Searched for a clean shot, but no opportunity presented itself. Between the smoke, and the fact that all three men were fighting on the ground, he could not for the life of him find a clean shot, not without risking hitting one of his guys.

Daniels managed to grapple the Crow as Leland rolled free and went for his side-arm, the Crow was quicker, ignoring the fact he was in a choke hold, he pulled his own side-arm. A double tap to the chest and one to the head finished Leland, leaving only Daniels, Press saw his chance "HOLD HIM, HOLD HIM THERE!" Press yelled, and began moving back down the hallway.

The two men struggled, but Press saw the pistol rising again, this time swinging around to aim at him, he had one clean shot and took it…. At that exact moment, Crow threw himself to the right, pulling Daniels with him, Press's finger was already depressing the trigger, and the round was sent before Press could stop.

"FUCK!" Press bellowed as the Steel Slug round hit Daniels in the shoulder. His Kevlar vest took most of it, but he was badly winged and no longer able to hold on to the man in black. Still, Daniels kept fighting, pulling his sidearm and letting off several shots at point blank range.

Crow's bullet resistant suit weathered the point blank shots, he delivered a savage elbow strike, rolled free and came up into a kneeling position with his own sidearm ready. Press broke into a jog back up the hallway, and saw the two men literally exchange point blank gunfire while in a kneeling position.

Daniels was finished and slumped to one side, Crow then tossed another flashbang to halt Press's advance.

Press was ten paces away and could do nothing to stop it, he dropped to one knee, shut his eyes, covered his ears and opened his mouth to counteract the inevitable pressure wave from the concussive blast.

The flashbang went off with a mighty BOOM, had Press not been ready for it, it would have levelled him at this range, but now he was ready to end this bastard. Press braced and aimed the AA12.

Crow wasted not a single second as he kicked off the wall and dove back into the stairwell with more of Press's shells hitting behind him. "Shit!" Press looked down, he had half a drum left, and one eight-round box magazine left containing 12-gauge slugs, he wasn't going to make them blind shots. It was time to go on the offensive.

Press rushed forward and aimed the AA12 down the stairwell, Crow was faster, raising his arm with the advanced Gauntlet weapon, he unleashed a burst of small, hissing projectiles one after the other, causing Press to dive back around the corner. The Projectiles were small, about the size of bullets, but rocket propelled, and detonated with significant force on impact, ripping out a large chunk of the wall.

Press was familiar with this type of munition, it appeared to be an advanced type of Gyro-Jet bullet, it had been invented back in the 60's but never caught on, someone had clearly re-invented the design and incorporated it into whatever that sleek wrist-mounted contraption was, whatever the case, it was lethal.

Realising he was once again outmanoeuvred, and with the smoke making it hard to see in the hallway, Press opted instead to fall back towards the rooftop door. He fired off the rest of the drum in the direction of the stairwell to cover his retreat before dumping the drum and replacing it with the Box Magazine as he made for the rooftop door.

Press made it around the corner and slammed the door shut just as he saw the man in black emerging from the smoke in the hallway.

"What the fuck was that?" Grissom yelled. "I dunno" Press said "I think he's using explosive gyro-jet rounds… never seen anything like it". "He's a Whisper, he'll keep going till we're all dead" Dalton shouted, he was still being held down in a protective posture by Dalton. "Yeah later on, you and I are gonna have a serious chat about how you know this guy!" Press growled. "There won't be a later!" Dalton retorted.

THUMP! An explosion rocked the steel rooftop door. "He's coming through," Dalton shouted. "How long till extraction?" Grissom asked, prompting Press to check his watch. "Sixty seconds out" Press said, and stole a glance south in the direction of the UN Plaza and spotted their ride inbound, a twin engine Sikorsky MH 60 Pave Hawk. On board would be reinforcements.

Their attention was drawn back to the door by THUMP… THUMP… The bottom of the door began to buckle. Press raised the AA12 at the door and backed up. There wasn't much cover up here, just a few brick walls and arranged flower beds.

Finally, with one powerful concussive blast, the door was blown off it's hinges. Both Press and Grissom trained their weapons on the doorway, but all they were looking into was a thick blanket of smoke.

For the next few seconds nothing happened, then TINK TINK TINK Press looked down to see an M84 Stun Grenade rolling towards his feet "GRENADE" Press yelled, and kicked the grenade away into the corner as he ducked to cover his eyes. The detonation rocked all three of them but Press was the first one up on his feet.

Press brought the AA12 to bear on the doorway, but never made it, for the man was already on him. The man Dalton had called a "Whisper" and "Hooded Crow" seized the barrel of the AA12 and directed it away, while in the same move, he jabbed Press in the elbow, dislodging the rifle and sending it spinning to the floor.

Press went for his Glock with his free hand but was instantly smashed in the face by two open hand palm strikes and a hard knee to the abdomen. Press went down to his knees and instantly Grissom found a clear shot, Crow took several 5.56 Rounds to the face and chest from Grissom's M4 Carbine. None of the rounds penetrated.

Grissom threw Dalton aside as Crow drew his sidearm and let off several shots from the hip, sending Grissom off balance and knocking him to the ground. Press seized the opportunity and grabbed Crow by the arm, pulling it down by the elbow in a similar move to what the man had done to him, and knocking the XR920P out of his grip.

Crow responded with a savage punch to Press's face, before grabbing his hair and yanking his head backward. Reaching up with his other hand and pulling out the 28" Tactical Leaf Bladed Sword. He brought it down in a stabbing motion onto Press's Chest, but Press was the bigger of the two, using his weight and muscle mass to force the blade aside, wrapping both arms around the Crow's waist and driving him backwards towards the wall.

Grissom was injured but alive, Press's plan was to hold Crow against the wall long enough for Grissom to get up, and deliver a coup de gras at close range… he never made it to the wall.

Crow was smaller than Press, lighter, upon being grappled, he seemed to instantly figure out the objective and went into a submissive roll, throwing Press bodily over onto his back. Before Press could recover, Crow was on top of him and he was staring into those eight red eyes behind the armoured mesh of his helmet.

Crow brought the Tactical sword down hard against Press's chest, left with little choice, Press grabbed the blade, feeling it cut through his leather gloves and bite into his skin, he ignored the pain and growled as he struggled with all his might.

Crow's response was to strike the pommel of his tactical sword with a powerful blow, and then another, sending it straight down, through Press's Kevlar vest and deep into his ribcage.

The sound was the most horrific part, it reminded him of plunging a shovel into loose soil. Press felt instant, lashing pain permeating his chest and tasted blood in his throat. Fuck… I'm dead Press thought … I'm actually going to fucking die. I've gone up against assassins before, terrorists, criminals of all kinds, not to mention an alien bitch beneath an L.A. sewer, and now, on this goddamn rooftop, this vicious masked fucker has just killed me… Press gasped in disbelief, and only managed to growl one single query "Who… THE FUCK … Are you!"

Press heard a concise, two word response to his question through the helmet's mouth grill "Bad Guy". "Bad Guy"… Fucking "Bad Guy" Press thought What the hell was that? Some kind of wisecrack, a sick joke of some kind?

Even though it was only a couple of words though a mask, Press did pick up on the accent, an English accent, not refined like his one time colleague Stephen Arden, who had assisted in tracking down the Alien Sil, no, this was more of a regional English accent, possibly from the North or Midland region.

Crow raised his hand to deliver another blow to the pommel and send the sword deeper, but a burst of 5.56 rounds came at him again from the side, ricocheting off his helmet and against the advanced Nano-Fibre he was wearing. But at least one of the rounds must've found a home because it elicited a flinch and a small "Ugghh" in response.

Grissom had recovered into a kneeling position and was once again firing. In the next instant, Grissom opened fire again.

As Press looked up, he saw his last opportunity, pulled his sidearm and aimed up, point blank at the armoured assassin. Press's Glock20 was loaded with 10mm AP Armour piercing rounds. Press let loose a full clip into Crow's neck and shoulder.

Whatever the Nano-Fibre armour this man was wearing was truly something else, Press saw only one round make it through the neck guard and another into his shoulder, both drew a steady flow of blood before his clip ran dry. Crow slapped the Glock out of Press's hand and ripped the sword free of his chest before diving and rolling towards Grissom as he reloaded.

Grissom cycled the weapon and managed one more shot before Crow was on him. Press watched in horror as the assassin came out of his roll and up over Grissom with the sword pointed down.

The Sword entered Grissom's shoulder from the collar bone and was driven all the way down through his body.

Grissom coughed up a pint of blood and slumped to the floor as Crow pulled out the sword and got to his feet, seemingly un-phased by having taken three gunshot wounds.

Press knew he was likely going to bleed out in the next few minutes, but he wasn't entering the next life without taking this man with him. Press was at one time the "Freelance solution to the government's problems" a search and destroy specialist, he had essentially been an assassin himself, terrorists, cartels, rogue soldiers and a fucking alien, there was no way he was going let this vicious, masked fucker get the best of him.

Press spotted the fallen AA12 on the ground several feet away. Through his fading vision, it looked like it was miles from him, but he had to reach it. The Hooded Crow swept the sword in a downstroke, throwing residual blood across the tiles and then an upward flourish, returning it to its scabbard on his back before casually leaning down to retrieve his sidearm.

Crow glanced back at Press, but apparently no longer regarded him as a threat or an obstacle, for there was now nobody between him and Dalton, who had retreated to the far corner of the rooftop garden.

That cold, momentary, appraising glance was more insulting than anything, as if to say it without saying it… You'll bleed out in your own time, I don't need to bother with you anymore…

Press could hear the engine of the approaching helicopter, they would have a gunner onboard who would be able to make short work of this fucker, maybe, just maybe, Press had bought enough time.

Crow turned and regarded Dalton, then began to make his way across the rooftop towards him. Press dragged himself into a kneeling position and clutched his chest "Well…I'm sorry Laura, looks like I'm gonna be a little late for our date" Press uttered.

The next thirty seconds were as decisive as they were horrific. Crow stepped up onto the corner of the rooftop garden just as the Helicopter fell into a circling pattern. Press watched as the side door of the MH60 Pave Hawk slid open and a gunner leaned out with the latest XM250 Machine gun.

Crow spotted this too, and like Press, must have been aware of the weapon's capability. He dropped, rolled and dove across the rooftop garden, chased by a spray of broken tiles as the .227 Fury rounds chased him behind one of the brick walls topped with mostly twigs and small evergreens this time of year.

"Come on, fuck him up" Press growled as he dragged himself across the tiles towards the AA12. However, what happened next, Press couldn't ever have imagined. Crow rolled back out from cover, levelled his Gauntlet weapon up at the helicopter and unleashed a stream of his high explosive Gyro-Jet rounds.

Press watched in horror as the small, but highly explosive projectiles streaked towards the MH60 Pave Hawk. The Pilot obviously spotted it too and attempted evasive action, but it was too late, the first few rounds struck the gunner directly, reducing him to a red mist, several more struck inside the open door and inside the crew compartment, and the last few struck and detonated along the tail.

The Hooded Crow rose to his feet and Press could only watch in horror as the stricken Helicopter spun wildly out of control, trailing smoke in a wide arc as it went into an uncontrollable tailspin before it dropped out of sight and collided with the corner of the building.

The sound of the explosion was immense, and for the second time in as many minutes, Press was rocked by a concussive force, this time accompanied by the sound of a hundred windows smashing in unison. A gargantuan flame shot up into the air as the fuel lines exploded and the remnants of the helicopter fell to the freezing waters of the East River 12 stories below.

Press was the only one left as Crow was once again on track to execute his objective. There was no way Press was going to the next life without taking this fucker with him. Press used the last of his energy to drag himself across the tiles to retrieve the AA12. As he slid his hand around the grip and locked open the catch, he saw The Hooded Crow stop in front of Dalton and utter something, he wasn't sure what it was, but it sounded something like "for all the children".

Dalton's face suddenly turned to anger in what was about to be his final moments and hissed back "Fuck you, all of you!" before Crow raised his sidearm to aim at his target. "HAY ASSHOLE!" Press bellowed with the last of his voice. Crow's head whipped around and he attempted to bring his weapon around on Press, but Press's finger was already on the trigger.

Press sent all eight 12-gauge slugs right into The Hooded Crow's centre mass. Press wasn't sure if any of them penetrated whatever advanced nano-fibre he was wearing, but they did the job. Crow was blown backwards, he got off several shots in the exchange, one of which hit Press right in the collar bone, but not before he was blown backwards through a section of the wall damaged by the explosion and over the edge.

Press watched as the man in the black mask pitched backwards and disappeared out of sight over the edge of the building, the only trace of him remaining was his sidearm, the XR920P fell from his hand as he was blown backwards over the side of the building.

Press exhaled and looked at Dalton. The man was wide eyed, panting heavily and clearly couldn't believe he was alive. Dalton collected himself, picked up the Hooded Crow's fallen weapon, looked over the side and seemingly didn't see anything, as he immediately turned and ran over to Press. "You.. you got him! Press you got him!" That was the last thing Press heard before everything went Black. As he faded, he thought he heard Laura's voice "Press, it's gonna be ok…"

---

SMALLPOX MEMORIAL HOSPITAL GOUNDS - ROOSEVALT ISLAND

The sight of Patrick Ross's face on everything was getting annoying. Nicole Toombs had a six pack of cold beers in her bag all with his stupid grinning face on them. While everyone else in the city packed into bars and living rooms to watch the historic launch of the Excursion Mission to Mars, she was going to take some time above ground in the park.

After grabbing a small pizza from a food stand in South Point Park on Roosevelt Island, she made her way over to pathways near the old Smallpox Memorial Hospital specifically, the leafy pathway that separated the old hospital grounds from the freezing East River. The cold didn't bother Nikki, she was going to take advantage of the quiet streets and sit here for the evening, taking in the view.

As she arrived and found a bench overlooking the East River, she thought she heard something like an explosion to the south, somewhere beyond the UN Plaza Perhaps it was fireworks. Nikki thought nothing of it and used her fingernail to flick off the bottle cap of her first beer of the evening. Setting the pizza down beside her, she settled in to enjoy the quiet.

As Nikki finished her first slice and chased it with a swig of beer, she heard another loud boom, specifically, three loud booms in quick succession. Still thinking nothing of it, she carried on enjoying her beer, admiring the light of the buildings reflecting on the icy water.

Over the next few minutes as Nikki enjoyed her second slice, she began to take notice, something was definitely happening over there. Somewhere around 2nd Avenue and possibly 53rd or 5th street. The first thing she heard was a series of very loud cracks, followed by the distinctive sound of a vehicle collision. Nikki knew all too well what it was like to be hit by a car.

Human ears would likely not detect this amount of detail, but Nikki was… different. A few moments later, Nikki knew she was hearing an exchange of gunfire. She bit into her second slice and felt the hot spices permeate her mouth as she listened to the exchange of automatic fire in the streets beyond the buildings. Someone was having a rough night, clearly… better you than me Nikki thought.

After a few minutes the gunfire died down, replaced by the roar of vehicle engines, they were coming towards the FDR, Nikki looked up, perhaps she could now pick them out, they seemed to be just behind the buildings on Sutton Place South.

Nikki finished her first beer and went for another, she found herself more invested in whatever misadventure was occurring just across the water than she realised. It wasn't long before she could pinpoint almost exactly where it was. The building on Sutton Place South, overlooking the river.

Right near the water and with such quiet streets, Nikki could pick out a lot of audible detail. A fearsome exchange of gunfire inside the building, interrupted by a series of loud explosions. Nikki's attention was drawn south for a moment as she became aware of a military type helicopter taking off from the UN Plaza and heading up the East River towards the building where someone was clearly engaged in a serious gun battle.

Her attention was suddenly drawn back to the north as she heard an extremely loud bang, accompanied by a bright flash on the rooftop of Sutton Place South. Whatever was happening, it had moved up through the building and now it was on the roof.

A few moments later, there was another quick exchange of gunfire, followed by a short lull, and then another. Someone was definitely fighting on that rooftop, Nikki could see the rapid muzzle flashes.

The Helicopter swooped low as it passed by Nikki, sl low that she felt the down draft from the rotors, and came up over Sutton Place South. Now Nikki actually saw something. At this distance, a normal person wouldn't be able to pick out the details, but Nikki wasn't a normal person. The Military Pale Hawk's side door swung open and a man in heavy body armour leaned out with an advanced heavy machine gun.

From this angle, Nikki couldn't see what was happening on top of the rooftop, just hear the shots.

Nikki watched as the man let off several bursts onto the rooftop as the Helicopter swung around to find another angle. Just at that moment, someone or something on the rooftop sent several small, hissing rocket-like projectiles up at the Helicopter, the first few rounds hit the machine gunner and Nikki saw him explode in a cloud of blood. The rest hit inside and alone the back of the Helicopter and sent it into a wild tailspin.

Nikki had no love of government or military, and found it incredibly satisfying when the helicopter clipped the corner of the building, spun around and smashed into the wall before exploding in a gargantuan fireball. Pieces of the helicopter and the building rained down into the icy river below. Wow, that was an encore! Nikki thought, biting into another slice.

The smoke made what happened next difficult to see, but a few moments later, Nikki heard another burst of gunfire and thought she saw someone either jump or fall off the building.

Well, that was certainly more interesting than watching boring speeches, backslapping and some rich Senator's Son strap a rocket to his ass and get shot off to Mars… If he gets stranded there, will they stop putting his face on everything? Nikki wondered, now fully invested in the action.

She took her beer and her Pizza and hopped up onto the stone wall separating the pathway from the rocky shoreline on the other side.

There, she observed the police response as they shut down the FDR Tunnel and redirected traffic, boats patrolled the river and a mix of police and likely News helicopters circled overhead.

The Sun went down as Nikki continued to watch, wondering what all that was about, while she casually worked on her fourth bottle of beer. Nikki had been living on the streets for years and witnessed numerous acts of violence… she had been a part of some of them, but she had never seen anything on that scale… not since L.A. when they had come after her with attack helicopters.

Whatever the case, she felt glad that someone had given the government a taste of their own medicine, and she had been in the right place, at the right time to witness it.

Finally, Nikki began to feel like the main action was over, she would have to follow this up in the papers. They would undoubtedly appeal for witnesses, but there was no chance she'd be contributing.

She decided it was time to head back over to the maintenance access near 440 Main Street to drop back down to the tunnels and head through to Manhattan and down to Terminus. Terminus was her primary "Home", a deep storage area lost beneath the abandoned Terminal City Underground Project, sealed off for years until she'd managed to effectively burrow into it by breaking through a sealed off section of tunnel.

Just as Nikki collected her pack, she noticed something on the rocky shoreline a few yards away, something that wasn't there before… It was a body.

Curious, Nikki thought it might have been one of the pilots from the military helicopter, but as she approached, she saw that this was no military pilot.

This individual wore a dark, segmented tactical jacket with a hood. There was some sort of helmet that covered his whole head and face, the likes of which Nikki had never seen, an advanced design of some kind.

On his back was a Kevlar scabbard containing a black bladed sword and on his left forearm was some kind of Bracer or Gauntlet containing some kind of contraption from which protruded a vented gun barrel.

The water was freezing, chunks of ice had already formed and this man had no heartbeat… so he wouldn't miss this fancy gear. As Nikki leaned in close and began unclipping his wrist gauntlet. As she stuffed the gauntlet thing into her pack, Nikki became aware of something, a scent on the man's clothes, a familiar scent… No… NO!

Nikki grabbed the man's shoulder and rolled him over onto his back, the mask still obscured his features, but he had a familiar scent on him, all over him. The scent Nikki remembered, the scent of the one they called "Press" one of the killers from Los Angeles, the one who shot her and dropped her into a pit of fire… with … with her baby…

She wanted to see who he was, and put her hands around the helmet to pull it free, as she did, it hit her, a vision, a memory. The man called Press, down on his back with a blade through his chest, Nikki focused and found more images, something she had done a few times, an ability she'd discovered in the years since L.A.

In the next image the man they called Press was covered in blood, but firing a large gun and an angry expression on his face. This triggered a third vision: "let go you motherfucker" the memory of the man they called Press, blasting her into a pit of fire.

Nikki pulled her hands away with a hiss of pain, like touching something hot, taking several long, deep breaths to get her thoughts straight, then decided she was going to see who this person was, he had been with Press, he had hurt him. Press was here, in the city, this man might know where…

Nikki reached down again and tugged at the helmet but it refused to move, it was clearly sealed, so she began looking for some kind of release catch, it was then that she heard it… a single heartbeat… then another, and another...

Nikki leaned in close, she could smell the pheromones, sensing his internal rhythms coming rapidly back to life… no, not back to lie, just back. Adrenaline and endorphins surged as his heart pumped harder and harder, it was like it had gone from zero to a hundred, until it was pounding.

This internal change was something Nikki had never encountered, usually when something was dead, it stayed that way…everything but her of course, but this person wasn't like her, she knew she would have sensed something like that.

In the next instant, Nikki couldn't help but flinch, startled as eight red Eyes, some kind of ocular sensors around the eye level of the helmet suddenly illuminated.

Eight deep red eyes that seemed to stare right into her, before she could fathom what was happening, she was seized around the throat and shoved backward.

Nikki stumbled and fell back and fell against the wall, instantly feeling a rush of anger. She got into a low stance with her claw ready and looked up to find that the man had jumped up into a perfect fighting stance.

Nikki seized him up, apart from the three visible gunshot wounds, she could hear and sense the fact that he had internal injuries too, and his ribs were badly broken, not to mention he'd been in freezing cold water. Several 12-gague slugs were still clinging to the strange, honeycomb pattern jacket he was wearing.

The two of them remained there, staring at one another, each in a defensive posture. The man in the mask looked down at his left forearm and noticed that the weapon he'd been wearing was gone, he made some subtle hiss of frustration and locked those eight red eyes on her. For a moment, neither one of them moved.

Despite her anger, Nikki actually found herself feeling impressed. This individual had been in freezing water for the better part of an hour, he had three visible gunshot wounds and she could sense the fact that he also had many internal injuries, he had several badly broken ribs and likely other fractures. The fact that he was still alive, let alone still had some fight in him was impressive.

Nikky focused on his rhythms, the initial surge that had brought him back to consciousness was becoming unsteady and from ragged his breathing, she sensed he was in a lot of pain. This was why he wasn't initiating a confrontation, he was conserving energy, but it was faltering.

Nikki was almost about to lash out and finish him off when he abruptly faltered and dropped to one knee, painfully, and started fidgeting around his neck with shaky hands. He found the release catch of his helmet that Nikki had just been looking for, and the helmet came loose with an audible hiss.

As it lifted, a disgusting gunk mixture of congealed blood and saltwater dropped out and dribbled down his chest.

Ughh, he's been breathing that crap! Nikki found herself involuntarily wincing and shuddering at how painful and disgusting it looked, she hardly realised, at this point, that she was no longer bearing her claws. The decision that this person was no longer a threat was an unconscious one. He's been breathing a mixture

He breathed deeply and felt the side of his neck, baring his teeth from the pain of the wound he felt there, oozing a steady stream of blood. His hand slipped down his shoulder, and found another wound, further down there was a third that Nikki could see.

Whenever Nikki got injured, the pain was intense but short lived, her body could heal grievous wounds much faster than others, one of her many "gifts" from the compound where she was "Born".

There was a time that the shove he gave her would have been all the excuse she needed to finish him off and loot that interesting looking gear he was wearing. Times had changed, she had changed. She knew better than to act rashly. He had startled her when he suddenly awoke, and she understood that she must've startled him too.

Nikki decided she would watch, she hopped up onto the wall and sat there, prompting the man to glance up at her for a moment, he seemed to make a quick appraisal, size her up, decide that she wasn't going to attack him again, and then went back to the more pressing matter of stopping the bleeding.

Going into his utility belt with shaky hands, he pulled out a small plastic pouch and tore off the corner with his teeth. Nikki spotted the label on the bag that said Clotting Agent.

What he did next looked incredibly painful. Pulling open his strange armour jacket, he began applying the clotting agent to all three of his wounds, each one looked more painful than the last with the one beneath his floating rib being the worst.

"Who are you?" she demanded, "You smell like him, I know you've been near him!" she said forcefully. He definitely heard her, but paid no attention to the question, looking around at the police activity across the river.

Nikki felt anger and frustration at his lack of acknowledgement, she wasn't about to let that scent, or that vision go unanswered. As he reached down to retrieve his helmet, Nikki jumped off the wall and snatched it up before he could. "I asked you a question!" she said forcefully.

This was the first time he had really looked at her without his face covered, and she could make out his full features. He was handsome in an unconventional way, he had a close beard, but his hair was shaved at the sides to reveal a Celtic swirl style tattoo starting at his right temple and travelling down over his ear to the back of his neck. He had a small scar on his left cheek, but it was his eyes that were the most captivating, one deep blue, the other a striking green, there was a fierceness and intensity there, and something else, an aura, an acuity, she sensed it now that he was fully conscious.

Back in L.A. one of the other men who hunted her had possessed extrasensory abilities similar to her own, though not quite as powerful, she had sensed that energy, that aura about him too. She remembered what they called him, Dan. She never heard them say his last name, she never cared.

This man with the strange eyes gave off a similar energy, he possessed heightened abilities. The man in L.A, Dan, had these gifts, and although he was hunting her, the energy he radiated through his abilities gave off a calmness. Nikki loathed to think of the words "Innocent and Gentle" as words to describe the energy given off by "Dan"… given what he had done to her, what he had done to her baby, but he wasn't a natural fighter, and they applied.

By stark contrast, the energy, the aura she got from this new individual was sharp, intense, powerful, like his abilities had been honed into a sharp edge. Dogs and Wolves…this is the difference between Dogs and Wolves Nikki thought.

"I know you've been near him, I know his scent" Nikki hissed. The man didn't respond, he checked the police activity across the river again. Nikki found herself following his gaze. Then, he abruptly, painfully dragged himself to his feet, staggered several paces to the concrete wall and threw himself over it to land face down on the pathway on the other side.

Nikki looked across the river again and then down at the advanced looking helmet in her hand. He wouldn't make it far, she could sense it, the initial surge that had brought him back to consciousness was fading fast.

He was looking for a place to shelter, like an injured animal crawling away to die, but she wasn't going to let him do that without knowing about Press. Nikki followed him and by the time she'd hopped back over the wall, he'd dragged himself onto the hard frozen grass on the lawn in front of the old Smallpox Memorial Hospital.

Nikki had finally reached the end of her patience, she followed him and stepped on his leg, prompting a pained response. Nikki leaned down and took him by the throat "I'm only going to ask you one more time… The man they call Press, you were with him, where is he now?"

"I.. don't…know who you're talking about" the man growled out. His accent, some kind of regional English, possibly with a very faint hint of Irish in there too. She knew someone else with an English accent once. "You did all that?" Nikki said, gesturing over her shoulder to the destruction across the river.

"What do you think?" he growled and grabbed her wrist and pulled but couldn't break her grip. "What the fuck do you want, lady?" he hissed "I just told you" she responded. "I don't know anyone called Press, alright!" he said.

His internal rhythms were all over the place, Nikki couldn't tell if he was lying, only, his tone of voice seemed matter-of-fact. Nikki let go of his throat and pinned him with her knee on his shoulder, prompting a painful moan. She didn't care, he had seen Press, and she was going to find out where he was.

Nikki reached into her pack and found something she always carried with her, a small, leather bound book. She pulled it out and unbound the leather, opening onto all her sketches of the city, of people she watched from a distance, of her tunnels, and of her memories.

She found the page dedicated to Press, and shoved it up to the man's face "There, that man, I smell him on you, now WHERE!". The man's expression visibly changed, recognition, then anger "That guy…" he uttered. "Yes, that guy… I know you've seen him WHERE IS HE!" Nikki demanded.

"He.. I… I shanked him" the man breathed. Nikki let the pressure off his shoulder, he let out another painful groan "You stabbed him, is he dead?" when there was no immediate response she grabbed him around the jaw "IS HE FUCKING DEAD?" She shouted. Her frustration was reaching a fever pitch. She had been enjoying a peaceful night, then she'd been treated to some light entertainment, and now here she was, that scent, that gleaned image, brought it all flooding back.

Nikki realised at that moment just how loud she was being. She straightened up to look around, and listened for a moment, but thankfully didn't hear anyone, she hadn't attracted any attention. She looked back down at the man, who's rhythms had faded down significantly, his eyes were beginning to look heavy and he was fighting the urge to close them. No… NO, Not before you tell me! Nikki thought, and slapped him hard and shook him, "Hay… HAY!... Fuck!" it was no use, he was completely unconscious.

Nikki's frustration was building to an almost uncontrollable level, she clenched her fists and considered ending the man. Press was in the city, and now her only lead was useless. "Fuck" Nikki growled. Then an Idea began to form. This man had stabbed him, there were several Emergency rooms near that building, if Press was still alive, he would be in one of them. If Nikki checked them all, then she might find him. If she could get him alone, the order of the night would be payback.

Nikki got up and started to make her way back towards 440 main street, across from the MTA entrance where she could go back down to the tunnels and across to Manhattan. She didn't know what, or why, but something made her stop, maybe she could get more information, maybe she was impressed at his resilience, or maybe it was just the fact that he hurt some government types, including Press, but the thought crept in all the same I'm not gonna leave him to die out here…she thought.

Nikki knew someone in the tunnels, a woman they called "Doc". Rebecca Leland had been a Doctor, a healer, until she had fallen afoul of a gambling and recreational drug habit which sent her life into a tailspin. She had managed to kick the majority of the heavy drugs but Nikki had seen her help others, if anyone could help this strange man, it was Doc Leland.

Nikki looked around. This wasn't going to be easy, but if she stuck to the shadows, she would be able to get him back into the maintenance shaft without being seen. Nikki once again snatched up his helmet which she'd thrown down next to him and shoved it into her satchel so as not to leave any evidence of their presence for the police. Then she hefted him onto her shoulder and began the journey back.

Nikki moved fast, sticking to the shadows, avoiding the few people she saw milling around, most of them had been drinking anyway, the Excursion launch had prompted a lot of celebration.

She travelled along the park parallel to the East Loop Road and then along the waterfront, where she switched her mode of carry to hefting him with one arm over her shoulder, he managed some semblance of consciousness enough to move, but was mostly out of it.

At one point, she encountered a couple on a bench enjoying one another's company in the shadow of the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge and played it like it was just a normal thing.

"Come on, let's get you home, you've had a little too much" she said loudly as she moved past them, pretending to put more effort into hefting him than she actually was. She stole a glance over her shoulder and saw them going back to kissing. Nikki shook her head and carried on. That was surprisingly easy she thought Sex is always a good distraction.

His clotting agent had worked, but he was still bleeding, the couple didn't notice in the dark. From there, she switched to carrying him again over her shoulder again in a fireman's lift. The most difficult part was dropping down the maintenance shaft, that was the only time he had briefly woken up, brought on by the pain of being dragged through a small space with his injuries Hurts huh? Ever been gassed, hunted like an animal and burned alive? Nikki thought, but didn't give voice to that thought.

It took Nikki two hours to reach terminal city on foot, normally she would just stow away on a passing subway train, but there was CCTV, and that must be avoided tonight. She finally found Doc Leland in her usual spot, a long abandoned maintenance service area for a tunnel which hadn't seen use in over fifty years. Doc was with Jesse Ozwald, her on-again-off again war veteran boyfriend.

It was Jesse who spotted Nikki first, and raised his false hand to wave "Nikki, Check it out Bekki, Angel's come to join us!" he called out. "What's up, Jesse, not celebrating with the rest of the city tonight?" Nikki said as she walked up the old tread metal steps into their "Home". The old maintenance service area was lit only by candles and a Kerosene Lantern, which Jesse picked up to see better "Nah, who cares about Mars" Jesse said "We got enough problems down here". "Ain't that the truth" Nikki said as she entered the space carrying the strange man over her shoulder.

"Nikki!…What's this?" Doc said, slightly slurred, she'd been drinking "Not sure, but he just blew up half of midtown then I found him in the river" Nikki said. Jesse stood up "Get him back there, there's a table". Nikki followed Jesse through two concrete pillars into an alcove separated by rope, over which were hung a number of blankets.

Nikki laid the man on the table as Doc Leland followed them in. She peeled open his tactical clothing and began examining his wounds, feeling his chest, rolling him over to feel his back. "Fuck me… six.. No, seven broken ribs, collar bone, scapula. These gunshots in his neck and shoulder look like they've gone clean through, but this one under his rib, I'll need to get that out" Even while partially drunk, Doc Leland's skills never left her, Nikki wondered if she'd ever performed surgery while drunk.

"Jees, he's really been through it, I've seen injuries like this before, not too many of them still breathing" Jesse said. Nikki looked at him "He also tried to fight me" she said. "What, in this state?" Jesse asked, his eyes were wide "I'm surprised he could even stand". "Yeah, normally I'd have just left him there, but, I dunno". Nikki was mid-sentence when she caught Jesse smiling "What?" she said. "You've got it in you" He said, tapping his left temple "Not leaving a fallen man behind… either that or you just thought he was cute". "What! Shut up!" Nikki half laughed.

After finishing her examination, Doc went into an old chest of drawers in the corner, one that Nikki had lifted down here for her several months before, and came out with a sharp looking pair of mini pliers and a serrated bread knife.

"Fuck Bekki, are you trying to kill the guy?" Jesse said, shocked. "We use what we have, hand me that Vodka" she demanded. Nikki noticed that the sudden excitement seemed to have sobered her up, and watched as she rubbed the Vodka first on her hands, then onto the pliers and knife, before finally taking a big swig before going into the wound.

The man woke again suddenly and reflexively reached out his arm to stop her, but Nikki grabbed him by the wrist, pulled both his arms back and held him down.

What followed was thirty minutes of Nikki having to hold the man down as Doc removed the bullet and sterilised the wound. After she was done, he fell into a deep unconscious state, Nikki noticed his heartbeats reduced to once every ten seconds. It was as if this man had some kind of ability to influence his own internal rhythm, he had control over it somehow. Nikki reasoned that it had something to do with his extrasensory capability.

"Well" Doc said as she pushed aside the blankets and emerged out onto the front steps of the maintenance service dock "He might make it". She washed her hands in the Vodka again, rinsing the blood away "I stitched his other wounds and bandaged his ribs" she said, now completely sober, "Touch and go, provided he doesn't develop an infection he's got an even chance. Who is he anyway?". "No idea" Nikki said "But he saw someone I … I know he saw him" Nikki began "Someone from L.A is here in the city, I'm gonna find him".

Doc and Jesse knew some details about Nikki, they knew Nikki was different, but not the full extent. Nikki had told them a watered down version of what happened in her past "Nikki, best not to reopen old wounds, they think you're dead, best to keep it that way" Jesse said "You said they came after you in L.A, if they really are in town, and the wrong person sees you up there, you know what could happen".

Nikki shook her head "No, I'm… look, I'm just gonna check the hospitals, see what's going on, If I can, I'll grab some stuff for you".

Nikki threw her pack over her shoulder and was making her way down the tunnel before there could be any further argument "Antibiotics and steroids" Doc shouted after her "And get plenty, that stuff is like gold dust". Nikki waved over her shoulder in acknowledgment.

---

NYU LANGONE EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT

Laura hurried through the halls of NYU Langone Emergency department to find the main reception desk. It was chaos in the city, there had been a major attack, true to form, Press had been right in the middle of it.

She had been in her hotel in lower Manhattan when she got the call, a man named Dalton who she didn't know had called her from Press's phone and told her he'd been badly hurt, he'd sent a car to her hotel. The streets had been blocked with traffic in Midtown as 2nd Avenue had been shut down, in the end, she'd bailed out of the diplomatic car and ran the rest of the way to the hospital.

She went straight past the clean cut man in his early forties with a sharp, but slightly tattered suit, surrounded by a heavily armed security detail and about a dozen NYPD officers.

Laura leaned over the main desk urgently "Preston Lennox, is he here?". The receptionist was clearly swamped with work in the middle of such a chaotic scene and barely registered her query "Ma'am, I'm looking for Preston Lennox, is he here" Laura was getting desperate.

It was then that Laura felt a hand on her shoulder, it made her startle "Are you Laura?" Laura turned to see the man in the suit had come over to her. "Laura I'm Joaquim Dalton, Press was heading my security detail when we were attacked". Laura shook her head, "Y.. Yes I'm Laura, is he here, is he ok?" Laura realised her voice was becoming shaky. Dalton put both his hands on her shoulders and braced her. "Laura, he was badly hurt, the doctors are doing everything they can, I'll personally see that he gets the best care".

"M..Mr Dalton, what happened?" Laura's eyes were streaming now, Dalton held her tighter, "He saved my life, we were attacked, Press never stopped fighting". Laura found herself reaching up and holding this perfect stranger by the arms "Is he gonna make it?" was the only question she could think to ask. Dalton squeezed her shoulders "I promise Laura, they have the best Doctors taking care of him.

Dalton ushered Laura into a separate "Family room" and brought her a hot chocolate, he seemed kind and responsible, the type of man that Press would get along with.

Laura found herself waiting there the whole night, during the course of the night, Dalton visited her in the room on several occasions, bringing her coffee, snacks and reassuring words. She had discovered, through overhearing Dalton's discussions with his security detail that the assassin who had attacked their convoy had some kind of nickname, or codename "Hooded Crow" and that a body still hadn't been recovered.

Laura also overheard one of the NYPD detectives talking to Dalton and he gave his statement. Laura listened to them all talking. Her main concern was Press, but she found that she needed the distraction. He'd apparently been stabbed in the chest while protecting Dalton from some assassin they called the "Hooded Crow" and also exchanged shots with him.

Press was also the only member of Dalton's eighteen man security detail to survive. If this "Hooded Crow" is still alive, if I get my hands on him, he'll wish Press had killed him, Laura thought, feeling anger rising inside her. Hearing the statement, it was clear the assassin was highly skilled and absolutely vicious.

It was close to 4:30am when the Doctor finally came to her and told her that Press was stable enough to visit, but he had been placed into a medically induced coma.

Laura took a long deep breath at the door and prepared herself. When she finally saw Press. There were so many tubes and wires protruding from his chest, face and arms that Laura instantly broke down. Moving over to his side, she put her palm on his forehead. He was hot to the touch. The room was silent apart from the constant rhythmic bleeps from the monitors.

"Ohhh….You… you big idiot" She said softly, "This your idea of a date? Why did you have to go and throw yourself into it again?" she said, pulling out a tissue. Laura sat by his bed, crying uncontrollably for several minutes before finally pulling herself together.

"Well, looks like you'll have another damn obsession when you get out of here, if they don't find this guy soon. That's right, they haven't found him… you know what that means. It means you'll be all distracted, wondering if he's out there, just like you did with you-know-who after the crash in the L.A. hills… you were right then. But you know what, this time, you're gonna concentrate on getting yourself better, and then you're gonna let someone else deal with him, you hear me?…".

Laura squeezed his hand, there was no response, but she felt his warmth. "Press, I'm in the middle of something in Washington, the government, the military, your old C.O. Burgess… I think we're gonna need you, I am, I'm gonna need you".

Laura squeezed tighter "Press, if you can hear me, you have to fight now, you'd better get your ass out of this, you hear me?… I don't… I don't think I can do this without you…There's … so much I wanted to tell you tonight" Laura's voice trailed off, she was unable to speak. She slumped back into the chair and held her head in her hands, hot tears rolled down her face.

Earlier this evening they had planned on a long overdue date, and they were going to spend the weekend together, to see if they could rekindle that flame. Laura was even planning to confide in Press what she had been working on for the past year and a half. She was planning on telling him about…. Eve.

How the military had planned on creating her anyway, but she had joined the project for the opportunity to study the alien life form. The tests and experiments they had forced her to conduct on Eve had been nothing short of monstrous.

Laura had observed as Eve grew at a rapid rate, just like her predecessor, but unlike Sil, Eve had Laura, and Laura had nurtured her and taught her…raised her. Eve was thoughtful, kind, extremely intelligent, both intellectually and emotionally.

Laura tried every tactic, every delay, on every experiment, to keep the Project running smoothly, but the fact was, she was finding it harder and harder to see Eve as just an experiment, she had done the unthinkable and developed feelings for the alien life form.

Laura knew that at some point, she would have to make a choice, to give Eve a quick end, or to somehow facilitate her escape, knowing the danger that posed. Danger or not, Eve was innocent.

Right now, Laura felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. Press would likely hate her when he found out about Eve, but she knew she had to tell him. Now all that had gone out the window thanks to some goddamn masked assassin.

The nurse entered the room and began to check Press over, Laura stood out of the way "Hello, Nurse, c… can you tell me how he's doing". The Nurse made several notes and opened Press's eye to check his Pupillary Response.

"Well, his vitals look good, considering the massive trauma he's suffered, Pupillary response is strong… that means he's in there, he's fighting. It's early days, but we'll take good care of him Ma'am. The Doctors are coming to make a full assessment in a few minutes, you can stay in the waiting room till they're finished if you like".

"T.. Thanks" Laura said, She leaned over and gave Press a kiss on his forehead "Don't go anywhere you" She whispered.

---

It wasn't the first time Nikki had stolen supplies from a hospital, never for herself, but for someone down in the tunnels or on the streets, the stuff was top quality and fetched a handsome price. It was the first time she'd been inside NYU Langone. She'd picked it because of it's proximity to the location of the attack.

After successfully sneaking into the 3rd story medical supply room, Nikki had filled her pack with batches of antibiotics, morphine, epinephrine, steroids, buprenorphine, methadone, naltrexone as well as some scalpels and other small medical tools that Doc Leland could make use of. Nikki then continued with her original purpose for being at NYU Langone.

She had donned a surgical mask and pulled up her hood. Luckily, it was also a relatively quiet night on this floor and she was able to get in and out without being noticed. Nikki could be stealthy when she wanted to be, she had learned to navigate public areas without being noticed.

It was when she started making her way towards the ICU that she began to see more police and men in suits that looked like Private Security or perhaps even Government… the closer she got, she could also smell Press's scent, getting stronger, he was here!

Nikki made her way past the officers who were all too busy discussing the massive incident in Midtown and how they still hadn't found the assailant's body to notice her. That's because I've got him down below Terminal City, idiots she thought.

Nikki made her way through the reception and just watched. Now was the time to play this smart, find out which room he was in, find a way in there, and then hope he was conscious… conscious enough to see that it was her who was about to end him.

Nikki had no sooner found a place in a darkened corner of the reception area under a busted light fixture than She walked out of a room. The one they called Laura, the one she'd borrowed perfume from in the hotel…

Nikki stared wide-eyed at her for a moment, her hair was longer, but it was definitely her, she was still wearing the same perfume Nikki remembered. Laura came and sat three chairs away from her as two Doctors and a nurse made their way into a room up the hallway. The scent trail led into that room, the room where the doctors were… but there were too many police in the hallway.

Nikki averted her eyes, trying to bury herself in her hood. If this woman saw her, she would raise the alarm and it would all be over, she would be forced to flee the city, with all the police and Private security around the hospital, it wouldn't be easy, she would be looking at a running battle to the nearest subway entrance. Everyone would suddenly know Sil Lives, and the hunt would begin anew. What the fuck have I done… I've done it again, I came back for more in L.A. and here I am again! Nikki began silently cursing herself, suddenly realising the situation she'd dropped herself into, with a backpack full of stolen drugs and medical gear.

Shit! This isn't good, Nikki thought. She'd come here looking for revenge, and now she was sitting less than four feet away from one of the killers and was unable to do anything about it, lest her presence be discovered.

A few awkward minutes went by with neither woman moving or making a sound. The one they called Laura didn't even glance at her, she was preoccupied, upset. Then, as if from nowhere, she burst into tears. The one they called Laura looked heartbroken, Good! Nikki thought you don't know anything about heartbreak!

"I'm… I'm sorry" she suddenly said, apologising for the outburst. It took Nikki a moment to realise she was talking to her. Apart from the police officers and some private security guys milling around the hallway, she was the only other person in the seating section of the waiting room.

Nikki didn't say anything, just nodded, and kept her eyes focused on the door up the hall. With any luck, she would go back into that room when the Doctors left, she'd be able to follow her in there and have both of them to herself.

Laura began to fidget around in her pockets, sniffling. It was clear she was looking for a tissue and was unable to find one. Nikki sensed she was about to start asking for a tissue or a handkerchief and Nikki was the nearest person, she wanted no unnecessary interaction with her.

Nikki knew that in her jacket pocket was a small plastic pack of disposable tissues she'd taken from the medical storage room upstairs. She took it out and placed it on the seat next to Laura. "Oh..Thank you" Laura uttered.

Laura took one tissue and was about to offer the rest of the pack back to Nikki, but Nikki waved her hand without looking in a gesture to silently say keep it. "Thanks" Laura said again, Nikki responded with a curt nod without turning all the way to face Laura.

It was then that Nikki noticed another potential threat, she felt her other side, the animal within beginning to rise, and did her best to suppress it, taking a deep breath, this was not the time for any rash action. A hospital security guard was looking at her.

"Ma'am" he said. Nikki stared back at him but didn't say anything, she could feel Laura turning to look at her "Ma'am are you here to see someone?". Nikki was forced to think fast, Laura might remember her voice, if she said the wrong thing, Laura might pick up on it.

Before Nikki found the tunnel to Terminus and burrowed her way into the hidden Deep Storage area beneath, Nikki had spent a lot of time around Brighton Beach portion of Brooklyn, an area known as "Little Odessa" for it's tight-knit Russian and Eastern-European communities. She had learned the language and the accent, she could use it now to throw off suspicion, a recent immigrant in the wrong place.

Nikki began in Russian and switched to broken English "Tak Zhal" Nikki began "Sorry Ne mnogo angliyskogo… no much English…".

The security guard rolled his eyes and did the standard idiot thing that people did when dealing with a language barrier. He started speaking louder and slower, heavily pronouncing every syllable "DOO YOU KNOW SOMEONE HERE?" He said. Pointing at her and gesturing down the hall.

Had the situation not been so serious, Nikki might have laughed at this stupidity, had she really not been able to understand what he said, that wouldn't have helped him get his point across or her understand it. "Err Druzhok.. Boy..Friend… dorozhnaya avariya … Car.. crash" Nikki said, miming hands on an invisible steering wheel and then smacking her hands together.

The security guard paused and thought for a moment "Alright, ok, can you tell me your Boyfriend's name Ma'am? I'll check and see if he's in this department". Nikki tilted her head, prompting the security guard to continue "Your..boy..friend.. Name?" he pronounced again, but kept his town lower.

"Err Pavlov… Dimitri Pavlov?" She replied. The security guard went over to the overworked nurse at the desk and asked her to check the name on the computer. True enough, there was no Dimitri Pavlov, because Nikki just made it up, a combination of two names she'd overheard in Brighton Beach years ago.

The Security guard came back over and Nikki knew he was about to do his pronouncing thing again "He's not in this department Ma'am…" Nikki tilted her head again to sell the effect of not understanding properly, the security guard looked at Laura, and then back at her "Your.. boyfriend… he's not.. In here… wrong department". Nikki still had to sell this effect, she looked at him blankly. But that's when Laura unexpectedly intervened.

Nikki stole a quick glance at her, seeing her pull out her phone and tap a translator app, she spoke the words very clearly into the phone "He says he's sorry, but your boyfriend isn't in this department" then held the phone up and hit a button. An AI voice translator spoke the same words back to her in Russian, it sounded overly formal, but got the point across, now Nikki could move.

Standing up and collecting her backpack, she half turned to Laura and nodded "Spasibo..thank you" then turned to the security guard "I try downstairs" then turned, and made for the doorway "No problem ma'am, hope he's ok".

As soon as Nikki was through the door and around the corner out of sight, she stopped, leaned against the wall and breathed a deep sigh of relief, looked at her hands, they were shaking with a combination of nerves and anger.

She had been so stupid, blinded by anger that she almost walked right back into the same situation that almost killed her in L.A. had it not been for her quick thinking, she'd be fighting every cop in the building right now and then spending the rest of her days with a giant red target on her back.

Nikki made her way out of the hospital and around the back of the building under several concrete pillars, a less travelled area under cover. There was nobody back here, especially at 5am, the Sun wouldn't be up for a couple more hours this time of year.

All the activity was at the front. She pulled off the surgical mask that just saved her life and took several deep breaths. Feeling the anger and frustration rise inside her again, so close, so fucking close! Nikki clenched her teeth and seethed… feeling it eating away at her until she had to let it out.

With a scream, she clenched her fist and punched the concrete pillar as hard as she could. Her fist blasted a hole right down to the rebar supports, sending shards of broken concrete everywhere.

For the second time tonight, Nikki realised how loud that was and stopped to check her surroundings. She had just had a monumentally close call, she wasn't about to push her luck any further.

She went back around the side of the building and immediately ducked back into the shadows. Seeing a suited man appear around the corner with several other men. Nikki braced herself up against the wall in perfect silence and listened "Ok" the suited man began "What the fuck, guys, I thought you said you took care of the Whisper that tracked me here from Europe?" The second voice, one of the larger men replied "Sorry sir, we thought we had, her name was Katya Antonova - Whisper 66, we found her safe house in the Bronx and took her out, lost eight guys in the process, we thought she was alone".

Nikki listened, there was a pause "Well clearly you were fucking wrong, because there's another one on the loose, scour this city, find him and kill him you understand, I don't care how long it takes" the suited man ordered "Yes sir, Mr Dalton" came the reply "Ok, I'm out of here, I still have to be in Germany by morning, but make sure Lennox is well taken care of, I'll be sending him a large bonus for his actions tonight.

Nikki had heard enough, she crept out from cover, vaulted over the perimeter wall and vanished into the night.

---

WEST BRONX - NEW YORK - FIVE WEEKS AFTER MANHATTAN INCIDENT

Five weeks had passed since the night she had dragged him down into the tunnels. He was possessed on an Iron will she found to be extremely rare. In the second week. Nikki had moved him out of the main tunnels and down into Terminus with her. Deep below the city, making him officially her first house guest. Usually nobody went down there, nobody even knew about it.

Nikki had moved him down there to prevent any further incidents, especially as she was aware that a squad of killers were scouring the city for him. During the time he'd been there, Nikki had found out a number of interesting facts about her strange new friend… and, unexpectedly, they had become … close. His name was Connar Braden, and he was a "Whisper".

Despite her initial anger over the events of that night, she realised that she wasn't angry at Connar, he had simply encountered Press in a completely unrelated way, he had no idea about Press's connection with her.

Other than that, she found him to be charming, witty and funny, sometimes with a dark sense of humour that matched her own. Nikki had forgotten the last time anyone made her laugh, and Connar had made her do that several times a day with his unique perspectives and antics. He had seemingly figured out a few things about her too, but she hadn't let him see everything. It turned out that he did indeed have extrasensory abilities, and he had been trained, from the age of twelve, to use those abilities effectively.

She had been forced to warn him severely on the fifth day of him being in Terminus, not to delve too deeply into her past, or her nature, lest he experience it first hand. Other than that, they had remained on very good terms and she had resolved to keep him here until he was able to get out of the city unnoticed. The least she could do for the guy who stabbed Press in the chest.

The man he had attempted to kill, Dalton, was connected with some kind of project that turned Children with extrasensory powers, like himself, into living weapons known as "Whispers". The Whispers had destroyed the project and many of its backers years earlier, but whenever they discovered a new name connected with it, they set out to eliminate that individual.

The Project had existed since the seventies, taking Sighted children from all over the world, all walks of life and forging them into Whispers. Connar explained however, that the history of Whispers went back much further. Whispers, sighted individuals had existed since time immemorial, and for the vast majority of that time, they had been feared, persecuted and hunted. Over time, they had begun to use their abilities to seek one another out, eventually forming the Whispers. Their mandate was to protect and train the next generation of The Sighted, wherever they may be found.

Eventually, a project formed in the United Kingdom to harness the power of Whispers as Spies and Assassins, and so Project Morrigan had been formed. Three Generations of Whispers, taken from their families and forged into weapons.

Eventually, with the help of free Whispers, they had turned on the project in a day known as "Day Zero" and destroyed it in its entirety. The Whispers had then scattered across the world hunting anyone associated with Project Morrigan. Dalton, as it turned out, had funnelled money into the original project through shell companies, and also ran a children's charity which secretly worked to identify Sighted children.

Connar and another Whisper named Katia Antonova had been tracking Dalton and his activities, but he had somehow gotten onto them and sent a hit squad to take them out. They had killed Katia but Connar got away. Connar and Katia had been very close, so he had gone after Dalton full tilt, no quarter, and very public. Something Whispers weren't known for, but he had been grieving and enraged by Katia's loss.

It wasn't until the fifth week that Connar had decided it was time to get out of the city. He wasn't fully healed, but he felt he had imposed on her long enough and the longer he remained, the increased chances of the people who were after him venturing into the tunnels and hurting someone in pursuit of finding him.

That, however, was when everything changed.

Nikki felt that she would genuinely miss Connar and found it hard to say goodbye, this man who had provided her company and good times over the past few weeks. She wasn't accustomed to company, levity or cheerfulness.

It happened when she had led him up to the surface, to an alley near the docks with a large warehouse and factory complex which was currently condemned and abandoned. One of her favourite places to sit at night was nearby. An abandoned building with a view across the water to the city.

Connar opened a lockup hidden in the back of one of the warehouses, it contained a number of exotic weapons, a modified Toyota Hilux and another set of the highly resistant Nano-Fibre armour he wore.

As Connar began loading the weapons, armour and other items into the back of the truck. Nikki reached into her backpack and pulled out the gauntlet weapon she had taken from him the night they met "Here, if you're really gonna go after that guy again, you're probably gonna need this thing".

Connar smiled, reaching out with his uninjured arm, the other was still in a sling "Ha! I thought I'd lost this in the river" he chuckled. "No, I took it" Nikki said sheepishly "Thought it would be useful".

He reached out but didn't take the gauntlet, he took hold of her hand "I'm gonna miss you Nikki" he said softly "Thank you, really, for everything". "Then why don't you stay?" she said "You're not even fully healed". "I wish I could, I really do, but I have to finish what I started". Nikki waved her hand "You said there are others like you, other Whispers, let one of them take care of him".

"I can't, this has already cost the life of one Whisper, Katia, I can't risk that someone else gets hurt because I failed". Nikki looked down and unexpectedly found there was a lump in her throat "What about you?" she said "What about your life?".

Connar turned and she suddenly saw it in his eyes "You never planned on surviving that night did you?" There was a long pause then Nikki added "I never had that choice, I died once before, and I came back… I never wanted to but here I am". Nikki stopped herself, realising that she was saying too much.

"I know you're different, Nikki, I sense that, something just under the surface. Something extremely powerful. I don't know who or… what the hell you are, but you're alright, you know that? You saved me" he finally said. He let that sink in before adding "I can't let what happened to Katia happen to you".

Nikki stepped closer "You don't know what I am, not really, I keep that locked away from your sight. But here's a little cheat sheet for you, Whisper… I ain't some delicate buttercup, I can take care of myself".

"I see that, Nikki" he said "I wanna know more about you, but I see it's not a place you like to go" he added with a smile "I figured I'd let a girl have her mystery".

Nikki grinned and stepped very close to him now "I could show you what I am" she said, then added in little more than a whisper "But it would only frighten you… go ahead if you're brave enough".

A look came over Connar that she hadn't seen before, those odd coloured eyes of his seemed to almost take on a new light, even though they physically didn't she could feel his perception reaching out and touching hers, like he was looking at her in an aspect. She closed her eyes and felt his perception peel away the layers of what she appeared to be, reaching to the core of her, her true self. Their inner connection deepened to such a degree, that when they began to kiss, it was just another layer of connection. Their kiss was soft, gentle and romantic.

Nikki relaxed and let go of her last layers of fortification, she didn't know why, and she didn't care, she wanted him to know who she truly was, a risk she'd never taken before. Any moment now, his sight would complete its meld with hers and he would see her… see her as she truly was... within.

At the last moment, she sensed something was wrong. Connar obviously sensed it too, she felt him pull back, and felt a stab of frustration at feeling the sensation of withdrawal, both physically and within their minds, preternaturally.

They were not alone. The sensation had distracted them both. She smelled it, she sensed it, there were men coming… many of them, the one's from the hospital… They were here!

Connar pulled out the Ruger 5.7 pistol he'd just collected from the back of the lockup and chambered a round. Nikki spun around at that precise moment, she was hit with a barrage of automatic fire.

She felt over two dozen bullets rip through her body at various angles and sent her flailing back into the lockup. The last thing she felt before losing consciousness was Connar catching her in his arms and dragging her back into cover "Nikki!... Nikki!" She saw him return fire. Then everything faded… for the moment. Nikki remained partially aware of her surroundings, but her body would now have to go through its regeneration process.

Nikki heard, smelled and felt what followed, everything was muffled, she heard shouts, gunfire. She felt herself being dragged, Connar was trying to get her to safety. She felt the vibrations of bullets hitting all around her, some even struck her. She was still connected with Connar on some level, what they had shared, had not fully dissipated. She felt it when a bullet struck him in the leg and he was forced back by the weight of their advance. He made it out through the back of the lockup.

(WRITER'S NOTE: To add another layer of fun to this action scene. Recommended soundtracks: LE CASTLE VANIA - BLOOD CODE.
MICK GORDON - AT DOOM'S GATE, MICK GORDON - THE ONLY THING THEY FEAR IS YOU)

Nikki began to feel it now…the inner change, it rose within her like a wave, a dark promise. Blood that had pooled around her shifted, taking on a life of it's own and re- entered her body though her open wounds. Her body felt around the bullets that had hit her, enveloped them, felt them, tested them and forced them back out through the open wounds before closing them and healing them perfectly, without so much as a blemish…but it continued, she felt it starting.

It began as a twitch, then spread to every nerve, a sensation like free fall. Like the feeling of sinking, being enveloped by something warm, something powerful, something Primal!

Her body twitched, shifted and began the change. Her heart pumped, her blood flowed and her muscles tensed. Nikki's eyes snapped open, the gate had been unlatched, all pretence would be dropped, her inner darkness had risen to the fore and now… she would have blood!

Nikki rose to her feet with an almighty roar, her arms wide, her claws bared. There was only one man in a suit, armed with a Submachine gun nearby, no doubt a rear-guard. Connar had been forced back through the lockup and the battle had moved further back into the warehouse complex.

Nikki saw the look of surprise on his face as she swiped and bisected the man with a single blow. He barely had time to register what he was looking at… just the way she liked it, now the others.

Nikki jumped and burst through the rotten beams, emerging onto the second floor. Moving fast along a darkened hallway, lined by pipes and collapsed beams. She spotted two more men at the end of the hallway, one of which saw her coming at the last moment and brought his gun to bear against her.

He screamed as she sprang at him, firing wildly, but it was useless. She controlled this fight now, not them. She took the first man to the floor and pushed his head to the side with one hand, then leaned down and ripped a large chunk out of the side of his neck with her teeth. Feeling the flesh tear away before spitting it out.

She felt several small impacts, the man she had ignored was just behind her, firing at her with a 9mm pistol. Nikki rounded on him and stood up, marching towards him and backing him up against the wall, allowing him to fire the rest of his magazine into her chitinous armour. She was adapted now, it was useless. He may as well have been firing a BB gun at the side of a battleship.

Nikki waited for him to reload and swiped the gun out of his hand. "W…. what… are .. you?" he uttered in a shaky voice. Nikki lashed out, seizing him by the jaw and pushing his head up against the wall. She pushed her lips up against his ear "Shhhhhhhhh" Nikki then clenched her fist, snapping and crushing his jaw before ripping it clean off.

Nikki was moving again before his body hit the floor. They had forced Connar back through the complex into a disused factory section, he had taken out a few of them, she knew what he was capable of at full strength, she had seen it, but he was far from full strength right now, nor was he wearing his Nano-Fibre suit.

Nikki vaulted from one platform to another, reaching the 3rd level. She swiped at one man's throat, sending up a five foot jet of blood, she then turned and opened her clawed hand, digging it into the back of the man next to him, wrapping her full hand around his, now severed, spine and using it as a grip with which to throw him screaming from the 3rd story platform onto some mothballed machinery below.

She noticed more men now, coming at her, I have your attention?…come on! She thought.

Nikki jumped up into the rafters, poised herself and sprang, landing in the middle of eight of them, fully armed, faceless men in tactical gear. Nikki swiped the first man, sending out a jet of blood across the platform as the man clutched at his throat and collapsed. She felt the sting from numerous rounds impacting her chitinous, armoured skin, there was pain, but there was no injury.

A second man, in close proximity emptied his magazine and went for her with the stock of his rifle. Brave.. for an insect! Nikki caught it and crushed the weapon in his hand, simultaneously, clenching the fist of her free hand and punching him the soft area directly below the sternum, her closed fist passed through Kevlar, flesh, organs and finally met his spine, which she quickly snapped. One of the men shouted "FRAG OUT!" causing the others to disperse, Nikki saw he had primed a grenade.

Nikki hurled the dead man in her arms at the man with the grenade. Hitting him, and the man next to him. The dead man and his friend with the grenade were sent over the edge of the platform, seconds later, the grenade went off, blasting both of them to bloody chunks.

The other man who was hit by his friend's body managed to cling onto the edge and began attempting to pull himself up. You'll be last! Nikki thought.

Another of them recovered and opened fire, drawing her attention, Nikki whipped around and pounced, claws bared, and took him down to the floor, sliding along the platform. Nikki grabbed his head with one clawed hand and dug her claw through the soft tissue of his face and eyes until he could no longer scream, she felt his skull begin to crack and finally smash like an egg under almost one thousand five hundred pounds of pressure.

Then she felt it again, one of the men behind her, he'd run up to stand almost directly over her and unloaded a full magazine directly into her back. Forty rounds of 7.62 stung, it really stung, but all it achieved was making Nikki more angry. They never learn…

Nikki waited for the click, the inevitable panicked reload "Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! What the FUCK IS THIS THING!" one of them bellowed. I was the girl who ran away. Nikki simply stood up and backed herself into the man behind her, forcing him back against the wall, feeling her chitinous dorsal blades sink into his flesh. I became a mother….

Three left, one was close to her, thinking he had her cornered and opened up with a UMP-45. 45 ACP rounds were painful, but she had been hit with them before, so she had adapted a long time ago. They didn't penetrate her skin.

Nikki darted forward, cocked her arm back and sent forth a devastating punch right through the man's face and out the back of his skull. I watched it all burn… I WATCHED IT ALL BURN!

Nikki retracted her arm and pounced at the last man standing in the group, another one who thought he could unload a full magazine into her.

Nikki landed on top of him, knocking him to the floor and straddling him as she ripped and slashed, tearing him to pieces with her claws. But my fire will never go out.. I AM UNBOUND!

When he finally stopped screaming, Nikki stopped tearing. She breathed long and deep and looked around. Her eyes locked on the last one. The one who clung to the edge had managed to climb back up and now was only thinking of getting away.

No, none of you escape now, you forced my hand, now you get to meet me… MEET THE REAL ME! Nikki thought.

She threw back her head and let out a long, loud roar that echoed through the complex. An announcement, a declaration, a proclamation … NOW… YOU WILL ALL… KNOW ME!

She let out one of her long tendrils, feeling it slide down her arm and out, through the end of her, now torn, sleeve to twist around the man's ankle. "Please… Please…" he whimpered… Pathetic she thought, dragging him back to her feet and stomping him so hard her foot plunged down through his ribcage and the organs within, and smashed the wooden beams of the second story platform on which she stood.

Nikki dragged her foot out of the man and immediately felt the annoying stinging sensation of being hit by a barrage of more bullets, this time of various calibres. More of you… outstanding!

Nikki ran, pumped her legs and pounced right into the first of seven more men coming back along the platform. She ripped, tore and smashed her way through them in a matter of seconds. Now, she had to find Connar.

Nikki could hear gunfire somewhere in the back of the complex, he was still fighting, still moving, good, she was heading in the right direction. He had dropped several of them on his route through the complex, he was clearly dangerous even in a diminished state, capable, seasoned, a hunter.

Nikki dropped down a level and charged along the second story, smashing through walls and steel beams. At the end of the platform, she came to a disused office booth, and ploughed through it, sending pieces flying in all directions. The momentum carried her off the platform and into the open air, twisting as she went, everything was in slow motion, and she felt… peace.

Seeing several more men below, she enjoyed the weightless feeling for as long as possible before she landed with her full weight on top of the first man. A downward strike opened him up from gullet to groyne and Nikki was on the move again, only partially aware of the man she had slashed, staggering around, pathetically trying to cradle his spilling organs as they, and he, collapsed into a pool of congealed water.

She saw that the last five men had Connar cornered in a sectioned off room at the back of the warehouse, he was still firing, good, but he had only his pistol and they had assault rifles and were turning the walls of his last bastion into swiss cheese. She trusted him, felt close to him, and these scum… they would not take him from her.

One by one, the men turned, seeing her approaching them from behind, and one by one they rounded on her, unloading their rifles, and one by one, she ended them in jets of blood, crushed bone and torn flesh until only one remained standing.

She recognised this one, a big guy, bodybuilder type, macho. He was at the hospital, he had gone around the back of the building with the one called Dalton and spoken to him… he was the one who had been hunting Connar ever since. He must've found Connar's lockup with all his gear and laid in wait… but he wasn't expecting her… nobody ever did.

He emptied one magazine into her at full auto, she kept stepping towards him. He flicked away the spent magazine and slammed in another, cycled and fired, no effect.

By the time she was within arm's reach, he was at the end of his third magazine, and she swiped the assault rifle out of his grip, placed her clawed hands on either side of his wide eyed face and pulled him close.

I was having a good moment back there, and you interrupted me… for that, you get the Robbie special! She thought, and pressed her lips up against those of the big man and delivered what, at first, was a passionate, but forceful kiss… he kept trying to pull away, but she had him in a vice-like grip.

Without any warning, she forced her tongue past his teeth, then hard into the back of his throat, until it shot out through the back of his head, where it coiled around the side of his face and fish-hooked him in the side of his mouth, pulling his head to one side.

The man issued a muffled scream, then, with a quick jerk of her head, she retracted her tongue, snapping his head to the side and breaking his neck with a satisfying wet CRACK!

Nikki breathed a long, drawn out breath, bringing forth a low growl as she let his body collapse to the ground. She looked around, reaching out with her senses, her perception, but there were no more interlopers.

Nikki was alone now, apart from just one more, and she felt his gaze on her from the side as he emerged from the room in which he'd been cornered and stepped closer to her. The next few moments would be telling. He would either accept her in her true form, or she would run in fear, in which case, he would be a witness, a potential future threat, and wouldn't make it out of the room… she waited… silence.

Nikki slowly turned and regarded him up and down, he was hit, injured, but wasn't faltering. She immediately saw the way he was looking at her… it wasn't fear, it was something else, something she never expected … it was Awe…

Nikki stared back at him and took another deep breath. She felt her inner darkness subside, bringing on the sensation of freefall to all her nerves. Every cell, every molecule re-aligned, chitinous armour, became smooth, supple flesh, tendrils unbound and fell into blonde hair, claws retracted into soft hands.

Nikki looked back at him with her human face and felt all her anger melt away. Now it would be a question of who spoke first. The silence eventually became awkward, not knowing what to do, Nikki gave a pronounced shrug, saying it without saying it.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" Nikki said, her tone was wry. "No,no, I think he got the tongue" Connar said after a few moments. Nikki smirked, feeling slightly relieved Ok… he's not freaking out, this is uncharted territory…

Connar stepped closer to her, Nikki felt his rhythms returning to a more balanced state, despite a couple of new injuries, he was calm, collected and most importantly, he appeared to be comfortable in her presence, after witnessing her true aspect.

Nikki asked, in a direct tone "You're not afraid of me?". "How could I be?" Connar said, answering a question with a question "You just saved me for a second time". There was another long pause which Nikki again decided to break "Still wanna know what I am?". Connar looked deep into her eyes again "You won't find the answer in there, Whisper" she said, pointing to her temple "The truth is, I have no idea what I am, they never told me" she said.

"I'll settle for your real name" Connar finally said. "You know my name, It's Nicole Toombs, my friends call me Nikki" Nikki said in a forceful tone, then reluctantly offered an additional detail "Sil" she said in a low voice… "That was the first name I was given… Sil".

Connar looked like he was about to repeat it, but Nikki interrupted him "But that's not who I am, not anymore, I laid Sil to rest in a pit of fire beneath the streets of L.A. years ago, she's gone… and she's never coming…ba" before Nikki could finish the sentence, Connar closed the distance and pulled her close, resting his head against hers. "Thank you, Nikki" he whispered.

Now they were back in the same place they were just a few minutes ago, before they were so rudely interrupted. Nikki couldn't hold back any longer, and pressed her lips against Connar's.

Now, there they were, the two of them, surrounded by blood, torn flesh, broken bones and spent bullet casings, but lost in each other. Their connection was more than physical, both of them possessed a telepathic and empathic acuity, their minds merged, allowing them to truly know one another. They stayed like this for several long minutes before they finally spoke again.

Now the mood was light again, Nikki pulled Connar's arm around her shoulder and helped him limp back through the complex. Luckily this was a quiet part of the city at night, either that, or these guys had some influence with the police department and local patrols were all diverted. Either way, there was no response.

Connar bandaged his leg back at the truck and finished loading it while Nikki re-traced her steps back through the complex, pouring fuel on each of the bodies left in their respective wakes. Connar had also given her several explosive devices to set at various points to maximise the effect. It didn't matter what this looked like when authorities found it, most of the evidence would be gone.

After she finished, she climbed into the truck and drove them away from the complex. Once they were safely away and down near the waterfront. Connar pulled out a phone and dialled a pre-set number.

Nikki watched as a series of massive explosions tore through the complex, followed by an immense wave of fire as flashover took the rest.

Connar seemed distracted and looked out over the water "Well, I guess I'm staying, if you'll have me". "You know the answer to that" Nikki said. "I think I already figured out what you are though, and it's not an Angel" he said with a grin. "Oh really, do enlighten me…" Nikki said, suddenly pointed at him and added "If you say Demon, I will give you the Robbie Special too!".

Connar laughed "No, absolutely not…" he said. Nikki could see he was gearing up for something unusual. "Well come on, don't keep it to yourself, you Lace Curtain Asshole!". "First off, Lace Curtain means you're rich or well off, I don't come from privilege, the correct term is Shanty… and you.. Pretty sure you're some kind of Mermaid".

Nikki narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips "You say what… a Mermaid?" Nikki smirked "Really? A goddamn Mermaid… You Shanty Asshole!". Connar laughed "Yup, definitely, after seeing you like that, it's the only thing I can think of. I'm a Whisper, and you're a Mermaid".

Nikki shook her head and laughed "What? You… Ok, what are these?" Nikki slapped her thighs and pointed at her feet. Connar looked down "Those are legs, nice one's too actually". Nikki held up her hands "Exactly, Mermaids don't have fucking legs do they?".

Connar considered this for a split second and added "Then maybe some Mermaids evolved for high altitudes? And you do look kinda Nordic, you might be a Norse Siren or a Margygr… maybe".

Nikki gave him a half glare, and raised an eyebrow, she could see that he was trying to lighten the mood after what just happened, it was working, she was fighting the urge to laugh at this ridiculous speculation.

"Connar, I… look at me, you've seem me as I really am, I ain't a High-Altitude Mermaid or a Nordic Siren or whatever the hell a Margygr is…fucking High-Altitude Mermaid!" Nikki began to laugh as she spoke, trying to sound serious "Anyway, come on, you busted all your stitches and you're gonna need to get those new wounds looked at, Doc Leland's gonna be pissed". As she helped him back to the truck, he kept grinning "So if you're not from the ocean depths" he said, gesturing to the water "Where did you come from?" he asked.

"Originally, Utah, I busted out of a big government compound and hopped a train" Nikki said as she helped him into the truck. "Oh, Utah… So you're a Dry Climate Mermaid?". Nikki met his eyes, he was smirking "You're gonna make me regret this I can tell" she said "And… you actually just used the word Dry and Mermaid, in the same sentence" Now she was really laughing.

Connar wasn't finished "Yeah, I'm sure Mermaids can evolve for Dry Climates. "Life Finds a Way" Dr. Ian Malcom, 1993". Nikki slapped the wheel, now in a wide grin, and turned to face Connar who she could tell was just waiting for the reaction "R…Really, Jurassic Park? So now it's a prehistoric Land-Mermaid from a dry climate? One question… Do you hear yourself?".

"A Land-Mermaid, now that's it right there!" Connar kept going "You know if you mix up the words Land and Mermaid you know what you get right?" he said, smirking. "No Connar, what do you get?" Nikki asked with a sigh. "Laid, Nikki… you get Laid, you know you take the L and you get rid". "I get it, I get it" Nikki shouted "Come on, let's get out of here before the cops come, what have I let myself in for?" Nikki said, turning the ignition, they both began to laugh.

Nikki kicked the truck into gear and sped away, from here, she would take them to a safe spot, hide the truck, and they would move all the weapons, equipment and armour down into Terminus. It had been agreed, the Whisper known as Hooded Crow was going to stay with the enigmatic woman known as the Angel of Vermin.

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Hope you all had fun reading this, this was a flashback chapter, think of it like a flashback TV episode, giving some backstory on how Nikki (Sil) met Connar the Whisper, and the unexpected role that Press Lennox played in their meeting. Press will talk about his encounter with the "Hooded Crow" in Species: The Survivor.